Tapas, Tapas Everywhere

Granada has three significant historical districts, explained my host when I arrived Friday afternoon, that form a bit of an L-shape around the Alhambra. Our apartment was in Realejo, the Jewish quarter. To the northwest was Albaicin, the Muslim neighborhood, and connecting the two like a joint was el Centro, the Catholic area, which today is just a shopping district crowded around the cathedral that contains the tombs of some Spanish monarchs - among them Ferdinand and Isabel.  

My host got quite excited when describing the commune of Sacromonte, a sort of extension of Albaicin, because that's where the gypsies took refuge after being driven out of the city proper. Actually, I'm not entirely sure that he was talking about gypsies on account of his thick Italian accent. The word he used sounded like it could be "hippies," except that the way he enunciated the first syllable made me imagine it began with the letter "g." Anyways, they - whoever these people were - carved caves into the mountain and invented flamenco music.

The following morning I set out to explore Sacromonte and Albaicin, which my host had deemed to have priority over the other neighborhoods. From his enthusiasm and wild gesticulations in relating the history of Sacromonte, I was expecting to see something bizarre and exotic, maybe like that TV show "Swamp People" except on land. Instead, I couldn't help but feel a bit let down when I found a little hilltop community that looked like it could have been transplanted from Greece - whitewashed walls, blue trim, cobblestone terraces. Pretty, but nothing like the savage cave-dwellers I had in mind.

Sacromonte up close.

Albaicin, however, did not disappoint. Imagine the impossible maze that Ellen Page's character draws in Inception, plopped on a steep hill and with ancient and unevenly cobbled "streets" (some are barely wide enough for a car to pass) that alternately make you trip and slip.  Each time I attempted to navigate using the map on my iPhone, it was as though Google was placing my blue dot at random, constantly jumping around even when I myself hadn't moved an inch. The fun was in discovering all the hidden shops, restaurants, and scenic view points - as long as I could see the Alhambra, I vaguely knew which way I was going.

Now, any account of Granada would be remiss in not mentioning the food, because legend has it that it's where tapas came from. But what are tapas? For the longest time I thought it was something fancy and exclusive, because of the swanky tapas bar that I often drove past at home to get downtown. Turns out the origins are much more modest.

At Bodegas Castañeda (not to be confused with Antigua Castañeda, which I read isn't as good).

Way back in the day bars gave out slices of bread to cover your beer and prevent fleas from landing in it. So, now, tapa is just a general term for a small plate of food to be consumed with a drink - like an aperitif. Granada is one of the few - possibly only - places where tapas are still given out for free with your beverage. Generally you'll pay, say 1-2€ for a beer, and shortly after the waiter will come out with the food.

But although they're free, not all tapas are equal. At best I've received a decent portion of paella; at worst a sandwich featuring an unidentifiable cut of meat whose pink coloring rubbed off on the bread in a most unappetizing manner. My advice: steer clear of any place advertising FREE TAPAS as they're more inclined to offer sub-par fare to tourists.

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3 places to go for tapas: 

- Bar los diamantes, Plaza Nueva, 13. They specialize in sea food so expect a plate of calamari, clams, or something similar. 

- Bodegas Castañeda, Calle de Almireceros, 1. Traditional bar with excellent service - this is where you can get paella. 

- Plaza Campo del Principe. One side of the plaza is lined with restaurants featuring nearly identical menus. The food isn't amazing but it's a nice atmosphere to sit and snack while you wait for dinnertime to roll around. (Spaniards tend to eat late - even by European standards - so except for touristy restaurants, kitchens won't be fully up and running until 8:30pm or possibly later). 

Wining in the South of Spain

Everything in Córdoba's histocal center is within easy walking distance, meaning that: a) it's pretty much impossible to get truly lost, but that b) you can cover all the points of interest in a day - maybe a day and a half if you do as the locals do and partake in the afternoon siesta. Faced with the prospect of spending my last full day tromping around the same old streets, lovely as they are, I decided I'd be better off heading somewhere else. My hostel highlighted several possible daytrips, but naturally I chose the one labeled "wine tasting."

Nearby Montilla, just an hour's bus ride away, is the sort of place that a Google search does not yield satisfactory step-by-step instructions of how to get there and lengthy discussions of what to do once you've arrived; where even while walking on one of the main streets, in breaks between buildings you catch glimpses of rolling hills of vineyards that supply all the wineries (or bodegas, as they're called here); where when you enter said bodega, the lady in the tienda will ask you if you speak English, shortly followed by, "Sorry, tours are only in Spanish." (I think it goes without saying that, additionally, in this sort of setting you can wander about as you please feeling reasonably sure that you are the only colored person within city limits. I did meet a friendly South African couple during the tasting, but they were white). 

With seven years' worth of Spanish buried beneath French, tucked away in the crevices of my brain alongside trig and mitosis and all those other things you learn in school but almost never use in real life, I wasn't too worried about the tour not being in English. Not so much because they taught us about wine in AP Spanish, but, I mean, once you've toured one winery you've pretty much toured them all. The process remains essentially the same and the only thing that's different is the tasting. Or so I thought when I purchased my ticket at the Bodega Alvear.

