When traveling across the countryside of Spain, I find that making room for the unexpected can provide rich dividends. Just about this time last year Ruth and I were planning our trip to the Alimentaria Food Fair in Barcelona. Most of our itinerary was routine, except for a few unscheduled days that we set aside prior to the event – you might call it a ‘wild card,’ an open-ended detour. Our trusted friend Pilar, who knows Spain intimately, told us of a picturesque and secluded town with a Parador/Inn deep in the Maestrazgo Mountains of Teruel, so we decided on a whim to explore in that general area.

We knew that the roads in Spain are fine, even the secondary ones, so we rented a car at the airport for a couple of days and drove southwest from Barcelona winding through orchards and olive groves until we arrived at our destination – Alcañiz. It is a town of 12,500 souls who live at the foot of an imposing XII-XIII C castle and convent. The Knights of Calatrava constructed the fortress and adjoining chapel centuries ago in order to keep watch over a critical mountain pass.

After spending a restful night in the Parador, Ruth and I were admiring the gothic frescos in the chapel only to discover that we were about to be enveloped by a wedding party! As young men of the town were gathering in the plaza in front of the castle – all very suave with sunglasses and suits – the groom arrived in his restored candy-apple red ’58 Chevy Impala! What a happy occasion we witnessed with the families and friends of the bride and groom strolling through the gothic open-air cloister — with many frisky children darting in and out as their extended families proceeded to the chapel. Certainly it was an unexpected joy for us.

At breakfast we had picked up a tri-fold leaflet describing the castle-palace of Valderrobres. As stately as it looked in the folder, we found that the town was not mentioned in any of our guide books – not even the trusty green Michelin. So we set out to see for ourselves. As we drove down the back roads of a region called La Matarraña, we found the byway flanked with almond trees laden with the first white flowers of spring.

After many turns in the country road, the stately city of Valderrobres came into view. The mountain town was liberated in 1170, during the Reconquista, later evolving into the seat of the Kingdom of Aragón. It was the residence of noble families, royalty, bishops and cardinals until it was abandoned in 1656. Now it is a modest rural town.

The most important structure in Valderrobres is an imposing castle built by the same Knights of Calatrava who constructed the castle in Alcañiz – this time 200 years later in the XIV C. I read that this stone fortress is considered one of the finest examples of civil Gothic architecture in all of Spain! And to think that we had just stumbled upon it!

As we entered the gate to the crenellated tower of the castle, Ruth and I stopped by a modest souvenir stand where an old lady was selling tickets for a guided tour. She was warming her feet next to a ‘butano’ portable heater, since it was early in March and there was a nip in the air. While we were waiting for the guide she proudly told us of a folkloric group composed of people from the neighboring villages. Together, in traditional costumes, they dance and sing the ancient songs of Aragón, accompanied by antique stringed instruments, which might have been in their families for years. We bought a CD to accompany us as we drove toward the hustle and bustle of Barcelona. After only two or three hours we re-entered the twenty first century!

So many times when I feel frazzled by the demands of life in our complex modern age I find myself yearning for the simpler days gone by. The truth is that whether we are in Spain or exploring grass roots America, all we need to be is a little adventurous. Last year when we set aside our schedule and left the beaten path Ruth and I found ourselves refreshed — we made contact with a way of life that has been around us all the time. We just have to look for it.

Experiencing the values of traditional Spain has taught me so much about what is important in life. From the first time a Spanish colleague shared a leisurely lunch with me, to the time when an old friend invited me to enjoy a siesta in his parlor after a hearty mid-day meal; I could see how this traditional Spanish approach nurtures hospitality and healthy relationships.

In traditional Spain, close family ties are paramount. Their approach to New Year's Eve is especially appealing to me. I remember standing in a central plaza in Córdoba many years ago with my wife Ruth and our three little boys. It was the last night of the year. As the hands of the clock progressed toward midnight we expected to be engulfed by merry-makers eagerly anticipating the advent of the New Year. If we were in America we would have felt from the crowd an air of expectant optimism that is typical of the American spirit: The New Year will always be a better day, which will bring new opportunities for those who are ready to claim them. The atmosphere in Córdoba was quite different.

As the clock struck midnight the people were only just beginning to assemble in the plaza. I wondered: 'Where are all the people?' Then I chuckled to myself, thinking: 'I should have remembered that Andalucíans are hardly ever 'on time'.' But the sparse gathering at the stroke of midnight had nothing to do with wrist-watches! It was because traditional Spaniards choose to be home with their families on New Year's Eve, rather than in the streets with strangers.

Continuity of life within the family is highly prized in Spain. For this reason acknowledging the passing year is integral to welcoming the new. During the first part of the evening the family is apt to reminisce about the events of the past year -- you might term that time Old Year's Eve - Año Viejo. Then as midnight approaches the family welcomes the New Year, Año Nuevo, with a glass of sparkling cava while eating individual grapes, one for each toll from the bell tower. It is after this time that they go out into the streets to celebrate with their neighbors. This way of celebrating makes much more sense to me. So, in the vein of remembering and celebrating the year that has passed, let me share with you some of my recollections of 2004.

