My Heart Will Go On... and On... and On

Do you ever think about research?  I was pondering today about what good my body will be after I die, which is something I've scientifically considered a lot since reading Mary Roach's book on what physically happens to our bodies after we die (and how practices have changed/differ), Stiff.

This morning, as I performed extractions on heart tissue samples from yesterday's surgery, I could help but say Thanks! to all the animals that have given their lives so we can have pharmaceutical drugs, face creams, physical therapy treatments... basically anything and everything.  Anyway, I like to think that the pig's heart is living on through our work.

So, if you read my post from yesterday, you know that we lost a certain labmate called Victor on yesterday's run.  Thankfully, he was at lab this morning, so Ellie and I breathed a joint sigh of relief.  As a result of the many stories told about the run, however, everyone now views me as a tireless running machine and Victor as sort of a wimp who gets lost.  Poor guy.  He may have even gone the right way... it's all a bit unclear what happened.  Anyway, I'm running with Grand Poobah Ignasi tomorrow morning, and he warmed me I have to "Cuidar a viejitos," or "take care of/be careful with the little old people,"  by which he meant himself.

This is not the only worry that has been on Ignasi's mind.  Apparently, he has been haunted by the image of me sleeping on a bench in Berga at his suggestion and harm befalling me, so he has advised me NOT to attend La Patum tomorrow and instead to enjoy the dancing eggs atop fountains throughout the city.  This means that I will not participate in a fire dance, but I will also not have to endure 4 hours of bus rides, a sleepless night in a strange city, and a full day of work after an all-nighter.  Given that I'm more of a logical, thought-out plan kind of girl than a living on a prayer type girl, I think this is right up my alley.

After work, I had BIG PLANS to go hit up a museum that is free on Wednesdays from 6-8 pm.  I'm not sure whether I went to the wrong museum on that particular street or what happened, but the one I attempted to basically break into does not, in fact, have free hours from 6-8 pm on Wednesdays.  It just has a lot of bewildered staff members who think you've escaped from an insane asylum.  However, I did discover the local hangout for all rebellious teenagers in the city, particularly those who think that wiping out while skateboarding on completely flat surfaces and sitting outside a museum that they've probably never been inside constitutes the epitome of Sticking It To the Man coolness.

There were literally hundreds of borderline emo skateboarding devotees at a concentration unheard of it other parts of the city.
The best part about not going to the museum? Wandering carefree on foot and exploring a whole new neighborhood.  I recognized a street name and stumbled upon one of the Top 5 Bakeries in Barcelona from a list that Naaman discovered.  Called Reykjavik Barcelona, it’s hidden on a tiny side street called Doctor Dou.

The center is made with dates, not chocolate!

It specializes in gluten-free options and uses a whole lot of spelt flour.

I got a veggie quiche,

which was okay (but interestingly I think had a tiny bit of curry powder in it), and a holy-crap-that’s-good apple tart.

It was flaky, topped with golden raisins, and had the edges interestingly coated in coconut flakes.  I was very impressed, but I have to go back and try their specialties another time: poppy seed loaf and walnut bread.  Happily munching, I set off for adventure.  Along the way, I discovered a shop opening (I asked why the heck they were enjoying champagne in the middle of the road on a Wednesday afternoon), stopped in a shop to buy a new dress, and wandered my way over to Le Quatre Gats.

Le Quatre Gats, or The Four Cats, is possibly the most famous restaurant in Barcelona [aside to foodies, El Bulli is no longer around, so that clinches the title].

Founded by Picasso’s friend Pere Romeu in a building designed by his OTHER friend Puig i Cadafalch, it was opened on June 12, 1897 as a tavern-style bar with a pianist.  Picasso had his first solo exhibition at the restaurant and designed its menu and posters.  When it had its own magazine (which ran for about 15 issues, I believe), he designed several covers.  However, Picasso was not the only guy to have a Meeting of the Minds at Le Quatre Gats.  Gaudi and other creative minds got together at the small corners tables, too.

Sometimes, it’s hard to tell whether traveling alone as a young female is the best or worst part of the trip.  Today, it was the best.  I was embarrassed about being all touristy and taking photos without buying any food, but the wait staff, and particularly the manager, took a liking to me and not only invited me in but gave me a personal tour and told me where to take the best pictures.  Because, of course, the walls of the entire restaurant are hung with hundreds of Picasso drawings, sketches, and illustrations done at or for the restaurant.  Casual.

Then, they proceeded to take pictures of me around the restaurant and outside with all the monuments, all while telling me about the history, giving me a little magazine about the restaurant to keep, and telling me to come back if I fell in love with them and couldn’t stay away.  They even scolded me for being in Barcelona for three weeks before I made it to their restaurant.

As I walked down the street, a waiter who had been at Le Quatre Gats popped out of a restaurant further down and invited me in.  The same man owns both, he said, and then he gave me a tour of this restaurant.  Set in a former convent, it has a wood fire on the back wall of the kitchen and a décor equally split between painted tiles that explain the history as a convent and glass cases of signed soccer jerseys from Barcelona/Spain/Bilbao superstars.  I love how everything here has a slightly quirky history (and, almost as often, slightly quirky décor).

Next, I passed by the cathedral, which I mistakenly said I’d visited in a previous post (now revised).  This is the ACTUAL “The Cathedral,” which the city of Barcelona originally clustered around within a giant Roman wall.

I didn’t get to go inside, but I did pass a pleasant hour on its steps drifting mindlessly in the Spanish guitar music strummed by a street performer.

And then, at last, it was time to meet up with Naaman.  To continue our quest for the best gelato, we tried Gelaaati, an Italian gelateria that boasts a huge variety of flavors.Naaman prefer this place (I prefer La Cremeria Toscana), but both were delicious.  And my Biscotto - picture those delectable cookies they serve on airplanes… then picture that spicy melt-in-your-mouth-ness as a creamy gelato flavor – stole the show.  Then a walk through the night to Ciutadella Park, which is beautiful in the moonlight.  What a beautiful city I have in which to simply wander.

Spotted: “Microondas con grill,” or “microwave with grill.”  I had a long conversation with some labmates today about the difference between a grill and a broiler.  It was all in vain, it turns out, because here they sell microwaves with an internal heating coil on top that serves as a broiler but is called a grill.