When Friends Come Knocking

I set off yesterday morning in high spirits.  I had discovered that Palau Montaner, a beautiful house built in 189 and designed by famed Moderniste architect Domenech i Montaner, had guided visits on weekends, with English tours at 10:30 AM.

When I got there, however, the door was very decidedly locked and the lettering on the door read "Delegacion del Gobierno."  I figured I was in the wrong place, but there didn't seem to be any other grand old buildings around except for a few hotels.

Then another man showed up, looking very eager to gain admission to the building.  He even rang the bell (brilliant), and the door opened to reveal... the very stern face of a member of the Guardia Civil.  He brusquely informed us that the building was only open during business hours, Monday through Friday.  That's when I realized that this other man had a large envelope that he was hoping to drop off.  He wasn't another overeager Moderniste-lover, after all.  Foiled!
Just after these events wrapped up, I got a phone call from my lovely friend Evin, who just graduated from Yale and who has been taking Europe by storm for the last month.  She had arrived in the city the night before and had managed to escape the clutches of her tour group to spend the day with me.  Score! Once I tracked her down, we wandered a bit before stopping for pastries and, of course, endless catch-up gossip.  I find that delicate pastries are the perfect complement to discussions of not-so-delicate matters.

An almond croissant with an almost molten center of almond gooey goodness.

I felt that this approximation of our encounter on the menu was fairly accurate:

After story time, we made our way downtown to FadFest, a display of modern design competition winners across from the giant MACBA museum.

After a happy dance over the joys of student discounts, there were a few moments of silence as we took in the odd collection of prize-winners surrounding us.  Hanging from the air to both sides were mannequins dressed in rather strange outfits.  To one side, they were all wearing fabulous colorblock Louboutin heels and bright, eye-catching apparel

While on the other side they were wearing far less appealing outfits that involved far too much see-through plastic and glitter-covered platform sneakers (for both males and females).

Displays more at eye-level included a series of recent architectural triumphs, many of which included interesting angles or, like the one below, almost no angles.

One floor up was an exhibit of more graphic design-type art.  I couldn't figure out what this was for, but I found it hilarious (there were several others featuring the same cast, too).

There were also some strange textile art winners (embroidered "blood-covered" sleeve over a clean knife, folded "found" jeans protruding in a rectangular mound from one wall) and then this gem, the Drunk Box:

Evin going in the Drunk Box

Our first thought, of course, was that this was where you would keep drunk people.  It was not until later that we realized it was probably just a clever liquor cabinet.
After the MACBA, I decided that the rule for the day should be: (1) Ask Evin what she wants to do and (2) Make her every wish come true.
We stopped by Boqueria market so she could stock up on some fruit and witness the marvel that is Saturday grocery shopping before heading back to Euskal Extre in the Gothic district so Evin could try pintxos.  Never one to turn down food, I tried a few tasty morsels that I hadn't had room for last time.

A surprisingly delicate blue cheese topped with chopped nuts and a tasty apricot-like jam.  And a random green.

This tasted exactly like a deviled egg, but was then topped with a few crunchy veggies and what I think were a few small strips of fish.

Caprese, Barcelona-style

OMNOMNOM Hot goat cheese croquet topped with a fruit jam.  I almost died and went to heaven.  The way to my heart involves melted goat cheese (probably true, since it's now coating all my arteries).

A tasty Spanish omelette topped with what tasted like patatas bravas sauces (aka a garlicky aioli and a slightly hot red sauce)

To make the foodgasmic wundertour complete, we stopped for gelato.  Evin considers herself a connoisseur when it comes to pistachio and a few other flavors, and she proclaimed the gelato here quite tasty.

We then parted ways for a very overdue and very long siesta.  Thanks for visiting, Evin!

Spotted: I went for an evening run yesterday and saw quite a few curiosities.  The first was a series of wooden giants that looked something like these:

While I had heard about these wooden giants, it's one thing to hear about something and another to practically run into as you turn a corner mid-sprint.  Especially when that something towers about 15 feet over your head and oddly resembles a human.  I hadn't expected to see these during my time in Barcelona because they are characteristic of the Festival de la Merced, which happens on September 24th and celebrates the day of Barcelona's patron saint, the Virgin of Mercy.
The second odd occurrence on my run was hearing jazzy music blasted by the Barceloneta shore and coming upon a huge crowd of amazing swing dancers.  Upon closer inspection, this was a public performance of Lindy al Parc (Lindy at the Park) by the Barcelona Swing organization.  It was wonderful and, as watching dancers always does, made me want to join in.  It's rather hard to find a partner when I'm sweating profusely mid-run, so my plans were foiled.  But it was lovely to watch, as well.