Epicurean Diaries Vol. 3

After quite the wait, here is the next installment. Lots of food and drink since the last one.

Chorizo picante

My first experience with chorizo here in Spain wasn't a pleasant one. Host mother pulled out this moldly looking slab of sausage one night for dinner. It was all dark and full of fat. She sliced me off a piece--I did not enjoy it. However, I was talking one night about how much I love spicy food and how there is no spicy food in Spain. She mentioned some spicy chorizo that Jesús likes. So I had some, uncooked, but still delicious. She said it was "muy picante." Not entirely true but I guess for a Spaniard who has never heard of a jalapeño before, that would be true. It was good chorizo though, and it did have a bit of a bite to it (though not quite like Mexican chorizo). I had it a few days later cooked, was much better still. 

Vino tinto

I was going to have separate categories for all these different red wines I've been having, but then I realized that I'm not skilled enough, if you will, at discerning the differences and subtleties of wines. I've ordered house wines (vino tinto de la casa) at a Korean BBQ in Madrid, restaurante Candela, and two others from there, plus house wine from El Espejo (if you remember from la noche en blanco). They were all good to great. And before this I was never a huge fan of wine in general. Either I've grown accustomed to the taste, or the wine really is just better here. And so cheap too. In the stores, as I've said, you can get a bottle from .79€ -- in most restaurants the tinto de la casa is going to be about 10€, and quite good. So..if you come to Spain, get red wine, and you won't be disappointed.

Korean BBQ

My friends Monica and Kristine took me out to a Korean BBQ in Madrid last week since they were missing Korean food and I've never had it before. Started off with fried dumplings, which I could not tell the difference between Korean and Chinese fried dumplings -- nevertheless, they were quite good, if unfortunately in small portions (only four tiny ones! Really need to find a Chinese buffet around here). The girls had this spicy soup called Kim Chi, I had a taste it was very good -- but you know me, I already get enough soup at home here, that I refrained from having any more. Main course was the actual BBQ ribs, called Kalbi. If you've never been to a Korean grill before...the grill is actually in the middle of the table and either you or the server cooks the food right there on the table. Monica and Kristine knew how so they prepared out meal. I'm not quite sure what the sauce was, but it was amazing. Plus, meat! How often do I get that here? I was quite excited. It was fun actually cooking your meat to your liking then just tossing it on your plate -- a kitchen so close is useful, especially since I was starving. So I filled up on white rice and Kalbi and the fine vino tinto de la casa. Quite the good dinner.

La merienda a la terraza de El Espejo

Merienda is usually a snake during midday, after lunch, but before dinner, in order to hold oneself over until dinner. I'm applying it here to our 2am snack and drink in Madrid during la noche en blanco. Or, as Rebeca put it "You know what this is right here? Fourth meal." We ordered a plate of jamón ibérico and manchego, along with bread. I got a glass of the house wine (as I've said, you can't go wrong here in Spain with red wine). Normally I hate manchego, it's so saltly and strong and just plain foul (I'm starting to think that that's just the manchego that host mother gets) -- but this manchego was much more mild and delicious. That, or I'm just getting used to manchego. A slice of bread, a slice of manchego, and the coup de grâce: jamón ibérico. The best ham you can get in the world. The only thing coming from a pig that I like. Familiar faces should know that I do not like ham nor pork chops nor bacon...however, when in Spain, ham is about the greatest thing I can eat. And this jamón ibérico was fantastic. Cut fresh off the (dead and cured) pig's leg, in tiny little strips, perfect for making tiny bocadillos with the cheese. These bocadillitos and the wine were a perfect combination and an excellent mid-night snack to refuel our energy before we continued on for another four hours.

Camembert

For a while, I just referred to this as the "French cheese" because I didn't know how to pronounce it. As noted before, I was having troubles adjusting to manchego and even the Wisconsin cheddar I brought over (I don't like yellow cheddars...I know, from Wisconsin and don't like cheddar!), so I was determined to find an alternative cheese because I was going through cheese withdrawals (unfortunately they don't have pepper jack here...I may die). Searching through Carrefour for a suitable cheese, I found only two saving graces: Brie and Camembert. I wanted to eat it immediately, and only Camembert came in individually wrapped chunks, so I picked that up. While the mold on the outside was a turn off at first, I have quickly adapted and am now in love with Camembert. It is what keeps me alive and not withering away due to lack of cheese. It's so rich, so creamy...I have a chunk for nearly every meal. Goes great on bread but I can just as easily tear into it by itself. Oh the French, saving me once again. 

