Is Aníbal the Most Instagrammable Restaurant in Seville? (and a food review, duh)

A blast of hot air met me as soon as I’d unloaded my bag, a stoller and my kiddo from the bullet train. Ay, mi Sevilla. Nearly two months had passed since the Feria de Sevilla, but that’s the best part about this city – it never seems to change. Not random wooden mushroom where a bus depot once stood, not fiery new gastrobars cozying up to age-old casas de comida.

Sevilla is Sevilla. Forever and ever, amén.

A staple in my Spain life is my guiri group of girlfriends, las sevillamericanas. So when one comes back from Indosnesia for a weekend, believe me when I say I’m not spending my euro coins on the high-speed train to stay at my mother-in-law’s; Kelly’s estancia in the city where these Chicagoans-turned-trianeras merited a fast trip down for catching up and eating up. And documenting on social media – we are nothing but slaves to our screens.

Instagram Worthy Restaurants and Food in Seville, Spain

My friends love food but I’d been clued into the new kid on the restaurant block, Aníbal. “But you don’t even live here! How do you even know what’s new?” In a city that makes eating fun and one of Lonely Planet’s top picks for 2018, there isn’t a lot of elbow room for a brand new bar. But an old school vibe?

Aníbal by Origen is the first concept by the restaurant group, a departure of sorts from Rafa’s first venture at ROOF. While the food game wasn’t as strong, the terrace bar was sleek and reasonably priced. I expected Aníbal to be the same: its Instagram began with a photo like this, after all:

The palacio

My friend Rafael Toribio was one of the first to put a bar on a rooftop in Seville, housed in a botique hotel with views of Old World Seville’s Giralda and the modern Metropol Parasol.

Now that terrace bars in Seville are de moda, Rafa has moved on and, along with two other socios, bought an old palace in the heart of Santa Cruz, just an uphill stumble away from one of Spain’s famous flamenco tablaos and a cheap tapas bar where Kelly and I would spend our hard-earned private lessons money.

The man behind Aníbal Restaurant Sevilla

Airy and expansive, the restaurant is located in a casa señorial on Calle Madre de Díos, buried in the heart of Barrio Santa Cruz. Comprised of several rooms around a central patio andaluz, several of the original elements, like elegant fireplaces, frescoes and iron chandeliers.

restaurants with beautiful interiors in Europe

The front bar is roped off by heavy velvet drapes, seemingly out-of-place in a modern spin on a protected building. But once you walk into what was once a parlor, the space feels open, lit by natural light, and a fusion of old and new.

The word Origen seems fitting – the jungle theme is snaked throughout the space in playful tones and nods to continents where Spain has left a cultural legacy. Given that the menu has hints of these countries and flavors, the play on cultural elements allows each room to have its own feel while staying true to the theme.

cool new restaurants in Seville

the bar at Aníbal Sevilla

Hotel and Restaurant Aníbal

food and tapas at Anibal Sevilla

We were sat at a high wooden table. Had we been more than five it would have been too large to reach across the table and share food and gossip, but we formed a U, never out of arm’s reach of the plates or the bottle of wine.

The food

My friends and I order tapas like we order beers – with abandon, and one after another. You know you say, “Everyone pick a dish?”

We each chose two – we’d ordered half the menu and requested our vegetarian friends have some off-menu items, like grilled espárragos trigueros, coarsely chopped tomatoes drizzled in olive oil and revuelto de setas.

Manu at Anibal Sevilla

The food offering is mostly based on what’s fresh and in season, plus some market finds that sneak onto the fuera de carta menu. They’re rooted in old school Andalusian cooking with a modern, international twist – and oh-so-perfect for an Instagram feed.

tapas for vegetarians Seville

Queso payoyo

seafood dishes at anibal seville

Seared tuna belly over a bed of arroz

IMG_20180624_132051_538

Salmorejo con carne de centollo

tapa de presa iberica

Presa Ibérica 

typical Spanish pinchos

Tostas de pimiento de piquillo to cleanse our palate

revuelto de setas tapa Anibal Sevilla

reveuelto de setas

For the most part, the food was spot-on – full of flavor without departing from traditional methods or tastes. The tuna belly got fought over, and the crab meat with the creamy salmorejo provided the right touch of texture for a hot summer day.

