The Secret Power of Fire

For centuries, man has contemplated this scene. Infinite winters have passed since the very first ancestor took a branch on fire after the storm and tried to grab the magic light with obvious result. They, we, learned to handle it, to fear it, to worship it. We handed it down from one generation to another as one of the most vital assets in the archives of our common knowledge. Now, we know or think we know everything about fire. And still, after a whole eternity, we look into the fire, take a deep breath and let our souls wander into an unknown universe of thoughts, hypnotized by the flames that cannot be touched but keep us warm, just like the very first day.

Pa amb Tomaquet - Bread with Tomato

Nothing like a good toast spread with tomato and some olive oil to accompany any kind of food. We call it pa amb tomaquet. Instead of using a slice of tomato to make a sandwich or pouring and spreading some tomato sauce on the bread we cut tomatoes into halves and gently spread them against the toast. You can first rub the bread with garlic, then you apply the tomato and finally you add some olive oil. That will serve as the basis for many ingredients like anchovies, ham, sausage or grilled aubergines, red peppers and onions sliced in strips aka escalivada among other things.

Man and Dog on Alley, Barri Gotic, Barcelona

What's in an alley? They are just spaces surrounded by walls. I mean, if the buildings were not that close they would be plain ordinary streets. There's something in the atmosphere of an alley that is determined by its narrowness, an almost tangible sensation triggered by all kinds of stimuli. There's the bad smell of sewers, of damp walls, of mossy surfaces, the good smell of food or clean laundry coming from very close balconies. Your eyes are bombarded with rounds of large wooden doors and whimsical knockers, exuberant plants entangled in forest-like canopies, old lamps with elaborate ironwork, dark impossible staircases, eclectic windows with cat add-on included. And there's the sound, the sound of too friendly neighbors, their laughter, their cries, their TVs and door bells. The sound of the guys delivering butane gas shouting and clacking on the orange flask, the scissor and knife sharpener blowing his peculiar flute to make people come down. The noise of kids playing in the street like in the good old days. Such is the atmosphere of an alley, any Barcelona alley, like the one where this man is walking his dog.