When in Rome-ania: My trip by the numbers
The customs agent scoffed upon reading my boarding pass. He thumbed through a few pages of my passport (which recently turned five) and gave me a puzzled look. "I guess…
How to make Torrijas for Holy Week
Mariquilla, my boss's daughter, came flouncing into my office. "Miss Cat, IIIIIIII need the, um, capirote." Huh? I asked her what it was, or to describe it, thinking it could…