Spain: Semana Santa in Seville

Frugality might have dictated a bus ride from the airport rental car drop-off to our hotel in the Santa Cruz barrio of Sevilla, but practicality, the pouring rain and Semana Santa, necessitated a taxi. The rain had canceled the Semana Santa processions that day, yet the streets which became increasingly narrow were clogged not only with the procession participants who had gathered instead at the home church (near our hotel), or maybe the ‘get out of the rain quickly’ church, but also with all the people who had come to stand watch.  Our taxi driver could get no closer than 4 “blocks” from the hotel and let us out to brave the throngs.  We felt like salmon swimming upstream against the current!

The rain in Spain....


stays mainly on the plain?

Later that evening, after we had enjoyed some authentic paella, we walked around near our hotel and discovered a huge crowd going in and out of a church. It was maybe the home church of one of the processions that had been canceled that day or the refuge church when the procession was caught in the rain.  The pasos (floats) were on display and people were reaching out to touch them reverently and madly taking photos!

inside the church during/after the rain

Only partially realizing what lay ahead, we returned to our hotel for some rest and the next day’s touring.

Seville’s cathedral is the biggest Gothic cathedral in the world, the third largest cathedral of any kind.  As we now realize is somewhat the norm in Spain, it was first the site of the 12th century Almohad mosque (the Giralda minaret still stands), then a 15th century church.   The church authorities decided to knock it down and start again, saying, according to legend, “Let us create such a building that future generations will take us for lunatics.”  There was no way to get the entire cathedral into one photo frame,  that is how huge it is!


Sevilla cathedral



la Giralda - the revised minaret now bell tower for the cathedral

Aside from its sheer size, the cathedral is notable for the tomb of Christopher Columbus, its beautiful carved high altar and its position as the mid-point of the passage for the Semana Santa processions. We found a door open, after our breakfast of croissant and freshly squeezed oranges, and went in; not much time to take photos as Mass was soon starting.

impossible even to get the whole height

the cathedral's gothic ribs and the Moorish-influenced windows


tomb of Christopher Columbus - there is some dispute as to whether he's really there!

We sat down in the capille mayor for the Mass, which is also the only way to really see the high altar in all its glory. Still, I don’t take photos during worship so here is only a half view which I managed to capture after the Mass had ended and as the lights were being turned out!


high altar Sevilla cathedral

Once we were ushered out after Mass, we were accosted by women pressing bunches of rosemary into our hands and telling our fortunes, then asking for money.  There was also an enormous line waiting to get into the Cathedral.

These children had other things on their minds!


who cares about big decorative buildings! Let's play soccer!

So we moved on to the Alcázar, (click link for history and description) and stood in the shorter line with some young men, students from, of all places, William and Mary College in Virginia (my home state) and Seattle!  Alcázar was beautiful inside and out.


waiting to enter Alcázar


first set of gardens of Alcázar and the old wall


the plaza looking up a the official apartments for the Spanish royal family, when they are in town


Virgin of the Mariners Altarpiece- blessing and protection for the boats of Columbus


gateway with Islamic inscriptions all around

Great symmetry and great detail are the hallmark of the Moorish architecture.  The kings of Spain who added on or remodeled followed suit.  We hardly knew where to look next!



dome of one of the rooms

more gardens

the artists had a sense of humor - doll's face carved into column

Water was an important feature in the culture.


one of the many pools and fountains


more gardens

the 'bath house'-my favorite photo

Out in one of the many gardens, we got a little excited about a pair of parakeets making whoopee, not for that reason, but because we wondered if they were migrating through.  We scrambled for the bird book and found alas, they are just another introduced or escaped species.














At that point it was time for a break, so with one last look at the beautiful architecture and plantings,


we threaded our way back through the twists and turns of the Barrio to rest.  The Spanish definitely have the right idea about siesta!  We’d rested only a little while, however, when we heard some noise and music in the street below our hotel room.  Semana Santa!


For Christians in the US, Holy Week, the time between and including Palm Sunday and Easter, could be a focal point of the whole church year.   Services are held on Palm Sunday, and then again in some parishes on Thursday, Friday, Saturday and culminate with Easter Sunday.  More the norm is that the mid-week services are attended by some, but not nearly as well-attended as the services on Sundays.  It is as if people move from Palm Sunday to Easter without traveling through (or thinking about) the passion and suffering.