But, as it turned out, they do things a little differently in the south of Spain. Whereas at most of the other wineries I've been to - in Napa Valley, Portugal and France - wines are differentiated by the type of grape they contain. Here? They can make 5 wildly different wines using just one: the white Pedro Ximénez variety. I don't know how this feat is accomplished; it was all in Spanish.

If you go: Pick your bodega wisely, as by the time you finish the tour and tasting, everything shuts down for the siesta and, unlike most other businesses, the bodegas won't reopen later. Maybe this is just a summer thing because July is low season; I'm not sure because Google wouldn't tell me. 

Where to Eat (and Drink) in Barcelona

Apologies for the uninspired, SEO-optimized title. But since Barcelona is, gastronomically speaking, much more interesting than anywhere I visited in Portugal, I just had to keep track of all the places I went to and had yummy things. Because after all, what's a chef to do in a new city other than eat? 

The following was curated from personal recommendations from friends as well as a few websites that I follow and trust.  Got any to add? Let me know! 

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1. Romesco. Carrer de Sant Pau, 28. (It's actually around the corner from #28 on a tiny side street that's unnamed on Google Maps).

Hidden away from all the touristy tapas restaurants that line La Rambla, this is pretty much a tiny Spanish diner that serves hearty, simple meals for under 10€.

2. Hotel 1898. La Rambla, 109.

Rooftop bars are notoriously exclusive, but if you stride through the lobby with confidence and ride the elevator (hint: the lift on the far right is the only one that goes to the roof) up to the 7th floor, you will be rewarded with a lovely view and comfy couches and fleece blankets on the swanky terrace. 

3. LUKUMAS. Carrer del Torrent de l'Olla, 169. 

What's this? A donut shop? Try the dulce de leche and you'll understand why it made my list. Lukumas is relatively close to Parc Güell, which is to say a bit far from the city center, but if you're heading up north why not kill two birds with one stone... 

4. EspaiSucre. Carrer de la Princesa, 53. 

I could probably dedicate an entire post to this dessert-only restaurant that doubles as a culinary school but I'll try to keep it short. Food-wise you can select from a variety of tasting menus or be lame and just eat sweet tapas. I went for tasting menu 1. And it was easily one of the best dining experiences I've ever had. Reserve a table ahead online because the dining room isn't very large.

5. Bubó. Carrer Caputxes, 6. 

A pâtisserie to rival those in Paris. I went around breakfast time and had the gianduja croissant (filled with chocolate hazelnut and topped with caramelized nuts), but my chef friends tell me their chocolates and cakes are also good. 

6. Casa Delfin. Passeig del Born, 36. 

I couldn't leave Barcelona without trying some tapas, but since this is the only place I tried I don't have anything to compare it to. No complaints about the food though! 

7. La Taqueria. Passeig Font, 5.  (Not pictured, because it was rather dark inside).

I never found any decent Mexican food in Paris (I swear  it's impossible to get anything spicy in that city), so I was quite pleased when I found this little hole-in-the-wall. Portions are a bit small for the price, but the quality and flavor make up for it. Located just a stone's throw from the Sagrada Familia, you can do as I did and reward yourself with chicken tacos after braving the crowds at the church. 

Drinking in the Douro Valley

"Now this is a game changer," I proclaimed the first time I tried port wine. 

My viticulture instructor just laughed, knowing that I - like the rest of the class - was naive, newly 21 and looking to get drunk with terrifying efficiency. 

As he described the merits and history of port, everyone perked up at the mention of its higher alcohol content (20%, thanks to the added brandy) and sweeter taste relative to normal red wines. It was delicious - dangerously smooth but also saccharine enough to make it difficult to down more than one glass at a time. 

When I arrived at my hostel in Porto, the first thing I did was book an all-day wine tour for the following day. I'm generally not the biggest advocate for guided tours, but as we drove through the narrow, winding roads that criss-crossed the steep, terraced hills bordering the wine-producing Douro Valley, I was glad I had signed up. I wouldn't fancy making the drive by myself, let alone after a few drinks. Not to mention that during the ride our guide, a wry late twenty-something local, gave us her insight on current events ranging from the protests in Brazil to the current economic state and how it affects her generation.   

The first stop was Caves da Reposeira, producer of sparkling wines similar to champagne. We only tried the dry variety so nothing particularly stood out about the place. Next was Quinta do Tedo, a small operation (they still crush the grapes by foot) owned by a French family that recently turned organic, that produces table wines, olive oil and, of course, port wines in all varieties (pink, tawny, ruby, vintage). Nestled in the hills just between the Douro River and the 41-acre lot that yields all their grapes and olives, it was a dream. (Also they let us sample each type of wine and port; most wineries tend to be stingy with the tastings). I loved the rosé port wine, but unfortunately they don't currently ship to the US.

