'Nieuw Amsterdam', here I come

Tomorrow night redeye to JFK, followed by the Lucie Awards Monday night, and a string of planned dinners including Le Bernardin, Gascogne, Flor de Sol, and Domenico's.

It's gonna be a blogtastic week.

Breakfast of Champions

Mmmm... Bacon, egg (basically done like an omelette, only slightly mixed so there's still separation of yolk and white), and thick bread. Some HP sauce would have been perfect… too bad I didn't look in the fridge until after I'd scarfed it down.

Culinary Center of Monterey

A circle of chefs, ready to slap us silly

Last week I was with a group invited to attend a 'class' at the Culinary Center of Monterey. We had a fantastic time and learned a thing or two along the way. The agenda of the day was to basically cook our own lunch and eat our own mistakes victories. The menu was varied, from French Onion Soup and Tarte Aux Epinards to Boeuf Bourguinonne and Roasted Cornish Hens. I was assigned to the Roasted Beet Salad, the only item on the menu with no recipe. The chef insisted… "oh I don't know, do whatever you like!". Alrighty then.

Beets ready for the roastin'

Assistant chef Claire, poking my beets

The beet salad was a hit among all, even those who normally don't like beets. We washed, peeled, chopped and roasted a shedload of beets, candied almonds and made up a garlic/balsamic/red wine vinegar/honey vinaigrette dressing to go over it all, and it was gorgeous!

Roasted Beet Salad! Imagine red and green…

There was also a fantastically easy recipe for a Fresh Fruit Tart Tatin which I made at home last night… mmmm! Unfortunately it was devoured before I could get the camera on it… sorry. But it's so simple to make; just melt some butter, cinnamon and brown sugar in a pan, drop in some fruit (apples, berries, whatever), and top with a puff pastry sheet cut to fit the pan, drop into a 375ºF oven for 25 minutes… then invert onto a serving tray and serve. Delicious. That was your birthday dessert Alenka, so sorry you weren't here to enjoy it :(

Last day in Madrid

OK I never got back to posting about the final day in Spain, so here's a litany of photos and scattered comments to fill the 'missing day'. I spent my last day in Madrid wandering the streets, visiting El Museo del Prado, picnicing in the park, and enjoying the Spanish sun.

Fantastically colorful posters outside of El Prado

And some pretty paintings

I had to buy some local art from the artist

Ah, a picnic in the the Parque del Retiro

And a walk by the royal lake, Estanque del Retiro

EuroBasket07; European Basketball. Wait, Where's Slovenia??

Sushi & Pasta… are you f'ing kidding me???

Free hugs for all!

Salad with tuna, roasted red peppers and olives

I'll, erm, let you translate that one. A Mexican bar in the middle of Madrid. Love it!

Royal buildings, royal food

Cafe con leche. Zumo de naranja. Cereal.

I extracted the badly mangled, waterlogged, photocopied map from my back pocket and looked for something in the area to walk or metro to. The Palacio Real (Royal Palace) was not too far away, and seemed a good place to spend my morning. The metro was an exchange away, or I could walk to the another station La Latina for a direct line, which really was completely unnecessary as it was only one stop from there, but since I'd paid for the 5-day tourist metro pass, I felt I should give it a go at least once or twice!

The Opera station lets out in front of the Royal concert hall, which oddly enough completely obscures the palace. It isn't until you walk around the other side of this building that the magnificent structure emerges.

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As I wandered past the empty cafes facing the grand structure, I approached the fountain that sits front and center to the palace. At least three tourist groups surrounded it, but what caught my eye (or rather, ear) was the guitarist playing Spanish flamenco music sitting in the small courtyard surrounding the fountain. I found a shady spot, within ear of the guitarist, and sat to write.

Palacio Real de Madrid

Mmm, Roman soldier (?) for lunch!

Laying about for 250 years

Right, don't piss off Fernando 1!

Yep, me

Once the grumbles in my belly overpowered the strums of Spanish guitar, I made my way from the Palace to find something to eat. As I wandered away from this regal venue, playing Frogger with Spanish traffic, I spotted a little tapas bar with promise, called La Mi Venta. As I ducked my head in, my heart lept… this was finally the type of place I'd been looking for! Large drying legs of Jamón Ibérico hanging from the ceiling, a small asador in the corner, and a few grumpy old Spanish men running the place. Perfect!

