Out Among Humans

Even on the quietest back streets, these sidewalk cafes appear out of nowhere.

BARCELONA – There are hundreds of tiny restaurants with only a handful of tables on the sidewalk and seating for no more than a dozen guests inside.

They use terms like restaurant, delicatessen, cafe and snack bar interchangeably, in mystifying ways. It’s impossible to know if a place is a foodie’s dream come true until the plates arrive. A higher price doesn’t guarantee a memorable lunch.

Many restaurants feature their own specialities and if you ask you’ll hear stories about regional family recipes from the countryside. Sainted grandmothers are credited for all things delicious here in Cataluña.

There will be flavors you can’t identify and even after you check your translation app you may be surprised at what you’ve been served. “Yes, lady, that IS bacon.”

The hole-in-the wall on Corsega named Bar Martin posts a menu of the day that for 10€ ($10.94) offers the choice of a half-dozen first plates and entrees, a dessert and beverage. Two diners will be given a bottle of wine to share.

The lunch will be heavy in rice or pasta or french fries (which alone justify an overnight flight with a stopover in Frankfort.)

There are usually people sitting with a bottle of beer or wine and no food. As much as these establishments pride themselves on their menus, the margins on drinks help keep them afloat.

The woman in the photo, along with her husband, seemed to be working the front and kitchen of Bar Martin without staff. She had to be encouraged to smile.

“Sonrie, sonríe!” whispered her husband. Smile, smile.

Phyllis Holton was born during the pandemic of a century ago .And then only a decade later, she and her neighbors were plunged into the Great Depression.

She was just old enough to understand what it meant to her family’s hatchery and to the farmers it served. She recalls the converted incubator she used as a bedroom. She watched her nation respond to mass deprivation.

Her family moved frequently until she convinced her father to put down roots in Antioch, Illinois. She recounts how the two of them caught a glimpse of Lindbergh flying overhead.

The Second World War came and Phyllis put her clerical skills to work for the Navy. The recent college graduate also answered the call to fill in for public-school teachers who went off to war.

The untested novice taught several grades in a single classroom. She was a veteran teacher by the time Brown V. Board of Education promised equal opportunity for all children.

Few people have a sharper first-hand understanding of the events that have brought our country to where we are today.

Along with her daughter Anne and her son David, she contracted COVID-19. All three are well on the road to recovery.

At 101 years of age, my friend Phyllis is heartened to know that safe, effective vaccines have arrived, that the second impeachment of our forty-fifth president is underway, and that both Anne and David are close by her side.