I found the lack of options for vegetarians to be surprising and disappointing, especially given that when I called, I was even asked if anyone had any dietary restrictions! I didn’t try the revuelto de setas, but it came out cold and watery and like someone had forgotten the salt.

The service

Invita la casa, the maître’d announced, setting down a barrage of sweets.

de postre Spanish desserts

True, it was a hazy day in late June where the restaurant sat empty – locals were assaulting the beachside chiringuitos in Cádiz – but we never had to flag down a waiter or send back any food. In a city where good service isn’t the norm, I had zero complaints. We could eat and gaggle in peace but never be without a full glass in hand.

The verdict

cool restauants in sevilla spain

Aníbal won’t make my short list of haunts in Seville – I’m far more partial to places with crass bartenders and a wine list that consists of only tinto or blanco – but it’s r for a fancy night out, a cocktail or Instagram postureo. We paid about 22€ a head with food and drinks and the cubierto – a bit pricier than most other restaurants in Barrio Santa Cruz but less than I’d have paid in Madrid by at least a nice bottle of wine.

There’s no doubt that Sevilla is changing. But the more the city seems to reinvent itself, it always stays true to its (ahem, rancio) roots – even when a restaurant touts a modern look and feel.

Aníbal by Origens review

You can follow Aníbal on Instagram and Facebook and check out their pop up events – everything from cocktail master classes to designer markets to music on their rooftop.

Full disclosure: Aníbal kindly picked up our desserts and coffee, but opinions are – and will always be – mine. Aníbal is open Tuesday through Saturday from noon until midnight or 1am. You can make a reservation by calling 672 44 85 78.

Have you been to Aníbal? Know another restaurant that’s worth an instastory? Comment below! You can also view my posts about the best tapas bars in Seville and Spanish Tapas 101.

On Pessoa, Portuguese Cuisine and Hidden Tastes: a Food Tour with Taste of Lisboa

The prolific Portuguese philosopher and writer Fernando Pessoa had no less than 80 heteronyms, facets of his personality re-imagined as thinkers and poets in his most notable works. And from his home in Campo de Ourique, where he lived on the last decade-and-a-half of his life, he explored the many sides of human life.

lisbon poets

And for someone who knew very little of Portuguese food outside of pasteis de Belem and mil manheras of serving cod, a historical food tour with Taste of Lisboa introduced me not only to Pessoa and his neighborhood, but of the multi-faceted nature of Portuguese cuisine from the very district where food trends are born.

Warning: no bachalau or custard tarts were consumed on this tour.

Climbing the historic Tram 28’s route that snakes through Graça, Alfama, Chaido and Estrela, we left Tourist Lisbon on six of the city’s seven hills and climbed higher on Colina Saõ Roque towards Campo de Ourique and the Prazeres Cemetery. Aptly named the Cemetery of Pleasures, our three-hour tour would begin here and wind us around to taste some of Lisbon’s most pleasurable treats.

Historic Tram 28 Lisbon

Lisbon and I have had a complicated relationship since 2007, when I struggled to understand the city’s vibe, its colorful history and why everyone seemed to love it so much. My country list then could be counted on two hands, and I had yet to learn how to be a savvy traveler. This meant far too many pastries and far too much money spent at mediocre touristic restaurants near Baixa. A second trip in 2011 was plagued by rain and that too-long-to-look-up-its-name volcanic eruption. Tiled homes, an empty hillside castle and Sagres imperiales were my biggest takeaways from Spain’s westernly neighbor.