Hanging Jamón Ibérico

Gorgeous food counters

The food here did not disappoint. The food counter illuminated a trip down memory lane, with tortilla, boquerones, caracoles, and even… yes there they were… pimientos de padrón! [link - because they are so good yet so few people outside of Spain know them]

Boquerones en vinagre

Jamón Ibérico

Pimientos de Padrón

This place was so good, I vowed to return.

La Mi Venta
Plaza de la Marina Española, 7
28013 Madrid
+34 91 559-50-91


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rating: 5 feet
verdict: superbly authentic and delicious. Maybe a little pricey, but what the hell… you're on vacation!

After this belly filling lunch, I wandered many of the smaller streets rising above the palace until I stumbled back into Puerta del Sol. The streets of Madrid are a veritable maze, but I was finding that I knew my way around quite quickly. Perhaps the Spanish street names were proving easier to remember as they tickled a part of my brain barely used for nearly 25 years, or maybe I was simply so enthralled with Madrid that committing it to memory was to be expected, but I found that I could very quickly find anywhere I'd been on the map, or find my way back to the hostel from any random street I found myself on. Simply put, the meanderings of the day always comfortably led me back to Calle de la Cabeza.

The last two days...

It´s been an amazing last two days and there is so much to write, I haven´t found (or more accurately, haven´t been willing to sacrifice) the time to write. I board my long fight(s) home in a few hours, and will endeavour to write there.

Arbitrary restaurant rating system explained

I've been playing with the format a bit and I think I've settled on something. Yes, I make this up as I go along, and yes I might change it… but here's a basic guide.

5 feet : Sell your own children if you have to, to get there. It's that good. Reserved for the best of the best.

4 feet : Great food and atmosphere, would definitely go again.

3 feet : Acceptable food, really just somehow slightly better than "good enough" but intriguing enough that I might go again.

2 feet : Good enough; if you're invited or can't find anything better, go ahead. But don't go out of your way.

1 foot : Really not worth walking to; I'll never go again.

0 feet : Horrible disgusting place I wouldn't take my enemies to.

To find all restaurant reviews, click on the "restaurant review" link under Blog Labels in the sidebar. Similarly you can find all of a particular rating the same way.

Finally I'll include as much information as I can about the place so you can find it, including where feasible, a map link.

Name
Address
Tel
URL
map

rating: 0–5 feet
verdict: my summarized opinion of the place

PS - Why feet? Because I like to walk, and I especially like restaurants I can walk to.

Restaurante Madrid I Catedral

Recalling last nights misadventure of finding no real Spanish food aside from occasional tapas, I asked the couple at the front desk where one could go for chuletas. They seemed genuinely surprised at such a specific request, and had a very hard time coming up with anything of the sort in the area! Finally one of them recalled passing a traditional looking Spanish eatery on his way home every night, and struggled to draw on a map where he thought it was. I diligently followed and fortunately his memory served correct; I found a very traditional-looking restaurant called Restaurante Madrid I Catedral.

The non-smoking side of the restaurant was packed; the smoking side nearly empty. A sure sign that even at 9:30 at night, only the tourists were out eating. As there were no seats left in the tourist-zone, I sat in a near empty dining room that, within 20 minutes, was completely packed. Apparently I timed it just right.


The menu was another three-course fare, with a varied selection of starters and mains to choose from, then desert or coffee to round it off. And here, as I laid eyes upon the menu, did I smile from ear to ear upon seeing gambas y angulas in garlic. Gambas are shrimp, and angulas are baby eels. Yes, that's right, baby eels. And they are simply gorgeous to eat. These were cooked very well, although a few of the shrimp were a bit dry.


Second course was what I'd been waiting so long for, chuletas. These were a bit less meaty than the really good ones, and while the flavor was superb there was a little bit of disappointment in eating them as they weren't quite as special as memory served. Also the vegetables were tasty but overcooked. Anthony Bourdain, my culinary hero, said in one of his books a line about vegetarians that I think applies quite well to the Spanish as well… "they can't cook a fucking vegetable to save their lives" (probably badly misquoted, but there you have it). The Spanish do amazing things with meat; vegetables are often for decoration.



Anyway these chuletas were good enough to satisfy my hunger, and naturally washing it all down with a half-bottle of a young Rioja always helps the experience. A café con leche and half bottle of water added to the tally came to an impressive €21… really quite a bargain for what I had.

