Ann's Blog
Barcelona & Valencia:
Oct. 13, 2010
Tapas: What a Way to Eat
Just back from Spain. Next time, I’ll blog about the unexpected intersections with our Caribbean travels that popped up there. But for today, let me report that Spain’s eating philosophy perfectly matches my own. A big breakfast bright and early? Not on your life. The Spanish start the day light. A wickedly strong café solo (a.k.a. espresso) or café con leche (a.k.a. cappuccino) and a toasted roll – maybe drizzled with good olive oil and smeared with tomato pulp – is as good as it gets. Suits me fine. Since lunch is late (some restos don’t even start serving until 2), a pre-lunch snack is required, perhaps a short baguette-like flauta layered with sliced charcuterie and cheese…after being drizzled with good olive oil and rubbed with tomato, of course. Dinner is late, too: only a tourist dines before 9, which means that pre-dinner tapas help fill the gap. Tapas really suit my style.
In my case, they don’t just fill the gap – they’re my idea of dinner perfection. I love not having to commit to a single dish. Eating in a tapas bar means I can try four, five or half-a-dozen different specialties in one evening. It allows me to order the delicious-looking dish that arrives for the couple next to us halfway through our own meal. Eating tapas means I can pace and adjust my dinner – have a couple dishes, then order a couple more, based on what I feel like after the first round. Sharing is expected, and depending on how many are doing the sharing, you can order a media ración, a half-portion, leaving room for more different tastes.
whole small (or even smaller) fish can a girl eat in 2+ weeks in Spain?
As I write this, I’m longing to have another taste of some of the tapas we discovered during our trip. In Barcelona, the unlikely huevos con chiperones (fried eggs with baby squid) at El Quim in La Boquería market perhaps take top honors: Though low on plate appeal (especially after I stir the dish according to the cook’s directions and the squid ink mixes with the soft egg yolks), it is an astonishingly fresh, vibrant flavor and texture combo – mixing fish and fowl, sea and land, soft and chewy.
Euskal Etxea’s bite-sized Basque-style pintxos were exquisitely composed: a toothpick spearing an olive, an anchovy, and a small pickled pepper, drizzled with – you guessed it – good olive oil; another skewering a chunk of tuna (in olive oil, of course) piped with garlicky mayo and topped with a slice of red pepper and green olive (photo below).
at Barcelona's Euskal Etxea
Valencia was perhaps home to my favorite tapas bars, because they combined wonderful food with a made-you-feel-at-home atmosphere. At tiny, smoky, packed-to-the-gills Tasco Angel, we loved the jovial barman-owner who helped us order, and the fresh sardines grilled on the flat-top, then doused with a garlicky, parsley-flecked olive oil. At larger but also smoky and packed-to-the-gills Casa Montaña, the walls are lined with wine barrels and the servers exude real warmth as they thread their way through the standing and bar-stool-seated crowd. More delicious grilled fresh sardinas, more fabulous tiny fried fish (in this case, boquerones, anchovies), washed down with cava (me) and vermut from one of those barrels (Steve). We left close to midnight, hoping to make a return visit at some point; likely Casa Montaña will still be there – after all, it’s been open since 1836.
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