The two couples were led to the table next to ours, one of the women looking matronly, the other, about the same age, wearing a low-cut dress that revealed her newly acquired sunburn.
Our appetizers arrived: gazpacho and tortilla Espanola. While waiting for our paella, a pan of black rice was carried with great aplomb to our neighbors’ table. “Squid in its own ink,” the man sitting next to the matronly woman said when we looked over with interest. A few seconds later, a small plate of black rice appeared at our table.
“Thank you,” we said, turning again in their direction.
Halfway through our paella, an iron pan of meat, sizzling in its juices, was brought to our neighbors’ table. It garnered the same looks the black rice had.
“Do you want to join us?” the matronly woman asked.