What we were about to view on Wednesday afternoon and evening in Sevilla was nothing like we have ever seen.  Truth be told, I am still processing the experience.

For, if you were from Spain, and especially Seville, (or Portugal, Latin or Central America, Italy, the Philippines–all locations where Holy Week is observed in a very public way) the Semana Santa or Holy Week would be filled with active participation in and fervent, public display of the Passion.  No jumping from the palm-waving high of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem to the glory of the empty tomb.

Your brotherhood’s band, if there was one, would lead the way.


leaders of the San Bernardo procession

young drummer



the first band (there were three for this Brotherhood)

As part of a Roman Catholic Brotherhood  (Hermandades y Cofradias de Penitencia) connected to a parish and as an act of penitence, you might be walking on one of those days in a procession, dressed in a long robe (different colors for different brotherhoods), cinched at the waist with a narrow cord or wide belt, wearing a pointed head piece with a cape attached (capirote) that allows only eyes to be seen, and carrying (in gloved hands) the largest candle imaginable or maybe a wooden cross or a staff.


candle carrying Nazarenos (guide for that section in front)


Cross carrying Nazarones do not wear the pointed capriote

You might be walking barefoot, in socks or in shoes or carrying a basket of candy or small photos of Mary or Jesus to give out to people along the route.  You, as a Nazarenos, would walk as part of a double line of people, in groups of about 20 to 30 people, led by guardians who keep the formations organized by occasionally standing in the middle of the two lines and rapping the end of their staffs on the street.

the guide keeps order


two by two



barefoot; and it was very warm this day

small photos given out

You might be behind the leading band of drummers and trumpets/cornets (if your parish had such a band), or in front of similar bands and military guards


military guard before the Paso

more honor guard, in measured step

that sometimes follow the pasos (large floats bearing a lifelike wooden sculpture depicting an individual scene in the Passion of Jesus, or a weeping Mary, gently restrained in her grief.)  These statues are venerated the rest of the year in your home church or at the home temple of the Brotherhood, and some are considered artistic masterpieces.


statue of Jesus' passion from the paso the night before

statue of the weeping mother of Christ from the previous night

You might be a man or woman, a teenager or a child, as young as 3 and as old as, well, who knows?


a young participant with her basket of candy

this one carried by daddy

this child looked to be about 11 or 12



this man marched but was not garbed in the processional clothing

this person carried a small prayer book

You would walk mostly in silence – I never heard the Nazarenos speak a word to anyone watching along the route, and only occasionally to each other.  (I did see a few people, especially children whose parents might have been on the support side lines, eat a bite, take a drink of water, or check their cell phone messages!)  On early Friday of Holy Week, the Silencio brotherhood walks in absolute silence, not only within their own ranks but also among the spectators.


ok to lift the veil for a drink!

a bite to eat - look at the little girl's expression!

If you were amazingly strong, you might be one of the 24 to 40 men who have the honor of carrying the one-ton paso on their shoulders and necks, hidden from sight by a curtain, walking in complete unison with one another and with the drum corps or music.   In that case you, as a costaleros, would be wearing a sleeveless shirt, trousers, a rolled up ‘sack’ on your head and neck, braces on your arms and knees, and sturdy cross-trainers.  Every now and then, you would lower the paso altogether, and change places with a fresh group of costaleros. You would know what to do by listening to an outside overseer (capataz), who guides the team by voice, and/or through a ceremonial hammer el llamador (caller) attached to the paso.


the ones who bear the paso-this is the replacement group



getting ready for the change of the costaleros

The pasos of Jesus and Mary would be preceded by the  priest and acolytes of the parish, and incense.  At this point, the crowd would take on major proportions!


arrival of the first paso


The paso of Christ de la Salud

through the narrow streets - the ladder is for lighting the candles on the paso



under the paso


When the paso stopped, the band would play a song or someone from a balcony might sing a Saeta, a special devotional song without accompaniment, to Jesus or Mary.  Then the crowd would be very still so as to hear every word.  And at the end of the song, there would be much applause and cheering.


some watched and listened from inside

Children watching along the route would beg for candy during the day but at night their silent requests turned to drops of wax from the 1 meter candles, from which were constructed giant wax balls.  Not one Nazarenos turned down such a request.

building the wax ball












why gloves are necessary!