Last March my wife Ruth and I attended the Alimentaria, a vast Spanish food fair, which traces its roots back to medieval times. While there we shared our love for Spanish cuisine by gathering with friends - American and Spanish - in lively tapas bars. I remember admiring the skill of the agile waiters weaving through the crowded bar ferrying plates of jamón and the freshest of shellfish.

An unexpected bonus during our visit to Catalunya was the opportunity to meet a warm and generous couple recommended to us by a member of the La Tienda community. They invited us to their centuries-old stone house near Girona, which they had beautifully renovated. Out the side door we noticed their own grove of arbequina olive trees. They work together to make artisan olive oil and olive oil soap from a medieval recipe! We formed an immediate bond with each other and I anticipate we will be life-long friends. As fate would have it, the four of us were together we heard the news of the terrorist bombing in Madrid. For Ruth and me it was an eerie echo of the 9/11 attacks in America. For our new friends it was a disturbing new feeling.

When we returned home to Virginia I was greeted with a wonderful outpouring of e-mail messages filled with empathy for the Spaniards who had suffered. They came from all parts of the Tienda community - Spaniards and Americans alike. A bond was formed between those of us in America who experienced the sorrow of the 9/11 attack and those in Spain who mourning the 3/11 attack in Madrid.

Six months later I had the privilege of visiting Andalucía along with my eldest son, Tim. He and I will long remember our drive through the hills and fields of Andalucía. Unlike those who live in rural Spain, opportunities for a father and son to spend time together are rare in our American culture, where families become scattered due to economic necessity.

As our family reflects upon the past year, Año Viejo, we are deeply appreciative of our many loyal customers and friends who have been with us through our years of remarkable growth. We are no less grateful for the hundreds of new members of the La Tienda community who recently discovered us for the first time. In 2005 we hope to bring you an ever-higher level of quality and service as we work closely with our colleagues in Spain.

Happy New Year to you! ¡Prospero Año Nuevo!

We look forward to hearing from you in the year ahead.

Don

¡Felices Fiestas!

In urban America many of us are far removed from the natural cycles of the year -- at least along the Coasts. We do recall our agricultural heritage by setting a bountiful harvest table on Thanksgiving Day. I hope that your celebration was one that brought you a measure of gratitude and contentment. We actually had two Thanksgiving feasts, because our son Chris had to leave early to return to Armenia where he and his wife serve at the embassy.

In Spain it is a little different. Autumn harvest is in the air. Farmers in the La Vera valley of Extremadura have already gathered, dried, and milled the autumn pepper crop to make our pungent pimentón smoked paprika. In the wine country of Cádiz the local harvest of grapes is already becoming part of the traditional solera process for making sherry. In La Mancha the age-old saffron harvest feria of Albacete with its tradition of song and dance in traditional costumes is but a memory.

Now winter is on the horizon. The cycles of the earth continue on their way unmindful of how important we may think our human events may be. I remember that it was not that many weeks ago that the Red Sox Nation saw the eclipse of the moon as a portent for their reversal of fortune! On a more serious note, days are getting shorter, the leaves have fallen to the ground, and the bare limbs remind us that the winter season is appreciably different from the rest of the year, in that life and growth is not as evident.

During this time of the year there is a natural human tendency to want to be closer together -- to share each other's warmth and hopes. That is why from antiquity, this is the season for children. In their joyful play and tender interactions they are oblivious to the long shadows. Children are pure life - as any grandparent understands most fully.

It is also a time for us to enjoy being with those we care about, touching others with our love, perhaps even strangers. For all of the hustle and bustle of holiday preparations that we may find ourselves involved - cooking our favorite recipes, dropping off some special plate of baked goods for our neighbor, sending out cards to old friends -- our motivation is essentially to bring joy to one another.

For many of our friends this favorite holiday of the year has a dimension of faith. Today is the first day of Chanukah. Many of our Jewish friends will gather for the next eight days to celebrate their resilience as a people who place their trust in God's unfailing providence. Soon our Christian friends will celebrate the light of God's love coming into the world in the person of a new born child.

Particularly in Spain, this is not an abstract concept. In virtually every shop window is a Belén - a model of Mary and Joseph with the Christ Child huddled in a stable in Bethlehem, surrounded by animals and shepherds. I remember looking in a travel agency window in the little town of Trujillo, amused by the incongruity of seeing a small hand carved crèche nestled in a Samsonite cosmetic case!

I expect we all can recall a time when we looked in awe at a precious, fragile newborn child. No matter what our background, the tender image of Mother cradling the newborn Child reflects hope, and recalls the joy of loving families. However we identify ourselves, we savor in common the opportunity to reunite, nourish our family roots, and share our lives by opening our homes to friend and family alike. I hope that, hard as it may be, you and I are able to remember the purpose of all our preparations - sharing love with others.

Our family, as well as our extended La Tienda family who are working so hard, extend to you best wishes for a joyful holiday season. If we are able to help you by providing products from our neighbors in Spain, so much the better.

¡Feliz Navidad!

Don

My wife Ruth and I love to travel the back roads of Spain. We have visited just about every nook and cranny of Spain over the past 35 years, and our sons have been part of the adventure from the time they were little children. Today they enjoy meeting the local artisans, farmers, and fishermen as much as we do. The terrain of Spain can be rugged and the towns in the varied regions may have distinctive dialects; yet we sense an elemental integrity and generosity of spirit, which is held in common throughout Spain.

