#also manchego cheese and that one blue cheese from shop near me

[pinacoladamatata]

Can't wait to get snacks for my shark coochie board

[backstreetgrill1382]

Best Pizza Places In Albuquerque

Back Street Grill is by far one of the best pizza places that Albuquerque has to offer. We offer a unique Baja style pizza with authentic New Mexican and Baja herbs and seasonings. When people in Albuquerque look for a great pizza experience. 

Our Pizza nachos & beer combo is always a great memory.  Oftentimes people will order our biggest pizza while sitting on our outdoor patio to enjoy an excellent view of the park while sipping on their beer.

Green Chile Calabacitas Pizza: One of our customer favorites is the Green Chile Calabacitas Pizza which has 

Mozzarella, Gouda, red chile, pico, avocado, manchego crisps, red chile pine nut, cotija, and cilantro.

The Backstreet Supreme Pizza: Another fan favorite is The Backstreet Supreme Pizza

Pork shoulder, mozzarella, Gouda, black bean corn relish, pineapple pico, green chile, pumpkin seed, cotija, and cilantro.

Pizza & Nachos Combo Deal in ABQ

Are you throwing a party for the next game or UFC fight? Try our delicious Pizza & Nachos combo deal! Since we have excellent Pizza & Nachos in Albuquerque It behooves you to buy a nacho platter with your pizza and beer. 

Backstreet Nachos offers the best nachos in Albuquerque with unique nacho ingredients, such as pork shoulder, queso, green chile, black bean corn relish, cotija, pumpkin seed, cilantro, and citrus sour cream.  So if you're looking for nachos to go, or nachos & pizza delivery and pick up.  Why not entertain your guest at your next private party with nachos & pizza?

Backstreet Grill is sure to offer you some of the best cuisine in town. Our food is a favorite among locals, and we only use fresh locally grown ingredients in our food.

While Old Town is very popular for Old Town pizza.  People rarely consider us for Old Town nachos & pizza.  So, if you're looking for reasonably priced nachos and pizza to go, our half sized nacho is only $7.00 while our full sized nachos are only $14.00.

Pizza delivery to go for Pizza Near Me

Looking for pizza delivery to get food ideas.  With a wide array of pizza, organic salads and burgers Backstreet Grill is certain to leave a lasting impression on you! While other pizza places in Albuquerque, offer greasy pizza options.  We have healthy fast food delivery and fast food online order options to fill all your needs.

When getting pizza delivery to go, Back Street Grill pizza has the right balance of fresh ingredients along with authentic spices & herbs that are sure to give a wonderful taste.  So our pizza will still be fresh when arriving at your door.

Old Town Pizza Prices and Quality

At Backstreet Grill our cheap pizza prices and quality is simply unbeatable. Our affordable pizzas are handmade fresh daily to give customers the best possible experience! We take great pride in serving our loyal customers in Albuquerque and we hope to create new customers by continuing to serve the freshest ingredients.  When trying to feed a family or friends our low cost pizza for delivery is a favorite for Albuquerque locals.

Great Service and Dining Experience

The chefs in our kitchen make every pizza with love! Our pizza restaurant is not only passionate about food but we also strive to give customers a pleasant dining experience they will always remember. We are committed to doing our very best. While eating at backstreet you will always feel a part of the family! We love our customers and we are a staple in the local community in Albuquerque. 

Therefore the next time you do a Google search for pizza delivery to go.  Or best pizza in Albuquerque.  Instead give Back Street Grill pizza delivery or pizza for dine in a try

Downtown Pizza in Albuquerque

Downtown Albuquerque is a bustling business hub and vibrant area to explore. Whether you’re an avid shopper, entertainment junkie, or nightlife crawler, Downtown and adjacent Old Town Albuquerque are prime spots to satisfy any craving… Especially for pizza!

What Makes Albuquerque Pizza Unique

Pizza is loved all over the world, and America has taken the traditional Italian favorite into new territory with so many varieties and different mouth-watering toppings. It’s easy to find Albuquerque pizza delivery services in New Mexico. Determining the best pizza in Albuquerque could be challenging because there are many highly-rated and delicious pizza restaurants to choose from! It all boils down to individual tastes. What sets Albuquerque apart is the region’s distinct cuisine. Local pizza parlors and restaurant chefs love infusing Southwestern flavors into their fare. The city is full of neighborhood haunts that offer Mexican pizza too!

