Grandma Inés' artichoke omelet: "Once we played a game to see who could make the biggest omelet and I won."

BarcelonaToday we call "coliving"And before we used to say 'share a flat,' and before that, even earlier, 'be a lodging housekeeper,' if the lady of the house was there, often a widow with children, who cooked and kept the clothes ready for those who rented rooms from her. Our wise woman of today, like many who have lived in big cities, came colivingShe came from Huelva when she was eight years old. Her family came, as you can see, in fits and starts. "My father lost his job back in Andalusia. And a brother-in-law he had here called him and he found work right away. They had a house... Well, a house. A room with kitchen privileges. And in that room, first and foremost, were my father, my mother, my brother Manolo, Manel, who were very young, and me." Then, when her parents had settled in, which was very quickly, "because my father was very resourceful, they brought them here; my grandparents and the three children."

They found a house in Poblenou. "It had seven bedrooms, two dining rooms, and a tiny, tiny toilet... And we lived in this house... An uncle of mine, who was a bootmaker, one of those who make boots, who earned very little back in the village. And he came here, already with a job, because there was a workshop across the street where they made boots. And we lived in this house..." She pauses, and we pause. She counts with her fingers: "An aunt of mine, with three children, who was the wife of the man with the boots. They were five, plus five of us, ten. Dad and Mom, twelve, Grandpa and Grandma, fourteen, and my aunt's three, seventeen! Which we now call bunk beds, which Dad put up. And the widow's two, with their mother. We ate in shifts. Her mother washed the soldiers' clothes at the barracks in exchange for a crust of bread. They cooked in shifts, because there were so many of them, and she always liked that. The lady of the house used to say: 'Seventeen people live up here. I don't hear anything except laughter.'"

Inés's recipe couldn't be simpler and more complicated at the same time. She'll be making an artichoke omelet, one of the essential dishes of our cuisine. I like the bitterness of that flower, so difficult to pair with food, a flower that embodies the beauty of the season.

"I bought the artichokes at the Mercat de Sants, where I usually shop," she explains. "Since I'll only be using the hearts for the recipe, I bought twenty-five artichokes."

Like many other cooks who have graced these pages (Agustina from Cal Montclar, who made pig's trotters for us, comes to mind now), Inés cooks with one hand on tradition and the other on technology, taking advantage of inventions that make our lives easier without implying anything. "In the old days," he says, "when there were no microwaves, I used to boil them in water in a pan. Why? Because you can't fry them directly, they burn, unless you cut them very thinly. Now, since I have a microwave, I put them in a special bag for five minutes, and the artichoke flavor stays. It doesn't lose its flavor. I sauté them."

"We peel the artichokes, keeping in mind that we'll only use the hearts. I bought small ones so they wouldn't have many fuzzy bits. This is very laborious work because I'm almost 92 years old and my hands don't work like they used to. Besides, I have neck problems. I do it all by myself, and I don't want to fall, so I'm very careful. I don't want to burden my children."

While she's peeling, she does something very Catalan, which is to talk about another dish she's cooked. In this case, she explains that she made a lamb's head in the oven with thyme and rosemary, a tomato, and a splash of white wine. "I took a picture of my daughter and said, 'Girl, look what you've missed!' She doesn't like a lamb's head; it disgusts her, and since I know better, what I do is leave the cheeks." And as he says this, he makes a gesture you see many people make when they're telling you a recipe or when they ask for a specific cut at the butcher's: they touch the part of their body they're talking about. He shows us an artichoke, already peeled and pierced with a knife. "Look! This is how they should look."

The sight of this great invention, the artichoke tortilla, before it's even cooked, is a feast for the senses of everyone at Inés's house, sharing her wisdom.

"Some people like their tortilla not too cooked in the middle. At my house, we like it cooked through, and in that case, you can microwave it for a minute and a half. How do you like yours?" she asks us. And we like ours runny.

She grabs a lid and takes the pan to the sink, just in case. "If it doesn't make me look bad..." she murmurs. And she sets it down. But when it falls a little, she exclaims, "Ouch! See what I was telling you? My hands... But it's okay." It's okay, of course not. And this is the lesson for all of us, who have hands full of strength. "The heat, not too high, not too low, okay?" she warns us. And she flips it again, this time with complete success. "And that's even though, as I was saying, this tortilla is small. Otherwise... I wouldn't eat any tortilla!" She turns to us, half-smiling, and adds: "I used to make it in a paella pan! My husband held the handles and I held the lid. I remember once we had a competition with another couple, who had a house in Sant Andreu de la Barca and we went there often, to see who could make the biggest tortilla." Ice cream. Back then, it was all fields and it was full of things in August. I always had to cook, because I've always loved it. Things, like an unexpected ice cream for dessert, and where friendship and love were based, above all, on sharing and laughing, because when we hear stories from the past we always tend to think that they didn't laugh. And yet, I have the impression that they laughed a lot.

"My son always tells me..."Mom, you werevery forward-thinking""And she's right. Inés never stops doing things, she's always on the go, and she's curious about everything. "I don't have any formal education. I went to school and learned to type. That's why, now, I do the..."computerBecause I do computerEverything that involves working with my hands, I've learned. I've always worked in a printing shop. When we came to live here, there was a couple who lived here, below the factory, who are now deceased, poor things, who worked making toilet floats. And I worked there, from three to five, until the children got out of school. They paid you a certain amount per item. I'm very... versatile. I haven't stopped. I'm in a book club where they have a video conference every week to talk about what I've read. I go to a senior citizens' group, where everyone is younger than me! And at the Palau de la Música."

Put the tortilla on a plate and we go to the dining room, small and cheerful. We're at the table, with a placemat she made, and she gives us a piece. "I'll try it first, and tell you how it is." And since it's approved, we try it. She shows us a calendar she's been wanting to make, of "pioneering women." The first female aviator, the first female doctor... We turn the pages. "There are two who aren't pioneers in anything, but I like them a lot. Mary Santpere and Carulla."

"My name is Inés," she explains, while turning the pages, "because my aunt's daughter, who died, was named that. And my cousin is named Inés for the same reason. In the house where we lived, we were "La Inés, the great, I" and "the Inés, the girl"She. We spoke in Spanish, among ourselves, but mentally I was speaking in Catalan, because I wanted to learn it. My brothers, on the other hand, didn't know how to speak Catalan, because they were those... stubborn types. But I've always loved to read, and watch the TV debates, back when they were on. And the newspapers too. But now, with this Trump thing, I'm afraid to even look at them." Inés is a wise woman who has a gift: curiosity about the world.

Inés's artichoke omelet recipe, explained by herself.

Ingredients

• 25 artichokes bought at the Sants Market.
• Half a dozen eggs.
• Salt and oil.

Elaboration

• We peel the artichokes, keeping in mind that we will only use the heart.
• As we peel them, we put them in water with lemon slices, so they don't turn black.
• Once peeled, microwave them for five minutes in a microwave-safe bag. Alternatively, you can boil them in water.
• After microwaving them, we salt them well and then sauté them.
• Meanwhile, we beat half a dozen eggs. I don't add salt, because the artichokes already have it.
• We add the artichokes and we're ready to make the omelet.
• I change the pan, but I use the same oil from the artichokes, which will be all perfumed.