We do not need to drive very far to return to the natural way of doing things - it seems to be at the very heart of Spain. I know it is easy to become sentimental about the olden days, and forget about the farmer who had no labor-saving devices to spare his aching back. Nevertheless the traditional worker's self respect depended on the quality of his labor. He took personal pride in what he produced with his hands.

The focus of the farmer is on the quality of the crop he is cultivating, or the animal he is breeding -- with never a thought given to the demands of mass production. I recall an owner of an olive grove who chose to have ample room between his olive trees so that each one would flourish. Because of this decision he will need to follow the traditional way of harvesting the ripe fruit by beating the olive-laden branches with a stick, rather than seeking some time saving machine.

While we were standing there he told me that he was saddened to see that some of the young workers wanted to mechanize the harvesting process. I looked around expecting to see a large piece of farming equipment looming in the grove. However, all I could see were men shaking the branches as has been done for thousands of years. Then I looked closely at a couple of the young men who had strapped a tiny motor to the end of their poles. The motor vibrated the stick so that they could shake the branch faster! Nothing revolutionary there.

Just last month in Alicante my son Tim and I visited with three young women who wanted us to taste the picolimón table olives they had developed. The olives are grown to organic standards, hand picked and processed using no harsh chemicals, no additives to enhance the appearance, and no flavor enhancers added to the brine. They were just plain olives. But they were so good a gourmet friend of mine in New York told me they were the best bottled olives she had ever tasted --- they were almost as good as the olives from a tub in a rural market in Spain.

I have been trying to get a handle on why so many of us value these all-natural items. Is it for reasons of good health or superior flavor? Alternatively, is it a yearning for a simpler time when the product at the market was actually what it appeared to be? I think I arrived at my personal conclusion as I recalled the days when I was a kid and awaited Thanksgiving Day with great anticipation.

We would go over to our grandparents' house for a gathering of the Harris Clan. My father was one of eight children, and they in turn had many children. Somehow we all gathered around the table, which extended from the dining room into the front hall and in later years into the living room (with a supplementary table or two added on).

My aunts were busy in the kitchen making pies and stuffing, cranberry sauce and all the fixings, while my grandfather puffed on his pipe and many of the younger men and boys played touch football. At the appropriate moment we would gather, and the roasted turkey would be brought in to the table to the delight of all. It was golden and flavorful with lots of moist dark meat -- my favorite part of the turkey.

This year, I am awaiting Thanksgiving Day with equal anticipation but this time I will be the grandfather, our sons Tim and Jonathan will be there with their families (including three delightful pre-schoolers). Only our son Chris and his wife will be not be with us, for they are far away in Armenia! I planned to recapture the memory of that wonderful turkey of my past, by ordering a classic heritage turkey, rather than bringing home one of the gigantic white creatures of today, which have virtually none of my favorite dark meat. To my dismay I found that the turkeys of my childhood are literally a vanishing breed. They have been replaced by the turkeys of today -- a product of the industrial age. Through breeding and hormones they are top-heavy -- their breasts are so laden with white meat that they can't even walk!

I now understand perfectly why all-natural and organic food is appealing. It makes sense that something naturally grown without the 'benefit' of industrial additives is likely to be healthier to eat. It is easy to accept that a product is more authentic when the producer grows the fruit, or raises the animal naturally for flavor, rather than for volume or appearance. Besides, the more we appreciate and support the artisan growers by purchasing the fruit of their labor, the more we will preserve the traditions -- which are what we value about Spain.

May you have a warm and happy Thanksgiving with those close to you -- and whatever may grace your table, remember it is the atmosphere of love and friendship that counts.

My best to you and your family,
Don

I am in the midst of reading an absorbing book named “Rivers of Gold -- the Emergence of the Spanish Empire from Columbus to Magellan” by Hugh Thomas. The deftly written volume is filled with countless fascinating details -- including a series of them that confirms my conviction that Spaniards carry the appreciation of food to the highest levels:

When Columbus returned from his first voyage, he visited King Fernando and Queen Isabel at the Monastery of Guadalupe to show his great treasures. Before them he presented not only gold and silver (of which he had very little), but also he proudly displayed exotic living plants and foods that he had gathered in the New World. From what I understand, these treasures of food were what most excited the Court.

The peppers Columbus brought were planted in nearby fields and the strain eventually evolved into the famous smoked paprika (pimentón de la Vera) -- now a central seasoning of Spanish chorizos, lomo and various stews. Soon thereafter Hernán Cortéz brought chocolate and tomatoes from the Aztecs, and the Pizarro brothers brought potatoes from the Incas of Peru.

On the other side of the coin, when the explorers embarked from Sevilla to explore the New World, goats and sheep were aboard as well in order to feed the passengers and crew. On the Santa María, seagoing fare was not confined to hardtack and grog. As early as his second voyage, Columbus had on board 30 rustic Ibérico pigs to serve as breeding stock in New Spain, (so that the settlers would not be deprived of "pata negra"!) In the next two years the herd grew to 300. Believe it or not, descendants of these pigs may now reside here in Williamsburg, Virginia!!