Foodies flock to Old Town Albuquerque

Old Town Albuquerque is located at the end of Downtown and boasts a historic charm with vintage adobe houses and artisanal shops. The quaint Old Town Plaza of Albuquerque overlooks the 18th-century San Felipe de Neri Church. The picturesque area is also home to the Albuquerque Museum and the New Mexico Museum of Natural History and Science. Great eateries are abundant around Old Town, making it a go-to spot to snack or chow down.

Downtown and Old Town Pizza

If you’re downtown and itching to devour some pizza, simply do an internet search of “pizza near me” and you’ll be pointed in the right direction. Backstreet Grill is situated in a fantastic location near Old Town Plaza, Albuquerque. The restaurant’s owner, Chef Christopher James Cordova, is known for serving the best Mexican and Southwest Baja cuisine in the city. Thanks to Backstreet Grill, authentic Old Town pizza prices are affordable. A Backstreet specialty is the Mexican Pizza, a local staple, which is the best pizza in Albuquerque.

Backstreet Grill’s Old Town Pizza Menu

Backstreet Grill, especially for those with Southwestern tastebuds, just might serve the best pizza in Albuquerque. The restaurant currently serves five kinds of Mexican Pizza in our Old Town pizza menu. Richard’s Red Chile Pizza is our original recipe that serves smoked pork, corn and black bean relish, pineapple pico de gallo, cilantro, and cotija cheese. Our Backstreet Supreme kicks with red chile sauce, jalapeños, cilantro, bacon, and beef slathered with an in-house combination of mozzarella, queso menonita, and cheddar cheese. The Baja Steak and Shrimp Chipotle Pizza incorporates our special pineapple chipotle, wood-smoked blue cheese, and crispy tortilla chips. Backstreet Grill also offers chicken and vegetarian options.

Albuquerque Pizza Delivery When you can’t be bothered to cook at home, you can get your pizza delivered to your doorstep from Backstreet Grill. Albuquerque pizza delivery has been made easy through online services like Eat24 and Grub Hub. If you need pizza to go and want to pass by for your order, call (505) 842-5434 ahead for pickup. Backstreet also serves as a wonderful private event venue and offers party catering services.

[abiteofnat]

THE SUBWAY CAN’T STOP ME FROM HAVIN A GOOD TIME...

Even though my “sea legs” are a little shaky when I’m a billion feet underground and shuttling through the space-time continuum. I love public transit and rely on it to live my life, but the NYC subway is it’s own Narnia of transport. After my family left me for the rats in NYC I was to backpack between Brooklyn and the Upper East Side where two of my best and most beautiful friends recently moved to, each of them very different people and therefore providing me with a week of amazing, diverse experiences and quality #bff time. While I panicked about not having enough to do to keep us occupied I quickly realized I am naive and that NYC is definitely not lacking in things to do, anytime, ever. AND THEY DON’T LACK THINGS TO EAT! 

The first couple days were spent with a dear pal Sophia, my crossfit queen and wine connoisseur, and her boyfriend in Brooklyn where the bagels were plenty and we ate a lot of them. Bagel World is where you can find the famous Rainbow Bagel which I believe is an egg bagel with some food coloring stirred in, and with a little plain cream cheese smeared on there it’s the perfect #hangoverhelper and puts a smile on your face. The best thing about NYC bagel delis is the fact they have TUBS of cream cheese for your choosing, and you better believe there are a half a dozen flavors minimum that make the salty & sweet or savory & salty or sweet & sweet conundrum all the harder to decide. I’m a fan of a salty bagel and a sweet cream cheese, i.e. sea salt bagels with strawberry cream cheese (which I tried at Pick A Bagel -pictured below- later on that week) but that rainbow bagel realllyyyy swooned me. And, being a dumbo with caffeine-free brain, I forgot to take pics and just consumed it out of pure glee. May it live on forever in my heart.