Campo de Ourique was sleepy on a Tuesday morning as shops opened a few minutes past the hour and locals crowded into cafes for an espresso to accompany their flaky pastries. We got off a stop too early, giving us time to wander the parish’s main thoroughfares before meeting Filipa, a Lisboner and lifelong foodie who began Taste of Lisboa two years ago.

portuguese tiles

Like all food tours, there is an exchange of pleasantries. Where are you from? How did you hear about the tour? Oh, you blog and we have friends in common? I’d been told of the friendliness of the Portuguese, and with a wink and a few jabs at Spanish cuisine and culture, Filipa became a foodie friend.

The location for a food tour was no accident, though we’d picked it for its minimal walking – Campo de Ourique, a historically upper-middle class district considered a city within a city, bustles with concept restaurants, budding chefs and a part-market, part-international food haven sat squarely in the middle. From the start, I was surprised to find that cod had been left (mostly) off of the menu, anda sweet treat was up first.

“Unlike the Spaniards, we are quite humble when it comes to our cuisine,” Filipa stated, looking squarely at me. “But this is not something we claim for our sweets. Our chocolate cake is the best in the world.”

Where to find the best chocolate cake in Lisbon

The small pastry shop, imaginatively named O Melhor Bolo de Chocolate do Mundo, had just two round tables and eight chairs for our group of 11. I am one of those foodie anomalies – gasp! I don’t like chocolate! – but as the creator of the world’s best chocolate cake, Carlos Braz Lopes, turned up in the shop, I eagerly shoveled it into my mouth.

With a espresso cup of port wine on the house, we toasted what could be the best slice of cake I’ve ever had, layered with bitter chocolate and meringue. Portuguese custard and egg sweets may be known worldwide, but I was astonished at the complexity of a simple cake made from six ingredients that had been created by a former businessman with a killer sweet tooth (psst! There’s a shop in Madrid!).

Enjoying a food tour in Lisbon

Just across the street is the newly remodeled Mercado de Campo de Ourique, a fusion of traditional Portuguese cookery and fare with a fish and vegetable market. Tile-lined food stalls ring the perimeter, with high tables and stools occupying the center, much like Madrid’s Mercado de San Miguel. For someone who shops in a market regularly, I was drawn to the food more than the googly-eyed fish near the entrance.

Filipa brought us right to the salads stand. As Catholics and a people whose history is rich with seafaring explorers and far-flung colonies, Portuguese food combines ingredients from all over the world, making Spanish stews and legumes seem rudimentary and almost convoluted. Even the octopus salad I ordered brought out new flavors from one of my go-to summer dishes, flavored with a touch of cilantro and sweet red pepper instead of tomatoes.

marinated octopus salad

We ordered several dishes, all with a legume and fish base, like black eyed peas with flaky cod and tuna. As the food cooked, we sampled fried pork skin laced with black pepper, leitão à bairrada, and learned the origin of convent sweets – an abundance of eggs and flour plus sugar-hungry, bored nuns.

Perhaps the biggest surprise were the peixinhos da horta, or the small fish of the garden, green beans fried in tempura, another Portuguese invention born out of the Lenten tradition to abstain from meat. Tempura itself was created here, though perfected in Asia.

Portuguese craft beer

Mussels were next on the list, and Filipa led us to a concept bar where there’s little else on the menu but the clams and craft beer. Like Spain’s recent craft beer explosion, small batch breweries are elbowing into Sagres’s cornered market while producing not only great flavors but sexy marketing and names that poke fun at gluttony and excess.

Mussels (Moules) in Lisbon

And then there were the mussels themselves, cooked in butter and full cloves of garlic and seasoned with cilantro and a bit of lemon. Normally one to pass up the mollusks in favor of altramuces or boiled shrimp at a cervecería, I bravely took the first two bites to remind my family that half the fun of traveling is trying new foods.

