Passing At Noon By Any Of The Squares Or Shady Places Of Madrid, You
Will See Dozens Of Laboring-People At Their Meals.
They sit on the
ground, around the steaming and savory cocido that forms the peasant
Spaniard's unvaried dinner.
The foundation is of garbanzos, the large
chick-pea of the country, brought originally to Europe by the
Carthaginians, - the Roman cicer, which gave its name to the greatest
of the Latin orators. All other available vegetables are thrown in; on
days of high gala a piece of meat is added, and some forehanded
housewives attain the climax of luxury by flavoring the compound with a
link of sausage. The mother brings the dinner and her tawny brood of
nestlings. A shady spot is selected for the feast. The father dips his
wooden spoon first into the vapory bowl, and mother and babes follow
with grave decorum. Idle loungers passing these patriarchal groups, on
their way to a vapid French breakfast at a restaurant, catch the
fragrance of the olla and the chatter of the family, and envy the
dinner of herbs with love.
There is no people so frugal. We often wonder how a Washington clerk can
live on twelve hundred dollars, but this would be luxury in expensive
Madrid. It is one of the dearest capitals in Europe. Foreigners are
never weary decrying its high prices for poor fare; but Castilians live
in good houses, dress well, receive their intimate friends, and hold
their own with the best in the promenade, upon incomes that would seem
penury to any country parson in America.
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