I'm having a pork-hiatus. That is to say, the idea of a third consecutive pork-post is just too much to bear. And since it's a cold, snowy, depressingly English day, I thought I'd perk myself up with a post about Madrid, following a hedonistic, fun- (and food... and drink...) filled sojourn there last October. But never fear- the pork will return for its third and final re-incarnation next week.
|Possibly the only image I possess from Madrid that isn't food or alcohol...|
|The grilled-foie. Guilt-laden, and good|
If Hemmingway truly frequented every bar that lays claim to his name, then it’s little wonder he had such a prolific drink problem. Nevertheless, if the state of the floor is anything to go by (and in Spain it is- the dirtier, the better) then Carvecierci Alemana is tapas gold. A bustling, well-known establishment, this isn’t exactly one of Madrid’s hidden gems, but it’s definitely worth a visit. Pop in for a chilled Tio Pepe, and fill up on the accompanying anchovies, Iberico and olives. Once you’re sated, start heading over to La Latina- (especially if it’s a Sunday, in which case hit the El Rastro flea market en route) then commence the eating, drinking and merry-making. Apparently, even if they do have a job to go to the next morning, sleep is of little concern to true Madrilenos, who party just as hard on a Sunday as any day of the week. At the top of cobbled and winding Costanilla San Andres sits La Gorda, a Peruvian bar and restaurant. This might seem an odd recommendation to make, but it forms part of a subtle change in Madrid’s attitude to food. No longer are all Spaniards staunchly xenophobic in their culinary approach; indeed, many cities (Madrid at the fore) are embracing their changing demographic. The upshot of this? Some bloody fantastic Peruvian resaturants. La Gorda- literally, ‘The Fat Woman,’ had me the moment I spotted shot glasses brimming with Bloody Mary adorning the bar top, which I pounced upon immediately (almost choking on the cockles hidden at the bottom in the process).We had every intention of popping in for a pisco sour and pintxo before moving on… needless to say, four hours, several piscos and a lot of ceviche later, we were still going strong. It’s also probably worth mentioning that the pisco was responsible for the mother-of-all hangovers the following morning- don’t say I didn’t warn you.
|Bitesize Bloody Mary. Notice|
you can't see the cockle...
Of course, I now have every excuse to make a return trip. After all, I can’t really say I’ve seen Madrid- I’ve just eaten it. So I’ll be back. I’ll have to pop into La Gorda, obviously. And check the tapa is still up to scratch in the Plaza Major. I daresay I’ll visit La Latina for some late-night revelry again, too. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll squeeze in the Prado. We’ll see.