The buttery flavor against the salty squish of the orange flesh added a different dimension to the mejillones I’d tried and quickly dismissed in my early days in Spain. I dug in to the brimming buckets, happy as a clam (pun intended) to have some time to visit with the other two American families who had joined us. The three young girls between them – no older than 12 – were pulling apart the had, shiny shells and slurping the mollusks down between sips of water.

Pessoa was a man of fine wine and ginjha, a cherry liquor served in nondescript, closet-sized bars. A Brasileira, the Cafe Irún to Pessoa’s Hemingway, is one of Lisbon’s oldest and most beloved cafes, and Pessoa is rumored to have sipped bica, espresso with sugar, and absinthe here with the occasional wine.

“Life is good, but wine is better,” he said of his love of the drink.

Foodie Experiences in Lisbon

I’ve long enjoyed port wine and the vinhos verdes, or young wines, cultivated in the Minho province. Filipa took us next to taste different wines from the country’s 2700 hectares of vineyards. In true neighborhood shop fashion, locals can bring their own bottles or wine glasses, try a few varieties, and then bottle up and take home their favorites.

Paired with a strong cheese and quince paste, even my mother enjoyed them.

cod fritter and naughty rice in Lisbon

The next stop had us in front of Pessoa’s last residence, right in the heart of Campo de Ourique. Crumbling buildings covered in tiles sandwiched the small museum, housed in an apartment complex, and its award-winning restaurant, which served us cod fritters (they were, sadly, forgettable, so excuse the claim that I ate no cod on the tour) and a creamy rice with another glass of wine.

Having consumed several dishes by this point and being in the very place where Pessoa’s landmark book, Disquiet, was found after his death, I had a completely different perception of Portuguese food and its intricacies. Like a human being, its relationships as much as its evolution and environment make it what it is, and different situations call for a multitude of adaptations.

Portugal’s tangled history is perhaps the cuisine’s biggest element, but there is much more than meets the eye – and stomach, for that matter.

spongecake Lisboa style

Campo de Ourique had one more dish for us to try, this time in the city’s hospitality school and concept restaurant. Just as we’d started the day with sweets, we’d end with a spongecake, pão de lo, made with nothing more than yolks, flour and sugar.

Proving once more that I knew absolutely nothing about Portuguese food, my spoon sliced into the toasty top of the cake, cutting into a creamy, spongy substance that in no way resembled the sponge cake I’d made as a kid for summer picnics. I scraped the waxy paper holding it all together, eager for the last few sticky crumbs.

Fernando Pessoa once said, “I have no philosophy: I have senses.” And I think I just found mine when it comes to tastes and food prejudices. The tour was more than just a way to spend a few hours with my family and share my travel style with them (and making Christmas shopping a one-gift production).

Lisbon and I had finally found a common ground: good food.

Taste of Lisboa Food Tours

I paid my own way on the Taste of Lisboa Food Tour; all opinions are my own and do not reflect a collaboration between SandS and Taste of Lisboa or any of its affiliates. You can find out more about Filipa’s food tours and courses on Taste of Lisboa’s website.

How to Eat Like a Dane at Christmas

“There is no word in any other language for hygge,” Maria says quite matter-of-factly. “The closest we can do is ‘cozy.'” The rain was coming down outside Copenhagen’s new Torvehallern food hall, and hygge, pronounced hyu-guh, was definitely not what I was feeling.

In the 24 hours I’d been in the Danish capital, I had become convinced at once that the Danes do everything better, from architecture to mulled wine. And, hell, they even did coziness the correct way (because the sun sets at 3:30pm and they have little choice but to hole up at home). I looked longingly at a gløgg stand just a few paces away.

Typical foods from Copenhagen Food Tour

For the first weekend in December, the lack of snow on the ground didn’t detract from my heart swelling for Christmas time. Everything seemed to have an extra sheen, from the glossy windows of Scandinavian design shops to the pop-up Yule markets. And there were evergreens. Real, prickly evergreens for purchase. Enough to make this Grinch’s heart grow three sizes in one day.

