Málaga

A short bus ride later and Lucy and I were in the beach town of Málaga. Unfortunately, the sub-par weather continued and we were forced to cope with less than ideal beach days. We didn't let that dampen our spirits though, and while it was a little upsetting at first to have made such a long trip for only a few hours of good sun, what are two girls to do? Why, explore the good eats around town, of course! Oh yeah, and we went to a Hammam too, which came highly recommended by the Office of Tourism... very relaxing indeed!

I could write a lot about Malaga, but by the end of our three days there, it was very clear that the one photo... the one moment worth sharing was the infamous (for us at least) "pescadillas."

We had these delightful and friendly looking creatures on our first failed attempt at a beach day. The closer we got to the beach, the more dense the fog became. It was a dark and misty haze descending upon us, too quick to escape from.  True to form, Lucy and I looked for a place to eat. It was a quaint seafood restaurant with white table cloths and friendly servers where we ordered five or six small plates of seafood and a hefty side of yummy potato salad. It all seemed normal enough until four of the cute sounding "pescadillas" came to our table. We were expecting small little flaky fish like the ones at the table next to us. Instead we got this:

AHHHHH! They're biting their own tail fins!

I'll stop right here, the image speaks for itself.

Granada

My adventure continued in the South of Spain. This time, I was accompanied by my good copine (French for friend) Lucy. I was riding high after spending some lovely time in Barcelona and then seeing my beautiful mother and Maria in Madrid. This two-week trip was really the kind of stuff dreams are made of.  Lucy and I took a bus (surprise surprise) out of Madrid to Granada. When we were planning our trip, this seemed entirely brilliant. We would leave Madrid at 10:00PM and arrive in Granada at 7:00AM. We wouldn't have to spend money on accomodation that night, we would sleep soundly on the bus, and have the entire day to explore.

Of course we were wrong. Well, we did leave at night and get to Granada in the morning, but we did NOT sleep soundly on the bus. We arrived in rainy and sleepy Granada at 6 o'clock in the morning to the sounds of trucks splattering water as they drove by and the sight of cold mist which hung in the air and rose up the mountains to the magnificent Alhambra. In addition, my dear Lucy got sick- combination of chilly and wet conditions plus no sleep. Like the trooper that she is, she made it work, and we ended up having a lovely time exploring Granada then Malaga for five days.

We were in Andalucía at the right time of year. Lucy and I were able to experience El Dia de la Cruz, where people decorated their courtyards and public establishments with adorned crosses and flowers. We bought red flowers and peinetas to put in our hair. It was lovely- Olé!

Just stunning craftsmanship

How cute are they!? They were dancing Flamenco !

The food was nothing to ignore. Granada's close proximity to Morocco made it an exciting hub for Arabic culture. This mix of Andalucian Spanish/Mediterranean cuisine and Arabic flavors and culture made for a colorful plate of bursting textures and flavors. The tea-houses, which lined the narrow cobbled roads that spiraled up to meet the majestic Alhambra fortress, were like portals entering into an old Arabian world. Some catered to tourists more than others, but they all had dozens of tea available for tasting at very reasonable prices for the pot. The mint tea was my favorite. We didn't taste any of the pastries, but they all offered bite-sized desserts on large platters. Since it rained a lot while Lucy and I were in Granada (and Malaga for that matter) we often found ourselves seeking refuge in warm tea houses.

 

 
Like I mentioned before, the Tapas in this regions are well-known throughout Spain. Not only are you able to find all sorts of varieties of Tapas at almost any establishment, the quality is superior and the small plates of finger food come out for free with any drink order. This is customary at any bar for example. With every round of drinks (not necessarily alcoholic) the table will receive una tapa. The more drinks you order, the better the tapas get...
Well except for this one, which Lucy and I named the WORST tapa in all of Spain:

It was so awful, we couldn't help but laugh. We ordered a "caña," which is a small glass of white ale beer with or without added citrus flavor, and with the two beers got this beauty of a tapa. Flavorless stale bread and two big RAW lima beans. It wasn't even salted. It was pitiful, but so funny when compared to something like this:

I was very surprised at how reasonable the prices were for any type of food in Spain, but especially in the South. You could get an entire "menu" or formula including an appetizer (entrée), main dish (plat), dessert and a pitcher of the house wine for 12 euros...! not bad at all. Lucy and I had several meals like this... almost all of them included some sort of pork dish... One must love jamon (jam) when in Spain.

Delicious and hearty pork stew with potatoes and carrots.

Braised Chicken, fries... covered in a nice brown sauce. This meal felt very homemade... very hearty and earthy.

For the big Barça vs Madrid game, Lucy and I went to a local tapas bar, and ordered this fried gem. Eggplant drizzled in honey sauce.

Classic Tortilla. One of the many I had on this trip. So thick and rich! I wish I could learn to make tortillas like this. It was topped with a salad drizzled with a house vinaigrette (the perfect tortilla accompaniment!)

Madrid. An amazing capital.

I fell in love with Madrid. You might be wondering why I didn't say the same for Barcelona. I really enjoyed Barcelona, please don't get me wrong... but for me, Madrid was were my culinary affinities were awakened. So much to eat! and so little time. I think it might have been the night life, or the spirit of a truly Spanish city, but I loved my short time here. I met up with my mom and Maria, our amazing friend who was the perfect host.

Tapas.
Little bite-sized portions of food. I got my first taste of real tapas here, and only made me more excited for what I knew was to come during the next leg of my trip to the South of Spain, where tapas originated and are a central part of daily life.

