ProBiz Partners Blog

When the topic of travel comes up, there is alway someone who brings up the issues of jet lag and surviving the cramped quarters of hours and hours flying in the cheap seats. I’m also frequently asked how I can work effectively outside of my home office. So I’ll share a few of the tips and tricks that I use when I work from the land of far, far away.

The flight to Europe doesn’t look so bad when you see that there are non-stop flights from Denver to London that only take about 8 hours. I can do that. Um… but London isn’t where I’m going. By the time my head hits the pillow in Dénia I have sometimes been in transit for as long as 36 hours. That´s because things happen like bad weather, broken airplanes, and lost luggage.

The things I do to avoid jet lag are very easy. I always ask for a window seat so that I can see where I´m going but, more importantly, because I can rest my head against the plane and I sleep better. I use one of those funky neck pillows that cost about $5, it folds up nice and neat, and it helps me avoid neck cramps. I avoid alcohol (shocking, I know…. ), and I try to eat light during the flight, focusing on fruits and veggies. The food usually sucks anyway, depending on the airline, so I just think of it as saving up for a great meal when I arrive.

The two most important bits are to sleep as much as possible and to walk around and stretch at least twice during the longer flights. This makes a world of difference.

As for the tools that I love to travel with — I always need my iPod, my noise-canceling headphones, and a good book. The thing that annoys the h$!! out of me with the iPod is that the addition of that clever little “i” in front of the name of anything adds about 50% to the price. I have spent an embarrassing amount of time searching for accessories for my iPod that were good and affordable. The best of the best is my iLuv i901 noise canceling headphones. I’ve always had trouble hearing music on airplanes because of the roar of the engines. Purely by accident I found the iLuv headphones that not only have good sound, but fold into a nice tight little package, and are a fraction of the cost of other similar headphones.

Another iPod accessory that I wanted was a simple case that would securely hold my iPod so that I didn’t have to worry about dropping it or losing it. Again, the prices were unbelievable. $20 for a little chunk of rubber that didn’t even have a strap with it. Love that little “i.” I finally came across a set of 3 silicon cases that fit the iPod snugly and it comes with a neck strap. $9.95 for the set. Sold.

My travel kit:

The last thing that I carry with me at all times — even during the flight — is my small digital camera. I love my Nikon digital SLR, but it’s just too big. I finally gave in and purchased a small Canon that does an amazing job, especially in low light, and it is small enough to tuck into my purse for unexpected photo ops.

With these few tools I can endure even the toughest airport delays and still arrive at my destination ready to go. I may not have any clean underwear, but at least I’m not sleepy!

If you have some tools and tricks to share, I’d love to hear about them. Please leave a comment and tell us how you travel.

Tortilla Española, one of the classic dishes of Spain, is deceptively simple and incredibly delicious. Although there are tons of variations, the original is nothing more than a magical combination of eggs, potatoes, and onion. But once you get hooked on tortilla, you understand just how amazing this trio can be — especially in the hands of the right Mama or Abuela (Grandmother).

You can get a recipe for Tortilla Española almost anywhere. But good luck making one on your own, without a little experienced instruction. Each cook has her (and occasionally his) own little tricks. I’ve been a guest in the kitchens of several great cooks and they have each shared their family secrets, insisting that theirs is the very best tortilla. And they’re all right! So I’m going to share some of their secrets. It’s taken me dozens of tries and at least 10 lessons in home kitchens to finally get reasonable results. My Spanish friends sometimes even invite me to cook tortilla for them. But who are we kidding? They’re just being polite.

