FLASHBACK: Cerveceria 100 Montaditos

In the summer of 2005, my Chinese friend Anna convinced me to study abroad in Madrid with her for our Junior Spring semester. I mention her ethnicity, because even though I'm Dominican, she was more confident speaking Spanish than I was. Of course, she learned Spanish in a classroom, five days a week, and I learned it in the barrio. Not everyone knows this, but all Spanish people do not speak the same Spanish. We all have our own cultural colloquialisms that get lost in translation once we cross the border, and it can lead to plenty of misunderstandings. Not to mention, Spaniards pronounce the letter "z" as "th," and they use the "vosotros" tense. The idea that I would have to be a mime for 4 months was freaking me out. What I didn't count on—despite my history of being a picky eater—was not liking the food.

When we first arrived, our school treated us to a few snacks at orientation. I passed. I rarely like buffets at meetings. Then they told us to meet them at a restaurant for lunch, and bought us all paella. I rarely if ever eat seafood. Chalk it up to my deep fear of aquatic animals or the fact that it just tastes like salt, so I didn't eat much. To top off the day, a few us met up at a restaurant for dinner—safety in numbers and all that. I had the chicken. It was a little weird. I figured I just needed to get use to Spaniard menus and learn all the translations, and eventually I'd find something I liked. Until then, I was a frequent customer of Burger King and TGI Fridays. Yes I know, how American of me.

As a part of the study abroad program, our school organized several weekend trips to some of Spain's cities. Places, like Segovia and El Escorial, that tourists rarely think to go. On every trip I played it safe: chicken, with a side of chicken, drizzled with chicken. Then one day I saw what looked like spaghetti and meatballs on the menu…only to discover that "meat sauce" was alfredo style with chunks of pork. The Spaniards are HUGE fans of pork. The cow has no stock here. Babe is king. So I gave up. It was no wonder I lost 20lbs in 2 months. With all the walking and the serious lack of food, I might as well have been on a diet.

Then one magical day in Seville, on a birthday weekend trip for one of my roommates, we all went to Cerveceria 100 Montaditos for lunch. It's a restaurant that runs like clockwork. At each table is a list of 100 tapas, small dishes—each for 1 euro. You check off as many as you'd like (or can afford), bring it to the counter, and wait to be called for pickup. I tried my friend's tortilla española: eggs, potatoes, onions, and a shaker-full of salt. At last! It was like my stomach had finally arrived from America. It got stuck in customs, but once it was cleared, it was ready to party. After that, I was a little more adventurous to try more tapas. There were a few hits (ox tail) and misses (patatas bravas - eck!). I was just happy to finally feel like I was in Spain.

Photos by jordanfischer and E Vön Zita