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Tea Time?


Gosh, I’d really like to write something today, something interesting, or something topical, or something, whatever (I ‘d settle for coherent) but I can’t. I don’t have my decaf green tea.
I’m used to having some decaf green tea when I sit down at the computer. I like decaf green tea, although I never considered myself a decaf green tea person. I cut back on caffeine when I was nourishing others through what I ate, and green tea is supposed to be very antioxidant and super-duper healthy and all that, plus, and this is, as always, the key, doesn’t it have some weight loss benefit? What is it, one cup of tea negates the calories in 20 cookies? Something like that, I’m sure.
And I just like decaffeinated green tea. Is that a crime? Not as far as I know, at least in the territories I inhabit.
So now I’m like a kid who can’t get to sleep without a bedtime story. The problem is, as you might have guessed, that I haven’t found decaf green tea in Valencia yet. I’ve checked in a large supermarket and a health food store, either of which would be likely places, so I’m starting to give up hope. And actually, my tea won’t matter a fig in a few months; I’m sure I’ll have found a worthy substitute. It’s just now, when I’m neither here nor there, that I could really use a cuppa.
When you move abroad (or even to different regions in the U.S.) you leave behind certain foods that are typical of home. The appeal of peanut butter, for example, is limited in Europe. Americans though, thanks to a “food” culture that’s increasingly global, have it pretty easy to find most of the basics from home. No one thanks us for this.
Still, everyone has his or her missing favorites. And so depending on your level of homesickness, how long you’ve been away, how good the food is where you’re living, how your hormones are hanging, etc., you could be one of those expatriates who ends up paying $5 for the lone can of cranberry sauce in Marseilles in November. Or you (read: college students at the end of their semester abroad) could vow to forswear all sliced bread and eat nothing but baguettes forevermore.
Spain is a great country to eat in. And it’s got that Mediterranean diet thing, so in theory you’re eating more healthily. And Spaniards are – yes, we’re back to the key again – thinner than Americans, like everyone else in the world. Although they’re apparently getting fatter, thanks to an increasingly American-style diet (sorry about that).
Which means I’d better adapt fast, before there’s nothing to adapt to and we all just look like the same potato-chip-sucking roly-polies in every rich country around. I’ll have to think about it. As soon as I get a cup of tea.

Share  Posted by Deborah Klosky at 4:11 PM | Permalink

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