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: A Gastronomic Experience at Restaurant Puerto Blanco in Calpe

The Novio does’t understand my “world.” He doesn’t understand why I’m a smartphone addict, why I take pictures of details, and why I spent my hard-earned cash (hard-earned on a slot machine in Vegas, that is!) on a DSLR, my trusty Camarón.

Then I dragged him along as my plus-one on a blog trip. During our weekend in Calpe as VIPs for #calpemocion, we ate, drank and made merry with 50 other digital media strategists, and the Novio finally understood why I love blogging and sharing my stories and photos with my readers.

During our welcome dinner at Restaurant El Puerto Blanco, one of Calpe’s most famous eateries, he even graciously held the bite-sized tapas we munched on while I shot them. Score.

Welcomed to Puerto Blanco by the team of Calpemoción, we had a champagne cocktail with fruit  skewers while Mario Schumacher, the event organizer and master in experiences, greeted us. The mayor and tourism board of the fishing village-cum-tourist destination was on hand, too, and we had a few beers while they spoke.

The setting was idyllic: at the foot of a squat, albero-colored hotel (private bungalows can be reserved – but the waiting list is nearly a year!), a pristine dining room welcomes guests just right along Calpe’s lesser port, Puerto Blanco. Even though the night was cool for May, we spent out time on the terrace, complete with a pool and lounge chairs.

Mario presented executive chefs and husband and wife, Maria Grazia and Patrick Marguette, who would be serving us a menu full of Calpe’s flavors. We got to mingle and grab the tapas off trays to our heart’s content – I ate until I was completely stuffed, trying to find room for one more braised pork rib or another pinch of brownie.

Warning: this post contains little more than photos of scrumptious food. You have been warned.

If you go: The Puerto Blanco restaurant is located adjacent to the port of the same name in Calpe, a 20-minute drive north of Benidorm. Most tasting menus are 28 – 38€, which include two dishes and a desert. Be sure to call ahead, as the place is usually booked during the busy summer months. Puerto Blanco is closed during the winter months, and closed Monday in the summer. Check their website for more information on opening times and restaurants.

Are you ready to devour your computer? I didn’t even include everything that we ate! Five desserts and I was in my happy place. As for my tapas Thursday absence…I’ve been eating camp food for nearly three weeks. Nothing else needs to be said about that.

Tapa Thursdays: Gazpacho

I have never been one to stand up to the hot summer sun in Seville. I made the poor decision one year to cycle home from my friend Stacy’s house at 3pm. In August. Trying to beat the Sevici’s 30-minute limit.

I was shaking by the time I got home, and the Novio had to stick me in the shower, clothes on, so that I’d cool down. After that, it was a cold glass of gazpacho and I felt immediately better.

When the temperatures start to rise in Seville, I find that my only defense are cold showers, the AC in our living room and an always full glass of gazpacho.

What it is: A cold, tomato-based soup made of little more than tomatoes, green peppers, cucumber, salt, garlic, olive oil and vinegar. It’s not only a simple dish, but it’s simple to make! Often, a garnish or onions and cucumbers is sprinkled on top, and some choose to eat the dish (well, drink it, really) with croutons on top, too.

Where it comes from: Gazpacho is said to have been invented by the Arabs, but it’s now a staple in Andalusian gastronomy, thanks to the hot summer days. Variations are numerous, including gazpacho manchego, which I tried in Calpe, or by substituting tomatoes for anything else. My favorite? Watermelon gazpacho!

Goes great with: The Novio and I usually use gazpacho as a primer to just about anything we’ll eat. It’s also perfect for practicing the Spanish habit of hacer el barquito, or mopping up the remains with a piece of bread.

Where to get it in Seville: I prefer to make my own gazpacho, though I have fond memories of my first few days in sweltering Seville, drinking it by the glass full in the original Bodeguita Romero on Antonia Díaz.

Are you a gazpacho fiend? Have  certain go-to tapa, or want to see something featured on Sunshine and Siestas? Leave me a message in the comments!

Betting on Lunch at the Lonja de Pescado of Calpe

YA vienennnnnn! At the sound of the bell, plastic crates of fish and shellfish descended on a thin conveyor belt. Date prrrriiiiiisaaaaa! Hurry! I screeched to the Novio, having already informed Mikel of A Salto de Mata via Instagram that any red mullets were mine for the taking. Our lunch was being auctioned off, and our salmonetes were at stake.

Big mistake: the other auctioneers were smartphone-enabled, whereas my poor Novio was dealing with a broken machine and not-so-nimble fingers.

