Madrid, capital city of Spain and home to 3.3 million. Rosie and The Operator felt that at least half of this population were trying to get into the city center about the same time as they were. It took over an hour on the congested roads, battling with the aggressive traffic to drive the 15km from the airport to Calle Mayor in the heart of the old town where we were staying for the next few days.
Madrid at first sight does not have the 360 degree grandness that a lot of the other European capitals possess. It does have amazing wee pockets of brilliance and sizable majesty in the construction of the cities major buildings that sit among the uniform flat faced multi storied buildings with the most beautifully plain wrought iron balconies and shuttered windows.
Madrid also has longevity and style going for it. There are hundreds of shops and restaurants in the city that have golden plaques embedded in the footpaths outside their doors indicating that they have continuously been in business for over 100 years.
Places that have this accolade also have the distinction of having the most beautiful storefronts from yesterday. They are normally wood frontages with either the most beautiful hand written signage or a delicately painted elaborate pictorial sign made of tiles.
For Madrid’s sizable population, its old town is very compact and all of the major sites are easily walkable. After nearly 48 hours worth of continual travel to get here from New Zealand Rosie and The Operator had a quick shower and were mindful of not sitting down as our eyes so wanted to start to close…and it was only 3pm. No sleeping yet for Rosie and The Operator, we had a Tapas, Tavern and History tour crazily booked for 7.30pm on the day of our arrival…we hope we make it and don’t fall asleep. I think we need to nip out for a quick pick me up drink and a wee snack before we go on our drink and snack tour.
This local bar, next to our apartment was delicious! We were going to have a good time in a couple of hours if this was the shape of things to come!
Of course we made it! We met up with our Devour Madrid Tour guide Jake and off the six of us on tonight’s tour went! Jake was an Irish lad who by virtue of a Spanish mother moved here to teach English and History in the local High School. By night he conducts tours for food and history lovers. Jake had a sing song Irish accent when speaking English and an impressive machine gun like Spanish fluency when he spoke to the locals.
Madrid (and Spain in general) is mad about food! This is the land of tapas, small plates of food to share over a small drink or two. Rosie and The Operator wanted to discover the regions delicacies and imbibe in the drinks of the locals in the tucked away ancient places where the native Madrilenos hung out.
Our first stop was Café Labra established in 1860, a shiny gold plaque at the doorway attested to its longevity….and, the décor inside attested to its originality from that time. An old school tapas bar does not have a huge menu, they specialise generally in one thing and do variations of that. It is said that the Spanish Workers Socialist Party formed here in 1879 over its still famous salted battered cod, or Bacalao, of which we have come to taste.
It was about 8pm, the restaurants and bars had just re opened from their afternoon siesta and this place was small, narrow and already busy. Half a dozen tables on the footpath outside were the only seated area, inside was standing room only, no tables at all just a few leaners.
Madrid is land locked yet has the biggest seafood market in Spain. Back in the day fish needed to be preserved for longevity and transportation so it was dried in salt. The preserved, dried fish was then good to last for up to two years! When you want to eat the fish, you rehydrate it in water, simple, just remember to change the water everyday, for three days. This stops the fish retaining the salt and stops it from tasty too salty. The nibble size fish we had was in a beer batter and was so succulent and juicy, you never would have though it had been re hydrated. It seemed bizarre to Rosie that they only eat this fish by this method…. purely still on the back of tradition, they would still never consider eating this fish fresh.
The local drink we tried here was a Sweet Vermouth which the locals normally drink as an aperitif. The best Vermouth we were told will be on a tap in a bar…as this means it is normally hand made. Salut! What a great start in a tightly packed buzzing atmosphere.
Our next restaurant stop was about a half an hour stroll away during which we were going to get a history lesson on the city. Yay, Rosie does like her historical facts and stories.
Walking along, all tiredness was banished and Rosie was looking forward to the rest of the evening…then, an encounter with a lumpy cobblestone caused Rosie to completely face plant in the middle of a busy square.
Lying prostrate on the ground Rosie rolled over to find a good dozen concerned faces crowded around, both strangers and familiar all reaching forward to help Rosie up. The shame of my fall allowed Rosie to leap to her feet like a young gazelle when normally Rosie only moves at sloth like speed from that level.
Rosie’s new silver shoes were irreparably scuffed one day into of her holiday, her ego was dented and her knees were throbbing. With a fake smile on her face she dusted down her pants and soldiered on. Rosie was now more than ever looking forward to the next drink stop.
Meson del Champinon tapas specialty was stuffed mushrooms and they were out of this world!
Squeezed into the long thin room with ‘schroom’ like protrusions growing out of the vaulted ceiling we ate these super hot morsels and washed them down with a Tinto de Vernaro.
This was a refreshing drink of chilled local red wine mixed with sparkling lemon squash on ice with a slice of orange. The secret of Spain, said Jake….is that the locals don’t drink Sangria….this is their version, Sangria is for the visiting Brits he said.
Every single bar, restaurant and café in Spain has a leg of ham sitting waiting to be cut. The most exclusive and expensive ham in Spain is the Iberian Ham. You can tell it apart by it’s black hoof as it comes from the black hoofed Iberian pig. These big pigs run wild in acorn forests and exclusively eat the nuts and forest leavings, which helps make the ham so special. Iberian ham is cured for up to 48 months in some areas before it is sold…for approx 48€ per kilo….there is normally 6kgs in a leg…$576NZD per leg. No wonder they cut it so thin!
