Sit down to dinner with Spaniards and you will notice, after a while, a set of questions that never come. The conversation will be loud, warm, and endless, ranging over food and family and football and politics and the state of the world, and yet certain things an American would ask within the first ten …
For years my mornings were a small daily emergency. Coffee gulped standing up, something eaten over the sink or in the car, a scramble of screens and hurry before the day had properly begun, all of it fast and functional and joyless. Then, for one month, I did what half of Spain does every single …
Getting invited to a Spanish home for dinner is a small honor, a sign you have been let past the restaurant-and-bar layer of Spanish social life into the warmer world within. It is also a minefield of good intentions, because the American instincts about what a good guest brings do not all translate, and a …
For most Americans, the house call belongs to a lost world, a scene from an old television show where a kindly doctor with a black leather bag climbs the porch steps to tend a sick child in bed. Somewhere in the last century it vanished, replaced by the waiting room, the urgent-care clinic, and the …
An American moves into a lovely apartment in Germany, wakes up on a sunny Sunday morning, and decides to mow the little patch of lawn out back. Within minutes a neighbor appears, then another, and the conversation is not friendly. Before long there may be a knock from the local authorities. The newcomer has not …
Ask a European how much paid vacation they are entitled to and they will name a number, because the law guarantees them one. Ask an American the same question and the honest answer is that it depends entirely on their employer’s goodwill, because no law guarantees them anything at all. This is not a small …
On an American beach, the flags are advice. A red flag means the lifeguards would rather you stayed out of the water, and a certain kind of swimmer treats it as a personal challenge, wading in anyway with a shrug. On a Spanish beach, that same shrug can cost you thousands of euros and, far …
Americans are, by almost any measure, a friendly people. They smile easily, thank generously, chat with strangers, and radiate a warmth that visitors from more reserved places often find genuinely lovely. Yet that same warmth, carried unchanged across the Atlantic, can land in Europe as something puzzling, excessive, or even faintly insincere, not because Europeans …
In a Portuguese kitchen, fish is not a special occasion. It is Tuesday. The women of Portugal, and especially the older generation, have eaten fish several times a week their entire lives, grilling sardines on the balcony, simmering salt cod into a hundred dishes, and treating the daily catch of the Atlantic as the ordinary …
Walk into a Spanish supermarket, head for the milk, and you will not find it in a chilled cabinet. It sits on an ordinary dry shelf, stacked in cartons at room temperature, next to the coffee and the sugar. To an American shopper this looks alarming, even a little unsafe. To a Spaniard it is …
Spend enough time studying the oldest people in Europe and you start looking for the pattern, the one thing they all have in common that explains those long, vigorous lives. The obvious candidates are diet and exercise, the two levers the whole wellness industry pulls. Yet when you line up the longest-living Europeans side by …
Walk through a village on a Greek island and you will meet women in their seventies, eighties and beyond with skin that has clearly seen a lot of sun and a lot of life, and yet carries a kind of health and vitality that expensive routines rarely buy. Ask one of them about her skincare …