Madrid - Tapas and Such

Our first day in Madrid started propitiously. After arriving from Miami early in the morning, we swung by our hotel expecting to simply drop off our bags, and were instead told they would have a room available for us within a half hour (this at 9 a.m.). Early check-in is a much appreciated thing after an overnight flight. Indeed, pretty much everything was perfect at the Villa Real and we have generally had very good experiences with all of the Derby Hotels group.


After fortifying ourselves with some coffee and pan con tomate, and ogling the pastries in the window of this bakery that invariably draws a clutch of old ladies also ogling the pastries, we did some sightseeing and fortuitously (or so I would have Mrs. F believe) ended up around the Cava Baja for lunchtime. While a true tapas crawl requires some reserve and discretion, getting only a couple little bites at one place (hopefully the best it has to offer) before moving on to the next, frankly we were too tired and hungry to be so judicious. We settled in at the first promising place we saw for lunch, which happened to be Casa Lucas. We lucked out. Casa Lucas is a simple, modest-looking place with a small bar and about a half-dozen or so tables with blocky modern wood chairs scattered about. We sat down just before the lunch rush, which was a good thing as the place rapidly filled to standing-room-only (and barely that) as we ate. They offer a choice of several montaditos (which is what I've generally seen "things on bread" called, though didn't see the term used much in Madrid, where they were simply called "tapas" or occasionally "pinchos", a variation on the Basque "pintxo"), as well as a number of other prepared dishes served in larger "racion" portions.

We started with a couple each of their "Mancha" and "Madrid" pinchos, and followed with a racion of the "fardos de calamares." All were delicious. The "Mancha" was topped with a pisto (a/k/a ratatouille), along with a fried quail egg and a sprinkle of slivers of crispy bacon. The pisto was brightly flavored, sweet and rich with olive oil, and the whole combination worked wonderfully. The "Madrid," topped with a shmear of a sweet tomato jam and a tender, unctuous revuelto of eggs scrambled with morcilla and onions, was even better. The calamari dish, perhaps due to my extremely limited knowledge of Spanish, was not at all what I expected. For some reason I was anticipating something stuffed. Instead, what came out were several long strips of calamari, wrapped in the middle with a strip of bacon, the whole thing fried, served over a generous dollop of aioli, along with a couple quenelles of a black squid ink mousse and a drizzle of a bright green herb oil. (I later figured out that "fardos" means "bales"). The strips of calamari baled together almost looked like some sort of reconstructed squid, and this dish somehow managed to come off as refined and goofy at the same time. The calamari was very good, but the game-changing element was the squid ink mousse. Not sure what the mousse was constituted of, but it went beautifully with the crispy strips of squid. Of all the tapas places we noshed at in Madrid, this is the one that really stood out. If I had one complaint, it was that so many of their items were only available in "racion" portions (and priced accordingly), which limits the variety of things you can sample.

That evening, we stayed close to home base and meandered near the Plaza Santa Ana for dinner. Our options were somewhat limited as many places were closed Sunday evening. Of note - a nice montadito of foie gras and apple at Vinoteca Barbechera, and another of ventresca (tuna belly) and roasted peppers; patatas bravas and pimientos de padron at Las Bravas. We got a curious dose of "gringo treatment" at Las Bravas, where our server insisted on giving us fork and knife instead of the customary toothpicks for our bravas (even after asking!). It wasn't unfriendly at all, just peculiar. Anyway, I thought their bravas sauce was great, even though I prefer my potatoes crispier. I do love the places like this where they have their specialty, and you know what everyone is ordering as soon as they walk through the door. Perhaps they're getting something else as well, but you know they're getting those bravas. I also loved this painting prominently displayed there, so much so that I'm going to put it up again (besides, I've got no other Madrid food pix to post!):



Before moving on to my next post, I should also mention the rather awesome bocata de calamares at El Brillante, located right smack between the Museo Reina-Sofia and Atocha station. I know it's the tradition to get your calamari sandwich somewhere on Plaza Mayor, but I do enjoy the one at El Brillante.

