All hail the spring roll

Upon my arm I wear a black band in remembrance of the short but precious time that I shared with Chester’s vegan fudge cake. As I sat down at my first vegan meal in Spain, which apparently wasn’t fish (it totally was), I realized how blessed I had been at the cafeteria in Chester. However the Spanish know how to do fruit like the Scottish know how to fry Mars Bars, which would be why my diet consists of 90% mandarins, the other 10% being chips, and 8% of that I regretted immediately at the gym (food is the only time I do maths). After nights of stale bread that was practically assaulted by garlic, pasta soft enough for a new born baby, and a couple questionable burgers, we finally had a vegan breakthrough! Spring rolls. A crackle of crispy pastry right before the second layer of soft doughy saltiness that blankets perfectly roasted vegetables. And they were actually warm — we’re finding that this is a rare occurrence. My stomach is thanking me and the dinner ladies who sighed in relief because i’d finally returned an empty plate instead of just mandarin peel. And now that i’m armed with spring rolls i’m ready to take on Spain.