El coche/The car

We picked up the car this morning — a Citroen 4, 1.4L injection, automatic. Josh calls it a “fake automatic,” I think it drives like a glorified go-cart. We were excited to pick up the car and get out of Barcelona, which Josh now understands how it’s my least favorite city in Spain.

I got us out of Barcelona, and traffic wasn’t too bad. I had a little too much fun changing lanes and driving in traffic circles. Cars and trucks would stop in the right lane to unload things, so lane changes were many.

Converting the litre/kilos reading, the car has been getting about 38 miles per gallon. We probably won’t have to fill up until after the Picos. Gas is about $3.25 a gallon here, and luckily the car takes the cheapest diesel.

More photos of the car to come…

Vino y tapas/Wine and snacks

Dinner was a classier affair than originally planned, with stops at three wine bars/restaurants in Barcelona’s La Ribera neighborhood.

At stop No. 1 we had cava, which can only be called cava if it comes from Catalonia. We nibbled on tomate con berejena seca y alcachofa en aceite de oliva — a plate of sundried tomatoes, eggplant and artichokes swimming in a cup of olive oil. It was fantastic. Josh gave it a 4.5 out of 5, saying, “I would have like more.”
“It was just a tapa,” I said.
“I know that, but it was soooo good.”

Wine bar No. 2: I had a white from the Rueda region, Josh a tempranillo blend from the Rioja region. Spain marks its wine by the region in which it was produced. These labels can hurt better wineries with lower-end bodegas for neighbors. Mine was okay, tasted like a light pinot grigio. Josh’s like a decent pinot noir.

Wine bar No. 3: Josh wanted to change it up so he ordered a white from the Navarra region, very oaky, but “better than Yellowtail.” I had a copa of the txacoli, which is a white specialty of the region poured at an arm’s length from the glass. I wanted to know how to pronounce it, so I asked the waiter. (Chakoli) He joked that my pronunciation gave me away as American. I told him I liked Madrid better than Barcelona. He said he liked Mexico better than the U.S. I asked why Mexico with its swine flu. And he pointed out that the swine flu is in Spain, too.

We ate estofado de alcachofas con pulpo (a stew of mushrooms, artichokes and octopus) and tako de bacalao cremat de calcot y romesco (fried white fish with two sauces.) Excellent, nontraditional tapas.

La playa/The beach

After lunch we walked down to the beach and Olympic village (from the 1992 summer games). We both forgot to pack beach towels so we stopped at a souvenir shop on the way. Before the salesman would sell us the towels, he had a question: why the beach?

Because the sun is shining. Because we don’t have beach or water where we’re from. Because we haven’t seen sun like this since last summer, thanks to work and classes.

He disagreed with our answer but sold us the towels anyway.

Menú del día/Prix fixe menu/Specials 3 p.m.

Spanish restaurants, like those Italy and England, usually offer a fixed menu at a reasonable price. In Spain, the menú del día is offered at lunch time (2 to 4 p.m.) and includes an appetizer, main course, dessert, wine and bread.

We had our first menú today at Les Quinze Nits, sitting outside among the pigeons in Plaza Reial. The menu was in English and Catalán, the official Spanish dialect of this region of Spain. I ordered in half Catalán (reading the menu), half Spanish (when I couldn’t pronounce the Catalán.) Josh tried to read the Catalán, but the menus weren’t matched up so he ordered the chuletas de cerdo — pork chops with fries — instead of the turkey.

I heard him order the pork but didn’t say anything because I thought he changed his mind. The plate came and he was surprised. After the initial disappointment/frustration wore off, we dug in. (The fries beat Harpo’s only because they were fried in olive oil.) I remembered how I used to order the wrong thing all the time during my first month in Madrid. I will always remember that albondigas means meatballs.

Time to hit the beach!

We ordered different things so we could try as many as possible:
Josh:  1) tallarines con pesto (pasta with pesto)
2) chuleta de cerdo con papas fritas (pork chops with French fries)
3) torta de trufle chocolate (chocolate mousse cake)
Jackie: 1) verduras asados (roasted seasonal vegetables)
2) atún en salsa de tomate (tuna with tomato sauce)
3) yoghurt con miel (fresh yogurt with honey and walnuts)

Foto del día: May 20

In the Park Güell, Barcelona.

Crítica/Review: Wine

2008 Rioja from Bodegas Antaño

Smell
Jackie: I smell cherries.
Josh: Sure.

Taste
Josh: A little spice at the front of my tongue.

Texture
Jackie: Silky, with a little bite, crisp when you inhale after a sip

Verdict
Josh: 3.5/5 copas It was pretty solid.
Jackie: 3.0/5 copas. This is something I could easily drink every day.

Primer plato/First dish

Dinner = wine and tapas. We ordered the only bottle of red wine on the menu. Josh looked at the bottle that said RIOJA in large letters (and in small ones three other places on the bottle) and asked me where it came from. “I’m so tired I thought Rioja meant red.” He’s still excited for the wine, even if he doesn’t know much about it.

Pan con tomate

Being in Barcelona, we wanted to  order specialties from the Catalán region of Spain. We ended up with one: pan con tomate.
Pan con tomate — olive oil and fresh tomato spread on toasted thick bread
Boquerones — uncured white anchovies in olive oil, vinegar and garlic with olives
Piminetos del padrón — small green peppers (like jalapeños)  roasted with a little garlic

Boquerones

Josh’s favorite were the boquerones. “All people should eat this way.” It wasn’t bad — about $25 for everything, which included an entire bottle of decent wine (see next post).

I also loved the baccalao, but that’s because I love salt and it doesn’t get any better than small salted fish floating in garlicy oil.

Foto del día: May 19

Barcelona, near La Rambla, a long street of shops, street performers and bars.

Llegada/Arrival

Our bags were the first off the plane and we took the bus to Placa Cataluyna at the northern end of La Rambla, a wide pedestrian mall dividing two of the city’s oldest neighborhoods. We’re staying at a hostel/hotel in the El Raval neighborhood. It’s cheap, but it followed our three criteria: 1) close to the center, 2) free Internet access and 3) free parking (for later in the trip.)

It isn’t much — two twin beds, shared bathroom — but it’s well kept.

We exchanged some U.S. dollars to pay for the hotel. What a let down. The dollar is weak and the exchange bureau took a nice cut. We cut our losses and bought a chocolate meringue from a pastry shop and wandered the Barri Gótic, taking in the gothic architecture.

Breaking now before dinner, which is eaten very late in Spain (often around 9 or 10 p.m.)