Tapa Thursdays: Heladería Llinares and its Wacky Ice Cream Flavors

Outside of Italy, I’d never seen a group of camera-clad tourists so fascinated by a street side ice cream display. In a city known for its rice dishes, avant-garde architecture and brash fireworks display (oh, and being the region from which those crazies the Borgias came from), I never expected to see such fuss over an heladería.

As we got closer on a walk around Plaza de la Reina of Valencia, crowned by the cathedral, I realized why.

Behold:

Yes, those flavors are cream of shellfish, Asturian bean stew, anchovies in vinegar and gazpacho. The girl in line in front of us tried a bit of the fabada stew and spit it out immediately. I dared to try the anchovies (which I normally only eat with picadillo), and it tasted like just that: fishy vinegar.

The girl scooping ice cream behind a high counter turned up her nose at the girl, telling us that all of the flavors were artisan and made in the company’s obrador, just like Dispensa de Palacio in Estepa. Just for good measure, we tried gazpacho and tortilla. They tasted just like the flavors they claimed to be.

But don’t worry, if you’re not adventurous, Heladerías Llinares has all of the normal flavors and a few twists, too. I chose piña colada and mojito, preferring something fresh to something chocolatey. The company operates several ice cream shops, but the most central is located in Plaza de la Reina, 6, and open daily until midnight. A cup or cone with two flavors will cost you just 2,20€ – not much more than you’d pay for an ice cream bar on the beach.

What’s the strangest ice cream flavor you’ve ever eaten?

Eating Coruña: The City’s Best Restaurants

Galician food makes my heart flutter – the piping hot pimientos del padrón, raxo smothered in roquefort sauce, fresh-caught shellfish displayed  in every window of every bar on every street.

There are two reasons I spend my summers in Coruña, crossing my fingers that there will be little rain: one is because it’s way cooler, and the other because the food is incredible.

Even though I spend the majority of time eating in the camp cafeteria, the other teachers and I get the chance to actually go out and get some good food in our bellies. Before I tell you where, you need a primer in typical coruñés fare:

polbo a la feira – boiled octopus served over boiled potatoes with olive oil and paprika

navajas – razor clams that are pan seared and often served with lemon

pimientos del padrón – flash-fried green peppers. As the saying goes, some are spicy, others are not

empanada gallega – a pasty, most often stuffed with tuna or ground beef with peppers and onions

percebes – goose barnacles. I didn’t like them on my first run and now love them!

raxo – marinated pork loin, typically served with potatoes

zorza – spicy ground pork, treated with paprika and marinated in other spices

queso tetilla con membrillo – creamy ‘tit cheese’ served with a quince paste for dessert.

La Bombilla

Javi picked us up from the airport high above Coruña’s city center and promised us a surprise. We elbowed our way up to the counter, toasted to new friendships and chose tapas of off the short menu – tortilla, milanesa and croquetas the size of a baseball. La Bombilla, with its turn-of-the-century-esque bar and cheap thrills (aka tapas for just a euro apiece), is a staple in Coruña and one of my favorites. Locals sidle up to the bar at seemingly all hours of the day, so be sure to arrive early for lunch or dinner, or you’ll be forced to grab a plastic plate and find a place to sit on the ground outside. Calle de la Galera, 7

update: I read the sad news that La Bomilla will be closing on December 30th. Rumor is that it will re-open, but likely without the same encanto. Really bummed I didn’t get one last giant croqueta.

O Renchucho de Mayte

Far and away my favorite in Coruña, this little corner bar is always packed for its cheap, home-cooked food and exceptional service. You can’t miss the raxo con roque or the crispy calamares, and the bar now features takeout, too. I am a sucker for their croquetas and cheese, and the tapas are generous and inexpensive. The bar is closed Sundays. Portico Andrés, s/n

The cafeteria at the Yacht Club with no name

Oftentimes, a menú del día, the Spanish equivalent of a three-course meal, is too much for me to eat. But everytime I’m in Coruña, I’ll skip breakfast in favor of the views of the port and across the bay to Santa Cristina beach from the yacht club. While the food is often billed as generic (think caldo gallego or a mixed salad for firsts), it’s served fresh and in heaping portions. What really makes the meal is the atmosphere, with the sea breeze ruffling your napkin and the sun peeking around the enormous glass building. Located in the Club Náutico on Avda. del Puerto.

Parillada Alcume

After all those rounds of pulpo and empanada, I need meat. When it comes down to it, I am a corn- and beef-fed Midwesterner, so I can’t pass up on a parrillada, or a restaurant where meats are grilled over open coals. I’d passed Alcume loads of times, as it’s just off the shopping district, but it wasn’t until a camp vegetarian suggested its mixed plate of meaty good that we decided to try it.

You know it’s good when even the veggie-lover wants to go. We often have to wait to sit down, particularly at the wooden tables outside, but filling ourselves to the brim with sausages and flank steaks makes it worth it. And it’s a lot easier to identify the parts than it is in the camp cafeteria. Calle Galera, 44-46

Pan de Lino

I heard a rumor that there were bagels in Coruña. I gasped, horrified that there would be a place that sells my favorite breakfast food in a small port city before my beloved Seville.

