Sardinas con Pimientos

I ONCE SPENT A MORNING ON THE GALICIAN COAST SPEAKING WITH FISHERMEN AND WATCHING THE WOMEN ON THE WHARVES MENDING THEIR NETS BY HAND. THE WOMEN KEPT THE NETS TAUT BETWEEN ONE STRONG ARM AND THE TOES OF AN OUTSTRETCHED FOOT. MY CONCENTRATION WAS DISTURBED BY A MAN DRIVING UP TO A FISHING BOAT AND, ALMOST CLANDESTINELY, PACKING A WOODEN CRATE OF SMALL SARDINES INTO THE BOOT OF HIS LATE-MODEL MERCEDES. I AM GOING TO EAT THESE WITH PLENTY OF VINO TINTO,’ HE SAID IN A GRAVELLY VOICE. SUD