Pig Lips. Yes, They Really Are Delicious.

This is my last blog post from the Valencia portion of my trip to Spain. A part of me does not want to write this, mainly because it feels like I have to close a chapter in my life when all I really want to do is to leave it open for as long as possible. You know, writing things down make things seem too legit. So concrete. Something set in stone, and then it's done and gone. And I'm not going to lie. My time in Valencia was simply unforgettable. But, I have a duty to my (very few) readers, to tell them this story, especially since all I've been doing is raving about what I'm about to talk about. I suppose a girl like me could just dream, right? (And I will admit, I love to day-dream...and dream at night.)

Okay. Focus. It's already 11:30 PM. Close your eyes. But don't fall asleep. Deep breath. Open your eyes. Okay I'm ready.

Morro. Pig lips. (The Spanish name sounds a lot nicer, don't you think?) Now, how could something that sounds so unappetizing taste so goddamn heavenly? I swear, if we could drink pig's milk, they would be like God. Or Oprah, the female and human version of God. (I'm sorry if I'm offending any vegetarians or devout Christians out there.)

On my last day in Valencia, José took me to El Mercado Central, which is, you know, a market, 0r what I like to call, a museum of food. At least in this kind of museum, you can eat the things on display! So we're walking around, fully engaging all of our senses with everything in our paths, and then I see it. Looking at me dead in the eye. I didn't know what it was. But it was curly. And it looked deep-fried. And I've never tried it before. So naturally, we had to get it.

I immediately open the bag of morro and try a piece. So delicious! So porky! And so deep-fried! "Don't eat too much, you have to save room for lunch!" Jose kept telling me. But I wanted more! I was crying on the inside a little as I reluctantly put the morro away. (I only ate one piece.) Perhaps another day my little friends. Perhaps another day. Or hour. When José is not looking.

Eventually, we make our way to La Lonja for some tapas. We take a look at the menu. Morro! Again! And cue the angels singing! (Oh what the heck, the angels were always singing during my stay here.) We obviously ordered the morro...and some other things which I don't really care to mention.

This morro was prepared a little differently. Still fried, but loaded with salt, and meatier too. And crispy. And hairy! Hairy? Yes! Hairy! But oh so delicious!

So which one was better? The snack or tapa version of morro? Well, I can't say. It would be like comparing two different things. I'll just say it's a tie.

And now, it's 12:40 AM. You see how much I love to day-dream (and distract myself with other things like eating and going on Facebook)? I'm exhausted. But at least now I can finally go to sleep and dream again.