I also went to a bombfreaking.com bagel place in the Financial District while Soph was off doing important things, and lemme tell you I absolutely adore that area of Manhattan. While it does feel very “Wolf of Wall Street” and everyone is a business person rushing around under these tall, gray buildings it’s also near the water and feels like a whole new city of it’s own. There are a ton of tiny cafes and coffee shops, bars and mini patios, and a shocking amount of flower shops. I wouldn’t make it a destination area itself but if you’re checking out the One World Trade Center (which is entirely worth seeing, it’s humbling and very breathtaking) you could walk over for a snack and a think. My find of the day was Leo’s Bagels, where I got a poppyseed and chive cream cheese bagel that blew my fucking mind. This bagel was the essential NYC bagel, broiled to chewy perfection and toasted to a golden brown and then SMOTHERED WITH CHIVE CREAM CHEESE THAT I COULD EAT WITH A SPOON FOREVER. I read a book, “The Couple Next Door”, and noshed on my bagel while watching the rain fall on the brick streets crowded with people running underneath newspapers to protect their fancy hair. It was pretty damn perfect. 

Outside of bagels, we checked out where to get sangria pitchers and talk about the trials of millennial living which lead us to Barraca, a picture-perfect corner spot in a bustling part of Greenwich. Their happy hour menu was poppin’ and we ordered pitchers of multiple types of sangria, garlic-marinated olives, pan con tomate, and expected menu items such as patatas bravas that were deep fried and topped with a glorious aioli, and then threw in some manchego cheese with grilled toast and jam. It was tasty little bites of tapas classes in a rustic yet modern setting, great people watching, and ideal lounge-forever-and-drink vibes. 

We were quite content here and should you want a casual, 5-hour European meal this is your place! Plus Greenwich is a mecca of little bars and late night restaurants, walk a little far to the Meat Packing District to the clubs and fancy pants bars, and the world is your $15 cocktail. Voila! 

The last leg of my trip was spent with my oldest and most vegan friend Lolo who went above and beyond to show me an authentic day in the life of her and her huge, beautiful friend group which led us to some pretty cool and totally veggie-friendly spots. Lolo being the wonder she is also let me stop for bagels at any moment and for that she wins an award seeing as she doesn’t even eat bagels! And I’m so indecisive with them! 

One of the first places we went to was the food court in The Plaza as it’s a staple for her and I had never been. We woke up ~hella~ early with the world on a Saturday to scamper to Central Park and sit in line for 5 hours to get Shakespeare in the Park tickets for A Midsummer Night’s Dream, as it’s free Broadway theater that is packed every single night of the summer, and after scoring four beautiful tickets our eyes were glazed over and my stomach was screaming “FUCK THE ARTS I NEED FOOD”. So we headed to The Plaza, went underneath the elite hotel section to the similarly elite yet casual eatery, and I was shell shocked. I don’t know what I expected, but this food court felt like the most glorious spread of gourmet foods offered to raggedy people like us in baseball caps and tennis shoes. 

Lolo led me to the coffee that to this minute of my life is still the best iced coffee I’ve ever had, and with a splash of almond milk and simple syrup I couldn’t quite believe that coffee from a French stand in a food court was changing my entire life. It’s called Epicerie Boulud, and you should go N O W. 

We also stopped and got sushi from the sushi stand which would be a running trend of the weekend (little did I know). One of the things I love about my girl is she is an avid sushi fan even though it’s just veggies and rice all wrapped up because she’s meat free, and I can eat sushi for ever single meal without turning into an actual piece of tuna and be happy. It was VERY VERY good sushi, and the men making it were so happy to be rolling up some rolls for the line of people sitting along the prep station and watching. Nothing like live theater, no matter what kind it is. 

After this meal we went to Central Park with some goodies from Whole Foods and picnicked until the show started, and my oh MY free Shakespeare was remarkable. The set, the costumes, alllllll of it was so extra and not to mention you’re watching it in the middle of Central Park with Manhattan lighting up all around you! 

The last meal spent in NYC was at ~drum roll please~ Chelsea Market, a spot I had never gotten to and was so eager to see. IT DID NOT DISAPPOINT! Within this old, brick + steel building there are a billion little shops and curiosity stalls, one at which I bought an ancient postcard of Lady Liberty that I’m obsessed with. This was also the first trip I went out on the river to see Lady Liberty and I think I fell in love a little bit. That statue made me so damn emotional and I kind of can’t wait to go back and wander Ellis Island for a bit. Plus, the boat had a bar on board, and who doesn’t love a Blue Moon while cruising on the Hudson?