These beautiful thin slices of slightly dry ham are eaten on their own as a tapa accompanied by a local cheese or can be put on your morning breakfast sandwich. Rosie has seen them finishing a pizza as well, the ham is never cooked with the pizza, but placed on top afterwards. It is delicious, rich tasting, dry ham with a perfect salty finish.
La Casa del Abuelo was Rosie’s favorite stop of the night, another small old local bar in a buzzing area of Madrid. The colourful signage outlining their menu was hand painted on the windows and the room warm and welcoming with an intense smell of delicious garlic.
Prawns are the specialty here as is the Tinto Abuelo (sweet red wine) from the families vineyards. It was odd, Rosie dosen’t drink red, The Operator dosen’t do sweet….but that wine…..we both loved it.
Everything was well on point as we stood around chatting and eating garlic and chilli prawns swimming in a saucy goodness that we mopped up with chunks of fresh crusty bread. The shrimp croquettes, well, the fillings are all mixed with bechamel and are creamy and delicious, take a bite, your eyes roll back in your head and you are transported straight to heaven.
As Rosie sipped her sweet red wine she took in the sights and smells of this tiny wee place. Inside the bar there were no stools or areas to sit. These places are standing room only, designed for a drink and a couple of small plates, no lingering, before you move on to the next bar and the next course. Mind you there were about 40 people standing shoulder to shoulder and not an inch of space to spare. The kitchen was a tiny area in the corner of the bar, room for one man and sizzling, steaming frying pans.
The oasis of calm in the room was behind the bar that stretched from one side of the room to the other, the apron wearing barman was master of his domain and the center of the theater that went on behind there in the only clear space available.
When you walked into the bar, it was the barman that directed you where you should stand, you called out your order to him if you were not directly at the bar. He in turn bellowed your food order to the kitchen…which was less than 6 feet away. The cook then bellowed acknowledgment back. Your drinks were then handed in a human chain from the customers in the front to you in the back. We are so glad we went with Jake….these are the places Rosie and The Operator would have really wanted to visit on our own but would have felt a bit to intimidating to enter without knowing how it ‘worked’. Now we will have no problems entering these small bars and being more confident of the protocols.
Oh, and by the way, you just drop your rubbish on the floor. Serious, Rosie couldn’t get over how littered the floors were in every bar and café she had been into so far in Madrid. It is custom, said Jake, to just drop your napkins, toothpicks that you eat with and empty sugar sachets, so many sugar sachets…on the floor. Rosie didn’t get it, why would you? Well said Jake, you know how cramped it is in the bars, you cannot move…so you cannot get to a rubbish bin. Drop your rubbish, go on, I dare you, he said. Rosie couldn’t….there was no need….she squashed up her napkins and put them on her empty plate to be taken away. Civilized like.
As we walked from bar to bar, The Operator had a tight grip on Rosie’s arm so she wouldn’t tip over again. Don’t worry, Rosie wasn’t going to repeat that episode in a hurry. Jake gave us an awesome history lesson on the sights of Old Town Madrid, don’t worry, even though it is magical seeing them at night…we will revisit them in the morning.
It was 1030 at night and we were in prime Spanish dinner time, the city was buzzing and the footpaths and squares were full of people. What a crazy time to be eating our whole tour party thought…Rosie was thankful she wasn’t the only one who admitted to normally being tucked up in bed at this time having eaten my evening meal at 6.30ish.
Las Casa de las Torrijas was the last stop of the night and here we were having a sit down meal of some of the traditional Spanish favorites.
Tomato stuffed with tuna mousse, Spanish Potato Omelette, Croquettes stuffed with ham and cheese bound in that dreamy bechamel sauce, crumbed and fried. Beef Cheeks cooked in red wine, and a desert of Torrijas to finish – bread soaked in an eggy custard and fried plus another version of it where the bread is soaked in wine, fried then sprinkled in sugar. What a glorious feast with great company! Jake also gave us the low down on how things go down here in Spain.
The Spanish rise late and eat late…shops open at about 1000am, second breakfast (it is a thing, not sure if Jake was having us on) happens at about 1130 where coffee, churros or a small bocadillo (bun sandwich) is eaten, normally with ham, cheese and a yummy tomato paste.
At 2pm lunchtime starts for normally two hours. The local shops shut and lunch is the main meal of the day where most people either go home for a cooked meal or go out to a restaurant.
Look out for local restaurants that offer the Menu of the Day…2 courses, water, bread, wine/beer and coffee for up to 10euros. Or sit at a small Tapas bar and sample plates for up to 2euros each.
Then at 4pm, the shops/offices re open, suit jackets get put back on and everyone goes back to work. The restaurants/bars sometimes shut for their own break to reopen at 7 pm. This early re opening time seems to be for the tourists….and prep, cause tourists are totally the only ones eating at this time.
At 8pm, when work finishes and the offices close, there is a flurry of locals having drinks only for about an hour, then they disappear. Then the locals come out for a light dinner at about 10pm.
After the tour Rosie thought it would be hard going straight to bed with a fullish stomach….nah, the Vermouth digestive certainly helped. Rosie and The Operator can also say how easy we slipped into Spanish time….what seemed so foreign….now, is another way of life.
When in Rome….ooops, Madrid.
PS – this is what Rosies knee looked like after a couple of days….
Tomorrow is another day, and Rosie and The Operator are going to show you the sights of Madrid, after a well deserved nights sleep that is!