I left happy.

Restaurante Madrid-I-Catedral
Carrera de San Jerónimo, 16
28014 Madrid - Madrid


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rating: 3 feet
verdict: worth going until I find something better in the area

The Street Walker

Yesterday was essentially a perfect day. I spent time wandering the streets aimlessly, looking for cafés to stop at, people to watch, and street music to listen to.

Metro stop La Latina: oh so that's how I'm getting home!

The morning found me wandering the area around my Hostel, eventually stumbling into a Latin district, where I found somewhere to park it for a while. I spent most of the morning enjoying café con leche and torta de manzana in a cute, edgy-modern cafe, writing and sorting photos. From there, as I finally hungered for something a bit more substantial, I moved on and ended at Plaza Tirozo de Molina which was packed with the afternoon lunch crowd. After waiting endlessly for a table to free up, I asked a beautiful Spanish girl with a similarly shaved head if I could join her and her puppy Lúlu. To my pleasure she said yes, and while I waited for my food and she finished her drink, we chatted about where the best bars and cafés were in the area. It's funny, I think my Spanish is good enough where people think I'm from here, but just bad enough where they think I'm a bit dim. When we get to the part of the conversation where I tell them I'm from California, they are always surprised and I think a bit relieved… as if now they know they're not talking to someone who barely graduated the 4th grade.

This lunch spot was typical Spanish, which was just what I'd been looking for. A three-course lunch had me slurping gazpacho for a starter (good), eating a roasted veal with rice and veggies for the main (mediocre), and taking a rocket ship back to my childhood for the cuajada desert (superb). It's a simple custard-like cream, almost like a plain yogurt I suppose, topped with honey. Fabulous. All washed down with a beer, and I was ready for a Spanish siesta! (Unfortunately I failed to note the name of this place, but it wasn't all that thrilling so you're not missing much… and this dessert can be found all over the place).

Gazpacho, and Cuajada

From there I made my way back to the hostel where I could get online and post yesterdays blog entries. I seriously contemplated taking a nap, but somehow the hours wore on and before I knew it it was time for another wander. Apparently my timing was just right, as I walked back outside to slippery streets, the smell of fresh rain and a clearing sky. I walked back up to the plaza and climbed aboard the Tirso Molina metro to go one stop to Sol.

Puerta del Sol

This is a major shopping area, sure to be full of people, and it did not disappoint. Dozens, if not hundreds of shops line the surrounding streets, and I walked up and down most of them window shopping and admiring the ebb and flow of beautiful Spanish women. I eventually stumbled upon Plaza Jacinto Benavente and a glorious Maestro Currero (Master churro maker), founded in 1902. Just what the doctor ordered (I have a kind and understanding doctor, you have to understand!). An order of churros and a cup of hot chocolate was placed before me, and if you've never enjoyed this little treat, you're truly missing one of the great culinary wonders of the world. The chocolate is less a cup of hot cocoa and more a cup of melted chocolate bar. It's so thick and so high-fat that by the time it reaches your table a thick skin has developed over the top. The first churro you dip breaks the skin, and as you twirl the crusty pastry, the skin wraps around it like a warm chocolate blanket, the heady scent of deep dark cocoa hits your nose, and you realize, right then, that heaven awaits. One can only eat a couple of these before a mind-numbing satiation sets in, your eyes glaze over, and you start to wonder if you ask nicely, if someone will just carry you home.

Churros and Chocolate… love at first bite

Once I found the courage to stand again, I kept making my way back to the hostel to prepare for the next adventure of the day. I dropped back into the hostel's lounge and picked up a book for a while, chatting occasionally with other travelers as they passed through. Finally sensing a growing rumble in the belly, I decided to make my way back out for dinner.

Maestro Churrero
Plaza Jacinto Benavente, 2
28012 Madrid
+34 91 369-24-06
http://www.maestrochurrero.com


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rating: 5 feet
verdict: bring a stretcher

It may not be pretty, but...

One of the challenges in traveling internationally with an iPhone is
of course avoiding the horrendous roaming charges being reported all
over the internets. Which means you really have to behave yourself and
only email photos when in a wifi hotspot. And I just found my first
metro-free wifi in Madrid, so dammit I'm posting. Really there's
nothing here to look at, but you're getting it anyway ;)