At the Chelsea Market we went to Lolo’s favorite place which is called Beyond Sushi and it’s completely vegan and grassy sushi + other sides that SHOOK ME. TO THE CORE. First off, the rice was purple. Second of all, the side of kimchi was so good that I ate it like salad all on it’s own and almost forgot to eat the other aspects of my meal. Try any and all things on the menu; it is all so fresh and delicately made that you don’t even realize there’s no fish/dairy/animal product in them. I’m the first to scoff at sushi that’s devoid of the most insane amount of tobiko/ahi tuna/octopus, but this was legitimately crunch and full of flavor and a remarkable balance of flavor. 

Yep. It’s unreal. Yep. See those test tubes of sauce? The plum sauce is best on EVERYTHING. HOW HELPFUL IS THAT. 

Right next door to Beyond Sushi is Pineapple Express, the glorious spot where the nicest woman in the world stayed open to make me one of the Insta-famous pineapples filled with pineapple soft serve and topped with fresh fruit, coconut shavings, and an umbrella. Also vegan, this makes the most luscious dessert to end a salty meal with and is perfect for sharing as long as you don’t mind accidental spoon wars. O.M.G. it was so good! And tip this woman well, she loves her job makin’ pretty fruits. 

WOWZA AM I RIGHT? Although the Chelsea Market closes relatively early, it is so worth going for a bite to eat and a wander about. You never know what treasures you’re going to find! 

Thanks for reading through my NYC adventures, I promise I also have fun Chicago spots to try and that I’m not leaving annyyy time soon. Ok? Ok. 

Until next time, Happy Eating!

-Natalie

[3one3]

The Sequel - 886

Parrot

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“I hate Everton. They always fuck us. The least they could do is beat the team we would like to move ahead of. They find ways to fuck us even when they’re playing somebody else. And what the fuck is wrong with them anyway? Koeman is good. You love Koeman. You were literally the only person in all of Valencia who loved him, but still. England loved him last year. What is he even doing that they’re this bad?”

“If I open another bottle of Sant Jeroni will it make you calm, or more complaining?”

“I don’t know. Open it and let’s find out.”

Juan rolled his eyes when Christina clunked the side of her head into his and then gestured angrily at the iPad again about Ronald Koeman’s side and its ineptitude. They were installed in Rincón de Juan, at his dad’s restaurant, to eat Iberico and Manchego croquetas, and off-menu cheese fries. They were also testing new wines to see if they should go on the menu. The rider liked a white blend that included her favored Viognier grapes. They were merely sampling though, so she wasn’t yet drunk. Coca Cola with lemon was her prime beverage of choice. She did ask for more of that Sant Jeroni blend, however, and was disappointed to hear that the rest of the bottle was already gone. The restaurant manager poured samples for just about everybody in the place. Her personal host evidently thought he could temper her animated football commentary by opening up the second bottle sent from the distributor.

She was in London on Sunday afternoon, enjoying an Everton vs. Arsenal and Tottenham vs. Liverpool doubleheader, because an artist who painted a stunning picture of her sailing over a fence aboard Dirk at the Olympics invited her to the fundraiser auction at which he was selling it on Saturday evening. The proceeds were going to UNICEF, as part of a “Sports for the Greater Good” initiative. All the auction lots were sport-themed. Christina agreed to attend and sign the piece with a personalized message for the winning bidder. That really could have happened via mail, even though the painting was enormous, but it was a good excuse to go see Juan, so she went. He provided her with a ticket for Watford’s visit to Stamford Bridge at lunchtime, and accompanied her to the event. She was staying until Monday morning.

“Do you really want it, or no? It’s not cold. I have to put it in the freezer,” the Spaniard pointed out after Arsenal scored a fourth goal and his “secret girlfriend” closed the streaming app in disgust.

“No but can we take it home? For later? And can I go get my own soda or do I have to wait for whatshername?”

“I’ll get it.”

“You don’t trust me to walk around the bar and grab a soda?”

“No.”

“K. I need some more napkins too. Thanks.” Christina slid her empty soda bottle in front of him and helped herself to a French fry dripping in gooey white cheese sauce. Chef David greeted her when they got there and asked what she would eat if she could eat anything in the world, and she picked cheese fries, much to his amusement. He vowed to concoct the best cheese fries she’d ever had, and really delivered. She had no idea what sort of cheese was in the sauce, or what else was in it, but it sure was delicious, and the potatoes were crispy and perfectly salted. Visiting London was, for a while, like going on a mini holiday. Christina always ended up eating junk food, drinking, shopping, and having a lot of sex. Nothing at home in Dortmund was so stressful or monotonous that a vacation was necessary, but they were still nice little breaks, and they repaired the part of her heart that felt damaged and slightly painful whenever she was away from Juan for very long.