Common Fig

Or, in Spanish, higo. A friend of the family rang the doorbell one day and Candela opened the door to reveal Juan, a fast talking and very impassioned Spaniard, friend of Candela's kids Estrella and Antonio. He was carrying grocery bags full of food--and shoes-- and started pouring stuff on the kitchen table (where we had just been eating at--Candela was quite quick to clear the table when she found out he was coming up, never have seen her so excited or so fast). He pulled out this green fruit and basically shoved one in my face, peeling the skin down like a banana, to reveal this half strawberry, half sea coral looking interior. I was intrigued, and shoved my face into the fruit. Oh so sweet. He mumbled that it was "yigo" or something, I didn't picked up what it really was called until a few days later, when I was devouring one I asked Candela and she spelled it out for me (wrong, but Google can help with that). Found out it was the common fig. Makes sense, now that I think about it they do kinda taste like Fig Newtons. I think that if el higo was an animal and not a fruit, I wouldn't eat it. The insides would look disgusting coming from an animal. Weird, I know. It's so delicious, so sweet. It's coated in this gooey sweetness that remind me of honey. So, it's like eating a coral strawberry covered in honey. 

That's all for this installment, expect another one next week. I'm going to be heading out tonight to eat for dinner and possibly again Sunday -- in Madrid. I'm thinking either Casa Botín (Hemingway's favorite) or else something Middle Eastern. Weird that now that I'm in Spain I'm eating at non Spanish restaurants that I could just as easily find in Madison or Milwaukee. 

What days we've had..

Wow.

That was a long two days past, and not a lick of time to recount it. Yet. Where to begin. Most logically, Thursday.

Thursday night the majority of us (save for only two people in our group!) went out to Ensanche for dinner at an "Italian" restaurant. Ensanche is a barrio of Alcalá that is quite far away from el centro...a good 20 minute or so bus ride. So one of our friends was dying for Italian food and saw this good place in Ensanche, so we loaded up in the bus and headed out. We get to this really ghetto looking place (really dark, full of graffiti and no one on the streets) called Ensanche. We wander around til we find out friends then head to this "Italian" restaurant. Okay, why do I keep putting Italian in quotes? Well...the only Italian thing about this place was that there was a sign board outside the bar/diner that had frozen pasta dishes on it. So much for sitting in low lighting drinking fine wine and overall eating food similar to Olive Garden than authentic Italian. Best part, they didn't even have their frozen pasta dishes. So it was frozen pizzas or sandwiches. I ended up getting a bocadillo de jamón serrano...probably the easiest sandwich to make, at least definitely from what everyone else ordered. And yet it came after the frozen pizzas and after the more "gourmet" sandwiches. Quite pissed. Although, I couldn't stop laughing at the hilarity of the whole situation. The whole premise. El porqué of why we were there in the first place. As one friend put it I have the worst luck in the world. I more or less agree. As she also stated later, asking how the dinner was, on a scale of 1-10, "The diner was a -5 but the experience was a 10." I completely agree. Everything about the meal was pretty high on the shit scale but the time we had more than made up for it. We had a better time than we would have had at a real Italian restaurant. The night was a success.

Madrid

Now this was a very exhaustive day as well. We left at 9am with 13 of us and the 3 remaining of us arrived back in Alcalá at 11pm. Our resident director led us on a tour of a small portion of Madrid for a while. We walked down el Paseo del Prado. Saw the outsides of: la Reina Sofia, el Prado, la Caixa Forum, el Congreso, el gobierno de Madrid, la Plaza de España, la Plaza Mayor, y la Puerta del Sol. It was a quick nearly running tour of the city. I loved how when we got to la Puerta del Sol, she told us to watch out for our bags because this was the most populated section of a city in the world for thieves to be (she didn't really back up this statement with data but we'll forgive her). And yet then she proceeded to stop our group in front of the government building, in the center of la Puerta del Sol and give us tourist information, clearly labeling us all as marks. Great job avoiding the thieves there...

Throughout this tour we stopped a few times for more than a minute to discuss and relax. With nothing but food on the mind I took out my bocadillo de tortilla that my host mother made for me. Her own mom's special recipe. It's so good. I got a bite into it before we had to get moving the first time. The next time we were all in awe at some statue (not sure why...believe it was Carlos III) so I grab my boca and just as I get it out of the foil...we move on and I have to pack it up. Finally we're sitting there watching some acrobats suspended high up above a plaza. I figure, perfect time to eat while everyone is taking photos. I get my boca out, unwrap the foil and I'm about to take a bite when we start moving again. So I quickly wrap it back up and throw it in the bag it came in (one of those long bags you get French bread in) and the bottom falls out and my boca hits the ground. Doesn't matter, it tastes so good and I was so hungry I ate it all later.

