Joys of Spain

SPAIN, MADRID and RESTAURANTS - Spain is a country of contradictions. Madrid seduces in a way no other city does. It made such a favourable impression That Hemingway wrote: “it is the most Spanish of all cities, the best to live in, the finest people, month in and month out the finest climate.” Much of the festive spirit lies in the historic conditioning and temperament of its people. National characters are forged by history and perhaps it is the case that Spain’s blood-soaked past - the three and a half centuries’ reign of the Inquisition,the half a million lives lost during the Civil War (1936-1939) and the repressive Franco have taught the Spanish the price of conflict. Don’t be fooled into thinking these ghosts are easily swept under the carpet though - the Basque and very recent Catalan cries of independence would seem to suggest a chronic dissatisfaction. Ángel Ganivet, the 19th-century diplomat, wrote that his country was “a cage full of madmen all suffering from the same mania: their inability to put up with one another.” They attempt to lay their demons to rest with their ferias, fiestas and of course, their love of food. Food to a Spaniard is a way of life, a source of pride, and a means of identity. I asked a friend from Madrid what he considered to be the standout feature of Madrilian cuisine? He said that seafood in Madrid was the best in Spain as it’s flown in straight from the coast. Of course, he would say that...the Galicians in the north-west by the coast beg to differ. Numerous conversations I had with locals revealed more: the Basques look down at the way Andalusians fry their fish in batter (they also consider themselves the best cooks in the country); the Andalusians, a jovial bunch from the south of Spain, consider Castilian food lacking in flair and somewhat austere, like the people. Each region has its own speciality dishes. In Madrid they include huevos rotos (fried eggs on a bed of fries and Iberian ham or chistorra) and bocadillo de calamares (squid sandwich). Spain is a Catholic country but food is the real religion. When god can’t solve your problems food heaven is a shorter walk than the local church, particularly when you live in such a restaurant-crowded city. Supposedly, Madrid has more bars than any other city in the world- six, in fact, for every 100 inhabitants. I headed to my favourite tapas bar - La Venencia near Plaza de Santa Anna. Dimly lit and musty, decades of dust cling to the bottles on the counter behind the bar. Sherry (jerez) and wine is all that’s served, delivered by duty-bound staff who are curiously untalkative. With my drink arrives a plateful of tapas on the house; crisp, emerald green olives in herb-scented oil, nutty manchego cheese, and thick cuts of chorizo alongside little breadsticks. No photographs are allowed (a remnant of the days when fascist spies would sniff out revolutionaries) and absolutely no tipping of the staff (out of respect to the bar’s socialist principles). According to legend King Alfonso X, also called The Wise King, had once been stricken with a serious illness which only allowed him to take in small portions of food with small amounts of wine.