Next up - dinner at Viridiana.

Casa Lucas
Calle Cava Baja 30
Madrid 28005
91 365 08 04

Vinoteca Barbechera
Calle del Principe 27*
Madrid 28039
91 523 78 04

Las Bravas
Calle Alvarez Gato 5
Madrid 28012
91 532 26 20

El Brillante
Plaza Emperador Carlos V 8
Madrid 28012
91 539 28 06

*I have seen several addresses listed online for this place. The street is in fact Calle del Principe. In any event, it's on the southeast corner of the Plaza Santa Ana.

"Modern Gastronomy"

I know I promised Spain posts. It's coming, really. In the meantime, though, some thoughts on the latest entry into the blogosphere, Grant Achatz, chef of Alinea, doing a column in a new Food Section in the Atlantic Online. I note it not just because it's always enlightening to know what Achatz is thinking, but also because in his first entry he describes what he's doing (cooking-wise and such) as "modern gastronomy." I somehow like that so much better than "molecular gastronomy," which still sounds to me like dropping acid and eating a twinkie.

I had notions of doing a lengthier discussion here of "molecular gastronomy" and the alternatives, yet was phumphering around for an elegant solution. I think people (and by "people," I may mean "journalists") like to use "molecular gastronomy" not because it's particularly descriptive or accurate, but because it sounds cool. But - even aside from the misuse of the term, as noted by Ferran Adria, Heston Blumenthal, Thomas Keller, and Harold McGee a couple years ago, all of whom disclaimed that they were doing "molecular gastronomy" (though as far as holding back the use of the term, it seems they were fighting a losing battle), "molecular gastronomy" carries with it some implicit baggage. The "molecular" in particular seems to bring the (often inaccurate or at least overplayed) connotation that it's all about eating food from a chemistry set, as well as the (also often inaccurate) assumption that using contemporary techniques, concepts or ingredients is somehow antithetical to caring about the quality of the ingredients or their expression in a finished dish.

"Modern gastronomy" doesn't have the high-tech effect of "molecular," but, hey, it's still "modern". I'll take that trade-off. Plus, it still keeps the brainy-sounding multisyllabic "gastronomy." And for those who have taken to acronymizing "molecular gastronomy" into "M.G." - no further thought needed.

So - "modern gastronomy"?

Back from Spain

My first trip to Spain was only a few years ago and I instantly fell in love with the country, even though now after a second short visit I still only feel like I am barely scratching the surface. I like the comfortable, almost nonchalant blending of old and new, in the architecture, the culture, the food. I like the seemingly endless brigades of older women in Madrid with their sensible shoes, their warm earthtone-colored coats, and their little dogs, constantly in the streets (Mrs. F took to calling them the "Old Lady Army", or "O.L.A."). I like the international, nightclubby feel of Barcelona, all eurotrashy without the bad attitude. And I like the lush green hills of the Basque country, with the barns made of stone that seems to glow golden when it catches any sunlight, and the sheep that must have claws to hang onto the steep hills as they graze. And (of relevance hereto) I love how one of the uniting and unabiding qualities of seemingly all its people is a passion for good food. And how they have the innate understanding that just about everything is better if you put some ham on it, or an egg - or both.

It will take me a couple days to gather my thoughts and get caught up, but there will be reports on tapas crawls in Madrid and San Sebastian, visits to Viridiana and Goizeko Wellington in Madrid, Arzak and Akelare in San Sebastian, Dos Palillos, Cuines Santa Caterina and Paco Meralgo in Barcelona. Some highlights: percebes (goose barnacles) at Goizeko; pintxos in San Sebastian's Barrio Gros; the whole dining experience at Arzak; the cochinillo and the view at Akelare; the navajas (razor clams) at Dos Palillos; and calçots at Cuines Sta. Caterina.

And yes, there will be some food porn. (I did, for a couple of meals, officially become "that douchebag taking pictures of his food"). Want a preview? How about this:


Not your style? OK, how about this:


More to come.