Ok, enough about food (although I got a whole other post just about my dinner I had in Madrid...). After our lunch, we all relaxed in the famous and extremely large Retiro park (think Central Park). We walked in a few feet (sorry, meters) and plopped ourselves down on a hill and rested up after our terrific walking adventure earlier. Some people actually slept, some were being productive, reading, writing. I had forgot my journal. For shame. I just sat and enjoyed the moment, trying not to think about how bad I had to pee and how there weren't any bathrooms around for miles. And taking photos. So as soon as I get those up I'll post them on Flickr and here. Retiro was fun but now it was time for some to head back to Alcalá. 

I head out with Maya and Armani to go shopping on Gran Vía, the ritzy, expensive street in Madrid. We didn't quite make it that far. First, we got lost, even with using a map. You see, the streets in Madrid and throughout most of Europe (and Boston as well, I'm told) don't make any sense. They didn't really have city planners back hundreds of years ago. So la Puerta del Sol is the center of the old city and all roads lead to it. It's all radial and not grid. Makes it very difficult to get anywhere. Plus there are no street signs, just engravings on the sides of buildings letting you know what street you're on. Basically, it's designed to get the traveler lost so they end up spending more money because they're hungry and thirsty and cranky because they can't find that damn Correos. So yes, it's very easy to get lost in Madrid, even with maps. However, knowing the language helps. I don't see how someone who doesn't speak Spanish could get by in Madrid. 

We at least made it to la Puerta del Sol where there were plenty of shops of which I believe led to Gran Vía. I'm convinced that if I had the money, I could buy my whole wardrobe at Sfera because it's completely awesome. Jackets, sweaters, shirts, pants, etc. They have it all and it actually looks good. After that I was determined to find a Correos (post office) and mail a package back to the States (guess which one of you will hopefully be receiving something in the mail in probably 2 weeks from now assuming it doesn't get lost...). In Spain, it's very easy to spot a Correos because they are bright yellow all over with very bright yellow signs sticking outside of the building saying "Correos." Yet I could not find a single one wherever our trek took us. I end up asking a police officer in the shopping district (no doubt looking out for those thieves that Cristina was mentioning so much about) and he told me that El Corte Inglés had one. What doesn't Corte Inglés have? 

I got to Corte Inglés, which has the be the worst place for a person with a headache because the whole place screws with your brain, it's a completely sensory overload. You seriously cannot think straight there, and that's exactly what they want. You can barely even find the exits. Seriously, if you visit Spain, go to El Corte Inglés and see if you don't develop brain cancer. I ran around asking various people where the Correos was, and I ended up in the parking garage standing in line for 15 minutes only to find out they didn't have the box I needed. However, the other Corte Inglés (muy cerca, so I was told) did have the right boxes. I spend another 20 minutes trying to locate this other Corte Inglés that for a moment I was sure didn't exist. Finally find it, go up to the 8th floor, find the tiny Correos desk, get everything ready...but realize to send the package would be pretty expensive. Not a problem, this was an important package. However, I only had 20€ in my pocket and they didn't accept credit cards. Where was the nearest cajero automatico I asked them...oh the basement? How fun. So I hop down to the basement then back up with money. We get everything set. I send the package...as if it will even arrive in the States.

A small el mundo es un pañuelo (it's a small world) moment: The clerk at the second Correos noticed my return address (IUIEN at Universidad de Alcalá). She was a secretary there just two years ago. Her name was Susana. I felt much better after talking to her (before I had been panicked, headached, and nearly drenched in sweat). A sigh of relief.

By this time only Monica and Kristine were left in Madrid, so I met up with them (after getting terribly lost again, only this time with dwindling minutes on my phone-- if someone was filming me from the Correos on to the Jamba Juice imitator where I met up with the girls, I imagine it would look a lot like Bourne Ultimatum). They were missing Korean food so we found a "restaurante coreano - barbacoa." The food will be detailed in another post but the time we had was tremendous. I love going out to eat, especially after a long and exhaustive day. Getting a bottle of wine and just relaxing, unwinding, letting the terrors and worries of earlier melt away over a good dinner with friends. Spain is still a very foreign country to me, but the friends I am making here are making the transition all the more easier. I'm finding a bit of comfort and warmth that I'd only usually find at home--here--4,160-some miles away, in Spain, among friends.