parisienne aspirations since 2014


Life lesson: If you are invited by an enthusiastic Spaniard and his American bestie for a weekend of cow consumption in a small Spanish town do not hesitate with your response. Opportunities like these must be grasped with both hands, and a knife and fork and a lot of red wine and beer to wash it down. For who knows when you’ll ever be able to reply to your friends and families questions on why you went to Spain with a simple reply; “I went to eat a full cow”.

On Saturday Hailey, Jono, Remi, Marine, Hugh and I flew from Paris ORLY to Malaga to join Guillermo, Scott and their collection of assorted friends from all over to partake in the annual meat eating festivities in the small town of Campillos.

Priorities for the three lads – road trip fuel. Never mind that we were preparing to eat a large amount of animal.

We arrived after an hour journey first to swing by the restaurant where the cow was already on rotation. 

Next we headed to MEAT the rest of the gang at the Casa san yellow-os (definitely not the name).

A very excited young man couldn’t wait to see his team mate who had retired after the season’s end.

“heeellloooooo!!! hehehehhe ”

Cuddles happened. Man cuddles… muddles.

Introducing the star of the show Guillermo. A.K.A. The man behind the meat.

After regrouping and refreshing we climbed in the cars and headed back to restaurant, stomachs rumbling.

Just like an episode of friends.

The chef gave the thumbs up and a crowd gathered with plates held in the air chanting “COW CHOW COW CHOW”*

*half of that sentence is made up.

Let’s get this line moooo-ving!! (said noone, everyone spoke Spanish and my cow puns were not understood nor appreciated).

Paleo life, protein life. It’s this new vegetable free diet that everyone is doing. Seriously vegetables are terrible, nasty little things.

I was very proud of my Zimbabwean friend. She displayed her African roots with class, attractiveness and via her selection of a ginormous bone.

Civilised ladies.

There she is… Miss Africa 2015.

Speech, speech, speech! This one was performed by a Scottish lad so we really had no idea what he said but clapped anyway.

Eventually we all got around to toasting the Spaniard!

Cheers, Gracias, Sante, COW!

A large cheer was afforded to the food magician (chef) who performed miracles and created muchos bienos foodos.

Lunch finished in time for the All Blacks v South Africa game. I was the only Kiwi there so naturally performed the haka – I didn’t obviously that’s culturally insensitive for a woman to perform but I did feel a great sense of pride and relief at the end result. Poor Jono.

Unimpressed statue cared not for the rugby.

Sunset watching and drinking continued for the rest of the night.

Sunday morning we leapt out of bed with daylight savings on our side, thank you additional hour I love you,

Golden, doughy, curly, morsels – and if you think they’re not a breakfast food… well I churros not to listen to you.

In a zen like state. Dough nut interrupt breakfast Hugh.

A little bakery visit never hurt anyone. Apart from the gingerbread man RIP.

Mum if you’re looking at this and need ideas for my christmas present look no further. The croissant was ‘Kinder Bueno’ flavoured.

Our old friend ‘the sun’ appeared in the sky and we all rejoiced and lounged around waiting for lunch. A good Sunday can be measured by the hours dedicated to waiting for food with nothing else to do.

Two men appeared (they were known to us) with a large foil covered pan.

You know what time it is…


Now to digest by going swimming! That’s what the rules are right? Eat as much rice and chicken as you can and then swim straight away. You will sink and you will be merry.

The sun finally set on our quick Spanish excursion and we headed to a Spanish bar before the drive back to Malaga airport. Gracias again to Guillermo, his papa, sister and angelic girlfriend Riki for the hospitality. Time to fire up the hungi and invite everyone to the suburbs of Christchurch for a traditional dinner of fish and chips. Seriously dad you need to think of something…

I am not surprisingly still feeling muchos full-os two days later. I cow-nt myself lucky to have experienced such a weekend. As the Spanish would say… DELICIOSA VACA!

4 Responses to “COW DOWN CHOW DOWN!”

    • paristhethird

      Haha thanks Bec. I would love to have it in the entry way to our apartment, but making off with it may have meant I could kiss goodbye any future invitations to another cow chow down… It would be a funny sight to see how unimpressed the face would be staring back as I ran away with it 🙂 xx

  1. monaco

    Please Celia, all your fans are waiting news from you. I follow your big guy with the results on newspaper and I watch him on TV but do not know how your are. I miss your Paris photos and all your comments about the Franch way of life.
    Please feed us


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