Madrid: Volume 2: The Steak Incident

Madrid: Volume 2: The Steak Incident
Current mood: Foppish
Category: Pets and Animals

In Madrid we walked a lot. Everyday we walked a lot. All this walking took place after riding the 148 bus to whatever stop we wanted and then walking the rest of the way. Somehow no matter where we were going it seems that the bus only went half way and then we had to walk the other half of the distance. I could never understand why the bus did not let us off right where we wanted to end up. This caused me great consternation and after a couple of counseling sessions, I have determined between me and God not to hold this against the Spainards.

The first evening after arriving in Spain, taking the metro train and subway to our hotel, riding up the tiny elevator to our tiny room, showering and changing, we then went to Plaza Mayor. Of course we rode the 148 to Plaza Mayor for what seemed to be about 8-10 miles, which is probably 3 meters or something. I don't have my ruler with the inches on one side and centimeters on the other so I can't do the exact conversion right now. Then we walked another trillion centimeters or so to the Plaza for dinner.

We ate a resturant that shall remain nameless. This is not for security purposes or to protect the anoniminity of the restaurant because of a scathing food review. It is simply because I don't remember the name and if I did I am pretty sure it was in Spanish anyway. And I am fairly certian that I do not speak Spanish so what good is a name anyway if I can't communicate its full meaning and cultural nuances. It is like telling someone here in the states that we ate at El Chico, which--I have been told by well intentioned yet boring people--means The Boy. Swell we ate at The Boy. Am I the only one that finds this odd?

The restaurant was pricey - I paid about 22.50 Euro for a steak. 22.50 Euro is about 31.50 US Dollars. The steak was delicious but I can buy a steak here at Texas RoadHouse for about 1/3 the price, not to mention the $1100 I would save on airfare. The thing with Texas Road House is that I can park my car about 10 feet from the entrance and walk right in. I can completely avoid the whole bus ride and urban hiking experience and just go right in a eat peanuts and throw the shells on the floor while I wait to eat my steak.

The steak was great. I asked for medium and I got medium. Great flavor, a nice sear on the outside, and blood and juices squirting out with every poke of the knife. I know for some of you pasty skinned vegans and sappy animal lovers out there that is totally mortifing imagery but get over it. I was describing a cow not your favorite childhood puppy.

Then after we ate the steak my good friend Carl (who's name has been changed not so much for security reasons as for the fact that I can't remember his name) took us out into the beautiful Plaza Mayor and proceeded to tell us the history. The Plaza Mayor is this enchantingly beautiful inner courtyard surrounded by gorgeous ancient architecure where the Catholic church used to torture and kill protestants.

The bricks where we stood used to be soaked in the warm, red blood of the forefathers of my faith. These "protestors" stood against the indulgences and the hypocrisies of the church that had taken the vibrant first century Christian faith and turned into a wooden religious institution. Somehow I found myself wondering whether we have almost come full circle since that time. Would the church today kill these men and women all over again? Would I be one of the murders or one of the martyrs? What have I institutionalized and what should I be protesting or revising in my faith journey that needs to die on the bricks in order for my faith to be true to one who called me to the Truth?


Currently listening:
Define the Great Line (CD & DVD) By Underoath
Release date: By 20 June, 2006