It was 4 pm and there was not much going in terms of food at Alcala de Henares, at the university quarter of this industrial town outside Madrid. The intention was to have a snack until the restaurants opened at 8.30 pm. Here, the two tapa dishes (pictured) were tough and tasteless. But the experience was made special by a delightful young female student who translated our order (into Spanish) for the barman.
For me, one of the joys of travelling abroad is to try different kinds of cuisine, especially good, honest home-cooking where the quality and taste of food take precedence over elaborate plate decorations. At Madrid, in a covered market, I spotted a tapas bar that specialised in sea food and slices of bread served with sea food and a generous slug of olive oil. The place was heaving with locals, and in the midst of gesticulating my order (I don't speak Spanish), the barman dished up a chickpea stew and barked at me "Bueno!"
Here it is, the stew, which I believe is called cocido madrileno. It came with a broth that contained vermicelli. The dish was robust, tasty - just the item to sustain anyone on a cold, wet, wintry day.
Our eating experience at Spain was a hit and miss affair. Even the concierges of the grandest of 5* hotels could send their clients to some non descript restaurants that serve vin ordinaire food but with eye watering prices. At the Albaicin quarter, hiding away in the narrow, winding alleys of Granada, just a few twists away from the tourist track, is the San Nichols restaurant, with a grand sweep view of the Alhambra, serving the perfect meal, a reward for those die-hard tourists who eschew cafes that plague most plazas, given to serving what pass as edible food.
