Tapa Thursdays: Hamburguesas

“You not liking a hamburger would tell me you’re more Spanish than American,” Samu says as he served us a hamburger, his style, at Taberna la Tata. The mini ox burger has carmelized onions and beets, as well as a healthy dollop of cream cheese, served with buttered carrots. I died. Twice. Turns out I am a hardcore guiri.

In fact, hamburguesa was one of the first words I ever learned in Spanish, so it’s no surprise that the all-beef patties, special sauce (usually mustard)…ended up on menus in Spain.

And I don’t have any qualms ordering it.

What it is: Some type of beef patty, whether from a cow, bull or ox, and usually served in miniature.

Goes great with: It’s ok to say a big, cold Cruzcampo and a fútbol game, right? There are loads of variations on the plate, but the most common are typically carmelized onions and cheese.

Where to find it: Taberna la Tata have served me up two different “burger towers” – the one mentioned above and the one pictured above (I can only vouch for the one on Avion Cuatro Vientos, 105, though there’s another on Avenida la Buhaíra, 17). Another great joint is Bar Viriato right near the Setas, whose portions are oversized and the burgers perfectly seasoned (Calle Viriato, 7). And if you’re looking for a true American burger, you can always pay a ridiculous sum of money to chow down in a Spanish version of Americana at the Friday’s in Nervion Plaza.

Where are your favorite places for burgers in Seville?

Love tapas? Want to see a specific one featured Thursday? Leave me a comment, or post a picture of you eating your favorite tapas to my Facebook page!

Tapas Thursday: Eating Italy

Little known fact about me: Italian food is as much a part of my family’s table fare as meat and potatoes. And I have not one ounce of sangue italiano in me.

There’s two parts to this story: firstly, my mom studied gelato and fashion in Rome in the 70s, developing a love for Ferragamo and fromaggio. And my great-aunt Mary Jane married the boy next store, my beloved Uncle Mario, whose family arrived from Northern Italy when they were in high school. Mario Rubenelli started the Dell’Alpe food import company, whose products can be found around Chicago. Imported olive oil, pepperoncini, balsalmic, and parmesean cheese were always on our table.

When I surprised the Novio with a weekend trip to Bologna, we had little else on our itinerary but gain a few kilos and wash it all down with Chianti. Add an overnight trip to Florence, and our food hangover was coupled with an art and architecture one.

Upon arrival to Marconi Airport, we steered our car south towards Firenze. Eager to eat, we arrived frantic and without a place to park. Our hotel recommended a small trattoria, and we snuck in just before they closed. The place, Trattoria da Guido, was cozy and lit with candles with a plain view of the kitchen. We communicated with our waitress in Spanish with a sprinkling of Italian – vino, prosciutto, acqua, grazie.

My eyes immediately went to the gorgonzola ravioli with walnut sauce, and Kike’s choice of tagliatelle with wild boar meat – a symbol of Florence, anyway – was clear. My chianti arrived with our salad topped with mozzarella and Parma ham, and our fresh pasta a few minutes later. Manggia, we did – I didn’t even take any pictures! My dish was heaven – creamy with nutty undertones and just the right amount (Via Faenza, 34. Open daily for lunch and dinner).

The following morning, a breakfast with a view of the Medici Chapel and the Saturday market met us early. After an espresso, hot panini and even some nutella for my banana, we stopped by the nearby San Lorenzo food market. On a sleepy Saturday morning, many of the stalls hadn’t even opened, meaning the Novio and I had nearly the entire maze of fish and vegetable shops to ourselves. But I was on a mission: to bring back a hunk of parmesean, even if it mean donning more clothes on board our return flight if my suitcase was overweight. Tempting were the rolls of salami, mortadella and tiny flasks of limoncello.

The morning was punctuated by stops in sunny piazzas for another caffeine jolt or Moretti beer. I was aching to get the sightseeing done and get onto having another meal, this time in a student pizzeria where I’d eaten years ago. The wood-backed chairs and exposed brick walls of Osteria del Gatto e la Volpe lent a comfortable atmosphere for our crostini appetizer as we poured over a six-pages of pasta, pizza and calzones. On my first solo trip, spent in Florence, I’d had a simple pizza and a small jar of wine, and the waiters seranaded me from a small corner table on a busy Saturday night – I needed that pizza again.

In the end, we split a hearty potato gnocchi with pesto and a margherita pizza with parmesean and ruccula (Via Ghibellina, 151, near Santa Croce). The meal was a perfect balance and a great value, and it filled us up during a day of driving back to Bologna and a long winter’s nap once there.