So, knowing nothing about Danish cuisine but pickled herring and a thing for open-faced sandwiches, I hopped onto a Christmas cuisine market tour with Food Tours Copenhagen

Torrehallerne Food Market in Denmark

Inside Torvehallern, the marketing wasn’t just humming; shoppers popped between shops selling everything from Scandanavia’s one fresh winter crop, kale, to organic wine and exotic spices. One of the glass and steel buildings held a full-on food hall; the other promoted products in small shops. Maria led us to a corner shop peddling food from the island of Bornholmer, a far-flung island south of Sweden.

“These are the inventors of our hygge,” Maria says, passing out paper plates with several small treats on them. “They had no choice but to become self-sufficient and make most of their goods at home, many of which we eat at Christmastime. Don’t be shy; grab a plate or the food will be nabbed by someone else in the market!” Starting at the top, we tried ground mustard spread over a flaky rye cracker, a sweet toffee and black licorice, followed by a lingonberry jam and a berry liquor. 

Typical food from Bornholmer Island

All this in under 90 seconds, lest a market-goer get a free sample. Maria followed up with a 40-proof grain liquor called Acqua Vit and a shout of skål! Oh, so that’s how the Danes stay warm in winter, I thought to myself as I shuddered from the taste.

Gløgg, an even more potent version of mulled wine, was ladled out for us at a nearby stand that faced a courtyard between the market’s two main buildings. The Scandi sort also includes vodka-infused raisins and almonds at the bottom of the glass, and I could feel four liquid ounces of hygge give me a boost of warmth as we tackled an outdoor stand.

traditional gløgg mulled wine in Copenhagen

Kanuts Kitchen, a free-standing food truck bridging the food hall and market by way of Viking-insprised dishes. The owners use only ingredients that existed in the first millennia – think pork sandwiches and root vegetables. We sampled aebleskiver, an apple dumpling made over a naked flame. Lingonberry jam and powdered sugar brought them into the 21st Century (and the food truck, which is a thing of its own on Copenhagen’s Paper Island).

Apple turnovers at Torrehalvern Copenhagen

aebleskiver Danish pastry

At this point in time, I’d figured savory treats would not be included on the tour, so I let my sweet tooth have a field day. Back inside the market, Maria led us to Grød, the Danish word for porridge. Smells of leeks and carrots wafted in our direction every time a frazzled shopper opened the heavy glass doors behind us, bringing in a gust of chilled air.

Rice porridge typical Danish food

She handed us a cardboard cup of rice laden with cinnamon, sugar and a hunk of butter. Legend has it that Danish children once believed that gnomes helped clean the house and look after the livestock, and grateful parents asked their children to leave them a small bowl of rice porridge, risengrød. It was probably my favorite dish of the day, even though my blood sugar was through the roof!

It seemed that everything I’d heard about the new Scandi food movement was wrong – we’d eaten porridges, enough butter to put a cow into retirement and had heaps of grain liquor. What happened to the fresh, inventive cuisine I’d been expecting?

Scandanavian food is having its moment of glory, thanks to the NoMa revelation in the early 2000s. What was once known as a butter-heavy, bleak gastronomic landscape was transformed thanks to local products, a focus on what’s fresh (again, just kale in December, often paired with – what else – herring) and the mastermind of René Redzepi. A restaurant of the same name – the hybrid of Nordic Food, or Nordisk Mad – is consistently among the world’s best.

Nørrebro Bryghus Brewery in central Copenhagen

After a quick stop for more chocolate and a spicy chai tea at an exotic spice market, we braved the cold once more to head to the Nørrebro brewery. As it turns out, the Danes begin their Christmas season a month earlier than Spaniards with the annual J-Day, or Julebryg beer day. 

