When in a foreign country, I tend to overextend myself right away.  My first full week in Madrid was no exception. I already pulled all sorts of ligaments in my knee jumping around the metro stairs.   It’s a good thing that the Spanish equivalent of “icy hot” is super strong….I simply didn’t notice the pain and continued my explorations.

I have found a few places where I would be glad to be known as a regular.

First, at Juan a la Loca, a restaurant in La Latina, I found the gourmet tapas I’ve been looking for.  It was also my first encounter with baby eels. Gross? Not at all. The highlights of this cena de cinco tapas (a five tapa dinner) include:  a spinach crepe wrapped around tender baby eels, thinly sliced asparagus, crispy garlic and chilies in a slightly creamy sauce mounted like a horn of plenty on toasted bread and a forkable piece of baby sirloin steak with a fried quail egg,–tender and velvety — on the same olive oil toast.

Second, I love Los Cuevas del Sesamo, its magical cavernous basement and communal jars of strong sangria.  I’m on a search for the best sangria and I’m very picky.  I don’t like anything too sweet, I want to taste some heat from the red wine and cointreau, but I want to the fruit to cut across my palate leaving my tongue feeling light and refreshed and a bit sassy.  So far this extra smoky, always-packed basement lounge is in the lead.

Third, Lavinia wine store, which boasts over 4000 bottles of every variety, tinto, blanco, rosado y más, is excellent.  I went in search of the best red wine I have ever tasted. A few years back, my father bought a case or so of a Spanish wine called Clio, from 2004.  The first time I tasted it, I knew it was good, but over the summer, we opened the final bottle from the well-enjoyed stash.  It is without a doubt the finest red wine to cross my lips. Well, you can’t get Clio in the States, I’ve found it online shipping for something like $75, but in no wine or liquor store.  It’s just so tasty, that it’s gone.  Well not in Spain.  The 2006 year is currently going for 32 €.  Though I couldn’t afford, nor I carry it at the time, I sat in the small bar and asked for a good cheap red.  I felt I deserved it after 2 hours of walking. The friendly bartender  brought out three varieties, including a white that she thought I might like because of my taste in reds (! Wow !).  I ended up indulging in a glass of  AALTO, 2005 Ribera Del Duero.  And she brought me Spanish almonds.  I was in a heaven.

Judging by the amount I had to write about the wine, clearly that is a lasting memory.  I’m going back as soon as I can.

Check back shortly for more information about the wines of Spain.  I can’t wait to dig in.

Until next time, hasta luego.

The chestnut.  I’ve eaten one in the US. Chestnut soup yes, chestnut in pastry, of course.  But this is the second time I’ve had them in Europe.  I wanted to give the castaña another shot.  But alas, they are just as strange as the first time.

They are sweet, and nutty at the same time, but the sweetness confuses my brain.  I don’t like hoisin sauce for the same reason.  The textures is strange, when it is hot, like a mealy apple, the nut is mushy and a little grainy.  I think if it cooled, it might crisp. Bare in mind, this is but one person talking, and I happened to love the flavor when combined with others, so I’m not sealing the fate of the chestnut industry or anything.

The best part is the little stand where I bought them.  Two little doors open in a large box like structure and reveal a large cylindrical roaster.  For two euro the gentlemen with large, well-worn hands will toss a big scoop of nuts into the heat, stir them till the shells crack, and deposit them in a paper cone. And the smell is wonderful; the sweet aroma carries far down the street, calling to everyone within noseshot.

It should be noted that they are pretty good for you.  A little history and nutrition: if you are watching your fat intake but love nuts, this is a gem.  In ten nuts (that’s a lot) there is less than 3 grams of fat, mostly unsaturated.  It also has a bit of vitamin C, a good thing, because it seems that the changing Spanish season is giving everyone a cold.

Just a little fun fact: The castaña originally came from Asia Minor and was consumed in mass proportions by the early Roman and Greek armies, who planted the trees as they pillaged the countryside.

I would like some bread and olive oil please, but I’ll take it in the form of ice cream.  I went to a old fashioned ice cream parlor the other day, but I went specifically for the very modern take of flavorings.  This sweet spot is called Bruin.  It sits right next to Parque del Oeste, a great place to take a walk in the light of the setting sun as you lick your cone.

I really want to try their cheese flavored ice cream (traditional Spanish idiazabal) but, seeing as it’s February and not ice cream season the selection was more limited. I had to settle for olive oil and blueberry. I am certainly going to return for the Sorbet de Cerveza.  Beer sorbet? I think yes.

The olive oil was very smooth as I expected, flavorful but not overwhelming.  It  went perfectly with the blueberry—the icy acid of one cut the richness of the other. Oh, and the cone was perfect.

I brought my friend Scottie along, he enjoyed the treat as well. But he’s holding out for tomato and tamarind.