Un lugar sin nombre en el Carrer de l'Or

Abrumados por la insistente oferta de la calle Verdi de cocinas especiadas y exóticas, palestina, siria, libano y otros reinos del cordero, y habiéndonos negado a hacer cola por enésima vez para cenar en el Kibuka (cocina japonesa o del palo), entramos a restaurarnos en un diminuto local de la calle del Oro (Carrer de l'Or). No sé lo que nos llamó la atención, puesto que no recuerdo el nombre, ni siquiera si lo tenía, y la carta a bote pronto tampoco prometía manjares exóticos. Fue problablemente el hecho de que hubiera sitio libre a aquellas horas en zona tan concurrida a eso de la cena.

Un par de ensaladas nos pareció lo apropiado para empezar. Comenzó también el juego de contrastes. La carta estaba toda en catalán y sólo en catalán (de momento no multan si no está en inglés o en bereber) así que transcribiré, si necesario y en castellano, el nombre de los platos. Decía, empezamos con una Amanida Lyon (ensalada de Lyon), que fue lo siguiente: dos tostadas, con sendas rodajas de queso tibio de cabra, sobre una base de distintas variedades de lechuga apañadas de mala manera y excesivamente salada. Decepción.

La Amanida L'Escala -vaya nombrecitos tan elegantes- fue un bálsamo reparador: base de tomate, con boquerones y un aliño vinagretero a la oliva negra. Mucho mejor. De ahí, pasamos al Assortiment de truites (surtido de tortillas), quizá lo más reseñable, de verduras, habitas tiernas y patata y al surtido de pates, que no estuvo mal pero que a mí sólo me supo a paté a la pimienta.

Por último y de postre una copa de helado de turrón con nata y chocolate y una brocheta de frutas al chocolate. Perfectamente me lo hubiera podido preparar yo en casa con igual o mejor resultado (este criterio se lo debo a mi madre), pero tampoco vamos a criticar por criticar.Ah,no probé el pastel de chocolate con chocolate, tenía miedo de que no fuera otra cosa que pastel de chocolate con chocolate.

Todo ello, acompañado de tres cervezas (checas y del país) y par de botellas de agua, nos salió por unos 48 euros. Bien, teniendo en cuenta que éramos tres, que el servicio fue rápido y atento y que no nos quedamos con hambre. Propina: la maldita crisis nos hizo quedar como unos rijosos.

En resumen, un oasis de comida sin pretensiones en la marabunta de parque temático de la zona de la calle Verdi.

Carrer de l'Or (al lado de un wok, a la altura del número 21)
Barrio de Gracia (Barcelona)

PD: prometo una entrada acerada sobre una cerveza Barcelonesa (y no me refiero al orín gasificado marca Damm).

Do jutra.

¡Una de champis!

Zaragoza is the place where I was born. I can't avoid it, and, why not, I like it; maybe that's because I don't live there, but I really like it. As Longanice says, Zaragoza is an ugly town with very marvellous places. Well, maybe not marvellous, but just beautiful. And not all of them are hidden places... Probably the main reason of my love to this town are my memories; more than twenty years of them are kept among the streets and bars of this town.

Something I miss in Barcelona and I could do in Zaragoza is having dinner just with tapas. Of course in Barcelona you can have some nice tapas, but the verb "tapear" was not made up here. However in Zaragoza, you can taste really good tapas at almost any disctrict of the town; even at the most seedy, greasy, stinking bar you might find the best croquette or vinegary anchovy you have ever dreamt of.

And, like in any other matter of life, fashion exists in tapas. The most fashionable area to eat tapas right now in Zaragoza are the streets behind the old "Puerta Cinegia", now retrieved as a shopping centre. There are many bars you could choose at "Libertad" Street, but in case you hesitate, just go to the crowded one (this is a veeeery old advice, I know; but it's an advice nobody gave me but I usually try to follow).

However, I still want to talk about two bars I went to the last time I had tapas in this area. But I will only recommend one of them.

The one I love is the one where you can eat mushrooms. They're hot, too hot sometimes, but great. I could eat like ten of those. You can also find them in Logroño.