Only on the market for 10 weeks, the special Christmas brew kicks off the first Friday in November with bars offering the first few rounds on the house. Nørrebro treated us to their version.

Dios, these daneses even have the Christmas spirits market cornered.

After two more rounds, I left the brewery and started back for the market, determined to find some food souvenirs and maybe another snack. Unlike most food tours, I wasn’t ready to roll home but had snacked enough to be comfortable. I did as Maria suggested – a hot dog on the street, mustard and fried onions dripping all over my hands.

Danish hot dogs typical lunch in Copenhagen

It would still be another few days before I got an open faced sandwich, called smorbrød, and I justified more than one pastry a day on account that a snegl was cheaper than a burger. After four days in Copenhagen, I’ve got little idea what the Danes eat but have pulled out Christmas cookie recipes for my family’s upcoming visit for a very Spanish navidad.

My Christmas memories as a kid tasted decidedly more Scandinavian than Spanish – gingerbread, warm drinks and a few sips of schnapps when I reached my teenaged years. Two hours and probably more alcohol than I needed at that time of the day, I was ready to hole up for hygge and feel nostalgic for my homeland, where snow falls for Christmas and it’s dark before dinner on a stark winter night.

Food Tours Copenhagen kindly offered me a discounted tour, though I was under no obligation to write a review for them. That said, I learned that Danes ALSO do Christmas better than we do, and that is an opinion Maria shares. Find out more about their tours in Copenhagen, Stockholm and Oslo on their website.

How to

Torvehallern is located at Frederiksborggade 21, close to the Norreport transportation depot and only steps from Rosenborg Castle. You can find the Nørrebor Brewery at Ryesgade 3 across the canal, and buy candy in bulk at Somods Bolcher at Norregade 36, just around the corner from the market.

Have you ever been on a food tour on your travels? Do you eat any typically Danish Christmas foods n your family?

Tapa Thursdays: the Best Ice Cream Shops in Seville

It’s 8pm on a Friday night, and I’m currently shuttered in my office, typing away at a computer with the shades drawn and the fan on. They may say ‘hasta el 40 de mayo, no te quites el sayo’ but summer came early and Seville has practically become a ghost town for the next two months – especially on the weekends.

It’s hard to beat the heat in Seville, so I rely on my air conditioning and a change in my diet to help me cope with the sweltering midday sun and the humid air that hangs over the the Guadalquivir valley year round. And that change in diet goes by three words: ICE CREAM LUNCH.


Seville ice cream

There’s no shortage of heladerías in the Andalusian capital, and the golosa in me loves that I could walk into any convenience store, tobacco stand or restaurant and find a popsicle or drumstick. As the kid who ate ice cream for breakfast in high school, however, not just anything will do.

Wedding diet be damned! There is too much ice cream to be consumed (and my mother agrees with this statement). For locations, check out my Bobby Pin map.

La Fiorentina

Far and away my favorite, La Fiorentina is a family-run business that echoes an old-school gelao parlor. Apart from being delicious, this heladería also serves up flavors that you can only find in Seville: like typical Holy Week sweets such as torrijas and pestiños, to cream of orange blossom and chocolate with orange essence. Ask for samples before committing – it’s crazy difficult to choose!

My pick: Hierbabuena con limón (mint with lemon) and crema de azahar. The chocolate with chili packs a lot of bite and a bit of spice! 

ice cream at La Fiorentina Seville

Price range: a small cone runs 2.20€, and cups are closer to 3€. You can also take insulated packages home for 6 or 12€.

Find it at: a good pick if you’ve just finished having tapas in the center or want to head to the river, La Fiorentina is an option if you’re near the city’s main sites. There’s also a small terrace. Find it located on Calle Zaragoza, 16 and open daily from 1pm to 1:30am.

Rayas

I had heard of Rayas long before moving to Seville thanks to a number of friends having studied abroad here. The granddaddy of ice cream shops in the Hispalese capital has two locations in the center and all of the usual suspects, from chocolates to vanillas to mint and strawberry.

