{"id":18197,"date":"2018-12-17T11:18:45","date_gmt":"2018-12-17T10:18:45","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/devoursevillefoodtours.com\/?p=8308"},"modified":"2018-12-17T11:18:45","modified_gmt":"2018-12-17T10:18:45","slug":"a-love-letter-to-breakfast-on-three-kings-day","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/dev.devourtours.com\/blog\/a-love-letter-to-breakfast-on-three-kings-day\/","title":{"rendered":"A Love Letter to Breakfast on Three Kings Day"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

This post is part of our <\/i>Love Letter<\/i><\/a> series, first-person accounts of what we love about Seville.<\/i><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’d like to tell you about my favorite meal in the entire year. <\/span><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

That’s #1 out of 1,095 (if we’re going with a solid 3 meals a day, which as a born-and-raised Midwesterner, I am). But to let you into my love for this meal, I have to let you into my life first.<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Breakfast<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

I moved to Spain 9 years ago, just after graduating college. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my career, and I jumped at the chance to teach English for 9 months in southern Spain before having to decide the rest of my life.<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was in C\u00f3rdoba that I realized I actually wasn’t bilingual (seriously\u2014I couldn’t keep up with the most basic of conversations, which in my defense, were filled with thick Andalusian accents), that I adored Spanish food, and that I fell in love.<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

That last bit is important. Had I never crossed paths with Pablo, I’m not sure there\u2019d be a story to tell here. He’s the one who pushed me to try fried anchovies, scoffed when I was unsure about spreading thick pork p\u00e2t\u00e9 & piment\u00f3n<\/em>-colored lard onto my morning toast, and showed me how to tackle my first whole grilled fish (again\u2014Midwesterner here!).<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Breakfast
Everyone is quick to say they don’t like anchovies\u2014until they try them here in Spain.<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Though living in Spain is a dream in many ways, it doesn\u2019t come without struggle. And the biggest one is being away from my family. Thanksgiving and Christmas Day are sad ones for me here\u2014I think about my grandma\u2019s beef chili and clam chowder simmering away on the stove, the homemade chicken sandwiches she\u2019s diligently made in advance, and the Bloody Mary in hand that seems to magically replenish whenever low. I think about my family together, without me, the after-dinner banter and the late-night games I\u2019m not playing with them.<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

And it was only recently that I realized giving up those traditions back home actually meant making room for new ones here in Spain. From day one, Pablo’s family welcomed me with open arms. But it was when they made room at their table, and invited me into their secret club of yearly parties and traditions, that I really felt like I\u2019d found my place.<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Breakfast
Just try not<\/em> to fall in love with Cordoba\u2014the colorful floral accents make it hard to resist!<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

And that brings me to my favorite meal of the entire year. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

It\u2019s the morning of January 6<\/a>\u2014Spain\u2019s version of Christmas Day\u2014and we\u2019ve just spent an hour in the warm living room, opening gifts and laughing, trying on clothes, flipping through new books, and buzzing around the room. Classical music (my father-in-law\u2019s go-to move) and a warm fire keep the room cozy. Sleepy-faced and pajama-clad, we\u2019re all happy\u2014but more importantly\u2014hungry. It\u2019s time for the meal I\u2019ve been waiting for all year.<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Maybe it\u2019s all the cava from the night before, or that post-gift opening buzz, or the fact that we have nothing to do today but lounge around in pajamas. But as I sit down and look around, I\u2019m happy. There\u2019s freshly brewed coffee and a jug of warm, thick hot chocolate on the table. On one side of the table there\u2019s a<\/span> rosc\u00f3n de Reyes<\/span><\/i>, a yeasted cake filled with fresh whipped cream and topped with candied fruit. And on the other, Pablo\u2019s mom\u2019s famous <\/span>migas<\/span><\/i>\u2014bread crumbs, pork belly and whole garlic cloves fried in bright olive oil. She\u2019s made them the day before, for the big group of friends that come over every year on January 5, and who almost always overstay their welcome as they reach for one more bottle of cava, again and again. I had never seen <\/span>migas<\/span><\/i> dipped in hot chocolate before, but Pablo\u2019s mom, who\u2019s from Extremadura, grew up with it. I\u2019m happy she\u2019s passed it onto us.<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

We\u2019re probably supposed to just choose one thing for breakfast, but I can\u2019t help but dig into both. The <\/span>rosc\u00f3n <\/span><\/i>is doughy and sweet, and goes perfectly with the coffee. The migas<\/em> are salty, pork-fat goodness, and Pablo passes all of his fried garlic cloves\u2014my favorite bit\u2014over to my plate. I scoop them up with my spoon and do just as the Spaniards do, dunking them into my warm mug of hot chocolate. We do this every year, without fail. Gifts, laughter, crackling fire, cake, <\/span>migas<\/span><\/i>, coffee & hot chocolate.<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Breakfast
Have you ever seen such a gorgeous breakfast spread?<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

And maybe that\u2019s why I\u2019m happy. This feels like home. I didn\u2019t grow up opening gifts with the people I now call family, and these aren\u2019t the traditions my parents showed me or the foods I\u2019ve always eaten. But they\u2019re mine now.<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n \t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This post is part of our Love Letter series, first-person accounts of what we love about Seville. I’d like to tell you about my favorite meal in the entire year. That’s #1 out of 1,095 (if we’re going with a solid 3 meals a day, which as a born-and-raised Midwesterner, I am). But to let you into […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":10,"featured_media":18189,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_oasis_is_in_workflow":0,"_oasis_original":0,"_oasis_task_priority":"","inline_featured_image":false},"categories":[1856,81],"tags":[206,1994,281,326,1942],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nDevour Tours<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"http:\/\/dev.devourtours.com\/blog\/a-love-letter-to-breakfast-on-three-kings-day\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"A Love Letter to Breakfast on Three Kings Day\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Maybe it\u2019s all the cava from the night before, or that post-gift opening buzz, or the fact that we have nothing to do today but lounge around in pajamas. But as I sit down and look around, I\u2019m happy. There\u2019s freshly brewed coffee and a jug of warm, thick hot chocolate on the table. On one side of the table there\u2019s a rosc\u00f3n de Reyes, a yeasted cake filled with fresh whipped cream and topped with candied fruit. 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