As it turns out, this was merely a rumor (though I did have a bagel sandwich in Cafetería Vecchio, near the Casino), but Pan de Lino’s inviting bakery counter, beautifully mismatched furniture and organic menu is a nice change from the old man bars I usually frequent. The service is terrible, but as long as you’re accompanied with friends and something delicious, you can let it go. Calle Rosalia de Castro, 7

O Mesón Galego

The cream of Galicia’s crop is, without a doubt, its shellfish. As has become tradition, we take our camp cash to the nearest marisquería for a mariscada, or a seafood smorgasboard. I’m sure there are places that are much better (and thus more expensive!), but we group into three and split a 46€ heap of shellfish with a bottle of crisp albariño wine. The kitchen is open, and you can watch the robust cook hack away at crab legs like it ain’t no thang. I’ve also had their pimientos and empanada and approve. Calle de la Franja, 56.

Asiayu Japanese Restaurant

I thankfully have a few friends in Coruña who are always quick to point out new finds and tear me away from Mayte and Bombilla. When Julie and Forrest discovered an all-you-can-eat sushi buffet next to the beach, half of the teaching staff went down to pig out on something other than carbs. The dinner menuú runs 13,95 plus a drink, and you can choose two hot plates in addition to everything that comes around the belt. The sushi was hand rolled right in front of us, but I was too busy pouting about sitting at the end of the loop and not being able to grab the fried sushi or the dumplings before the greedy hands of the other Ts got them (though this did distract them from my terrible chopstick skills). Calle Buenos Aires, 7 Bajo

There are loads of other places I’ve tried – a hidden Mexican joint with great margaritas, an Indian place with an affordable menú, nondescript holes-in-the-wall whose names I’ve long forgotten. Then there are the places I’d love to try, like Spoom’s creative cuisine. But, somehow, the appeal of one euro tapas, a sushi conveyer belt and the tried and true always win out. But really, I’ll go anywhere I see an upturned octopus in the window.

Have you ever been to La Coruña and have any places to recommend? If you liked this post, you can download an offline version of the article with the GPSMyCity app!

Tapa Thursdays: Pescaíto

One thing that stuck out about my host mother and her eating habits was that she’d fry a fish and just suck the meat right off the bones, leaving the head. Emily and I claimed we were allergic to fish to not have to eat them, vying instead for her awesome tortilla de patatas.

My, how times (and tastes) change!

Just a few Mondays ago, the Feria de Abril’s festivities began with the lighting of the main gate, known as the portada, at midnight. Right before, around 9pm, the owners and members of the makeshift caseta tents gather for a traditional dinner of fried fish, known as the pescaíto. Seville’s isn’t exactly the gastronomical gem of Andalucía (minus its tapas scene), though fried fish, pescado frito, is one of its most typical dishes.

What it is: Battered and fried fish. My favorites are choco (cuttlefish), adobo (brine-soaked dogfish), puntillitas (baby squid) and sardinas (sardines).

Where it comes from: Owing to Spain’s many coasts, fried fish can be found throughout the country. It’s especially popular in Andalucía and considered one of Seville’s most typical dishes.

Goes great with: Beer, and fried onions and peppers, called calamares del campo.

Where to find it: Seville abounds with small shops called freidurias, places where fish are fried, weighed and served up hot in wax paper cones. While those I like best are in my neighborhood, I like Mara in Triana (San Vicente de Paul, 22-24), El Arenal in the barrio of the same name (C/Arfe, 8) and Frieduría Puerta de la Carne near the Jardines de Murillo in Santa Cruz. If you’re in Málaga, El Tintero is a great restaurant experience, and you can pick up sardines cooked over coals, called espetos.

 Have a favorite tapa you’d like to see touted on Sunshine and Siestas? Leave me a comment below, or on my Facebook page!

Tapa Thursdays: Cevapi

Right, this blog is about Spain, and Tapa Thursdays should be about Spanish tapas.

But I can’t get over the spicy sausage sandwiches we ate in the Balkans, called cevapi. It’s street food perfected, easy enough to eat and affordable. Hayley and I easily devoured three or four of these for a quick meal during our week in Croatia and Montenegro, and often as a coplete meal for less than 5€. My favorite was probably the first, snarfed down on a side street in Dubrovnik when we first arrived with a tall boy (dios, the beers in Spain seem so small now!), or the roadside grill we found where we watched the attendant grill it, hardly waiting until we got back to our apartment to sit and eat them. Behold the sammich-as-big-as-your-head:

What it is and where it comes from: Cevapi is a widespread dish in the Balkans and considered a national dish in Bosnia, Serbia and Yugoslavia. Between seven and ten minced meat sausages, typically served in a flatbread with onions, tomato and lettuce, have been eaten since the 14th Century in the region. I found it quite like kofte, a lamb meat sausage from Morocco and the northern Maghreb area, or a spicier turkish kebab.

Where to find it: Try Preša Fast Food in Dubrovnik, Đorđićeva ulica 2. The staff speak English and the cost is affordable. You’ll find it right off of the Stradun, three or four streets into the Pile Gate, just past the Onofrio fountain.

Goes perfectly with: In true fast food tradition, we always ate the grilled sausages with a tub of french fries and our favorite Balkan beers, either Jelen or Ožujsko.

Have you ever eaten cevapi or something like it? If you’d like to make it at home, try this recipe.

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