Speaking on behalf of all those about to taper, this place sounds pretty darned inviting.
'In all the Bierzo one eats well, but Molinaseca, is does not go more. In its restaurants and inns we can taste all the berciana gastronomy like botillo, the inlays, the "chichos", cured meat, lacón, androlla, the diverse ones empanadas, the roasted peppers, the red meats, the lamb and the cabrito, the trouts, the fish of river, the berciano broth, the vegetables and vegetables of its orchards or the squid to the berciana.
And to enjoy desserts: almendrados, spirals, roscones, the chestnuts roasted and in syrup, the reineta apple cake, the bittersweet higos in syrup and, the cheeses. And all accompanying by the good berciano wine and the different types from brandies.
We do not forget that one of the rooted traditions more is to visit the numerous warehouses and to taste bercianos wines. The municipality comprises of the zone of production of six products that excel by their quality: the wine, the reineta apple, the pepper, botillo, the cured meat and the pear.'
[SIZE="1"]Translation courtesy of the good people at
Babel Fish[/SIZE]
Good for Eric Von IronLeg - another great aspect of playing footie is making a taunting opposition eat humble pie - and lots of it. Your reports make me yearn for the halcyon days of ralgex, neoprene and Sunday mornings at the Dripping Pan, home of Lewes FC and very occasionally the mighty Kingston Kestrels, a veritable band of Sussex strollers who, to a man, had absolutely no aptitude for the game whatsoever, yet had more fun than was strictly allowed.
I clearly remember one rain-soaked match where we'd taken a fearful beating - something like 8 - nil down with 5 minutes to go. We won a corner which I took and my fellow centre-half buried in their net with a bullet header. We ran the length of the pitch, all ten outfield players, and swallow-dived into the mudbath that was our own goal area as if we'd won the FA Cup.
We got a severe bollocking from the manager - his wife had to wash the kit.
