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The rain is pouring down on the eve of St. Sebastian. Why should we go into the city, for the fireworks, the barbecue-roasting on the squares, if the storm will wash it away anyway? We climb up to the former St. Catherine district of fishermen and sailors, which recently a growing number of bars and restaurants are trying to convert into Palma’s bohemian quarter. On the corner, a coffee shop is alive with light, and in front of it, on large braziers, they are roasting large pieces of meat, as is done everywhere in the city this evening. We go in for a drink. Behind the counter there are styrofoam packs, each having three slices of meat, a sausage with marjoram, two slim chorizos. “Can we also grill it?” “Of course.” Tibor is turning the meat over the embers in the rain, and I hold the plates under the eaves. The coffee shop is packed with local families, the charming children play at a small table of their own. Tibor enthusiastically photographs the patriarch sharing a long string of sausages on plastic plates. In the end he puts three pieces on a special plate, he brings it over to our table. “Bon profit, enjoy it.”
The eve of St. Sebastian in the Hamburguesería Napoli, Palma, 19 January 2014. Recording by Lloyd Dunn, photos by Tibor Nagy.
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