Story Prompt Friday: What Made Your Meal Singularly Memorable?
Hello to you listening from wherever your feet touch the ground.
Coming to you from Whidbey Island, Washington this is Stories From Women Who Walk with Story Prompt Friday and your host, Diane Wyzga.
Revisiting Camino experiences. I‘ve been virtually retracing my Camino de Santiago pilgrimage steps—5 weeks, 500 miles across Spain—revisiting lived experiences and all those memory moments—as I do every year on the anniversary.
Struggles. By this time back then I’d been on the road almost 2 weeks. I was slowly gaining strength, endurance, and confidence in meeting what would happen next. I didn’t always know where I was headed or what challenges I’d meet. Would I get lost? Would the albergue (the pilgrim hostel) be full and no beds available; and, if so, where would I sleep for the night? Where would I find food and clean drinking water? Would I be able to cover the miles I needed to?
On this day I planned to trek 18 miles—mostly back roads and fields. The weather was good. The scorching heat of summer had begin to melt away leaving yellowing leaves on trees, harvested furrows and cooler days. But I was tiring after such a long day carrying my 15-pound pack. Was I going to make it?
Precious rest. My sights were set on arriving at Casa de Magica, an albergue in Lorca. A break from the usual overflowing dorm rooms with tripled stacked beds, plastic-covered mattresses and snoring, lots of snoring. This beautifully restored stone house with it’s inviting name, only 11 beds, and sheltered in a small village promised peace, quiet, rest! And, paella!
Food on the Camino. Good food does more than fuel the body. Shared meals—a signature part of the pilgrim journey—fortify the heart. Albergue meals could be hit or miss. Some albergues offered a small bowl of pasta with pesto and a green salad. In others you might get soup and bread, green beans with garlic, fried trout, and maybe yogurt for dessert. On occasion those meals became family dinners when we pilgrims were welcomed into the family kitchen. Casa de Magica promised such a welcome and homemade traditional paella! If only I could make it before my stumbling feet gave out.
Casa de Magica. After another six miles I staggered in the front door. I had arrived at Casa de Magica. Leaving my boots and trekking poles in a box for that purpose I padded in my socks behind the hospitelero as he showed me to the last open bed in a small room with 5 other women pilgrims. I checked for bedbugs, spread out my sleeping bag, put my pack on the floor and headed downstairs, across an old stone courtyard and into a small stone building where clean plastic bins were stacked on the floor alongside a large jug of red wine vinegar and a box of coarse salt. When mixed with ice cold water the solution became a refreshing soak for tired feet and shins. Try it sometime. It’s like magica!
I dried my feet, slipped on my sandals and snugged down into a hammock hanging from old crossbeams in the building. It was time to rest.
No paella for us. But then the hospitelero knelt by my side and said that he was very sorry but he could not make the paella as promised. Someone in the family was sick and he had to leave. Now what? This was a small village with no cafes. It was getting late.
I joined a few pilgrims in the courtyard and we set out to see what we could find. Like magica we spotted a mercado but the shopkeeper was closing up ready to head home to his own supper. Unlike our 24/7 grocery stores, a mercado is a small shop with local foods, fresh produce and vino tinto (good red wine). Having patiently listened while we explained our plight, the shopkeeper unlocked the door and welcomed us inside so we could shop for what we needed.
The albergue kitchen. Bustling back to the albergue kitchen with our supplies we worked together to prepare an elegant meal: sliced tomatoes, potatoes boiled in their jackets, diced bacon with wilted spinach, and huevos fritos: eggs basted in copious amounts of virgin olive oil. Bringing our plates to the old wooden table we took our seats, sat and ate relishing the nourishing food, the collective effort, and the profound sense of Camino magic. In the morning we would likely go our separate ways making and collecting more memory moments. For me, all these years later, this meal is still magica.
Story Prompt: What has made a meal memorable, even magical, for you? Write that story! Share it out loud.
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Stories From Women Who Walk Production Team
Podcaster: Diane F Wyzga & Quarter Moon Story Arts
Music: Entering Erdenheim by Steve Schuch & Night Heron Music
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