We were at the Lonja de Pescado of the village of Calpe, witnessing a daily event in this sleepy fishing town-cum-beach destination for Northern Europeans. Sitting in bleachers around a conveyer belt equipped with large screens, we were willing to pay upwards of 100€ for just a kilo of shrimp.

Just the night before, the Novio and I joined 49 other VIP couples – bloggers, digital media strategists and tourism professionals – as we ate morsel afer morsel at the celebrated El Puerto Blanco restaurant in Calpe. This family run eatery on the Costa Blanca runs on tourism and, indeed, el turismo is Calpe’s economic motor. Eight of 10 Calpinos work in the industry, and the privileged location on two pristine bays means that the mar is Calpe’s lifeblood.

No visit to the small village north of over-touristed Benidorm would be complete without paying homage to the ocean and its important role in Calpe’s economy. We began our day by taking a tourist train ride from our hotel, Gran Sol y Mar, to the port nestled just below the Peñón Ifach. The sun glittered off of the water as we were herded into the humble building labeled LONJA DE PESCADO.

This isn’t my first trip to the fish rodeo: for my friend Hayley’s 26th birthday, we had lunch at El Tintero, a seaside restaurant where you shout for your food as the white-and-black-clad waiters bring around whatever they’d caught that morning. In Calpe, the subasta, or auction, begins around 6pm when all of the fishing boats come in. Fish stink permeated my consciousness far too early in the morning, but as soon as the local fisherman began passing out the remotes that were to be used to bet, I could feel my pulse quicken.

 As the daily catch came down the belt, I craned my neck to see what was in the crates. On the screen, the name of the fish, its weight and the number of buckets to be expected, and a camera affixed at the end of the belt gave us a real-time view of the seafood passing underneath it.

I watched in horror as the prices climbed upwards. “Coño!” the Novio shouted, “I think our machine is broken!” The alarm sounded again, and the boss informed us that he was putting a cap on what we could spend for the next round. We were to pass along our remotes to others and watch the process repeat itself.

After we’d had two rounds of betting on everything from octopus to crabs to lenguado, Mundo Marino treated us to a catamaran ride around the Peñón with a glass of champagne and then it was back to dry land for fried seafood and a paella contest. We sampled half a dozen different types of the rice based dish, all cooked by different restaurants around the port and served up with homemade alioli.

…and now the Novio is beginning to understand my world.

If you go: The Lonja de Pescado de Calpe is located at the foot of the Peñón Ifach on the Esplanade. Look for the fishing boats, the long nets and the smell of freshly-caught fish. The building can be visited from 16h to 19:30h, and the subasta happens around 6pm, once all of the boats have returned with their daily catch.

Many thanks to Calpe Tourism Board for their invitation to #Calpemocion, and their generosity when it came to feeding, housing and entertaining us. For more information about my weekend of san, surf and seafood (with my own opinions, claro), check out all of my Calpe-tagged posts.

Tapa Thursdays: Caracoles

Spain is a country in which some foods are seasonal: pumpkins are ripest around Autumn, chestnuts are peddled on the street at Christmastime and strawberries show up on the market in February or March.

Then the signs start showing up: HAY CARACOLES. Snails here.

For someone who’s a texture freak when it comes to food, I slurped down my first little tentacled creature during my first Spring in Seville. And I wanted more. Like shrimp, I’ve learned to love them and giddily wait for la temporada de caracoles.

What it is: This little bugger, a common snail in English, has been eaten since the Bronze Age, and in Spain they’re prepared by cleaning the mollusk while it’s still alive, and boiling them over low heat with garlic, spices, salt and cayenne pepper for nearly two hours. You can get a tapa for around 1,80€, a plate for 5€ or even buy bags of live snails on the street near market and make them at home.

Where it comes from: Snails are eaten all over the place, but the caracoles that you’ll commonly find in Seville are found near the Atlantic coast and in Morocco.

Goes great with: Alright, it’s getting trite now…everything just tastes better with beer. The Novio and I often meet after work for a beer or two and a tapa of caracoles.

Where to find them: Bars all over Seville (as well as Córdoba) will serve up tapas of caracoles during the springtime. My picks are Casa Diego in Triana (Calle Esperanza de Triana, 19. Closed Sundays) and Cervecería La Tiza in Los Bermejales (Avda. de Alemania, s/n. Open daily).

Like caracoles? Have a Spanish food you’d like to see featured on my bi-weekly tapas feature? If you’re interested in learning more about mollusks, read more on my guest post on Spanish Sabores.

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!

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