The perfect free sample proved irresistible bait on a Friday afternoon in Madrid, reeling my friend and me into a bocadillo bar named BDJ. We knew what we wanted before sitting to see the menu: more of whatever was in that bite at the door. And that bite was of a sandwich called the Mortadella…

“I just don’t even know how we’re going to fit.” “Yeah but that tortilla though…” A very lazy Saturday morning saw my friend and me strolling the streets of Salamanca in central Madrid, recounting the events of the night before. There had been an all-male pregame and a rum and coke with far too much…

After a weekend of total inactivity, I forced myself off the couch and into the shower this morning (ok, more like midday.) The idea was to go out, eat something pretty, enjoy the unusually warm weather and check out how my grandmother’s ring, which I just started wearing as an early birthday gift to myself,…