They were also a satisfying football fix. Dortmund was slowly killing her. Chelsea suffered a rough patch too. The Blues fought to rescue the three points at home on Saturday in a really exciting match that really fed her addiction in a way her husband’s side seemed incapable, and she was glad to be with her favorite Blue afterward because he made an individual error that led directly to a goal and she was afraid he’d be very down on himself about it. With a nice cocktail party and charity auction to go to, and a beautiful girl to go with, he couldn’t dwell on the mistake for long. His arm candy refused to let him beat himself up about it too. She blamed a blanket lack of organization and responsibility for both goals conceded.

“Do you want to stay here for the second game or nah?” she asked after he returned with a bottle of Coke and fresh glass of ice with two lemon wedges and a black straw. The black straw was important. Christina made him promise his restaurant would only use black straws.

“I don’t care. My dad is out of things to make me do while I’m here, so...” The Spaniard shrugged and sliced into a croqueta with the side of his fork. His interest in the fried food and cheese was necessarily less than hers. He picked while she stuffed her face. She also promised to cook for him later, so he was saving the space in his stomach.

“How is he always here? Does he just live here now?”

“Sometimes. I showed you the pictures of his place, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but you said it was going to be like a crash pad when he’s in town. He’s always in town.”

“I’m not complaining,” Juan smiled.

“I miss Aidan,” Christina confessed. There was a reason why she was asking about the other Juan Mata always being around when she was in town. There was some kind of binding between her and friends who didn’t live near family. For example, Natasha’s parents hardly ever came to London. Eden’s were around all the time, and he took his family to his parents in Belgium often, but Natasha didn’t get to see her family much. Christina thought she related better to people without close family, despite Jill living at home permanently. Her parents weren’t actually in that home that often. Juan’s parents came to the UK for important matches, and he saw them at home in Spain when he could, so that distance was something she identified with. It was different, having one or both of his parents right there in town all the time.

Many times throughout the most difficult parts of the previous year- through her riding struggles, and her relationship nightmares- the equestrian star wished she had a mother read-in on all the drama to consult with, or just to vent to. There was no one. No one was in on her secrets. Sometimes she thought her desperation to talk to someone about that stuff was why she gave in and clued some people in, like Daniel and Marcus. It was really difficult to keep all of that stuff inside. The only people she could vent to were the people directly involved. It wasn’t that she missed her mom, per say, but any mom, or mom-like figure. A family member she did specifically miss was her brother. He hardly reached out to her since their father’s funeral. Christina missed that odd relationship. It wasn’t close or affectionate, but in some ways the Martin kids knew each other better than most. And she really wanted Lukas to benefit from knowing Aidan. Her brother was wonderful with kids. They all loved him, and he loved to hang out with them and show them things. He was a really great big brother when she was little and their age gap was more significant in terms of maturity, experience, and knowledge of the world.

“Have you spoken lately?”

“No. He doesn’t call me, and I feel like I need a reason to call him. I know we would end up on the phone for an hour, talking about ourselves and current events and movies and stuff, but usually I call him for a reason, like...his birthday, or an art question or something. The last few times we talked it was about the boat money.” I want him to come visit and demand that we go to the store to get a case of Coke right away, she thought, staring into her glass while pulling on the straw. He needs immediate soda and bread. I want to joke about the stuff only we find funny. Like Captain Ron.

“Why don’t you ask him to join you for the holidays? He has off from school?” Juan suggested. He leaned back on the banquette and put his arm up on it. He also picked up and then dropped her braided ponytail. The restaurant was a vigilance-free zone. He didn’t care who saw him do what there, which was kind of ironic given that diners often just sat there watching him. Playing with her hair wasn’t exactly a dead giveaway that they were sleeping together, but she thought the way he interacted with her was just really flirty at times, as in if she were watching then she would assume they were together. It didn’t worry her as much as it once did.