You won’t get anything too inventive here, but the ice cream is smooth and natural.

My pick: I’m not as big on Rayas as most people who consider it the undisputed king of heladerías in Seville. I’ll usually go for the cheesecake.

Price range: You pay for the name at Rayas – prices start at 2.50€ for a small cone or cup.

Find it at: Rayas has two centrally located shops, one on Reyes Católicos/San Pablo and the other directly across the street from Plaza Cristo de Burgos on Almirante Apodaca.

Verdú

One warm spring night, I hopped from beers and snails – my ultimate combo – to ice cream thanks to some neighborhood friends. I’d walked by this nondescript shop dozens of times but never bothered to sample their gelato until recently.

Heladeria Verdu

I’m not a big chocolate eater and instead prefer a sorbet, and Verdú’s fabrication process – which follows Valencian ice cream making rules – produces light, fruity flavors. 

My pick: Manzana verde (green apple) and mango are delightful, and you can get the standard chocolate/vanilla/strawberry here, too. 

Price range: 2€ and above.

Find it at: The original Verdú – complete with old school signage – is at Esperanza de Triana, 3. There’s a newly opened branch on López de Gomara, 17, just a few steps from my house. Both are open daily from 11am to 1:30am.

Freskura

Admittedly, I haven’t been to Feskura in years but love that the Alameda has a go-to shop with great reviews and even better service. The shop also boasts, apart from artisan ice cream and two dozen flavors, gourmet cakes and options for people with intolerances and allergies.

Price range: Prices hover around 2,20€ for a scoop; more for the delectable cakes.

Find it at: Vulcana, 4, just off of the Alameda de Hércules. Open daily from 12pm – midnight.

N’ice Cream

If, for whatever reason, you find yourself in the business district of Nervión with an immense need for ice cream, don’t miss N’ice Cream. Located on a backstreet adjacent the Sevilla Fútbol Club stadium, this bakery also does cakes, cookies and – gasp! – cupcakes! You’ll find the traditional flavors and those echoing Spanish desserts, but will pay a bit less than in the center. There’s also an open kitchen concept, so you can watch your goodies being made!

ice cream at heladeria llinares valencia

N’Ice Cream also features lactose-free products, a rarity in many shops and restaurants.

My pick: Will it kill the post if I say the brownie cupcakes with mint frosting? If so, their vanilla is among the tastiest I’ve had in Spain. 

Price range: If you’re paying more than 3€, you probably ordered too much.

Find it at: N’Ice Cream is located right between the Corte Inglés in Nervión and Sánchez Pizjuan stadium, around 10 minutes walking from the Santa Justa train station, at Benito Mas y Prat, 6. They’re open daily from 10.30 to 2 and 4.30 to 8.30pm.

Don’t worry too much – for every ice cream cone I eat before heading to the US for the summer, I’m also drinking a liter of gazpacho.

Have any favorite ice cream shops in Seville to share?

Tapa Thursdays: My Favorite Food Markets of 2013

As I grow more and more interested in food and its place within culture, I find it hard to resist visiting markets when I travel. When I went to China five years ago, I got to witness the fish monger chopping up fish parts, whipping them, unwrapped, into a shallow pool of salt water while customers grabbed at whatever they could. Pig feet, sheep intestines and even a sandbox full of white rice were clucked over, and the international food aisle had just one Spanish product: Ybarra salsa rosa.

I was hooked.

In 2013, I made visiting markets a must on my trip itineraries. Sampling weird and local fare, watching patrons haggle and understanding shopping and cuisine in other countries is one of my treasured memories from my big year in travel in 2013. Here are some of my top picks:

Madrid’s Mercado de San Miguel

While becoming heavily touristy of late, the Mercado de San Miguel is a stone’s throw from the elegant Plaza Mayor and a perfect introduction to Spanish cuisine. Within the glass and wrought iron structure, far from all over Spain is peddled: Madrid-made vermut in half a dozen varieties, oysters and shellfish from Galicia, salted cod from the North Sea.