When my son Tim and I visited Spain a couple of weeks ago, we could see that not much has changed during the ensuing 500 years - fine food is very important to the Spanish. Blessed as they are with an abundance of food products, Spaniards literally feast on the bounty of their land. In fact, many Spaniards hardly ever eat at home - they would rather meet friends and family at neighborhood cafés where they eat extraordinary foods as daily fare: truly fresh shellfish, the best of hams and wild game.

As Tim and I settled in to enjoy lunch at an outdoor café in a seaside town, our waiter approached us displaying a tray laden with shellfish. At one end of the oval platter was a huge live lobster waving his claws at us. At his feet were little gambas from Huelva, bright red shrimp from El Puerto de Santa María, cigalas, langostinos, navajas (razor clams) and more. He said proudly, "Pick what you would like. We will weigh it and prepare it for you -- the price is only $100/kilo." Next to us a normal family of six was relishing three platters of shellfish -- they must have consumed a $500 meal! But what a lovely afternoon it was -- to be sitting in the sun along the shore, savoring some of the best seafood in the world.

The next day we took a country road north of Córdoba, weaving through the pastureland dotted with gnarled oak trees whose acorns are the favorite diet of the Ibérico pigs. We were on our way to visit a cooperative of farmers, some of whom were dedicated to producing jamón ibérico, arguably the finest ham in the world, for export to America.

As we toured the facilities with our friend Abel, we realized that this was no ordinary meat processing plant. Here was a group of people who viewed the production of their jamones as a work of art. No expense had been spared in their quest to produce the best. They even record the genealogy of each pure-bred breeding sow and her offspring. They monitor every detail of the lives of the piglets to be sure that they are treated well, with ample room to roam and enough acorns in their diet. This creates the ideal conditions to produce the coveted "pata negra" - a meat beautifully marbled and richly nutty in flavor. As we talked with some of the artisan workers we could sense their pride.

Later, the officers of the cooperative graciously invited us to join them for lunch. On the table before us was an extraordinary selection of meat that was parallel in quality to the seafood prepared for us the previous day. This time there were large platters of jamón ibérico and lomo (loin of pork) as well as unique cuts of Ibérico pork. As if that were not sufficient, also on the table was a plate of tasty lamb, as well as the finest beef steak I have ever tasted. It was an Atkins paradise -- and a gourmet's dream.

Without a doubt, the people of Spain enjoy their food and spare no effort to prepare the best - whether I am referring to the settlers of the Americas 600 years ago, or our neighbors today. They achieve a quality of life which is enviable. This is why it is so satisfying to our family to travel the byways of Spain befriending artisans who honor their culinary traditions. Their products enable us in the New World to participate - if only in a small way - in the quality of Spain.

During this month in which we celebrate the Spanish national holiday Dia de Hispanidad, and our national holiday Columbus Day, I am grateful for the interchange of cultures which makes all our lives richer.

My best to you and your family,
Don

Over the past few years my days have been brightened by receiving messages from many new friends in the Tienda community -- both Spaniards and Americans. We share our mutual love for the Spanish people. Particularly poignant were the personal reflections I received after the terrorist bombing in Madrid last March. For many of us the attack was a jarring reminder of the reality of modern times. We have had to adjust our romantic idyll of this wonderful country with its rich tradition.

The other day I received an e-mail from a Tienda friend which said, in part:

"I am of Spanish descent. I studied in Valencia in the late 60's. I loved Spain, but after a recent trip, I am having trouble maintaining that special feeling. I see Spain developing into an ever more modern country with traffic jams and millions of buildings. I guess I wanted Spain to remain imbedded in the culture and history of their ancient past. How do you maintain your enthusiasm and love for this country?"

These are my thoughts: The Spain that we loved in the 1960's was an impoverished country still recovering from a horrifying civil war where one third of the Spanish men were killed by their brothers. It was normal for us to see mourning women dressed in black. After the civil war came decades of economic isolation during which time people struggled merely to survive. Because of these conditions we visitors got a glimpse into a pre-industrial culture and were able to discern what are the essentials of living -- which did not include cars and autopistas, television or splendid new buildings.

As I moved among the Spaniards in those earlier years I had an insight into what was important to them. Faith, family, and a sense of dignity were what sustained them. I would marvel how even in deprivation they lived with dignity. Their family ties were strong -- their children were dressed beautifully. I saw how these good people bonded together in adversity and preserved their basic values, as they were shunned by the modern world.

But surely I did not want these brave people to become frozen in time for my edification. Life was hard. I wished to see them, armed with these core values, rise like a phoenix from the ashes and become what is now the New Spain. The same qualities of resilience and integrity, which are embedded in their past, are the cornerstone of their identity today.

On the newsstands of Madrid the same week as the bombing, Time Magazine International's cover story proclaimed "Spain Rocks!" The magazine pages were filled with example after example of how Spaniards are the leaders of Western Europe in culture, cinema, the arts, music, and industry. The magazine especially celebrated Spanish chefs, who are in the vanguard of Continental cuisine.

This is how I maintain enthusiasm and love for this country of Spain. Granted, donkeys with grass saddle bags have given way to cars and traffic jams. Prosperity has meant that they, like the rest of us, are tempted by consumerism. But it is also true that because of their quality of life, which in many ways surpasses ours, Spaniards have the luxury to revisit their roots and grow the organic food, recreate the old recipes for artisan products, reclaim the traditional treasures that had been neglected by necessity. And they pass it on to us.