The streets would be so crowded, with spectators from all walks of life, hands reaching out to touch especially the paso of the bejeweled, canopied Virgin as she passed, a huge throng of mostly women dressed in street clothes following her.

Paso of Mary, caped, canopied, with flowers and candles


hands reach out as one guide looks up

These processions, up to 6 a day in Sevilla, proceed from the home parishes to the Great Cathedral in Sevilla, process around the plaza in front of the Cathedral; enter the Cathedral and then process back home again to their parish.  It’s even more impressive when you realize that some of these parishes are outside of Sevilla a-ways, such that people are walking for 14 hours.  The routes and timetable are predetermined and adhered to religiously.


route of San Bernardo Brotherhood - 14 hours!

If it rains, the processions are canceled, rather than risk damage to some of the pasos.  Which was why they were in the building the night before.

paso of Mary from the night before











The procession we watched on Wednesday of Holy Week, one of the few days in Sevilla without rain, began at the home parish of San Benardo (which wasn’t all that far from the cathedral as the crow flies), a parish/brotherhood with some historic association to bull fighters and which dates from around 1748.  The 2400 Nazarenos of the Brotherhood (men, women children), journeying with the pasos of the 1669 Cristo de la Salud and the 1938 Maria Santisima del Refugio, began at 2 PM in the afternoon and didn’t finish until at least midnight that same day.    They walked and carried the candle and flower-bedecked pasos up and across the Puente de San Bernardo (San Bernardo Bridge), wound their way through the streets of the Barrio de la Santa Cruz, to the Cathedral and then back again. They passed our hotel for about two hours, in the mid to late afternoon and returned again late at night.


after the first pass, the balloons and street sweeper follow!


lighting the candles when they go out

the way back, at night


The paso of Mary of Refuge, making its way back home

For mainline Protestants, all this spectacle is perhaps a little foreign.  Better just to receive it than try to analyze.   It is hard to describe in words the sense of devotion and passion that the procession conveyed.  Here are links to a few videos that might bring it in closer for you.

Click on the photos to bring up the videos.  The music played for the Jesus paso is more subdued than that for the Mary paso.

From Spain 2011 – movies


From Spain 2011 – movies


From Spain 2011 – movies
From Spain 2011 – movies


We wandered around much of the old quarter of Sevilla, taking in the smell of tapas, the color of the polka-dotted flamenco dresses, the shimmer of the fans,  but nothing, nothing, compared to watching La Procesión del miércoles (Wednesday’s procession) which passed directly under our balcony in the late afternoon and returned again, candles lit, much later that evening.  If it had been allowed, I might have sung a saeta, so moving was this demonstration of fervent faith.



Where there is charity and love, there is God.

Adios de España y vaya con Dios!


Spain: Los pueblos blancos de Andalucía

Our first view of Sevilla during Holy Week came during our trip out of town to Guacin.  I will say more about Semana Santa and this apparel in a later update.

Semana Santa begins in Sevilla

Renting a car from Auriga Crown rental was quick and relatively painless, if you don’t count the insurance and fill-up fee.  We are used to us and the car getting the once over on our way out the gate, but there was no one to report to that our car had a major dent in the passenger side door.

With our limited Spanish vocabulary, we were worried about navigating Spanish roads, but we needn’t have fretted.  The roads were well marked and except for an unanticipated detour into Ronda en route to our destination, we found our way easily. (And, I am so glad to be partnered with a man who does not mind stopping to ask directions at the local petrol station!)

One tends to think of Spain as somewhat arid, but this section of Andalucía – and actually into Malaga Province – quickly becomes mountainous, moving from scrubby vegetation to lush, and adorned with pueblos blancos (white villages) that cling to the mountainsides like shimmering jewels in a crown.  The road between them is reminiscent of the Going to the Sun Highway minus the guardrails and frequent turnouts, hence few pictures along our route!  You will have to imagine the “ooos” and “ahhhs”!  This part of Spain is also a central flyway for birds migrating up from Africa and we planned to do some birdwatching here.


