Reflections on Alcalá by a visitor from abroad
An American gentleman penned these lines during a recent stay in Alcalá de los Gazules, and has kindly allowed me to share them with you. Gazpacho The social climbers won't leave simple fare alone; have somehow to corrupt and claim it as their own, endow it with Privilege and Prestige, attempt to slide it out of reach. They've taken guacamole, dead easy and good (ripe avocado, chopped onion, squeeze lemon, dash salt, mash with fork) to come up with versions that hinge on this or that: a blender, paprika, sour cream, capers... till fancy and high-strung, it's no longer for just anyone. They've done all they can to appropriate gazpacho. The next time you pay through the nose for a bowl, take time to reflect that as good a gazpacho's as ever been made happened 80 years back at a camp in the cork oak-forested hills northwest of Algeciras where a crew of corcheros weeks absent from home soaked their leftover bread in a basin with water, added garlic, olive oil, salt. Wh...