So next week my son Tim and I will take the marvelous AVE bullet train to Sevilla, enjoy a festival of age-old flamenco music, and linger on the shores of Cádiz - a city of past glory. Then we will visit a multi-million dollar new facility prepared to export jamón ibérico to America. At the end of the brief trip we will be the guests of a proud owner who will show us his family's state-of-the art factory in Jijona. For five generations marcona almonds and orange blossom honey have been blended there to make the incomparable turrón candy. Now the tradition continues but by using modern methods.

I am thrilled to see the Spanish people healthy and prosperous. It is also true that I miss the charm of seeing oxen plowing the fields in Galicia, and the conviviality of the local market in El Puerto de Santa María where my friend the fisherman used to carve me a steak from a freshly caught swordfish. But I can't have it all.

¡Viva España!
Don

Dear Friends of Tienda,

It is August, the height of summer, and I dream of what it would be like if my family and I were living in Spain right now. For much of the month we might be enjoying the uncrowded Atlantic beaches of the Costa de Luz -- or exploring the caves of Altamira and the new dinosaur museum with the kids. For throughout Spain commercial activity winds down in August. Many firms close completely so that owners and employees alike can plan extended vacations with their families. Although this is inconvenient to us as importers, I appreciate the value traditional Spaniards place on leisure time with their families -- an attitude toward life that extends throughout the year, not just at vacation time.

When our family lived in Andalucia, all the shopkeepers in our seaside town would close their shops in the early afternoon to enjoy a siesta - a time set aside for refreshment and rest with the family. Then, after re-opening in late afternoon for two or three hours, the shops would close for the day and the owners would retire to their favorite cafes to enjoy tapas with close friends and family members. Perhaps they would savor a caña of beer with some Manchego cheese, thinly sliced Jamón Ibérico, or a sizzling cazuela of garlic shrimp.

Later in the evening some would head home to join their families to stroll about town - the traditional paseo. On a warm summer evening it seems as if the whole town is out on the streets walking about. I find nothing more affirming than to see three generations of a family walking together: a proud young couple with a baby in the stroller, "Grandma" holding the hand of her grandchild, and three generations in warm, pleasant conversation. This has been the traditional way of living for hundreds of years.

In modern Spain and America we also find ourselves part of a culture with competing values - those of convenience and individual autonomy. The slow ritual of personal interactions is thought to be "wasting time." A generation ago we depended on another person to fuel our cars. An attendant, often a local youth, would greet us, pump our gas, wipe our windshield, and check the oil. Today we can slip in our credit cards, pump our gas, and be on our way - sometimes even when the station is closed! We enjoy the same type of efficiency with ATM banking, airport check-ins! We hardly need to see a person.

In many ways this automation is a wonderful advance. No one regrets the elimination of waiting in long lines for mundane activities, or dealing with petty bureaucrats. In addition the new technology broadens our horizons. In an earlier time we could never have enjoyed artisan foods from Spain unless we lived near a large port. Now we can have boquerones in Buffalo, or lomo in Louisville!

But, if we are not careful, we can allow electronic efficiency to replace the human interactions that make the traditional Spanish way of living so healthy. I make an effort to keep the two cultures in a dynamic balance so that we can draw from the best of both. For example, at La Tienda we are always improving our technology so that you will enjoy the convenience of our on-line site, yet we will always make time for you should you like to give us a call and talk together about Spanish products.

The longer our family lived in Spain the more we learned to incorporate into our modern way of life the traditional ways of our Spanish neighbors - taking more time to be with others, thinking of a leisurely meal as a blessing, experiencing a healthier way to spend our days and raise our children.

Isn't the long life-expectancy experienced by Spaniards more than olive oil and the Mediterranean diet? It is a life where conviviality is a virtue, not a luxury. It is a traditional life where the seemingly trivial human events of everyday living - chatting at the market, dining with your family, visiting with your friends - are given the respect they deserve.

Although in both America and modern Spain we may find our automated lifestyle in conflict with the healthy way of life of our traditional friends in Spain, nevertheless it is possible to draw from the virtues of both of our cultures and be the better for it. Our family tries to live this balance every day, and we hope that you and those you love will make time to have a wonderful time together for the rest of the summer.

Hasta Pronto,
Don

This year our family participated in the Independence Day celebration in neighboring Yorktown, Virginia. The high point of the activities in this small rural town was an appealingly amateur parade. Among the groups represented were boy scouts, city and county leaders, members of the local antique car club, and small contingents of coast guardsmen, marines, soldiers, and sailors drawn from the bases that dot the area.

People of all ages were gathered along the parade route -- teenagers hanging out together, retired people chatting while seated on portable chairs, parents with toddlers in their back packs and young children waving at the participants in the parade. Volunteers manned booths in adjoining fields serving hot dogs and homemade sweets to raise money for community activities. All in all, we were not a homogenous group -- we were Americans. What we had in common was that we felt part of a society that seeks to include us all.

