Mallorca is a special place for me. “I’ve been there!” I exclaimed on the night I met my future husband, Guillaume, when he told me his mom was from Mallorca—though I left off the bit about having gone with an ex-boyfriend. It’s where we got engaged, after a boat ride to a tiny island at sunset. It’s where we got married, inside a horse stable on my in-law’s finca. And most recently, it’s where we moved to open a pop-up sandwich shop.
I’ve lived in Spain a few times before, and though each time I leave with no intention of returning, I find myself, for one reason or another, drawn back in. This long-term relationship I have with Spain has always been more of a love triangle—me, Spain, and our attractive third partner: Spanish food. It’s the glue that's kept us together over the years, even when we haven't see each other for months at a time. Like a moveable feast, I can take the Spanish recipes I've learned and prepare them wherever I go.
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