The other one, much more "fachionable" (yes, faChionable), is "Manjares: delicias en miniatura". Menos diseño y más chicha, por favor. The wine was scarce (2-3 € the glass), the risotto with foie was correct, but the waiter destroyed it when he served it, and the Idon'tknowwhat with artichokes was not even correct. Go to the seedy bars and avoid the "new comers" when you search for tapas.

Tasteful paradise

One of my favourite moments whenever I come to Zaragoza is going out and eating a tapa before lunch with Jack. We used to do it in "El rincon", a not very fashionable bar (even a bit seedy, I'd dare to say), becouse of its foie toast, which is said to be one of the best in town. But it was quite expensive and the atmosphere was not what I call "romantic".

Fortunately, my partner re-discovered to me "El Antiguo Paraiso" (4, Dato St., really close to the Gran Via) and El Rincon days are off.

The toast is at least as good as the other, the place is lovely and quite cheaper. Last time we also ate mussels (but those little mussels I prefer, nothing to do with "La mejillonera" ones) and baby squid made with "Pedro Ximenez" liquor. Delicious. A couple of rouge glasses (Cariñena, which is becoming one of my favourites, very affordable and with a nice taste) and all this luxury for our tongues cost 15 euros. Very reasonable, from my point of view.

As good as popular

The third week I was living in Barcelona I was speaking with some friends about the areas where each one lived. After saying I lived in Guinardó, somebody told me that, if I lived close to the Paseo Fabra i Puig, I had to know an Aragonaise Bar called "LA ESQUINICA". I'm afraid I didn't, but I still tried to remember the name of the restaurant. Two weeks later, a good old friend of mine who has been living in Barcelona for years, told me about a "very cañí" place at Fabra i Puig, where there were different types of "tapas", and not expensive at all. The name was again LA ESQUINICA. But three weeks ago, a friend from Figueres told me he had once been hours in a car with his boss, looking for a restaurant called LA ESQUINICA. Well, definitely, I had to go to such a popular place.

So I did. I must say I expected something much more grotty than what I found, after all the seedy descriptions I had heard (people from Aragon are really humble; the place was more than fine). It's a simple but cute place, very typically decorated. The ceiling had plenty of "cachirulos" (the typical shawl from the village festivity in Aragon) with different colours, depending on the town or village it comes from. The waiters were very pacient and friendly, singing all the tapas they could offer as the multiplication table; obviously, he had to repeat it a dozen of times. Once we had made up our minds we asked for longaniza (the spicy pork sausage from Aragon), some toasted bread with tomatoe, sauté mushrooms, and spicy potatoes (spécialité de la maison). Everything was tasty and we could hardly finish it, so plentiful it was.

Fortunately, we had gone dinning like the French do: 8 pm, otherwise, we would have had to wait about an hour to get a table. After 20:30 people have to get a number, as at the greengrocer's, and wait in the street until there's a table for them. The system is quite primitive but it works. When living, someone gave me a lollipop, but I still don't know why (something related to the fact of being in the smoker's area, but I have never smoked; weird...

Don't open a new one, please

Really close to the heart of Zaragoza there's one of the restaurants everyone knows, everybody has at least once eaten, and nobody dislikes it. "El Antiguo Tabernillas" (Inocencio Jimenez) is a well known place among the lawyers, architects, journalists and workers around since 1954; the environment, the food (tapas and some traditional food) and the location have driven to success this restaurant. In 2001 the owner decided to open another restaurant in another centrally situated street (Ponzano St.). The place was more comfortable, with more room between the tables, and I would dare to say, it was more "restaurant" than the old one, which seemed a bit more seedy. However, I still preffered the old one, more typical and as crowed as usual. I'm afraid the prices also helped, as the new place was a bit more expensive, and I usually keep my head above the water.
But (there's always one "but") a new "Tabernillas" has arrived to town.

