Dear Mom and Dad.

I’ve been thinking. I spend a lot of time eating plain veggies with ketchup. As you may know, ketchup is rather awful in Spain. If ketchup is not a vegetable in the US, in Spain, it’s probably not even vegetable based. I’ve detected no trace of it’s theoretical tomato origin. But I digress.

It’s not that there is a lack of inexpensive fruits and vegetables at hand. In fact, there is an abundance. It’s just that, faced with this cornucopia of plantae life, I am stupefied. I am struck; I lack the imagination and skill to render these basic bits of produce into something edible or appetizing. And perhaps more importantly, I am unable to retain the inherent decent and delicious nutrition contained within these vegetables (Speaking of nutrition, given the dubious quality of the ketchup I’ve been consuming, I am wondering if I ought to be consuming something other than simple Gin and Tonic to stave off scurvy).

So, I am writing to you to request money for cooking lessons. Madrid has many fine chefs, and hundreds of centuries of tradition and culinary culture. I can think of few better places to learn the craft.

This class with it’s instructor, Pilar’s emphasis on traditional but avant garde foods seems like the most optimal beginning. With a little luck and practice, after I complete Pilar’s seminar, I’ll have the skill and toolset to enroll at Universidad Francisco de Vitoria, home of the Le Cordon Blue Madrid program.

As you can see, my hunger is ambitious and won’t be sated by simple cookbooks. I need theory, practice, and polish. With out these, I’m afraid I may grow anemic, or succumb to swede induced hypothyroidism, or worse, get really tired of pinto beans and rice.

As always your loving and devoted, if somewhat tired of scrambled eggs for breakfast, son,

~ash