Ugh. I lived in Spain for two months. Jamon Serrano grows on f**king trees in that country, and no matter where you go, that sh*t just follows you. What kind of crap eating moron would pay $1500 for that trash?!?!
Let me paint you a little picture of what the Spanish refer to as a bocadillo. Imagine taking a piece of Italian bread that has been sitting out for about two weeks so the crust is just hard enough to cut your gums to shreads. After cutting that in half with a hack saw, use that same hacksaw to lop off a couple of slices of the aformentioned jamon serrano from a dried out pig leg that had previously been sitting on a store shelf for several months, and has likely been hanging in your kitchen for several more. Slap those badboys in between the cement bread, close, and go to town on it.
Everywhere you go in Spain, this is the main fare. Sure, you'll hear tales about paella, gezpacho, and tapas and all of the other stuff that is supposed to be world class (but isn't), but this is what you'll get 90% of the time. Flavorless, rock hard garbage.
I had a great time in Spain, but the food was beyond dreadful. Prior to going everyone was telling me how amazing and healthy the food was in Spain, and it turned out be neither.
I'll say it again: ugh. I was having such a great night after a Browns victory until you had to go and bring up one of my most painful, revolting memories. Dick.