Several years before on another July day my wife Ruth and I were a part of another patriotic celebration, this time in northwest Spain. We were in Santiago de Compostela to celebrate the feast day of St. James, the patron saint of Spain, and to welcome our son Jonathan who was completing a 400 mile walk along the Camino de Santiago, the medieval pilgrimage trail.

After a joyful reunion, the three of us soon blended into the warm and engaging crowd gathered in the Plaza de Obradoiro in front of the pilgrimage cathedral. We were standing among thousands of Spaniards from all walks of life, and from the many and varied regions of Spain: Asturias and Andalucía; Extremadura and Aragon; Madrid and Mazagón.

Soon we were enveloped in a light show which was flashed upon the imposing façade of the cathedral. It celebrated the crucial victory of native Spaniards over the marauding Moorish troops of Almansur. The battle changed the course of the history of Spain; much as the British surrender at Yorktown changed the history of America one thousand years later.

As distinct as these two patriotic celebrations may first appear, the essence of each is the same: the affirmation of a common bond. Americans, of a nation of immigrants, experience the unity of a common dream -- out of many we are one: e pluribus unum. Spaniards revisit the spiritual roots they hold in common on the feast day of Santiago who led them into battle.

In either country we enjoy the warmth of ordinary people when they include us in their lives: their wine, their music, and their traditional food. Here in Virginia the local fare is crabs and oysters from the Chesapeake Bay. But I guess the traditional fare throughout America is hamburgers and hot dogs, popcorn and Coke! In Santiago we enjoy the local pulpo, pimientos de Padrón, the Tarta de Santiago almond cake. In Spain as a whole, the emblematic food is the omnipresent jamón serrano.

Sharing traditions is a source of great satisfaction to our family. When we are in Spain we are always on the lookout for families who are proud of the artisan products they have produced for generations. I am sure many of them do not know how important they are: the women patiently wrapping individual 'tortas' (cookies) – much the way the first ones did at the 19th Century stage coach stop; or the farmer who nourishes his grove of olive trees with natural fertilizer as his family has done for hundreds of years in that very soil. To them their work is mundane. To us their livelihood is the substance of tradition. They are affirming their heritage and providing fertile soil for the roots of the current generation.

The breakdown of community is what the news media encourage us to dwell upon - the chaotic disruptions of our culture today. In fact, generating alarm is its lifeblood. But we do not need to be led in that direction. When I stand along the shady streets of Yorktown, with my grandson perched on my shoulders and hear the Fife and Drum Corps playing Yankee Doodle it puts things into perspective.

There are enduring values of family and pride of individual work that we must honor so that they will pass to the next generation. We need to encourage those who embody this integrity in their work and in their lives. That is what our family is seeking to do though many of the products we bring to you at La Tienda.

Atentamente,
Don

A poignant image of forty years ago still sticks in my mind. My wife Ruth and I were exploring the back roads of rural Galicia in our tiny SEAT 600. We were driving cautiously in this remote area of northwest Spain because often we would have to slow down to accommodate a farmer leading his oxen to the field. It was quite a scene: the weathered face of the man and the docile expression of the large beasts yoked together, with rabbit pelts between their horns to keep off the flies.

This particular morning I noticed a farmer behind a horse-drawn plow preparing a small patch of field. His son was by the plowman's side -- he couldn't have been much over 7 years old. They were plowing the rocky field together. Sometimes the father would give the reins of the horse to his son so that he would become familiar with that aspect of plowing. As they worked together over the hours, the father would share his thoughts and his skills with his son -- to help his boy to prepare for his role in life as an adult. The traditions of the family were being passed to the next generation in a very natural way.

About twenty years later, Ruth and I found ourselves flying into Madrid hours after the attempted coup (golpe). Elements of the Guardia Civil had invaded the Cortes firing automatic weapons and were holding about 350 MP's hostage. We had to gingerly weave our way through heavily armed men to get to our hotel room located down the street from the parliament building! Inside the Cortes was high drama.

The king, Juan Carlos, had to choose between the Falangists who would enhance his power, or the young democracy that was hanging by a thread. Many lives were in the balance. In the midst of the crisis that would define his place in history, the king called to have his 12 year old son by his side. Just as the farmer wanted to share his skills and thoughts with his son to prepare him for his role in life, so Juan Carlos wanted his son Felipe to learn what it was to be a king.

A little over twenty more years have passed since that fateful time. The bonding of father and son, king and prince, which started that critical night, has borne fruit. Spain has become the envy of Europe as a prospering democracy, and the nation celebrates a royal wedding where it shares in the pride of Juan Carlos and Sofía as their son Felipe married Letizia.

Today as I write this, Ruth and I enjoy watching our son Jonathan playing with Sarah, his 19 month old daughter. Even at this young age she learns from her father's love and experiences his values. Our son Tim loves to go fishing with his 4-yr old son. When they are out on the boat together Tim teaches Sam how to get the bait, cast the line, and allows him "take the reins" of the boat. These are precious times between fathers and their children.

What a joy it is to be a father and see your sons grow strong as they themselves become husbands and fathers. Fathers provide a foundation for their children, whether they are farmers plowing fields, kings governing nations, or regular men teaching their children what they value in life.

Happy Father's Day, from our family to yours -- con un abrazo!

