Living like nutty superkings

Jo’s student allowance has finally arrived, a mere two weeks before the end of semester. The fact that we got it at all is due mainly to the efforts of Jo’s courageous mum, who valiantly took the fight to Centrelink, who would otherwise still be squatting, Smaug-like, on the glittering heap of benefits to which Jo is entitled. So hooray. Seeing as we’ve been paying our own way so far, and living on a relatively tight budget, we decided to go out for a nice dinner, at the Australian tax-payer’s expense. You know how a while ago I was complaining about the state of the steaks here? Well, as with every time I make a grand, sweeping statement about the nature of life in Spain, it turns out I am wrong. Good steak can indeed be had here. Good steak? Amaaazing steak. Aged to within an inch of its life, seared and served perfectly rare, and with a rind of fat on it that gives you chest pains just to look at it. 

Well, that’s what Jo had, anyway. I, at his suggestion I might add, passed up the lamb in favour of grilled prawns. Which were fine, but they looked pretty measly next to Jo’s steak, which was so big it hung over the sides of his plate. So obviously we had to go back so that I could also eat a chunk of something’s flesh. And we did, and I had chops and they were fabulous, and Jo had a steak that was even more hyperbolic than the first one. Just to round out the carnivore celebration, we had some jamon as a starter. This is how good it was;

 Good jamon is like nothing else I’ve ever tasted. It is an incredibly complex flavour, salty, nutty, creamy and soft, and barely porky at all. It melts in your mouth, and leaves a wonderful film of fat on your tongue. It is a completely blissful experience. We had some excellent jamon at the wine bar up the road which came served with salmorejo, oil, and bread, which makes the plate look nice, but it really is totally extraneous. If you need side dishes, it is because the jamon is no good. Good jamon needs no accompaniment. Just reverent silence.  OK, enough food poncery. 

We had an extremely good dinner, which was then spoiled by the old guy at the table next to us lighting up a cigar the size of a baguette.And all thanks to fact that those useless bureaucrats at Centrelink couldn't find their arses with two hands and a map. Thankyou, Centrelink, the food was delicious.