Located right in the middle of the shopping zone of Zaragoza (Madre Vedruna), this restaurant pretends to be as good as its predecessors, but nothing could be further from the truth. First, it seems it has been opened the following day the old restaurant closed: no repairs have been done, but some painting and two new lamps. It seems they wanted to open really quickly, but with a unwise result. Secondly, the waiters were not qualified enough; it took them like half an hour to come to attend us. But the worse, the really unforgivable fact was the bad food, no other adjective could fit better; too cold, too strong, too vulgar. I ate some deer, a choice of which I would have usually eaten every last crumb, and I couldn't finish it, so heavy it was.
The best choice was my sister's who asked for some typical vegetable only eaten in this region (borraja, borage), although my grandmother would have certainly cooked it better.
Yes, I'm afraid I'm like Mr. Longanice: I preffer good old places to the new.

Disgusting but lovely tapas

There's a special sort of restaurants where you'd only go when ten more people go with you, where I would never take my lover for a romantic soiré. There used to be one of those called "Savoy" (nothing to do with the traditional Savoy) in Zaragoza.
Really close to the Ramblas, in a tiny street where streets can't go (Xuclá) Los Toreros turns up. At first sight, there are not many tables, but there's a huge hall inside. Tables of about 15 hungry people who hardly have seen each other out of their jobs or their classes are always waiting for their dishes.
And there goes the long-suffering waitress carrying three dishes on each arm. Don't expect anything special: spicy fries, grilled prawns, cured ham, chorizo, spicy sausage,... a great number of different snacks (the world known "tapas"). The waiters start taking out dishes and they don't stop for a long time; anything you want, you can eat it twice.



However, I can't lie; what makes the place so attractive to people is the fact that you can drink all the red wine and sangria you can (they also take out some water,... I think...). After half an hour people from different tables are talking with everyone. The day I visited the place, a quite confused couple from some nothern country where really frightened. One of my friends is an strict vegetarian who hates bull-fighting and doesn't eat meat or fish at all. As you see, it was a very original night.
At eleven o'clock the cook comes out from the kitchen and in a very ungry way he "invites" you to leave the restaurant. They have booked tables for more people and wants us to leave. Once you're out you notice you smell like a croquette.

Mussels at March 5th Street

I don't really know if you have ever been to Zaragoza or its surroundings, but there are plenty of old, small places where you can eat a sandwich made of ingredients which may be quite exotic for a foreigner. One of this is La Mejillonera, always located in a tiny street in the centre of the town, called Moneva. This small bar is specialized in mussels (mejillón in Spanish) and in squid sandwiches, as the one showed.
However, last week I was wandering around another central street from Zaragoza, called March 5th (remembering an old battle which took place in this town in the "Carlists" war; read a history book if you want to know more about it), and I found a pleasing surprise: another subsidiary of la Mejillonera had been opened. So a bit later, in order to avoid the nuisance of going starving to the cinema, I decided to go in and eat something.
All comparison is false, but anyway, there I go (I'm talking about the Moneva's one). The one at March 5th is newer, with much more space between the tables and the bar and, ofering the same, it seemed to me a more comfortable option. I chose a table and the waiter arrived immediatly, as if he had been waiting for me the whole evening. I asked for a squid sandwich, spicy, of course, a plate of mussels and a glass of red wine. The bread was gummy, and that was quite strange, because bread is one of the reasons I always come to this place. It was not so bad, but the new place started to seem less comfortable than before... Let's go on... I decided to change, so I decided to taste those nice mussels waiting for me. Everything was fine, what a tasty sauce,... but then I saw something shining in the mussel; the sauce was so good I decided to fake I hadn't notice anything. But then, that shine became in my mouth an unpleasant feeling, like sand among my teeth and I found myself chewing a piece of nacre. I swalowed some wine and bless; it was a bad wine, but I didn't really care. Meanwhile, the waiter was taking of the dishes like an uncontrolled robot, making me take my glass, still having some wine in, in case he took it out of me. Well, the film could still arrange the night (thanks, Woody).

I will definetly come back, but next time I'll go to the old one, although I will have to be squeezed among many other people close to the bar. Maybe I expected too much from this.