Tools:
10″ Non-stick skillet (my new project is to use my iron skillet to avoid the particles from the non-stick surface, but that’s another lesson)
Very thin, flexible spatula
Flat dinner plate

Ingredients:
3 - 4 large fresh eggs (tortilla thickness varies depending on the region and the cook)
2 medium potatoes (I prefer Yukon Gold) — Cleaned and peeled
1/2 medium onion (sweet is best)
Extra Virgin Olive Oil (Spanish preferred — use one that is deep, rich green in color if you can find it)
Sea salt to taste

1. Preheat the skillet over medium heat and fill to about 1/2″ with olive oil — don’t let it get too hot
2. Cut the potatoes in half lengthwise and slice them very thin (semi-circles)
3. Carefully slide the potato slices into the oil and cook slowly over low to medium heat. Do not brown!
4. Slice the onion thin and add to the oil with the potatoes when the potatoes are about half done
5. As the potatoes and onions cook, use the spatula to break them into very small pieces
6. Sprinkle good sea salt over the potato mixture as it cooks
7. While the potato mixture cooks, crack the eggs into a large bowl. Whisk with about 3 Tbs of water until the eggs are light and frothy
8. When the potatoes are done all the way through, are very tender, but not brown, transfer them to a plate covered with paper towels and drain off any excess oil. You may want to cover with additional paper towels and press to remove oil. Careful not to get bits of paper towel in the potatoes.
9. Spoon the potato mixture into the beaten eggs (in the bowl) and mix gently
10. Pour off all of the oil from the pan, but do not wipe it down (leave a thin coating of oil)
11. Reheat the skillet to medium
12. Pour the eggs and potato mixture into the warm skillet and gently move the potatoes around to distribute evenly. Be careful not to scrape the bottom of the pan. The mixture should be very thick with potatoes.
13. Cover the skillet with a loose fitting lid and make sure the heat is medium or less. The mixture needs to cook slowly to cook all the way through.
14. As the mixture begins to set up, gently scrape the sides of the pan to loosen. Do not run the spatula under the mixture until you are reasonably sure that a light golden crust has formed on the bottom.
15. When you are reasonaly sure that the mixture is done enough to hold its shape, run the spatula around the edges and under the tortilla to loosen it. Careful not to break it.
16. Remove the skillet from the heat, place the dinner plate upside down over the skillet and hold in place with 2 thick dish towels. In one quick move, flip the skillet over to get the tortilla on the plate. Quickly put the skillet back onto the burner and slide the tortilla, wet side down, back into the skillet.

Flippin’ the Tortilla

17. Cover the pan, be sure the skillet is on low to medium heat, and allow to cook for just a couple of minutes more. If you cook it too long the tortilla will be dry. Most people prefer it to be slightly moist on the inside.
18. When the tortilla is done, flip it once more onto the plate (clean the plate of excess egg first).

A thing of beauty!

Allow the tortilla to cool for a couple of minutes. Slice into pie-shaped wedges. Serve with sliced tomatoes, mayonnaise to dip, and good crusty bread that has been toasted and drizzled with good Spanish extra virgin olive oil.

Favorite tips from friends:
1. Maria Jose says that if you soak the sliced potatoes in cold water for about half an hour and then drain them well on paper towels before you fry them, that the potatoes won’t hold as much olive oil and therefore the dish won’t be quite as fattening. I’m no food scientist, but it seems to work.
2. Some people prefer to keep the potatoes in full slices. Others like to smush up the potatoes. I’m in the smushed camp. Chelo uses her spatula to dice up the potatoes while they cook into an almost indistinguishable mush. Sounds awful, but it creates a really nice consistency in the finished tortilla.
3. In Spain they have ajos tiernos — young garlic — that looks like large green onions. If you have access to those wonderful things, thinly slice 2 or 3 and add them to the potatoes during cooking.
4. Some people say that you should add salt to the potatoes only, and never to the eggs. I can’t tell the difference. Just be sure to use plenty of salt to taste.

If you try it, report back and let us know how it goes. I’m happy to answer questions if I can, and if not, I’ll ask somebody in Spain to help us out. Bon Apetit!