Tu amigo,
Don

Late spring is an especially gentle time in Andalucía. The rolling hills, which stretch to the horizon with countless rows of olive trees, are blanketed with wild flowers that punctuate the soft grass. The starkness of Holy Week processions is but a memory in the many small towns and larger cities. In a few weeks the hills will be brown from the summer heat, but now it is time to celebrate the renewal of the earth around them.

For a few days at the end of April, Tim and Jonathan visited Southern Spain to call on some of the people who make artisan products available to you at La Tienda. Over breakfast they met with Fermín who provides some of our best olive oil. As my sons drove through the countryside they stopped by to visit with the family which gathers our saffron, and another family which harvests our rice. In Granada they met a small family of potters who will be fashioning for us ceramics typical of the region. It will be a big job for them, so Christmastime will be their goal. Along the Atlantic coast they visited another potter who will be making rustic cazuelas for La Tienda.

We are a modest family company, so we make an effort to support our Spanish counterparts, who also work together as families to provide truly artisanal products. When this is not practical, we make an effort to form genuine personal relationships with members of larger family-owned companies. One of our cordial relationships is with Juan Hidalgo whose family's bodega has been operating since 1792.

So, when business was done, Tim and Jonathan headed for the classic Andalucían town of Sanlúcar de Barrameda. Through there many of the riches of the New World passed by on their way up the Guadalquiver River to Sevilla. After visiting the bodega the next morning they joined Juan at the incredible Spring Fair/Feria of Sevilla. The long rows of colorful tents at the fair grounds were reminiscent of the olive trees which stretched for miles on the hills! Elegant horse drawn carriages were bringing families "dressed to the nines" in traditional flamenco dresses and suits as they headed to their individual casetas/pavilions.

And everybody was dancing -- young and handsome, old and not so handsome, little children and grandmas -- nobody cared about appearances - it was time to enjoy life. Colorful flamenco dresses were swirling as ladies of all ages and their partners enthusiastically danced the Sevillana. No one is permitted to refuse an invitation to dance -- so soon Tim was invited to try his hand with the popular flamenco-type dance. In the back of the caseta Jonathan was enjoying copas of Manzanilla with other young men and feasting on local langostinos/tiny lobsters. As he looked out at the booths where young people try their skills for prizes he was amused to see that rather than competing for dolls or teddy bears, the prizes were chorizo and jamón!

The Sevilla Spring Fair is the biggest of them all, but you can find ferias throughout Spain just about any time of the year. In August there are roundups of the horses in Galicia. In May, the elegant Feria del Caballo in Jerez de la Frontera which features Lipizzaner horses from the Royal School of Equestrian Art. Mid- March is the incredible Las Fallas of Valencia; late June is the Fiestas de Foc in Alicante.

For the Spaniard, fiestas are not a tourist promotion. Fiestas are not even a "life-style": They are the essence of life itself. May you and your loved ones have a joyful time this spring.

Tu amigo,
Don

Spring is the season to celebrate rebirth, whether your spirit resonates with the celebration of Easter or Passover, or solely with the beautiful flowers bursting into bloom. Our family wishes you and your loved ones a sense of peace as together we anticipate the renewal of life around us.

As you may remember, last month my wife Ruth and I were in Barcelona for the Alimentaria food show. After checking in to the hotel, we joined friends for a wonderful evening at their favorite tapas bar. We all knew that we were in for a treat because in Spain the food that is served is fresh and unprocessed. At the tapas bar we enjoyed shellfish that were actually swimming in the Mediterranean the night before!

A couple of days later while I was drinking a chocolate a la taza at a lunch counter in the centuries old La Boqueria Market, I noticed that in the display case in front of me the langostinas were still moving their little claws -- very much alive! Fresh and unprocessed food is a special treat our family looks forward to when we travel to Spain.

In the United States, we have such a vast country "from sea to shining sea" that of necessity national manufacturers seek efficiency of scale to keep the distribution costs down -- and often that involves artificial processing. The premium bread on the shelves of our supermarkets may have been baked 1,000 miles away. The strawberries I select can't be vine-ripened, because the berries would spoil before they finished their journey from California to Virginia.

Technology can produce a loaf of bread which imitates freshness and stays mold-free for over a week. I prefer bread from a home-town bakery where the loaf is as fresh as it would be on my table in Spain -- even though it won't keep very long. I select ice cream made of cream, milk and eggs, rather than buying other brands that appear to be creamier because of artificial additives. To put it simply, at home I have to make a concerted effort to find fresh and all-natural ingredients, whereas in Spain they are much more available.

Our quest at the Alimentaria was to find for you authentic all-natural products prepared the traditional, pre-industrial way. What a satisfying task! We stopped at one booth where our new friend Eleuterio was showing us his organic olives (which had no flavor enhancers). Soon he introduced us to his lifetime friend Jordi whose family makes marmalades that are 75% fruit, and the rest is just sugar -- no pectin and no citric acid to maintain a certain color. Before I met this man I thought 50% was the standard of quality "a cup for a cup -- fruit to sugar." Of course the fruit preserves were not as solid without the additives -- but what delicious strawberry, fig, and even tomato jam! And the quince membrillo was the best I had ever tasted.