Following a brief lunch break, we made our last stop at Aveleda. Technically located outside the valley, closer to Porto, this family-owned winry also serves as part museum and part farm, dating back to the 18th century. We finished our tour of the grounds - a welcome change from musty old cellars - with wine and cheese overlooking the vineyard. A place that only does whites and rosés?  That's my kind of winery.

Quinta do Tedo

Where they crush grapes.

Quinta do Tedo

Back of the winery.

Quinta do Tedo

The tasting.

Douro River

From a viewpoint. Bought some awesome cherries from an old woman who had set up shop there.

Aveleda

Restored kitchen from back in the day.

Aveleda

The family estate.

Aveleda

There were a couple others wandering the grounds.

Aveleda

Wine and cheese. (The cheese is also produced and sold on site).

Aveleda

Vineyard.

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View more photos on Flickr. 

Celebrating 22 at the Mojito Lab, Paris

On Saturday I turned 22, and for the second time in a row celebrated my birthday away from home. Last year I was at the Toronto International Film Festival, so I went out for drinks with some newfound film buddies. This year, I went out with my French roommate and some friends from LCB.  

The main event of the evening was a visit to the sleek Mojito Lab in the Bastille neighborhood. As the name suggests, the bar exclusively serves mojitos (20 variations on the menu, I believe), grows their own mint, etc. But we weren't there just to drink - for €35/person, the Mojito Lab offers mixology classes for small groups. So after a harrowing taxi ride from the 15th (during which our driver nearly hit and subsequently swore at every cyclist we passed), the four of us descended to the basement 'lab' below the normal lounge and bar area.

So for the next couple hours our bartender and instructor for the evening, Florian, taught us how to make classic mojitos, a virgin passionfruit variation, and a syrupy raspberry-based version. Having gotten my bartender certification last summer, I already knew the basics of free pouring and what not, but it was a treat to play with the lab's fancy barware and ingredients - particularly the wide variety of pre-made fruit syrups that I haven't seen stateside.

And because it was my birthday, Florian concocted this lovely strawberry basil mojito and some shooters. A good start to a great night.

One of the other bartenders stopped by to give us a juggling demonstration. Video below.

bartender at the Mojito Lab in Paris shows off his skills. all goes well until the end. unfortunately i didn't catch it from the beginning, but you get the idea...

 

Classy Cocktails at Ruby, Copenhagen

"Classic drinking, forward thinking."

Thus reads the inside of the leather-bound cocktail menu at Copenhagen's hidden gem Ruby. Behind an unmarked door just opposite the canal from the Thorvaldson Museum sits this unassuming but elegant bar. In fact, if it weren't for the bottles lining the far wall of the front room, one could easily be tricked into thinking she accidentally stumbled into some emeritus professor's flat. Leather chairs and velvet footstools are artfully arranged in secluded enclaves, lit by flickering candles and antique light fixtures. Vintage liquor posters, photos and trophies accentuate the khaki and tan striped wallpaper while jazz classics from the likes of Billie Holiday and Duke Ellington play softly in the background. Not to mention the attentive servers who, clad in suspenders and horn-rimmed glasses, strongly bring to mind that one cute film studies TA... Aside from a handful of classics-with-a-twist, much of the menu is seasonal. My Berry Club Fizz of strawberries, Hennessy, absinthe, and soda with a touch of citrus was like a tangy lemonade - a refreshing end to a hot day. After a full afternoon of sightseeing neither of us was feeling up to braving blaring music or overcrowded dance floors. (Also it was Sunday, so probably not the ideal going out night anyway). Ruby was the perfect alternative because, thanks to its strong but well-crafted drinks and intellectual ambience, it's highly conducive for sinking back and having a good conversation.

Fun Facts About Champagne That I Learned While Visiting Champagne

The day between final exams and graduation we took a day trip to the Champagne-Ardenne region to visit G.H. Mumm in Reims and Moët & Chandon in Épernay for tours and tastings. Unfortunately both tours presented pretty much identical information, but here’s a recap of interesting things I learned.

1. Champagne in Champagne is only made from three grape varieties (either alone or together in varying proportions): chardonnay, pinot noir and pinot meunier.

2. After fermentation there are sediments that are ultimately expelled through a long process of gradually turning the bottle until the particles collect in the neck, which is then dipped in a -20 degree solution, freezing it. The bottle is then quickly inverted, and the pressure expels the sediment-containing ice cube.

3. There are people whose job it is to turn the bottles by hand for the first part of the process. They can turn up to 50,000 bottles in a single day. I wish I had asked how much these people get paid for this.

4. Standard champagnes are stored in the cellar for a minimum of 2-3 years (maybe it was months…by this point I was too focused on getting to the tasting to pay much attention to the guide) before being sold. Vintages can stay much longer. At Moët & Chandon they had two bottles of ‘69 left, which can be purchased for just over 2000 euros!

5. Tastings in Champagne are much stingier and less efficient than in Napa. We went with an organized tour, but generally you have to call ahead and make appointments at each winery/champagne house. Additionally (though maybe because we were with such a large group) they only give you one glass of one product. Having been tasting in Napa I was expecting 4-5. I mean, how do you know what to buy afterwards unless you’ve tried them all?