Perfect late night dinner

When my first granddaughter was born, I was a ripe old 42 years old. Jordan, weighing in at just under 2 pounds, was the most fragile and incredibly beautiful baby girl I had ever seen, and I knew that this little fighter would change my life.

Spending countless hours at the hospital, working full-time, going to school full-time, spending time with our youngest son (who still lived at home), and still finding time for my husband, taught me all kinds of lessons. Most importantly, I had to grasp that I wasn’t 24 anymore, Toto! The rules had changed while I wasn’t paying attention. But I sure as h@$$ wasn’t a typical Granny either! I’d be damned if I was going to retire so that I could babysit and do some occasional volunteer work. Quick Disclaimer: Grandparents who do those things of their own accord, and not out of guilt or a desire to do nothing more exciting than sit in a rocking chair, have my respect and admiration. It’s just not me.

Jordan made me realize that I had two clear choices within the boundaries of the culture that I live in. I could cut back on my work, babysit Jordan, and forget my dream of completing my Bachelors’ degree. Or I could swim upstream; I could be the best Granny I knew how to be, and still follow my dreams. For me, there was never any real choice.

Today I find myself living a life that is shocking to some, and apparently encouraging to others. Because my choices are not always conventional, I have been mentioned in a few blogs, and just yesterday I was featured in Laura Allen’s post “Business without borders” in The Virtual Wire. The most important thing to me, though, is that I follow what author Paulo Coelho calls my “personal legend.” In one of my favorite books, “The Alchemist,” Coelho (roughly translated) writes, “When you follow your personal legend, all the universe conspires to assist you.”

My dream of learning another language, experiencing another culture, living every single day of my life, and — just maybe — encouraging others to follow their dreams, is my personal legend. Still trying to grasp it, but it is very, very real, and I am very, very grateful!!

I can’t believe it’s already time to say goodbye to Denía. But more than that, I can´t believe that it´s been raining for 3 weeks solid and the sun finally came out YESTERDAY! That gives me a whopping 2 days of sunshine before I board the plane. OK, I said I wasn´t going to whine. Enough already.

After searching forums and considering past issues with my host provider, I´m pretty sure that the reason I can´t link my Flickr photo album to my blog is because my host provider, GoDaddy, prevents the connection. I´m not sure, but it´s the only thing that makes sense. It seems that other GoDaddy users have had trouble as well. GoDaddy´s tech support is fairly notorious for being bad. No need for yet another rant. Their worst area of expertise appears to be databases and anything related. So when I get home my first non-client related task will be to change host providers. Fast. Then I can go on with my posts and make the photos available that go with them. Although I won’t be writing from Spain for another few months, I have a whole list of topics that I haven’t even touched on.

Although I miss my family while I’m here, there is nothing quite like charging your batteries when you are living outside of culture. My husband always says that he looks forward to seeing my “Spanish glow” when I return. This time I won’t be quite so glow-y because it’s been so rain-y, but I still feel refreshed and recharged. The challenges have been far fewer than I had imagined. I just have to be more disciplined and stick to my schedule. That’s the hardest part when there are so many tempting things to do. Despite the rain.

One main topic that I have barely touched on is the food. I’m a major foodie, so my time here always revolves around food. Fortunately all of my Spanish friends are also foodies, so we can do some pretty serious damage together. I’ve had the incredible fortune of being a guest in several Spanish kitchens, so I’ll share some recipes, sources for ingredients, and some special secrets that make all the difference in the world.

It’s time to pack up. (muttering Spanish curse words) But first, a mad dash to the grocery store to stock up on my favorite treats — cans of mejillones (mussels), olives, and a couple of bottles of olive oil. And, of course, ingredients for paella. Lunch at my house on Sunday????

