The story of Triaca

by  |  24-07-2017

I can’t properly remember the first time nor even the first place that I bumped into Santi. I feel that it was in Falset during a Vi de Vila tasting was where we first met followed by breakfast at the Kabbalah Cafe in Falset–the name which of has nothing to do with Madonna’s wonky adopted religion. “I feel like I’ve seen you around Priorat before.” he said to which I replied, “Most likely as I live in Porrera.” “But I’m from Porrera and I’ve not seen you.” “Well, I live right on square and my dog requires a great deal of visibility in crossing the crowds lazily passing their lives away in the bars. But you say that you’re from Porrera… you don’t live there?” “Ah, well not all the time.” And this was one of those moments that comes up often in that while Santi has another house elsewhere, […]
For full access, please purchase a Subscription.