But Why is the Rum Gone??

Following a delicious meal in Spain (en route back to Sicily from the US), Dinosaur and I were each served a complimentary shot of an unknown aperitif.  Our hearty meal had consisted of:  tomatoes and oregano, garlic shrimp, a caveman-worthy mixed meat plate containing steak, chicken, chorizo, pork ribs, and veal chops, washed down with the most refreshing sangria that has ever danced its way across my tongue.  The post-meal aperitif glasses can only be described as both cute and modern – the volume of the liquid within was similar to a regular shot, but the squat, cylindrical shaped glasses suggested a more sophisticated beverage than your run of the mill post-Spaghetti House meal shot of tequila.  However, Dinosaur and I have been burned on more than one occasion (and I do not use the word “burn” lightly here) from the assumption that an unidentifiable aperitif would be pleasant and palatable, therefore we took no chances here.  ("But just sip it," you may be thinking, "Or give it a sniff to better guess if it's sweet and sip-worthy or strong and shot-worthy."  Yes, but Grappa and Roki are also after-dinner drinks that take no prisoners in either the sip or smell department.  Had this liquid proven to taste or smell anything like those vile drinks, mine would have gone undrunk.  I like to think that it's better to be ignorant of your fate, drink quickly, and appear foolish rather than know what you're getting into, refuse it, and appear rude.) We quickly shot the light amber liquid down our respective gullets, only afterwards realizing sheepishly that the liquor was indeed sweet and delicious.  Our server was also surprised that our free treats had disappeared so quickly (his humored expression and involuntary “Already?!” when viewing our empty glasses were further proof that this drink was meant to be savored) and he hurried to replace them with another round of what we learned to be honey rum.  Dinosaur and I were happy to have a second chance at Spanish etiquette, as well as a chance to actually taste and enjoy the liquor that was, thankfully, much more honey than rum.

This “clumsy Americano” situation held extra zing since during our dinner I had remarked to Dinosaur that material for this blog was becoming sparse the further he and I oh-so-smoothly assimilated into European society.  Mm-hmmm...

So fear not, my dear readers, it seems as if Dinosaur and I will continue to make asses of ourselves, and continue to provide you with slow-workday online reading material, for the foreseeable future. 

You’re welcome.

Honey rum!  Aren't the glasses cute and modern?  And wouldn't you be cautious of this liquid if you didn't know what it was??

Mmmmm - Sangria.  This stuff was how Sangria should be: cold and every so slightly bubbly, refreshing and not too heavy or sweet.

Meat. Yum.

The Rota beach at sunset.