Denía in the rain:

My private castle (I wish!):

A little bit of sunshine, finally:

The tiny fishing port in Denía:

Hours and hours apparently. I decided about a week ago that if I was going to put photos on my blog that I would do it right. I created an account on flickr.com, spent several hours editing, uploading, and creating tags, titles, and descriptions for all my photos, and then went to install the most popular plug-in to tie my flickr photo album to WordPress. And guess what? It won’t work, no matter what I do. My speculation is that it has to do with either a sporadic internet connection here (which I doubt, because I had no trouble uploading the photos to flickr), or there is something that isn’t working right in the connection between flickr and my host provider. But I won’t pick on them just yet. Not until I know for sure what the cause is.

Anyway, here are a few photos to tide us over until I can get the entire album connected.

First, a couple of snapshots of Semana Santa, Holy Week. This is a huge festival in Spain, celebrated with more flair in the south than anywhere else. There are organizations of church members who have the privilege of wearing traditional robes, capes, and sometimes the pointed hoods that make Americans shake in their boots. I’d like to understand how the pointed hoods that are such a strong symbol of religion in Spain became such an ugly thing in the US. Anyway, here are a couple of shots until I can get the photo album working.

Semana Santa — Life size statues of the holy familiy and various saints that are carried through the city to the beat of drums

Semana Santa in Almuñécar in the south

I’ll post a couple of more photos as time allows. Unfortunately I don’t have a lot of time left here, this trip. sniff sniff….

I have a ridiculous number of photos, so I´ll keep hammering away at the photo album and try to get it to work. Any suggestions??

Yesterday as I was watching yet another bank of clouds roll in, and hearing myself whine about it — yet again, I realized just how many differences there are between living in Spain and living in Colorado. The more I think about every-day differences, the longer the list grows. Interestingly enough, though, none of those things outweigh the benefits of being in a place that you love.

The first time I came to Spain, it was in January. I have never been so cold in my life. It wasn’t because the thermometer said it was colder. It was because Colorado is very very dry. And Dénia is very very humid. The apartments in Spain where I have the great good fortune to stay are all inside huge buildings, with little sunlight. The floors are ceramic tile, and the heat is delivered by small in-room units that most people never use. They just put on another layer of clothes. I’m not used to that. If I’m inside my bedroom, I expect to be warm, damnit!

And I am accustomed to drinking great water right out of the kitchen faucet. Not here. You have to go to the grocery store and buy water. And doing laundry? Not one Spaniard that I know has a clothes dryer. They all have tiny, very efficient washing machines, and outdoor clothes lines. That’s not so bad. Except when it rains for 3 weeks solid. I finally had to bring the clothes-hanger-thingy inside, turn on a portable heater, close up a room, and dry my clothes.

Then there’s parking. I have yet to visit a Spanish town (and I’ve visited lots of ‘em) where you can find a parking spot in less than 15 minutes. I, on the other hand, have a garage where both my cars live in cozy, warm comfort. When it’s snowing, I push a button and the garage door opens for me and I drive in the warm garage and hurry into the warm house. Of course there are parking garages here, but none of my friends want to pay the extra several hundred Euros a year that it costs to rent one. And who can blame them?

You want warm water and fuel for your stove? Call the Butano. The Butane Guy. He’ll come around in a week, or whenever it’s convenient, and drop off a big ugly orange tank of butane that you store IN YOUR APARTMENT, about 15 feet from where you sleep. If the Butano gets too busy and doesn’t get around to you, you just pray that a neighbor has a spare tank they can loan you.

The list gets longer and longer the more I think about it, but the interesting thing is that none of these things matters one bit. I am so accustomed to being comfortable in my own little Colorado world, that it surprises even me that none of these things really bother me, and they most certainly don’t have any impact on whether or not I want to be here. In fact, it’s almsot nice to be kicked out of my comfort zone, and realize that comfort is not what matters. So you’re inconvenienced a little bit. So what? A little change in comfort level just makes the experience richer. Somehow the paella tastes better cooked over butane or, if you’re really lucky, you’ll find one cooked over wood (and, lucky me, will be doing exactly that on Saturday). Driving around in circles looking for a parking place is just not that big of a deal when you open your eyes to the incredible beauty of the one-car-wide streets with bougainvillea-laced balconies.

