Someone has left their twenties behind

As some of you may know, Andrew officially left his twenties a couple weeks ago. In celebration of that fact we decided to partake in a little tradition called "calcots". Calcot season comes once a year and this is the area for it.

Basically calcots are like huge green onions that you throw onto a fire and burn to a nice charred black before eating them. And eating them. And eating them. People here tend to gather a group of friends and family for a calcot meal-- it's not really a two person thing-- so we were grateful when a friend invited us along.

Here's how it goes. The above photo is of the precooked calcots. When we got to the restaurant there was a hefty pile of them, three layers high, just sitting outside the front entrance. When we left these were all that was left.

We started off the meal with pan con tomate, another traditional food here. Basically they serve you some bread, some garlic cloves, and some tomatoes. You get to peel the garlic and then rub a cut clove over your bread before smearing it with a half a tomato and drizzling it with olive oil. It's fantastic.

Next came the actual calcots.. They came in large batches wrapped in foil and just kept coming and coming. It's a bit like all you can eat ribs. I don't know if you can tell but we were given little paper bibs and plastic gloves to make the meal a little cleaner, or at least to keep from getting it all over your shirt and under your nails.

Eating calcots takes a certain skill set, as we soon found out. It took Andrew a little while to master it but by the end of the time the second round of calcots was brought out he was a pro. I was holding O, so Andrew had to do double duty stripping calcots for me and himself.

He could describe his technique a little better than I can, but it involved picking one up and holding it by the uncharred green end and then wrapping your hand around the outer blackened layer and pulling down. That's definitely oversimplifying, but you get the idea. You have to strip off one or two layers before you get to the sweet insides.

It's hard to describe the flavor of the calcots. They taste kind of like a sweet onion, but not really. They taste kind of like what you'd imagine a grilled green onion would taste like, but not really. They really just have their own unique flavor, but that alone is only half the fun. Calcots are not meant to be eaten alone-- oh no they are not. They are meant to be eaten with a glorious little dipping sauce that we were given individual bowls of. I imagine we each got our own bowl in case one were inclined to dip their fingers in their bowl after the calcots were gone. It's a temptation because the sauce is a yummy mixture of I have no idea what, but the truth is that the sauce on it's own loses a bit of its magic. Both a calcot on its own and a bowl of calcot sauce on its own are new and interesting flavors, but put them together and the magic begins.

After a dip in the sauce, you raise the dripping calcot above your mouth and slowly lower it in. Mmm Mmm Mmm. This was one time I was not ashamed to be American because it gave me the perfect excuse for showing no restraint and just gourging myself. Andrew estimates he ate at least thirty of them. They had to change both our plates at least once each because they were piled ridiculously high with the charred outer skins.

The rest of the meal was pretty basic-- sausage, grilled lamb, and the blandest white beans you've ever seen. Dessert, a little birthday cake, and we were blissed out and done. Little O did really well considering we left home around 11am and got back after 7pm. Everyone kept telling us what an angel he was and he really was while they were all around. That night he kind of let us have it for keeping him out that long, but it was worth it.