He gave me his business card at Heathrow airport after the three hour flight, from Madrid to London, It was September of 2000. My life was about to be turned completely, upside "down - UNDER"-. Whatever happened after that cosmic meeting on the Easy-Jet plane depended on me. I did not give him my telephone number or email address after saying good bye. Call it self preservation.
When we landed, I knew something happened because I was already feeling little butterflies in my stomach. It was not my imagination, for sure…but "How come? I just met him, and I don't know anything about him except that he is from Australia , he lives in Spain and will stay in my country for only two more years and likes to eat a salty spread called Vegemite. But he is absolutely the funniest guy I have ever met…and good looking, by the way". This is what I was thinking when we took opposite directions inside the airport. Me, going with my sister and her Sri Lankan boyfriend to their home in London, and him, getting the connection flight to Scotland to meet his Australian "friend". She damped Nick the day before he had to go back to Madrid. I was so glad.
The card read: Nicholas McCaffrey, Tercer Secretario, Embajada de Australia, Madrid. I carried this card everywhere I was in London; it was in the pocket of my black leather jacket. I needed to feel the card close to me, in case I lost it...and him. Even if he wasn't thinking of me at all.
I was in London to open my eyes: for quite a long time I was involved in a difficult relationship with a Spanish guy and I had to end it, but I didn't know how- it should have never started, to be honest, but I was too blind and too young. Sometimes you need another person to drag you out of your comfort zone and shake your world. The problem was that I was NOT comfortable in my world of 24 and it was costing me a lot of problems, specially with my dad…until I met Nick, by chance. Although I like to think of destiny.
My parents always believed that Nick was the answer to their prayers- and my mum also thought that Nick looked like Harrison Ford!. She also gave me the two thumbs up.
The way my parents met Nick and his parents met me, deserves a proper post, a chapter number III.
On the other hand, on the other side of the world, Nick's parents were praying at the same time for his eldest son to get settle into his first posting as a diplomat. Nick had a girlfriend in Australia but the relationship of eight years ended shortly before Nick started his new life in Spain - I should thank his ex-girlfriend for that, shouldn't I? - living as a single guy, in a huge apartment in trendy Chueca suburb. Yes, this Australian with his big blue eyes and his cute English accent was having the best time of his life…until I came along and…my whole Spanish family too, of course - but he didn't really know it until we had to go for lunch every Sunday at my mother's place instead of exploring the pueblos of Spain, which didn't make him too happy, let's be frank.
In summary, after all these prayers, I sent an email to Nick, the first week of October and just a few days after I got back from London. That summer of 2000, I decided to enrol in a free course about IT and accounting to increase my skills and being more employable with a recently finished law degree, although the high rate of unemployment in Spain was so depressing that my hopes were quite low.
During one of those boring hours of learning about accounting - there is a reason why I studied law- I decided to send an email to that Australian guy who probably didn't remember the petite Spanish girl he met on an Easy-Jet flight…I doubt a lot whether to write him or not but my sister Maria, who was doing the course with me, encouraged me to click "send" in the email….and I included my mobile number. He called me seconds after receiving my email, in the middle of my class, so I had to excuse myself and went to the bathroom to talk.
That talk ended in our first date in La Plaza Mayor with his sister Jane who was visiting him for a few weeks, and my friend Nancy. We both needed some "fake" support to break the ice. Was the chemistry still there after meeting him on the plane? Just in case, I drunk too much sangria and ate nothing. He ate a few tapas and drunk nothing except beer. And the night took over our laughs, the international language between two strange people.
Something began. Something changed in our lives. It was the start of a relationship with many chapters…that now belong to my blog which I share it with you through my cooking.
Happy reading. Happy cooking.
Light lemon and goat cheese ravioli, by YoTam Ottolenghi
Pasta dough:
- 3 tbsp olive oil
- 3 medium eggs
- 2 3/4 cups "00" pasta flour
- 1/4 tsp ground turmeric
- grated zest of 3 lemons
- semolina
- Whisk together the oil and eggs.
- Put the flour, turmeric and lemon zest in a food processor and add the oil and egg mixture and blend to a crumbly dough.
- Divide it into four thick rectangular blocks and wrap them in plastic wrap. Chill for at least 30 minutes or up to 2 days.
- Lightly dust a work surface with flour. Take one piece of dough and flatten it. Pass the dough through the widest setting of the machine and repeat the step, narrowing the setting by a notch each time until the lowest one. Keep each sheet under a list towel.
Filling:
- 200g soft goat cheese
- a pinch of salt and chile flakes
- black pepper
- 1 egg white, beaten
- Combine in a bowl the filling ingredients except the egg white and crush together with a fork
- Use a pastry cutter to cut discs of 3-inch from the pasta sheets.
- Brush each disk with the egg white and place a heaped teaspoon of filling in its centre.
- Place another disk on top and press gently to get out as much air as possible. Seal the edges of the two disks together.
- Place the ravioli on a dish towel or tray sprinkle with semolina.
- Leave to dry for 10- 15 minutes or cover with plastic wrap and keep the ravioli in the fridge for a day.
- When ready to cook, bring a big pan of salted water to the boil. Cook the pasta until al dente.
- Drain and sprinkle with some crushed pink pepper corns, chopped tarragon and grated zest of 1 lemon. Drizzle some oil over the ravioli and around them and a squirt of lemon juice if you like.
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