Yes, it’s been raining for 3 weeks. I wake up every April morning dressed in 2 layers of pajamas and covered with 3 blankets (you think I exaggerate?). And although I will get down on my knees and thank my lucky stars when the sun comes out, I’ve decided that I’m done whining. Besides, my husband just told me they’re expecting 4 inches of snow in Colorado today.

Most people are puzzled by my attachment to Spain. How could an American, with so much freedom and privilege, prefer to be in a country outside the US? My friend, Ardith Loustalet coined a term that explains it all in a single phrase. Ardith said to me “Denise, it’s simple. You love it because it is living outside of culture.” Huh? What the heck does that mean? She summed it up like this: “Living outside of culture means that you are away from your country, so there is no one from your own culture to hold you to the social rules of your own culture. At the same time, you are immersed in another culture where you are really an outsider. So no one holds you to the rules of that country either.” I can’t think of a much freer way to live. Of course that doesn’t mean that you can be rude or stupid. It just means that you can move around with relative anonymity.

Here’s an example. At home I wouldn’t dream of sleeping until 9 or 10am (much less noon or later), and there’s no way I would leave the house without at least some basic makeup. But here I can sleep as much as I want, get up when I want, and there’s nobody who will think I’m a bum. This morning I heard the drums of the Easter Week procession, so I threw on my jeans and raced out the door with my camera. Makeup? Hair? Who’s gonna care? I wanted those photos and I knew I wouldn’t bump into anyone I knew.

I realize these are rather fluffy examples, but you can take it to lots of different levels. As I’ve mentioned before, I can go out dancing until 7am here and although my friends back home think I’m nuts, I realize that I have the choice whether to tell them about my escapades or not. It’s not unusual to stay out all night here, so no one will give me a second thought. In the US I am (for some unknown reason) very uncomfortable eating in a restaurant alone. Here, I don’t feel self-conscious at all. If I’m in the mood for a particular meal and my friends don’t want to come, I won’t hesitate to go and eat someplace by myself.

I can get up when I want to, eat when and where I want to, and stay up all night if I feel like it. In a nutshell, there are no rules. At least none beyond decent behavior. I can breathe deep and set my own pace and my own rules. Ahhhhhhhhhhh……………..

We all know that we are creatures of habit. Most of us look for ways to order our days and create patterns or rhythms that are comfortable for us. When I got my first 3 clients, all in the same month, my daily rhythm was shot to pieces. I struggled to find a way to put in billable time and stop wasting time. I finally figured out a pretty good system that works for me, but then the time came to take the show on the road. I quickly realized that the biggest challenge in working away from my office was finding the right rhythm that would meet all of the needs of my business and my personal life.

I had worked long and hard to create my business in a way that I could take it with me to Spain. I planned very carefully for this first trip, even going so far as to keep it short so that if anything went terribly wrong I wouldn’t be away from my clients (meaning dependable, familiar technology) for too long. I made sure that I had all the backup technology I would need and by the time I left home I was pretty sure that I had things well in hand. The one thing I didn’t anticipate was that I would have to find an entirely new rhythm when I arrived in my adopted country.

The first week was hard. I wanted to go out with my friends and walk on the beach and generally just enjoy being here. I wanted to be on vacation. I didn’t want to think about work. The weather was my unexpected ally. The unusually cool and rainy weather helped me stay inside and focus on what I needed to get done.

I sat down with my friends and we worked out a schedule. I would work during the early morning hours when people here are still sleeping, and in that way I could deliver work to my clients before they started their days. Then I would take a break midday to enjoy the great food and hopefully spend some time at the beach and at the markets. Later in the evening I planned to come back to my desk where I would be in easy phone contact with my clients and I could respond to any emails they had sent, as well as continue the projects I’ve been working on. Of course, the first day of the new schedule, my friends begged me to go to a small town nearby to go shopping, eat out, and go to a movie. They had vacation time and I didn’t. So much for finding my rhythm.