“I don’t even know where I’m going to be for the holidays. I’ll be here riding right before Christmas, Schü wants to have his family over and we’ve also talked about traveling since he has the long break, I know I’ll want to spend time with you...”

“You have a bad habit of focusing on obstacles instead of solutions, cariña.” The footballer gave in to desire and speared the other half of the breaded, fried log of ham and cheese béchamel with his fork, and popped it in his mouth before Christina could come back at him with some protest about how ignoring obstacles doesn’t solve anything and just gets one’s hopes up. But she didn’t say anything, or look up from her soda. If she wasn’t going to argue, he was going full steam ahead. “Your obstacles are mostly imaginary too. You don’t need a reason to call your own brother. No one does. Just call him and say “Hey, what’s new? How are you?” Or you could try something really crazy and tell him you rang because you miss him. And if you want to see him and he has the ability to come over, make the plan around that. André wants to be with family at Christmas, like most people, so he plans that. You can plan to be with family too. You could invite him to you in Germany, or ask him to join you here during the horse show, or have him meet you wherever André wants to “travel”. Why not have the whole family on the boat after New Year’s, something like this?”

“He’d be really bored. He doesn’t like sitting on a lounger all day.”

“That runs in the family, eh?” Juan smiled. He patted her thigh too. Her expression was quite patronized when she looked up to frown. “Stop making excuses,” he urged, clearly trying to be warmer about it and head off any impending angry, defensive backlash. He does that thing with his eyes so even when he’s being mean it seems like he’s not picking on you, the rider told herself. He’s so goddamn sincere. “If you want to talk to him, or see him, you can manage it. You’re a smart girl with means and flexibility!”

“Yeah but...what if he’s still mad at me about Dad?”

“That wasn’t your fault and he can’t seriously think it was.”

“But what if he does?”

“Then you should talk to him and find out why.”

“That sounds unbearable.”

“Give it a try, and if it’s unbearable then I’ll be there for you after. You can’t miss out on something good because you’re afraid it could be bad. This is why we have people close to us- why we let them in. We know they’re there to support us and comfort us when something doesn’t turn out the way we want. Having people makes you stronger. It-“

“Alright, alright, I don’t need a sappy speech,” Christina groaned. “I need cheese fries.” Deflecting and humor would always be her preferred tactics for avoiding emotional vulnerability on someone else’s terms. She wasn’t willing to admit to herself that the whole reason she brought up Aidan was that she wanted her sort-of-partner to talk her into it, tell her how, and then do something to make her feel better if it didn’t go well. She ate a couple of mildly cheese-blessed crispy fries and wiped her hands on a napkin from the pile he brought with her soda, and then put it in her lap to protect her sweatshirt. Ankle-length, super soft, light wash jeans, low leather sneakers, and casual-fit crewneck sweatshirts were the staples of her autumn look. She thought it wasn’t a “Mom Outfit” if the sweatshirts were by luxury brands and the butt in the jeans was world class. Her more practical sensibilities occasionally insisted that it was ridiculous to buy €300+ sweatshirts that were more or less the same as €30 ones without a brand or logo on the front, so she treated them like her nicest clothes. Fried food grease on a free adidas sweatshirt was unfortunate and disappointing but not tragic. Fried food grease on an Alexander McQueen swallow-motif sweatshirt was a nightmare of conscience.

“What are you making me for dinner later?”

“My mom’s beef stew, because it’s stew weather, it’s enough to last you several days, and it requires chopping a lot of veggies and stuff which is something fun we can do together.”

“You’re really missing the family, sí?” Juan knowingly inquired, voice low, grip on her leg tightening, eyes fixed on her profile.

“I always do this time of the year,” his visitor replied in a monotone but somehow still slightly begrudging way. Sometimes his ability to see the pattern in her behavior was annoying rather than comforting. “Thanksgiving, holiday decorating, Christmas shopping, really cold horse shows, making checklists for Florida...”

