The Tongue Libertine » A week in Madrid

Eating in Madrid 8: Finishing up with a little plate of perspective

DL — Thu, 10 Jan 2008 03:25:41 +0000

Food, tied to place, is a great rarity in America. We have a national cuisine, but increasingly that national cusine is, in fact, what is America – an amalgam of cultures, tastes, and approaches. This is good, certainly, but it comes at a price. That price is paid every time you suffer through chow mein, through chicken tender kebabs, through spaghetti with meatballs, through nachos or fajitas, or any other number of culinary atrocities committed in the name of making the world acceptable to the American palate. That same palate, nurtured under the paternalistic eye of a government that would rather feed its people beef mixed with illegal meat packer than unpasteurized cheese, is utterly unprepared to eat food that is about something.

Spain is a start.

Food, tied to a place, is about something. And the food in Spain, still, is about something. Of course there are the ubiquitous McDonald’s (although thankfully not as ubiquitous as they might be), and there is – completely inexplicably – Starbucks, but there is also an enormous care for the food and the meal. At least for now, that is the greatness of Spain, and my most enduring reason to tell other to go. Quickly.

Eating in Madrid 7: Pretapas tapas

DL — Tue, 11 Dec 2007 01:00:58 +0000

For an American, eating in Madrid is an athletic endeavor. It’s not a matter of quantity (except in the aggregate sense), it’s the sheer frequency that threatens to exhaust all but the most fevered and dedicated eaters. One doesn’t have to eat six times a day. Indeed, no. But, you’ll want to. Hence…the pretapas tapas.

Designed to hold you over between your lunch of bean stew, lamb, bread, a bottle of wine, desert, and a coffee and your inevitable pilgrimage to the tapas bars, the pretapas tapas can be had anytime after five or six in the afternoon (Madrid time). Best choices are something with a little substance, both to keep you from getting peckish and as a way to ward off the effects of the two bottles of wine you’re likely to enjoy over the next eight hours.

Here we have jamon (of course) on toasted bread with a drizzle of olive oil, and anchovies with tomatoes (also on bread with a drizzle of olive oil).

Eating in Madrid 6: Surviving the menu del dia in style

DL — Wed, 05 Dec 2007 13:44:41 +0000

Permit me to introduce you, dear reader, to Casa Patas.

Me: Dear reader, meet Casa Patas

Me: Casa Patas, meet dear reader

Case Patas: I have a 9 euro menu el dia that includes a bottle of wine, four courses, coffee, and great people watching. Oh, and I’m the premier flamenco spot in the Madrid.

Dear reader (you): drooooool

Yep, trust me, that is exactly how it would go. There might be a little more drooling than that, or perhaps even stronger exclamations of wonder. But, you get the gist.

Daily menus are commonplace in Madrid, indeed in many European cities. Designed, in their best incarnations, as a way for the restaurant to showcase the freshest and most interesting bits of the cook’s larder, but all too often the worst sort of tourist invitation to bad and overpriced food. There is, in Madrid, certainly some of the latter. But, and this is an important but, there is much more of the former.

The best example of this is Casa Patas. Located in the heart of the old city, this place is the real deal.

How real? Look again, closely, at what Casa Patas offers – for lunch. Four courses! Think warm crusty bread with olive oil; think a warm bean stew with little bits of seafood, cream, and a touch of olive oil; think braised lamb with peppers and onions; think fantastic coffee and a little panna cotta. And…a bottle of wine. That is a menu del dia that anyone could be proud of.

Oh, yeah, Casa Patas also does some flamenco, both old and new school: for example.

I’m not sure that Casa Patas should be the reason you visit Madrid, but it a strong reason for enjoying yourself once you’re there.