For my parents, who trust their sight more than their stomachs, snacking at the tall tables in the center of the venue was the best way to try Spanish cuisine without trusting blind faith (or their fluent-in-Spanish daughter).

Florence’s Mercato di San Lorenzo

I surprised the Novio with plane tickets to Bologna in early 2013 as part of his plea to visit the Emilio Romagna region of Italy. He insisted that we go to Florence (one of my tops in travel anyway), and I made I insisted we stop by the central market. On my first trip to Florence in 2008 my Couchsuring host’s flat was just off of the mark square, and I fell in love with the smells that wafted into her airy apartment (mostly spiced meat).

We took a quick trip around the square’s leather offerings outside, bu I was mostly interested in finding a few hundred grams of parmesan and perhaps an espresso stand. We made out like bandits for a few euros, and stumbled upon a great trattoria nearby, Trattoria da Guido.

Valencia’s Mercat Central

In August, I returned from the Camino de Santiago to a quick jaunt to Valencia for the Tomatina. On my third visit to Spain’s third-largest city, I wanted to do something else than the normal tourist route of Calatrava and paella. K and I browsed the numerous stalls in Valencia’s central market, which feature local seafood and produce, as well as non-traditional items such as Ecuadorian and even British offerings.

What is especially impressive about the market is its structure, with two naves adjoining the central building, which is built in an art-noveau style and decorated with stained glass and azulejo tiles. The cupola is impressive, and the market bustles everyday with locals and tourists alike.

Munich’s Christkindle Market

While not a traditional food market, Munich’s Christmas market was a treat. I met my cousin early for cappuccino, which soon turned into glühwein and sausages as we browsed two of the city’s most acclaimed christkindle markets.

 

Christmas decorations, sweets, toys and other gifts lined the stalls near the Rathaus and on the famous Neuhauser Straβe. There are numerous markets around the city, including a medieval market behind Odeonsplatz, a children’s market (with cheaper booze prices) in the courtyard of the papal residence and an enormous punchbowl of mulled wine off of Frauenstraβe. 

My advice? Come hungry. Fast if you need to.

Vienna’s Naschmarkt

Though we mostly missed the Christmas markets in Vienna (there were two smaller New Year’s markets at the Museumplein and Schönnbrun Palace), our first stop after a bus tour was the Naschmarkt. Outdoors, nearly a mile in length and punctuated with small coffee houses and sushi takeout, you can find practically everything in its stalls.

Part of what makes Naschmarkt so great is that there is an endless stream of food, from the traditional produce and meat products, to spices, kebab and Turkish delight. My only purchase that morning was 100 grams of wasabi peanuts, but we ogled over fruit we’d never seen before and cuts of lamb that we’d never tried.

Later that morning, as we sped in a taxi towards the palace, we could see that there was a small flea market on the grounds, just on the banks of the Danube.

Budapest’s Great Market Hall

Known locally as Nagycsarnok, the central market of Budapest is part market, part souvenir store. Erected as a market in the 19th century at the end of shopping street Vací Ucta, it’s the most beloved indoor market in Hungary’s capital. There are three levels – the ground floor has produce and meats (including horse meat!); the basement, seafood and a supermarket; and the top floor houses souvenir stands and snack bars.

A must-buy in Hungary is paprika. I bought eight packs for the Novio’s extended family, only to be grounded in Cluj-Napoca, Romania and never get to meet them. Oh well, more goulash for us!

I’m working on a food-related project or two this year and am excited to share my passion with la sobremesa and el tapeo with you. For more, check out my reviews of tapas bars in Seville or my bi-weekly look at Spanish dishes, Tapa Thursdays.

Where are your favorite European markets?

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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