Finally, almost 10 days after arriving here I woke up, dove into a quick shower, and hid in my room with my computer. I was still having a hard time focusing. I’d find the silliest little things to pull me off task. I realized that maybe my new rhythm needed some rhythm. I love listening to music all the time. I could totally live without a television, but music is essential. So I grabbed my headphones, turned on iTunes, and suddenly things began to fall in place. I became super productive and focused. All the distractions were easy to put aside. I learned how to gently say “no” to my friends and to avoid my email inbox.

I knew in the back of my mind that although I had planned carefully, I can never anticipate absolutely everything. I realized that my biggest challenge turned out to have nothing to do with Internet connections or telephones or client files. Thanks to a little additional planning and some great music, I’ve found the rhythm of my work in Spain.

If you have special tricks or tools that you use to help you juggle multiple priorities and balance work with your personal life, please share them with me. There’s still a lot to learn.

Every person on the planet should have at least a few Spanish Sundays in their life. One of the many things that Spaniards do well is Sunday. Pretty much everyone sleeps late and gets up when they feel like it. They have a leisurely cup of coffee. But we’re talking serious coffee, not the watered-down American stuff. Coffee here is a lot like in Italy. Small servings, super strong. After coffee and a light breakfast you can fiddle around the house or read or listen to music or take a walk. The walking is what I prefer. When you get out on the street there are people everywhere. Grandparents with strollers, giggling toddlers, teenagers laughing and wrestling with their friends, or couples holding hands.

If you’re organized you will have made a reservation for lunch (around 2 or 3pm) with friends and/or family at a really great family-owned restaurant that is a short drive out into the country somewhere. The reservation is necessary because you have ordered some type of paella — an incredible rice dish that comes in as many different forms as you can imagine. Good paella is something that is carefully considered and lovingly created by hand. There are fast tourist paellas, but those are like comparing a McDonald’s hamburger with a gourmet meal at Chez Whatever. They have absolutely nothing in common.

So here we are. At a beautiful little old house out in the middle of nowhere, and the parking lot is packed. You know you’re off to a good start. When you enter you typically don’t have to wait because your table is ready, but you might as well leave your American impatience in the car, because it will do you no good here. You sit down and the relaxing, and indulging begins.

First you order a couple of tapas to hold you over until the paella arrives. For me, I always have to have olives, which also come in a zillion different flavors, and I love the smoky red peppers called Piquillos that are roasted and served with either olive oil and garlic or they’re stuffed with a variety of wonderful things. Another of my favorites is grilled baby artichokes. Just thinking about it, I can hardly sit here and type. I want to jump up and run to the closest restaurant. Flavors like you can’t believe.

But I try to control myself because I know that the best is coming. Some people have a salad, but we usually skip right to the paella. I could write an entire book on paella, but that’s already been done. The short version is that paella has a very distinct character and many different forms and flavors. Once you get hooked on it, you’re hooked for life.

Of course, lunch is accompanied by fabulous red wine, which costs about the same as a Coke. Explain that one to me. If you’re really lucky you’ll be in a place that serves “el vino de la tierra” which literally means “the wine of the land” and roughly translated means the local wine. It’s typically young, a little fruity, but oh-so-good.

After about 3 hours you drag yourself up out of your chair and either go for a long, casual stroll, or meander back home and collapse in your pajamas for a nice cozy siesta. When you feel like it, you get up and maybe take another walk (everybody is out on the street all the time, even in pretty bad weather), or maybe rent a movie and stay in.

All in all, it’s a day that everybody deserves. Filled to the brim with relaxation, good company, good food, good wine, and no “deberes” — “shoulds.” Nothing but the good life.