I was very excited to have finally gone to a Spanish barbacoa, or barbecue. Francisco’s friend invited me to join about 15 other friends at his house. Like all things in Spain, it started way later than I thought it did, at 9 at night. By then it was already pretty cold outside so us girls stayed and hung out inside, while the guys grilled outside.
Like an American bbq, it involved a lot of meat – chicken, hamburgers, various sausages (no hot dogs, though). Unlike an American bbq, we didn’t put the meat in buns. We had bread of course but just regular bread, no buns. There was no ketchup or mustard. However, there were lots of fresh tomatoes, olive oil and alioli, a spicy garlicky mayonnaise. There was also lots of alcohol. So as expected, after stuffing our carnivorous stomachs, we spent the rest of the night chatting and smoking and playing drinking games.
My first Spanish barbacoa was also the first time I hung out with Francisco’s friends without Francisco. As always he had to work so I went on my own. It was nice to get to know them more and I had a lot of fun. They’re all very nice and very funny, just like all my friends in Chicago.
Apart from the minor details, not much really is different between an American and Spanish bbq. In the end, it’s about enjoying a good meal and hanging out with great people.
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