Emiglia Romano is the unsung food hero of Italy, home to Parma (of ham fame), Modesto (of basalmic vinegar fame) and tasty regional capital, Bologna (of the meat sauce fame). The gritty capital is not only known for its food, but for its modern university, which meant cheap and plentiful food options abound.

After a long sonnichiarre, the Novio and I bundled up and got a glimpse of the Due Torres, San Petronino church and Piazza Neptuno. Our hotel was right next to a highly-recommended osterria, but the early dinne crowd had us huddled in a bar, drinking beer. Upon changing locations – an aptly named bar called Siesta – the bartender asked the Novio what kind of beer he wanted via the young Italian sitting next to us.

Peppino – with two Ps, not to be confused with the vegetable – had studied in Las Palmas de Gran Canaria and spoke pretty good Spanish. Adopting the When in Rome Bologna, do as the Bolognians do frame of mind, we followed Peppino and his friend Eliza to a swanky, low-lit supper club called Bravo Caffe, where we ordered a bottle of suave red from his hometown of Lecce and a platter of cured meats – mortadella, prosciutto, parma ham and pancetta. (Via Mascarella, 1. Bologna).

A woman took the stage as the lights dimmed, meaning we’d be eating with very little light. Our appetizer of squid with caramelized mushrooms arrived, opening the floodgates of my hunger. I had ordered potato gnocchi with pecorino cheese, smothered in parmesan, olive oil and fresh parsley, a staple on my Italian side of the family. Ignoring the music, the company and everything else that wasn’t on my plate, I popped potato ball after potato ball in my mouth. If there’s one thing that makes me a horrible guest, it’s the presence of good food in front of me – I don’t even remember what Kike ate!

After such a hearty meal, a grappa seemed to be in order, followed by a cocktail. The next morning’s alarm went off and I had to roll off the bed, thanks to a still-full stomach and a slight tequila hangover. We wouldn’t consume much more that day, sharing sandwiches on the plane ride and even skipping dinner.

Back at home, I purveyed my pantry: a new hunk of parmesan, marked with PARM REGG, three types of pasta, and all of the Dell’Alpe spices I’d hoarded from my family’s company. Not bad for a non-Mediterrean.

Like food posts? I also told you everything I ate while in La Rioja, Spain’s de-facto wine capital. Do you like Italian food (or food gluttony)?

Seville Snapshots: When in Rome…

I have to admit that Seville has been less-than-inspiring lately. Between the master’s and work, plus rainy weather and holing up with a recently-returned Novio, I’ve barely even been in the center!

So we escaped la vida sevillana and swapped tapas for heaping plates of pasta this weekend in Bella Italia. Our Cruzcampo became half liters of Moretti; potato chips, crostini.  The Novio even parked his car and chose to hoof it as we explored Florence’s piazzas and Bologna’s jumble of churches and towers.

We spent the weekend looking for the little bits of sun on a cold Saturday in Florence, ducking in and out of bars for espressos and seeking out cheap grappas at old man bars.

In short…we ate. And drank. And ate more.

But you have to wait… I have driving school to attend en español and finish writing about Barcelona.

Tapa Thursdays: The Mercado de San Miguel, Madrid

When I came to Spain to study, my first meal was far from memorable – a slop of mayonnaise, potatoes and nothing else discernable. I was convinced that I didn’t like Spanish food, nervous to move back and not whiddle away to nada.

Turns out, I like Spanish food, and a little too much.

I was invited on the Signature Tour of Madrid Food Tours, a relatively young business venture designed to showcase the Spanish capital’s culinary treats. Mercado de San Miguel was one of our locations along a route that included several stops and twice as many tapas.

The market was bustling, even at 11:30 in the morning. Stands ring the outside of the glass-plated hall, with high tables in the middle, making the market an idea place to mingle. Vendors sold everything from vermouth and Spanish wines, to pintxos and paellas that were ready to eat, to dried legumes and fresh seafood. A treat for both my eyes and my stomach, as we stopped to sample several foods along the way.

The market has a long history – from the times of Napoleon when it was an open-air market! The market then moved indoors, as an iron and glass structure was made to house it. In 2009, it reopened as a gastronomic capital, becoming popular with tourists who visit Madrid for its proximity to the historic center.

If you go: the Mercado de San Miguel is mere steps away from the Plaza Mayor and Calle Mayor in a square of the same name. From Sunday – Wednesday, vendors are open from 10am until midnight, with hours extended until 2am on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Go with an empty stomach for nibbling!