on the way to Guacin

wildflowers blooming on the way to Guacin

pueblo blanco

Guacin is one of the southernmost pueblo blancos, sitting at about 630 km above sea level.    On a clear day, you can view all the way to Morocco from the village. Derived from the Arab word, “guazan” (strong rock), the village is perched on the crest of the Sierra del Hacho, and due to its key strategic position was once a major Roman settlement.  Many ex-pats and artists live here, as well as traditional Spanish families.  The main business is tourism.  The streets are as narrow if not narrower than in Cordoba.  We saw why our car had a dent and realized every car we looked at had similar scrapes and dings.  If you want to know how narrow, think of any movie filmed (or stage filmed) in a European city that has car chases and pedestrians jumping back into doorways as the cars scream by!  That was us in Cordoba and Guacin!


narrow streets in Guacin

Once we managed to rouse the innkeeper at La Fructosa  and figured out where in town to park the car (not on the street!), we headed out to the only restaurant open that evening:   a patio setting for tapas once again, with the freshest possible olives and mediocre red wine.  It started to get chilly so we moved indoors.  I engaged our server about the FC Barcelona vs. Real Madrid soccer match we had seen on TV the night before and the second glass of wine was the ‘good stuff’.  Maybe he subscribes to the Cana method.  (The Spanish are near to fanatic about their soccer and posters of the World Cup winning team are posted in most of the train stations!)

courtyard where we ate dinner - Casa Antonia's


We kept our binoculars handy to see the passing Griffon Vulture, but were not rewarded.  So it was off to sleep, dreaming about seeing Africa from our bed, and hoping for good luck in birding the next day.

view looking west from our balcony the first evening

looking toward Africa. If you squint, you can see it, maybe!

La Fructosa, formerly the 3 story Pensión La Española (early 20th century) has been restored by the current owners.  The very lowest floor, where there is an ancient wine press that served for consumption by the original owner’s family and other locals, has been transformed into a restaurant open on the weekends but also where we had breakfast each morning.


the old wine press at La Fructosa

This was the view the next morning.

We headed out on a hike, anyway, guided by a typewritten, two-page extremely detailed description we found in our room. For example: “Continue along the path, pass a rusting black and white sign “Ojo al tren” and you reach a sign “Via Pecuaria”. Here loop sharply to the right, cross the railway track then bear left and follow a narrow path between a fence on the left and brambles on the right.”

We guess it must have been a description written some time ago, with ensuing property and gate changes, as eventually where we were walking and what the paper said no longer matched!  No matter, we enjoyed the cork trees,  the views of El Hacho,  the flowers, Red-legged Partridge, the fields of olives and oranges, and the walk.

olives! (even fresher!)

blue flower in Spain - like shooting star










orange trees

cork trees









el Hacho


If we had continued, we would have been caught in the drenching rain storm that continued for most of the rest of the day!



Based on a recommendation from a birding acquaintance, we drove the 15 km down to El Colmenar on the Rio Guadiaro, to see if we could find the vulture feeding station behind the railway station there.  This road was even narrower and more winding than the one the day before—on the map it looks like a slinky ready to expand and is the sort that could bring on queasy stomachs! When I dared to look, the scenery was breathtakingly gorgeous!

coming into El Colmenar


many goats


organic farming (olives!)

We finally did see Griffon Vultures and a few other choice birds as well, not at the feeding station, but soaring up in the sky where they belong!  That night, Monday, we found another restaurant open and had to go in, not only because it was the only one open but because of its name!


La Taberna del Zorro

Which was, ironically,  located right across from the police station!

Returning to our rural hotel, we found the local church and some signs going up for Semana Santa.


Iglesia de San Sebastian-early 16th century

Maria Dolorosa


which apparently includes a run with a bull!

The next day it was on to Gibraltar. But not before we got up very early for a hike up to the old castle in Guacin.  The Castillo del Aguila (Eagle’s Castle) dates from the Roman era and was later expanded by the Arabs into a fortress.  It wasn’t open on Tuesday, but we thought the hike would make good exercise before breakfast.  What a treat that was!



view from the path up to the castle

castle looking up

We even saw a black kite riding the thermals and a surprise when we reached the summit.


this guy was waiting for us when we reached the top!


view of the descent from the castle

One last view of the village fountain, and we were on our way to Gibraltar.


Gaucin fountain of the 6 pipes

We were holding our breath for good weather and bird-watching en route.  And if birds weren’t in the market, then at least we would see the Rock, with the Mediterranean on the left and views to the Atlantic on the right!

Spain: Charming Córdoba – Sephardic and Kingly Cultures

After the amazing visit to La Mezquita, we weren’t sure what (or if) we wanted to see (anything) next – so moving had been the experience.  We tend to alternate between figuring out our destinations (and doing prior research) and just letting our feet wander and see where we end up.  Now was one of those times.