Olive oil is another example of freshness and simplicity -- not the cheaper "pure" oil which has been distilled with caustic chemicals -- but true extra virgin cold pressed oil. Actually, there is nothing more authentic: it is really nothing more than fruit juice from freshly squeezed olives. We have two unfiltered olive oils that are the ultimate expression of this -- they resemble "high pulp" orange juice -- so fragrant and fruity.

We just received new organic oil Olivalle which is an example of complete purity. Not only is it fresh, it was grown without chemicals. It is the product of the labor of a cooperative north of Córdoba. There are about 500 different small farms working together to produce this unique oil pressed from Sierra Blanca olives. We heard about it from a Tienda customer whose local church in Arizona gives money to support a community in Andalucía where the young members raise olives organically as part of their recovery program. I first read about this wonderfully pungent peppery oil in glowing article in Time Magazine International. The robust taste of Olivalle is remarkable.

These are but two in a long list of all natural products we have at La Tienda. Our fig cakes are prepared by two brothers in Valencia using crisp almonds and figs -- nothing more. On a larger scale, our Palacios chorizos from La Rioja contain only pork, paprika, garlic and salt. The sausages are hung up to cure just as they are -- with no preservatives.

For many of you "all-natural" is an important factor as you choose the food you eat. For some of you it is essential. So to help you in your selection we are reviewing our on-line catalog and placing a symbol by each all-natural product.

In closing, I would like to acknowledge the many heartfelt letters we received concerning the terrorist bombing in Madrid. I forwarded excerpts of your comments to colleagues in Spain. Some are associated with the Spanish government and welcomed your comments so that they might sense the response of people in America. The overwhelming majority of the messages reflected the strong ties of affection Tienda community members have for the Spanish people. Understandably, there were a few who were impatient with the election results. Thank you again for your many personal notes.

Tu amigo,
Don

Dear Friends of Tienda,

Once every two years the city of Barcelona hosts the Alimentaria. It is a gigantic food fair where producers of fine food display their finest cheeses, artisan hams, wines, almonds, seafood, beverages -- anything you can imagine -- virtually all from Spain. As you are reading this update, Ruth and I are enjoying the Alimentaria, renewing old acquaintances and making new friends while we search for wonderful artisan products which you might enjoy. With the euro being so strong (a 35% gain in the last two years) shopping for value will be a bit more challenging.

The Fair in Barcelona can trace its lineage back to medieval times -- for markets have always been the center of activity in rural societies. A few years ago the market in the town of Alicante celebrated its 700th anniversary. In the earliest times farmers would sell at the farm gate. Then, as the population began to expand, they would bring their produce and livestock to market at a nearby village -- not further away than a day's travel. (Six to seven miles was regarded by thirteenth-century lawyers as a normal day's journey to market.)

Eventually market towns grew in significance as they became the main point of contact between the country people and the world of commerce. Famous fairs which date from the Middle Ages still exist in Cologne, Paris and Barcelona -- cities that are along waterways so that goods can be transported easily. The seaport of Barcelona served as a gateway to the Mediterranean and the Middle East -- the cultural home of the Moors who for 700 years populated a significant part of what we now know as Spain.

Even today we are reminded of markets almost from the time of our birth! If you were born in America the odds are that while you were still in diapers your admiring Mom would wiggle your little toes and recite:

"This little piggy went to market; this little piggy stayed home,
This little piggy ate roast beef..."

Later, we all sung the nursery rhyme:

"To market, to market to buy a fat pig!
Home again, home again, jiggity jig."

Markets in Spain have become increasingly prominent over the centuries as the population has grown and people have prospered. The 2004 Alimentaria version of the medieval market occupies an area of more than one million square feet. One exhibition building the size of a field house is filled with the hundred cheeses of Spain -- most of them artisan, still made by hand. Ten structures are needed to house the myriad jamones and chorizos of Spain.

But despite the vastness of the Alimentaria, it retains the essence of the medieval fair. As in times past, many people still bring their artisan quality goods from the countryside to market. For example, our friend Fermín was able to introduce us to his community's Señorío de Vizcántar olive oil at the 2000 Alimentaria because the night before he had loaded a few cases onto his truck and headed for the fair. His trip to Barcelona from the country town of Priego de Córdoba exceeded the medieval average of 10 miles to the market town, but his was still less than a day's journey.

Here in Barcelona Ruth and I are meeting many friends such as Antonio and Fabiana of the Cazorla olive company. In talking with them over tapas in Sevilla I wondered out loud why the great cracked olives of Andalucía were not available in America. Two months later we received a package with his recipe for the home-style cracked olives that many of you enjoy!

We had lunch with Anuska last spring in rural Pozoblanco. She arranged for us to spend the afternoon with a small group of young men and women who contribute to a cooperative which produces a remarkably tangy organically grown olive oil that soon you will be able to enjoy. We will be looking forward to seeing Isabel, Rosalia, Miguel and Abel who will be bringing us up to date concerning our concerted effort to bring Jamón Ibérico to America.

In Spain, even at a busy fair like the Alimentaria, I find it easy to feel valued as a person, not just as a customer. But one does not have to fly across an ocean to live in that personal way. We can do this in America too. All it takes is a little effort -- choosing to place a higher value on the fruit of human labor more than the bottom line. In this way we foster the personal way of life we admire so much in Spain.

Tu amigo,
Don