I was invited as the gracious guest of Madrid Food Tour, but all opinions expressed are my own.

Tapa Thursdays: Eating (and drinking) La Rioja

When it came to the last region of Spain left to visit, I didn’t have to do much planning: I was in La Rioja, Spain’s wine country, and I was going to drink as much vinate as possible.

But, as any adult knows, moderation is key, as well as stuffing your face to minimize the effects of the garnacha grape that’s been fermented.

One of Logroño’s most famous sites is Calle Laurel. This pedestrian stretch of street in the historic quarter is home to the city’s pintxos – the northern version of a tapa – bars. Being in Logroño on the weekend meant we had plenty to see, do and stuff our faces with, as the average pintxo and glass of house wine ran under 2,50€. As a lover of eating and drinking on the cheap, I felt almost too much at home in Logroño!

Stop One: Pintxo of Tortilla with a Spicy Sauce and glass of tinto: 2,20€

Parada 1: Pintxo de tortilla y tinto at Bar Sebas: 2,20€

Stop Two: Pintxo de Chorizo and a glass of tinto at Bar Villa Rita, 2,10€

Stop Three: Pintxo of Champi with shrimp and a glass of tinto at Bar Antonio: 2,80€

Stop Four: A Pintxo of Queso de Cabra con confitura de Mermelada, a pintxo of Pimiento Relleno de Setas y Gambas and a glass of tinto: 4,30€

I really just wanted Tana’s morcilla, though…

Stop Five: Meat on a Stick! Pintxo Moruno and glass of red at Páganos: 2,10€

self-timer portrait, yikes!

Stop Six: Pintxo of Piruletas de Solomillo con beicon and a beer (noooo more wine!), while my friends snagged the last three mini hamburgers: 3,50€

I’d say we made out like bandits, but we really made out like fatties. We would return to Calle Laurel just once more, instead choosing to try Calle San Juan, where the pintxos were even cheaper and the bars less crowded.

How do you eat while on a trip? Have you ever been to La Rioja?

Tapas Thursdays: Ensaladilla Rusa

My first meal in Spain was less than memorable: Aurora muttered something as she schlepped a large bowl of something in front of us.

“Cat, quick! tell her I’m allergic to seafood! I think that’s tuna and I don’t know how to say it in Spanish!” Emily hissed from across the table.

My jet lagged brain, tired after eight hours and lugging a suitcase halfway across Valladolid, barely got out the word fish while still searching for seafood. My señora stopped right then and there, threw her arms up in exasperation and chided us for not being as open-minded as the Japanese girls who had lived with her before we had arrived.

I tried to simply was what it was called, hoping that would lead to a run-down of the ingredients. It did, alright, and it seemed that my host mother had folded in every. single. thing. she had in her kitchen into the cubed potato and mayonnaise mix.

We used a “break for air and exploring” as an excuse to pick up sandwiches from a bar around the corner as I explained to Emily exactly what we had eaten:

The Spanish version of a kitchen sink, ensaladilla rusa. Literally, Little Russian Salad.

source

What it is: A cold, cubed potato salad made with mayonnaise, peas, carrots, red peppers and often hardboiled eggs and canned tuna, accompanied with freshly chopped parsley. The dish often comes with picos.

Where it’s from: As far as I can tell, this popular tapa fría is served in just about every region of Spain, though it varies in its ingredients slightly, or even in its presentation – I’ve seen it atop bread in the Basque Country!

Where to find it in Seville: I’m not a big ensaladilla person because it combines the two foods that make me turn green: mayonnaise and canned tuna. Still, if the mayo isn’t too heavily dolloped into the recipe, I can stomach a bit. I recommend both La Alicantina in Plaza de Salvador (Pza. del Salvador, 2, on the northeast corner), who makes their mayo from scratch and was willing to give it to me on the side, just in case. Their tapa has also garnered quite a bit of fame in city polls. Also, La Cigala de Oro near Santa Justa train station had a fresh tapa that’s light on mayonnaise (Jose Laguillo, 23).

Goes great with: Ensaladilla is typically eaten as bar grub or the starter to a meal because it’s cold and scooped directly onto a plate when you order it. I myself need a few big gulps of Cruzcampo to really like it!

Love tapas? Want to see a specific one featured Thursday? Leave me a comment, or post a picture of you eating your favorite tapas to my Facebook page!

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...