Better late than never

I'm so sorry that I've fallen behind with my blog, but you see I've been in cat chokey, a.k.a. Baldernock Cattery, again! It seems one trip to Spain in four weeks isn't enough for Annie and Martin - they have to go twice! I suspect that they have cats to play with there, too. If you look closely at the postcard that Martin sent me (better late than never - I didn't get one last time) you can see a picture of a handsome ginger boy like me sitting on a picturesque Spanish windowsill. I wonder if he has a tortoishell sister with a bad temper and questionable grooming skills hidden away in the dark room behind him?

We miss A and M when they're away, but I can understand why they go. M's card says "Dear Ding, Hope you're having a nice time in the cattery. You'd like it here in Spain. It's hot and there's lots of fish to eat. Love Mart." He's right, I would like it. When they got back I asked M to go into more detail about the fish, and he said they had cod, hake, swordfish, anchovies, monkfish, squid, octopus, prawns, bream, bass, sole, tuna, cuttlefish, sardines, mussels, clams and maybe some other fish he's forgotten. He also had snails, rabbit, goat and veal. Then there were all the vegetables, including broad beans, aubergines, wild mushrooms, peppers, lots of salads, gazpacho soup, and different kinds of potatoes. There were a good few eggs, this being Spain. But most of all they ate cured pig in the form of ham, chorizo, morcilla (that's black pudding, one of my favourites), longaniza, salchichon and tocino. There was fresh pig meat too, including lomo (that's loin), chops, carne en salsa, cerdo en adobo, pinchos morunos (spicy little kebabs) and unidentified porky things cooked up with chick peas and beans.

I asked how he managed to enjoy such a huge variety in a visit of just a week, and he explained about tapas. He says in Granada Province where he and Annie were, they are free with drinks, and the bar gives you something different each time you order. So if you stop for three small beers or glasses of wine you get three different little dishes, and these can be as simple as a piece of cheese, or much more elaborate, like stewed rabbit with olives. You can't choose what you get, but you're not paying for it and you can leave it, which sounds rather like being a cat but with more variety. If you drink as much as A and M do on holiday, you don't ever need to buy any food. Whoever says there's no such thing as a free lunch hasn't been to Granada.

Ah well, they're home now, and so are we. They picked us up from the cattery last night and brought us back to the house, where I ate my usual fish and biscuits. I got bored halfway through and tried to muscle in on my sister's dinner instead, but without much success as Martin kept picking me up and manhandling me back to my own bowl. He cooked a scorching hot curry chicken, with side dishes of karela and bukhara dhal, and Sri Lankan simba rice. It's obvious they miss their curries when they are abroad, as they always have some as soon as they get home. Then in the proceeding days they rather predictably eat things that remind them of where they've just been. Tonight M cooked a revuelto - that's a Spanish scrambled egg dish, in this case with peppers and mushrooms - and served it with potatoes fried in duck fat. I wonder what it will be tomorrow, Spanish or Indian? Perhaps he'll combine the two and curry some ham.