One Year Expatversary

3 continents | 12 countries | 35 cities | 1 lifelong love affair with Spain

As hard as it is to believe, today marks 12 full months of living as an expat in Madrid.

*Technically speaking, I moved to Madrid on September 15th, 2013 - but I don't count the two months I lived at home in Seattle this past summer. 

Not only is it hard to fathom how fast the time has passed, but it's also surreal to look back on how quickly I built a life here in Spain. At this point, Madrid genuinely feels like home.

Here in Spain, I've developed what I never thought I would: roots.

I have an apartment that feels like home. A job that I look forward to going to everyday. A solid community that I can fall back on, filled with friends who are always up for spontaneous adventures and never fail to make me laugh. I know the streets like the back of my hand, and I can order off a menu without needing to double check my Spanish dictionary first.

I've developed a deeper appreciation and respect for the culture, and I finally have a better command of the language. (Though let's be real, that'll always be a work in progress.) I've even surprised myself by adopting curious Spanish customs, like always  wearing slippers inside the house, never eating lunch before 2 pm, sleeping in the middle of the day, and never leaving the house with wet hair and/or flip flops.

Coming home to this colorful plaza makes living in Madrid all the more enchanting.

The weirdest part is how natural it all feels now. Through the trials and tribulations of adjusting to a new country, a new culture and essentially a new life, I've reached a point where I finally feel settled. The culture shock and homesickness have subsided, and as each day passes I feel more and more integrated. 

That's not to say that I don't ever have moments that make me feel like a total foreigner, or never witness events that make me think "What is the DEAL with this place?!?" There are still plenty of frustrating moments (most of them dealing with Spanish bureaucracy - I'm looking at you, Aluche) and things that make my blood boil (ahem, racism and machismo...), but I've learned to not let the negatives outweigh the positives. As often as I just have to shake my head and think, "Oh, Spain...",  at the end of the day I still love living here - nonsensical Spanish quirks and all.

Moving to Spain has required me to challenge myself and face my biggest fears head on, and because of that I've grown tremendously this past year. It's pretty damn scary to move to a new country where you don't know anybody, build a new community from scratch, submit yourself to the misadventures of love and dating, and test out a new career for the first time - all while trying to communicate in a foreign language. (I guess I can't speak for everybody, but at least it was really, really  terrifying for me.) But I survived to tell the tale!

All that said, moving abroad is undoubtedly the best thing I could have done for myself, and I hope to continue to grow as an expat this next year (or maybe even in future years...?) to come.

We make a good team, Madrid. Here's to many more adventures together!

Paris Gives Me Heart Sparkles

You know how everybody sobs uncontrollably during the first 15 minutes of the movie "Up" or the ending of "Titanic"? Well, that also happens to me when I watch the opening scene of "Midnight in Paris".

My name is Courtney, and I am a Francophile.

This past Friday morning on my way to Istanbul, I had a layover in Paris. I don't usually get too excited about layovers, especially when I'm half asleep thanks to my 4 am wakeup call, but upon flying over the City of Light I couldn't help but feel some pretty intense heart sparkles. (You know, like butterflies in your stomach, but sparkles in your heart.)

As we soared over the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame and Sacre Coeur, I felt the slightest hint of temptation to ditch my connecting flight to Turkey and spend the weekend traipsing through the first city I ever loved. (But that obviously would have been a terrible idea, especially considering how amazing Istanbul was. I know better than to make any important decisions before two cups of coffee. But I digress.) 

Although I last visited Paris in September 2013, I fear that one year is just too long to stay away. With my face plastered to the airplane window and my eyes tearing up from joy, I realized that my soul desperately needs another trip to Paris. Stat.

Back in 2010 when I was studying abroad in the south of Spain, I took a spontaneous trip to Paris over Easter because I knew I would be a fool to fly all the way to Europe and not visit the city I had been fantasizing about since I was a little girl. Visiting France had been a dream and obsession of mine since I could remember; even my bedroom was decorated with a Parisian theme. Needless to say, the minute I set foot on the cobblestone streets of the Left Bank I fell head over heels in love. 

My infatuation with Paris intensified when I lived there during the summer of 2011. Technically  I was there to study Surrealist art and literature, but really I was there to bask in the magic of the city. While I learned my fair share about André Breton and his crew of offbeat surrealists, I spent most of my time eating macarons from Ladurée, frolicking through the Luxembourg Gardens, practicing my broken French in charming cafés, and wandering aimlessly through my favorite museums.

When I visited Paris last September for the third time, I wasn't too keen on spending my time powering through endless hours of sightseeing. Rather, I spent my days leisurely exploring, strolling through the rainy streets, snacking on macarons in the Tuileries, and channeling my inner Hemingway at sidewalk cafés. When I needed a change of pace from sipping wine at Les Deux Magots and indulging on delicious (but seriously overpriced) hot chocolate from Angelina's, I let myself get lost in a sea of impressionism at the Musée de l'Orangerie and the Musée d'Orsay for hours on end. 