“You still do holiday decorating. You shop almost professionally. Your horse show in the arena is freezing. What’s missing,” the player mused, sitting forward to lean on his elbows on the table. He slid the platter of cheese fries over closer to Christina. “Thanksgiving, I understand, is just for eating. I generously volunteer to eat the Thanksgiving,” he offered as if to make some great sacrifice. “And for the list-making...how about you make a checklist of things to put in your bag when you come to the beach with me after the crazy part of the schedule is over and I get some time off? Write down the books, the dresses, and the shoes- oh, the shooooes-”

“I love you,” she said very quietly in his ear before pecking his cheek just in front of it as soon as he sat back again. It wasn’t that he provided some groundbreaking solution to her holiday homesickness and nostalgia for the good old days. It was just incredibly sweet of him to her to list books, dresses, and shoes in that order. Firstly she felt good learning that he was already thinking about using his very limited time off for resting and recharging after the jam-packed holiday football season with her, even after she alluded to her intention to fit some time with him in during the actual holidays. That indicated that he wanted a double-dose. Then he mentioned the first three things that would be on her mind when thinking about what to bring for a little stay at his place in Mallorca- books, because one of her favorite things to do with him was enjoy quiet time in which they could do their own thing but together, without interrupting each other, dresses, because she thrived on making different impressions on him with her outfits, and shoes, because he always poked fun at her for bringing so many shoes on her travels, and because he told her he wanted to go away with her to a place where shoes aren’t necessary, and she kept that in the back of her mind. She kept the idea of traveling anywhere and everywhere with him in the back of her mind. It was the only thing she wanted to be doing that she was not yet doing with her post-Olympics freedom. It also didn’t hurt that his instinct or choice was to pivot to giving reassurances, rather than continue harassing her about complaining instead of coming up with solutions. Juan sat up taller and pressed his chin to his chest to stretch his neck, and his response to her love and her little kiss was delivered with more nonchalance than the rider would have retroactively anticipated.

“I love that you’re like obsessed with me and I actually see you more now than when you lived here,” he said while stretching and looking down at his lap.

“To think people call you humble.”

“Every other week, you’re here, or I’m with you at a horse show.”

“I’m not obsessed. I’m addicted,” Christina stage-whispered behind her hand.

“To what?”

“Your sweaters, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“And soon, your restaurant’s cheese fries. You should put these on the menu. Forget the wine.” She collected a couple of fries and stuffed them in her mouth to demonstrate her love. They’re getting cold though, she realized, disappointed. And my tummy is getting full. Her watch said she had 15 minutes left to choose between remaining there to watch Tottenham take on Klopp’s team at Wembley and going back to Juan’s to watch it on the couch, or in bed. He was picking over what was left of the fries, and yawned instead of addressing her suggestion. We should go home. I can watch football and nap off this food and then go downstairs to get the stew stuff. “D’you wanna go home for the other game?”

“So you can feed your addiction by touching all my sweaters?”

“So I can feed my addiction to referring to your apartment as “home”.”

The Spaniard calmly grinned in appreciation and winked at the addict. He asked her if she needed to have her remaining fries boxed to go, but she said she just needed the Sant Jeroni and some good bread to dip in the stew later, since the grocery store in his building didn’t bake bread in-house and what they had brought in wasn’t very good, or fresh. They walked two blocks to Juan’s Mercedes and Christina sang to the radio for 15 minutes of pretty light Sunday traffic. The wine went on ice as soon as they got “home”, and they chose the couch for their football viewing. Getting into bed was too dangerous. It posed a risk of them never getting up to make the stew, or do anything else for that matter. Then didn’t stop the friends from changing into comfier clothes and making a nest to share and try not to fall asleep in. They were briefly amused by Tottenham’s ability to totally rip Liverpool apart in the first half-hour, before silently agreeing amongst each other that the home side was scary good, and thus a threat to the Blues’ prospects. On that unspoken but fully realized note, Christina grabbed her phone to check in with André.

“Training?” she wrote as a prompt. Dortmund embarrassed themselves again on Saturday, without him, and he was working with the substitutes and other recovering players on Sunday.

“It was good!! I was just about to msg you. I’m in the cold water. If everything is normal tomorrow, I’m going to be in the squad for the cup,” he wrote back immediately. Awww I’m so happy for him! His wife was seriously thrilled. Finally! It’s been at least twice as long as it was supposed to be. I wish I could hug him right now. I’m gonna give- Oh, yeah. Hmm. Christina wanted to give her partner a great sendoff before he departed for Magdeburg. But her flight got her back to Germany around lunchtime, and he’d already be at training. She couldn’t let him go off to maybe make his comeback without at least a hug, and preferably with a quiet vote of absolute confidence.