Not only are the people lively and open (and LOUD), their lives are intrinsically linked to what they eat. The first night I was in Madrid, I had arrived via coach bus and I was tired after a twelve hour trip from Barcelona (I wouldn’t quite recommend this mode of transportation but it was cheap and my wallet appreciated it.) It was 9:30 PM and instead of calling it a night, Maria announced that we would sit and eat in the plaza nearest to her apartment building. Okay…fine. I wasn’t about to complain.

She proceeded to order a tortilla, two types of croquetas (perfectly fried bite-sized balls with a semi-solid béchamel-like interior), and three “cañas” which are the Spanish equivalent to small draft beers. Not bad for a Wednesday night.

Not only do people go out to eat a lot later, they take a lot longer to eat too. There is the sense that it is a big communal celebration at each Tapas place/bar you go to. Strangers become fast friends partly due to everyone’s friendly nature but also because these tapas places are so tiny and crowded! 

Olives and delicious wine. Cloud 9. 

Queso Manchego, Pan con tomate (toast rubbed with tomato and garlic and oil), jamon serrano, and more olives!

Segovia

From Madrid, my mom and I took a nice day trip to Segovia for about 12 euros each, round-trip. Not only is Segovia known for the marvel that is its original Roman aqueduct, it is renowned for a culinary specialty known as Cochinillo.

For those of you who have followed my blogs, you might remember my previous one named "My week as a vegan." This entry shows a completely different view on food. It is such a departure from what I usually eat, but as a true lover of food and of trying new things, I ventured in to the world of suckling pig. I'm going to be honest, I don't like the idea of eating a little baby pig- so small and helpless and eaten for its tender meat. The people of Segovia are proud of their tradition of cooking their own variation of suckling pig, generation after generation, with the same attention to detail as their forebearers. They slow cook the animal in special ovens so that the skin is perfectly crispy and the meat so tender it falls off the bone. The sauce that accompanies the cochinillo is made from the flavorful and fatty drippings after hours of broiling. Any native Segovian will tell you that the brilliance of the flavors and texture of the Cochinillo are due to the quality of the ingredients used and the perfect technique. If the Cochinillo is of exceptional quality, there is no need to add garlic or any other spices. This convergence of technical ability and quality products are what you pay for when going to eat at a restaurant serving Cochinillo de Segovia. The french would refer to this as true "savoir faire" (knowing how to do something well.)
                                       
The beautiful restaurant, and my beautiful mom. Casa Vicente, thank you for a lovely meal! They stayed open until we finished our meal even though we were clearly the last ones left from the lunch service. The waiter also thought my mom was my sister... good times.

The Menu. 

The man himself... Vicente. Lookin' good! He was at the restaurant when we ate there, and I noticed he inspected each plate before it left the kitchen which was nice to see. I had a direct view into the kitchen. 

The first course soup. Made of, what else? porc fat chunks. So tender they almost melted in your mouth. The table wine was good too! 

 The "pièce de résistance." When the cochinillo finally came, it looked small, but it packed a punch. The fries were perfectly soaked with the delicious broth making for a perfect pairing, as fries often are.

My mom got two types of Cochinillo- this one was braised and had a smokier flavor. 

Mercat de la Boqueria

The world famous Mercat de la Boqueria is exactly as magnificent and as huge as it appears on all the trendy travel shows and magazines. This market has become, at least in the mind of tourists and travelers alike, synonymous with the city of Barcelona. Its gated entrance holds the allure of a rustic but well-built food fortress which comes alive every morning, bursting at the seams with such color and vibrancy found only in my imagination until I had the chance to experience La Boqueria for myself. 

Katie and I strolled for about an hour and a half through the linear paths between stands barely able to accommodate the width of two people. Nonetheless, hungry and curious customers shove and squeeze their way from one end to the other thousands of times a day. Let me tell you, it is worth the frustration, and the occasional bodily harm to walk trhough this food paradise. They sell everything here, everything you could dream of cooking- from a Spanish perspective. Multiple vendors compete for the same tourists, and its tough competition for every stand is as appealing as the next. Especially eye-catching are the fruit stands and more specifically, those selling all of those same fruits, but in juice form: simply delicious and fresh. I bought about six different types of juice during my stay, and I could have had more!

While La Boqueria does certainly deliver the spectacle and quality that it has come to be known for, there is no doubt that this market is no longer simply just a market in the city of Barcelona. It is an institution. It is a tourist attraction, but it is also a deeply personal family and city staple. The prices for a lot of products are high, and a lot of vendors now announce sales in English. Though I cannot and will not question its authenticity, La Boqueria does not need to win over anyone. It is what it is, and if you don’t like it, fine. Thousands of other people will continue to flood its narrow and deliciously perfumed couloirs long after we are gone.

http://www.boqueria.info/

Katie and I, like previously mentioned, walked around for an hour, bought fruit, juice, some salad, and cod fritters. Then we headed off to our next stop for the day feeling like we had just witnessed something great. We came back down Las Ramblas at the end of a long day toward our hotel, and noticed La Boqueria was closed for the day. At the end of a busy day, the market shuts down only to appear like a dark and rusty warehouse building until the vendors return to start anew the next morning. Only they are privy to the secret of how to transform, in a matter of hours, such an austere and dark structure into something that seems to be expertly splashed with colors directly from a painter’s palate.  

Salted Cod Fritters, Bunyols de Bacalla

Fresh mango slices for 2 euros... not bad!