Choices

I think I know the biggest difference thus far between the US and Spain: CHOICES. This evening I was feeling a little bit hungry so I went to the pintxos bar a couple doors down from Roger’s piso. I ordered a cerveza and had my choice of any pintxo I wanted for the small price of 3,80 euro ($4.60). Mind you, I did not have my choice of beer. Beer is beer here. You take what you get. But the choices of pintxos is amazing. So for the price of a beer (which was way better than Budweiser, I might add) I had my choice of a culinary wonderland: shrimp on a skewer, mushrooms with garlic, a warm sausage sandwich (my choice), and a myriad of other choices I don’t even know how to describe.

Where, in the US, can you have a good beer and a half sandwich for less than $5.00? The other night was the same, when Roger took me to three pintxo bars: a glass of wine (no choice, just a good glass of wine) but our choice of whatever pintxo we wanted to go along with the house glass of wine, or the house mug of beer. The food was delicious — to die for, even. But the beer and wine were of great quality as well.

When we ate lunch at a restaurant, there was no full menu – only two choices for each of the three courses, for one low price – and included a bottle of wine! Why must we, as Americans, insist on having so many choices? Why do we demand that there be options for everything? We sit and him-haw around and make everyone wait while we choose. How refreshing it is to go in and say “Una cerveza, por favor” and be served en seguida. No waiting. No lines. No choices. Refreshing.

Simplicity has been my motto for quite some time now, as some of you may have noticed. I moved from an enormous four bedroom house with humungous closets to a small two bedroom duplex. And now I am across the ocean, living out of two suitcases and a carry-on. I wouldn’t have it any other way.