Can Openers

Today, I did battle with a can opener.

Here’s how it happened:

Fall has descended upon Madrid, and with the arrival of cooler temperatures and browning leaves has also come nostalgic memories of growing up in New England during autumn-time. Colorful leaves, crisp air, and pumpkin- and apple-everything: bread, pie, crisp, cider, you name it. While I still cannot thank my lucky stars enough to be living here in Spain, this season has got me missing home a little bit more than usual.

So, I decided to bring a little New England fall magic to Spain by bringing some pumpkin bread and apple crisp to my kitchen.

The first obstacle to overcome was finding all the ingredients I needed. American recipes unfortunately do NOT cater to people living abroad, and I begrudgingly ended up at a Taste of America store to buy a can of pumpkin purée (I could’ve gotten a pumpkin easily enough to make my own purée, but as my mom always says - not only is canned easier, but sometimes it even tastes better).

So, with my kitchen fully stocked with all necessary ingredients, I was ready to start mixing some magic. First up was the pumpkin bread.

Step one: open the can of pumpkin.

That’s when I realized that my flat did not have a can opener...at least not the kind I was accustomed to using. We did have a small metal piece with a curved tooth that clearly seemed to be intended for puncturing cans...but I could not for the life of me figure out how to use it.

Five google searches on how-to-open-a-can-without-a-can-opener later, I was sweating profusely from struggling to pry open the lid and nervously praying that I wouldn't injure myself in the process. After a solid thirty minutes, I finally made a hole just large enough to start desperately scooping out the pumpkin with a tiny spoon. It took another five minutes just to coax it all out.

When the mushy pumpkin was all sitting triumphantly in my bowl, I nearly cried from joy at the victory. And I could’ve kissed that sweet-smelling pumpkin bread when I took it out of the oven. The top was burnt because, naturally, I hadn’t set the oven to the right setting, but at that point, I was just grateful to even have pumpkin bread, burnt or not. 

Now, opening a can was something that I had mentally checked off the list of things I know how to do. As was baking something in an oven. As was going to the grocery store for ingredients. As was...etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

But moving to and living in Spain has completely changed my perspective on these types of things - the things I thought I already knew how to do. Skills and tools I took for granted. Little things like can openers that I just grew up learning and can’t even remember being taught.

Yet, I’m realizing that as frustrating as they are, these can-opener moments are incredibly important - they help us become more competent and knowledgeable adults. It’s easy to get caught in the trap of wanting to avoid looking like you don’t know what you’re doing, but it’s truly much more rewarding to test something out, fail, and be that much wiser for having tried.

In the end, I dove into a delicious bowl of pumpkin bread, apple crisp, and vanilla ice cream, tasting memories of my childhood and the satisfaction of a battle hard won. So, my advice is to not be afraid of discovering your “can openers” and to make sure you give them all you’ve got, because it’s those victories that taste (sometimes quite literally) the sweetest.