mmm la botija

Eighteen years ago, on a small island of the Canaries, a woman called Debra and a man called David met at a small Spanish restaurant. Two years later, an incredibly beautiful, funny, interesting child was born. This child was, obviously, me.

So the other day I went out for dinner with my family at one of our favourite restaurants - La Botija. My parents met in Tenerife, a small Spanish island, where my mother was a singer and my father travelled to build things. Not too long after, they decided that they wanted a child, and so they moved to Wales (I don't really know why because Wales is incredibly cold and nowhere near as tropical as Tenerife). They had said child, me, and due to my almost-Spanish heritage I have loved, and probably will always love, everything Spanish. The cultures, the traditions, the language, and of course, the food. I have grown up going to places like La Tasca and La Parilla, having Spanish lessons and flying out to Tenerife and Barcelona. Till this day forward, I will always pick La Botija over Cosmos.*

La Botija is a small Spanish restaurant in Warlingham, not too far away from where I live in the middle of nowhere in England. 'La Botija' basically translates as 'jug', 'kid', or 'buried treasure', depending on how you look at it. Spanish, huh?

I tend to love everything about Spanish restaurants - the buzzing atmosphere, the Latina music, the Spanish conversation that flows between my parents to the waiters, and, of course, the tapas. The food is typically encrypted with so much flavour and personality (if that is indeed a word I can use without sounding insane). La Botija especially is run by Spaniards, adding that extra little bit of authenticity that we all need in our lives. I love it - and so am here to share a few photographs with y'all of my last restaurant outing con mi padres. (Hence the fish and steak things)

brighton, james blunt, stevie ritchie, ub40 and pre-16th birthday celebrations

Hey guys! How are you all?

So basically, a little while back *cough*months*cough* my parents took me out for my pre-16th birthday celebrations. To quickly summarise;

- I punched James Blunt in the arm because he didn't pay me attention

- I had a selfie with Stevie Ritchie and watched in horror as my Mum flew insults at him

- I spilt coca-cola all over someone and maybe slightly stained their monotonic jacket

Long story short - you can't take my anywhere.

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