As cliché as it may sound, sometimes I feel like my soul belongs in Paris. (So naturally, I live in Madrid...?) But being in Paris feels so right, as if the entire universe aligns as soon as I arrive. No other city has made me feel so effortlessly fulfilled by the surrounding art, culture and beauty. The joie de vivre is contagious there - and oh, how I miss it.

I suppose you could take a wild guess as to where I'll be planning my next trip...

Gluten-Free Pinchos Crawling on Logroño's Calle Laurel

In the north of Spain, tapas are known as pinchos (or "pintxos") and are usually served atop a small piece of bread. As delicious as these appetizers may be, this tradition assuredly sounds like a Celiac's worst nightmare. Upon traveling to Logroño, La Rioja - the capital city of Spain's wine country - all I heard was talk of the famous pinchos on Calle Laurel. 

This notorious street in Logroño is lined with colorful tapas bars, each serving traditional Spanish pinchos to the wine-fueled masses. Instead of getting excited about this supposed foodie heaven, I felt an impending sense of doom. How would I survive in this perilous haven of bread?

But then I saw this little blue sign...

"Sin Gluten" means "gluten free" in Spanish. Hallelujah!

Much to my surprise, many of Calle Laurel's eateries plaster these cheery cerulean stickers across their windows and outdoor menus. Each bar that displays it usually has a handful of gluten-free pinchos available to order. I flitted from bar to bar in awe, hardly containing my excitement and disbelief (...and hunger).

With the help of my travel buddy Lauren's restaurant research and these God-sent "sin gluten" stickers, I commenced my weekend of gluten-free pinchos crawling on Calle Laurel. Here's what we found on our tapas treasure hunt:

Bar Donosti

What I Ordered: A tosta with goat cheese + peach marmalade + pine nuts on gluten-free bread, and another couple of GF tostas with goat cheese + tomato jam + almonds

The Verdict: So delicious I had to ask, "Are you sure this is gluten-free?!" 

Although it tasted too good to be true, this Celiac-friendly tosta was the best pincho I had all weekend. (Needless to say, we came back here every single day.) 

La Taberna del Laurel

What I Ordered: A steaming dish of patatas bravas

The Verdict: Fried and marinated to perfection, these crispy potatoes drizzled with "spicy" tomato sauce and aioli did not disappoint. Of the many servings of patatas bravas I've enjoyed this past year, this batch inched its way up to the top of my list. 

Ribera 

What I Ordered: A tosta with goat cheese, jamón and caramelized onions on gluten-free bread

The Verdict: The perfect combination of salty, savory and sweet. I seriously regret not taking photos of this delectable creation. (But hindsight is 20/20, especially if you were starving.)

Pata Negra

What I Ordered: A bocatita (mini-sandwich) with jamón and Galician Tetilla cheese on gluten-free bread

The Verdict: The gluten-free bread had a nice consistency and an authentic flavor. My taste buds delighted in the simple combination of salty cured ham and rich, creamy cheese. I wish I had gone to Pata Negra more than just once!

These next two restaurants aren't technically located on Logroño's famous Calle Laurel, but they're just a stone's throw away and still worth a mention.

On Travesía del Laurel:

Blanco y Negro

What I Ordered: A bocatita (mini-sandwich) with jamón and a roasted green pepper on gluten-free bread

The Verdict: The gluten-free bread was too chewy for my taste, and the tapa itself was a bit plain. Although, I could have just been bitter that the bartender told me I couldn't order a gluten-free version of their signature goat cheese, jamón and raspberry jam pincho. Bummer.

On Calle Portales:

La Tortilla del Albergue

What I Ordered: A classic slice of tortilla de patatas

The Verdict: I kid you not, this was one of the best tortillas I've had in my life. (For now I'm going to put it in the Top Five, but that's subject to change!) Comprised of just eggs, potatoes and olive oil, this simple dish is the epitome of comfort food. This pincho de tortilla had just the right consistency and flavor.

Because some of the bars get so crowded, many eateries have created "take out" windows for their pinchos. I obviously couldn't pass up a late night pincho de tortilla to-go!

Tips for Gluten-Free Pincho Hopping on Calle Laurel:

- If you're ordering something that doesn't specifically come with gluten-free bread, then ask for your dish "sin pan" (without bread). This is what I always had to do when ordering a slice of tortilla.

- If you're nervous because your Spanish is rusty, then print out a gluten-free restaurant card like this one to show to your waiters. However, most servers are in a rush, so if you just ask for a tapa "Sin Gluten" or say "Soy Celiaca", the restaurant will know how to take care of you.

- Follow the little blue "Sin Gluten" signs. They won't disappoint!


Not gluten-free but still want to experience all that Calle Laurel has to offer? Check out Lauren's post on Pincho Hopping in Logroño!

Do you have any food allergies? 
How do you survive them while traveling?