Spanish Knife

This post is long overdue but here’s a little recollection about the holiday we went on some time back, when it was right smack in the middle of the busiest time of the academic year. Swarmed by the mind-numbing workload of assignments and essays, W and I decided to make a trip to sunny Malaga as a means of escaping the winter in London that wouldn’t go away. It was already April.

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One of the first things we did after stepping foot in Malaga, was to head to the supermarket to feed our hungry bellies, and among bread rolls, ham and salad leaves, we put a small utility knife onto the shopping list. W knows I have a real knack for buying knives whenever I can, and this time was a legitimate opportunity. For only €3, this little thing would serve to play a pivotal role in our meals over the next week.

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After a convenient sharpening upon the cast iron railing of our wee balcony, the knife was sharp enough to slice through luscious beef tomatoes and finely chop whole bunches of parsley. We even managed to use it for shaving the hunk of cumin and black pepper hard cheese that we bought from the central market! All thanks to the small sharp knife, we had gourmet sandwiches and bits of antipasti here and there, throughout the holiday.

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One thing to note is, if you’re planning on eating cheap while on a shoestring budget, a good knife is all you really need.

Unfortunately, flying on planes without check-in luggage means the knife doesn’t get to come along. Just so that I wouldn’t look like a dodgy knife-wielding character trolling the tourist-filled streets of Malaga, W insisted that I place the knife back in its original packaging and pack it well in a plastic bag among many other bits of trash, all before dumping the whole lot inconspicuously into a roadside bin.

Bummer.

x, K

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