In the tenth century Córdoba was the seat of Jewish learning, scholarship and culture.

Just down the street we happened upon a priceless gem: one of the remaining Jewish Synagogues.  It was built in 1315 and is the only synagogue in Andalusia to survive the expulsion and inquisition of the Jews in 1492 and one of only three ancient synagogues left in all of Spain (the other two are in Toledo).

After the Jews were expelled from Spain in 1492, the synagogue of Córdoba was turned into a hospital,  a Catholic chapel in 1588 and later housed a nursery school.  It became a national monument in 1885, and was restored by 1985 in time to celebrate the 850th anniversary of  Maimonides, one of the most important Jewish scholars in history.


statue of Maimonides

a very small but beautiful space

A minyan (ten men) needed for worship

the women's gallery


West wall of the synagogue (note remnants of cross from the chapel days)

East wall - oriented towards Jerusalem

Psalm texts written around doorways and the balcony

Today the Synagogue is an historic site, no longer used for worship.  It is also very crowded as tours from all over the world pour in to the tiny space.  But I was worshiping as I read the (translations of) the Hebrew words inscribed on the walls and I was thinking of so many of my friends who were celebrating Passover this same week.

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem:
‘May they prosper who love you.
Peace be within your walls,
and security within your towers.’
For the sake of my relatives and friends
I will say, ‘Peace be within you.’
For the sake of the house of the Lord our God,
I will seek your good. (from Psalm 122)









Just opposite the Synagogue, was a marvelous museum of Sephardic History, with implements, musical instruments, and items from what might be a typical Sephardic household in Spain. The collection comes from all over the Mediterranean where Jews settled during the Diaspora.  There were not so many people here, so easy to enjoy at our leisure, and the explanations were not only in Spanish but also English.  Super!















cabinet to hold the Torah when it is not in use in worship









courtyard at Sephardic museum










poetry from a Sephardic woman poet














By then, we were getting hungry and stumbled upon a small grocery, where the proprietor made us some delicious sandwiches with Serrano jamón, queso, los tomates… while an elderly lady waited for him to finish!  We also got chips, two amazing FRESH oranges, and some Fanta (which I hadn’t had in years!)

the little grocery store where we bought lunch


nice grocer who made us sandwiches of serrano and tomatoes in Cordoba

We took our meal back to the courtyard of La Mezquita and enjoyed the shade of the orange trees (as countless others before us must have enjoyed the same!) while the pigeons begged for food.  Really!  No telephoto needed!


orange trees everywhere

in the Mezquita courtyard

begging pigeon












We finished our day with a tour of the old fortification across the river from the Mezquita.


museum (and former fortification) at the end of the bridge in Cordoba - old roman bridge

The bridge is built on the foundations of an old Roman bridge.  At the other (Mezquita) end, is a monument to Raphael the Archangel in thanksgiving for the end of the Plague. (There are many such statues and monuments, all over Europe!)


statue to St. Raphael the archangel in return for protection from the plague

view of La Mezquita from the tower of the Museum/fort

La Mezquita is the large building on the right. You can see how the cathedral is plopped right into the middle of the mosque.

As we walked back to our hotel, we enjoyed many charming moments in Cordoba.


plants growing between the roof tiles

an impeccably dressed Andalucian gentleman












kids playing soccer in Cordoba

laundry on the rooftops (we can relate!)


The next day was Palm Sunday. We began the morning on the rooftop terrace of the hotel (location of the pool not yet open for the season and blissfully deserted!), watching the swifts and enjoying our grocery store breakfast of somewhat stale croissants and room coffee.



We had hoped to be able to stay for the service in the Cathedral but the timing was not good for our train back to Sevilla.  So instead we wandered over to Alcázar de los Reyes Cristianos (Spanish for “Alcázar of the Christian Monarchs”), also known as the Alcázar of Córdoba, which is a medieval palace next to the Guadalquivir River and near the Mezquita, that served as one of the primary residences of Isabella I of Castile and Ferdinand II of Aragon.

