this is what i ate for dinner last night. i’m not proud of it, but it happened. and it happened something serious, like a brick, like a delicious bundle of artery clogging joy. it’s called a “francesinha”, and is the token dish of porto. you can order it everywhere, and likely for under 4 euro. it’s as common as goddamn water…or mcdonald’s (which yago refers to as my “embassy”). as if being american isn’t embarrassing enough. anyways, this little number comes in the form of two giant slices of white bread filled with ham, chourico & steak, is smothered in cheese and drenched in a white-wine gravy. it usually comes with a mountain of french fries, but i figured i’d opt for the “diet” version. holy heart-attack batman; i can hear my ass growing. do you know what that sounds like?
but for serious, gorging on bread sopped with gravy is a nice change of pace for me. to be perfectly frank, i feel like i’ve been starving to death since i arrived in portugal. it’s been like fat camp, only minus archery and plus gypsies. all my blouses look like maternity-wear anyhow, so it’s unlikely that my adoptive family would take any notice. it’s probably their conspiratorial plan to make me more attractive, more european. yago’s mother must be 100 pounds soaking wet, and his sister too. and here is the american girlfriend, drooling over the second helpings she will not consume. oh no mr. & mrs. de quay, i swear, i’m really full. my two square inches of fish were incredibly filling, i mean it, i musn’t.
what have i learned? being consistently hungry can make a person rather unpleasant. and by “rather unpleasant”, i mean “god awful.” just imagine your worst PMS, times it by ten, and add a generous dash of fatigue. what you’ve got is a really fun time and sister insisting via skype that she express mail you costco granola bars. fiber one, she insists, your favorite. good times.
so to you, francesinha, i salute you. SHAH-WING!