“Can I come to Brackel and see you before you go?” she asked, thinking she could go see him just before the team got on the bus for the airport, when she couldn’t interrupt anything important, or be a distraction. Partners and even kids were not banned from Brackel. Wives and girlfriends dropped off and picked up their players all the time, and some even occasionally took in training. Christina met with the team doctor there once, and she even borrowed a room and their TV production crew to film a thank you message for her fans, partners, family, and friends with good production value. She didn’t have a relationship with the facility and its staff like she had at Cobham, but wasn’t a stranger there.

“Are you going to bring me flowers?”

“Hugs.”

“With kisses?”

“Duh.”

“Then yes.”

Yay! I hope I get to give him even better hugs when he comes home Tuesday night, she smiled to herself. I hope he gets to play, and he feels good doing it. I don’t need a goal or an assist or anything. Just for him to feel good in the kit, kicking the ball, being with his teammates...please, she added, glancing up at the ceiling.

“What are you so happy about?” Juan yawned beside her while she reminded André to call her when he was tucking Lukas in for the night.

“Schü might get to play on Tuesday.”

“Yeah? That’s good news.” He sounded genuine when he turned and smiled at her, and she felt a flicker of guilt. It was twofold, because she felt bad that she was under a blanket with another player and longing to be in hugging distance of the one she was married to, and bad that she had to tell Juan how happy she was for another guy. Neither of the guys would have expected any different. They were used to it. It was just weird in that moment. She wished she could be home in Dortmund, but also felt sorry for letting the Spaniard see her get so wrapped up in an André thing. The moment fully illustrated the inherent difficulty and unfairness of their arrangement.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, introspective.

“Will you be there to watch?”

“No. They play away, in the cup. Some third-tier team.”

“That’s perfect to get some time and confidence. I wish him well.”

“Thanks.” Christina let her head fall over onto his right shoulder, and rubbed her right hand up and down and his arm. I believe him. He resents boyfriend for a lot of things but they’re still friends, kinda, and he wants whatever makes me happy too.

“He’s taking Lovren off,” the Chelsea man literally pointed out as the Liverpool center-half made the embarrassing walk toward the sideline well before the halftime whistle. “Harsh.”

“Let’s see if he has a tantrum when he gets to the bench, like...someone I know.”

“Are you ever going to forget that?”

“No.”

“I guess it’s good to have someone who won’t ever let me forget my mistakes.”

“Yes. A good way to learn,” his girlfriend sniggered. “I remind you about them because I love you and want you to do better.”

“Because you love me, eh.” He wasn’t having her joking-but-not-really explanation.

“I love you as much as American chain restaurants love using other food as bread for their food.”

“What?” He definitely wasn’t buying her metaphor.

“Like when they use grilled cheese sandwiches as the bread for a hamburger, or they make a sandwich out of bacon and cheese between two fried chicken cutlets, or they wrap a burrito in a quesadilla.”

“You Americans really love cheese.”

“I love you more than cheese sometimes.” Christina looked up from his shoulder with her doe eyes on. Any man on the receiving end of that look knew he was being played, one way or another.

“I’m not getting up to open the wine.”

“Oh I forgot about that, actually. I’m just trying to make up for getting giddy about Schü before.”

“Nothing to make up, cariña.” He didn’t need to say more than that. She knew deep down that it didn’t upset him when she did things like that, or showed him that she missed her husband, or told him she couldn’t do something because she had plans with him that she didn’t want to break. He was well aware of how she felt about André, and there was no point in ever pretending about it. The opposite situation was the same too.  

“I do love you like a fat kid loves a cheeseburger with a pizza bun though.”

“Have you ever ate anything like that?”

“No, but I put macaroni and cheese on an egg sandwich once because it needed cheese and the only cheese I had was leftover macaroni and cheese. Macaroni and cheese burgers are a thing. I think lobster macaroni and cheese burgers are a thing now too. So gross.”

“You’re a thing.”

“Your face is a thing.”

“Why is your face always on my shoulder? You’re not a parrot, cariña.”

“I’m the angel on your shoulder. Duh.”

“Awww.”

“I think your angel needs a nap,” Christina yawned before she began adjusting in her spot for a more reclined position. Liverpool was a mess and didn’t look likely to stage a comeback.

“My angel, not “the” angel?”

“Yes, your angel.”