I arrived in Barcelona this morning and after checking into my hotel (big thanks to Nurse Myra) and going round to my daughter's house, we ambled through the unfailingly interesting streets to the main market, which is abundance made real - forget the horn of plenty and head for the boqueria.
We got chairs at the counter at my daughter's favourite place and we had:
a plate of grilled sardines, scattered with fresh herbs and lemon;
a plate of clams, with garlic and parsley and oil;
a plate of grilled peppers;
a plate of tiny octupuses (octopi, if you like - polpo if you're Spanish I think [certainly if you're Italian]) cooked with lemon and herbs.
All the things were served quickly, simply, really fresh, extremely delicious and hardly costing anything. Nothing swank about the place, but food that couldn't be faulted.
Then we went to Granja M. Viader, just before it closed for siesta and I had melindros - sponge fingers which I dipped into what was essentially melted chocolate with a great huge splodge of cream on top. This is turning into a great eating - I mean outing (to misquote Best Friends for Frances). Now I am resting before we go out to eat some more. Hurray for Barcelona.
How fantastic! I'm starving now.
ReplyDeleteGaw - I imagine you've eaten by now but, in case you're hungry again, here's what I had for dinner:
ReplyDeletelittle fish, smaller than sardines, but larger than white bait, cooked like whitebait and absolutely delicious
baccala with tomatoes and raisins and pinenuts
Iberian ham, very thinly sliced, like prosciutto but with a more interesting flavour
very finely sliced and cooked until crisp pieces of eggplant (aubergine), with the nicest goat's cheese I've ever tasted (no hint of sweaty vests or old socks at all) and a little honey (don't know why but it worked brilliantly)
bread with some kind of tomato concoction on it
rioja
Beats Little Chef (even the one at Popham).
And do you have any energy for walking around Barcelona or any you completely stuffed?
ReplyDeleteWaddling, Madame, that's all I'm up to now. Like a foie gras goose, I waddle from meal to meal (unlike a foie gras goose, of course, there is no forcing and no funnel involved) (does that sound faintly risque in some obscure way [something to do with the funnel perhaps?]? It isn't meant to).
ReplyDelete