Here there are beautiful and extensive gardens,  a statue of Christopher Columbus with Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand, as well as lots of other ‘eye candy’ – fountains, orange and lemon trees, roses, calla lilies, one little girl making her first communion that day (probably with the bishop who was coming for the service at the Cathedral) and a few feral cats.  I could have stayed all day!


first set of gardens and fountains at alcazar

fountains everywhere

lemon trees

fun 'sculptures'

gorgeous roses












feral cat





statue of Columbus with his royal patrons

a little girl (and friend) getting ready to make her first communion

Our last memory of Córdoba was of the buggies and the bells pealing to call people to Palm Sunday mass! (In Austria the parade of palms is done with pussy willows, as there are no palms readily available.  However, in Andalucía, there are no such problems! Palms –and olive branches – are everywhere!


buggy driver - a fixture everywhere, only the hats seem to change!

buggy driver - a fixture everywhere, only the hats seem to change!


Click on the photo to hear the bells from outside the wall of old Cordoba.


From Spain 2011

Then it was back to Sevilla to pick up our rental car for the drive to Guacin.

Thanks as always, for reading!


Salmorejo or one of the best tastes of Andalucia

As we were traveling throughout Andalucia, one of the constant offerings on the tapas menu was Salmorejo, a thick gazpacho originating in the area of Cordoba.  We tasted it our first night in Cordoba but enjoyed it, as well, in Gaucin and Sevilla.  You could use bread to dip into it, or just scoop out all the yummy tomato goodness with a big spoon.

I’ve made Gazpacho before – the kind with chunks of vegetables floating in a suspension of tomato puree — and also creamy ‘white’ gazpachos, made with honey dew melon or cantaloupe.   This is a sort of cross between the two – no obvious vegetables, but a thick puree of tomatoes augmented with delicacies of the region.  In Cordoba, ours was served with chopped garlic and Serrano ham on top, with bread on the side.

When our French friends were visiting I wanted to serve something that might be new for them, and yet easy to prepare (or so I thought) that we could eat for either an appetizer or a small meal.  As it turned out, I have no food processor or blender at our flat here in Graz, so made do with the attachment to the electric hand mixer that seems to work quite well for soft foods but makes a bit of a mess at the same time!

Nevertheless, this recipe was perfect.  I didn’t follow exactly because I am a kind of taste as you go cook.  I’ve put my alterations in parentheses.


ingredients for Salmorejo

Spanish Creamy Cold Tomato Soup Recipe

Salmorejo Cordobes adapted from Lisa and Tony Sierra
website here

Prep Time: 20 minutes

Total Time: 20 minutes (plus longer to cool in the refrigerator)

Yield: 4 Servings


* 2 eggs – we’d already had eggs that day so I skipped this part

* 2 oz Serrano ham (substitute prosciutto)

* 1 (8 oz) baguette, stale

* 1 large clove garlic – after tasting, I increased to 3 cloves

* 2 lbs (1 kg) ripe tomatoes (or in a pinch or if without a proper blender/processor, use tomato puree)

* 8 oz (250 ml) extra virgin olive oil  – I used only about 1/4 cup olive oil

* 2 oz (60 ml) red wine vinegar – about 1/4 cup  (more traditional recipes use Spanish sherry; I think I added a tablespoon more)

* salt to taste



Hard boil the eggs. Place in ice cold water to cool. Refrigerate until ready to serve.

Cut off hard crust from baguette, then cut into slices approximately 1/2-inch thick. (If your baguette is skinny, like mine was, simply slice the whole thing down the middle and pull out the stale bread with your fingers.  Eat the crusts or save for later crumb-making.)

Pour about a 1/4-inch water into a large glass baking dish. Add bread slices and allow bread to soak for 30 minutes. Squeeze excess water out of slices and place in a blender or food processor. (or in a container that will contain any agitation from a hand blender!)

Peel and mince garlic and place in food processor. (I simply pressed the garlic and added it to the above container.)

Peel tomatoes and remove seeds. Add to the food processor and pour in vinegar. Process. (Because of time and tool constraints, I used mostly already prepared puree and a few tomatoes.)

Slowly pour in oil while processing. Continue to process until smooth. If mixture is too thick, pour in a bit of cold water while processing. Refrigerate until ready to serve.

When ready to serve: Dice Serrano ham. (I first precooked the prosciutto in the microwave until it was barely crisp.)

(optional:  Peel and quarter hard boiled eggs.)

Pour soup into four bowls. Sprinkle ham over bowls.

(Add two egg quarters to each bowl.)


we ate every bit!