A Little Bit — Often
Tommy Chong’s doppelgänger, a shaggy haired and graying middle-aged Spaniard, handed me a glass of golden-hued Manzanilla sherry. Quickly he dropped a dish of verdant green olives in front of me, and proceeded to scribble my tab in chalk on the long wooden bar. One sip of that magical elixir and I was instantly transported to another time.
The walls and high ceilings of La Venencia are dirtied from smokier days. It’s easy to imagine Hemingway huddled somewhere in the back of the bar surrounded by Republican soldiers. It was, after all, one of his favorite haunts, and also one frequented by Republican sympathizers during the 1930s.
Every glass ordered is accompanied by a small tapa. Some red skinned peanuts. Potato chips. One can also order some charcuterie or cheese. All seemingly quite basic, but when paired with a glass of sherry these humble snacks come alive.
La Venencia only serves sherry. Massive wooden barrels line one wall of the bar. Whilst there I drank my way through all five types that they have on tap: Fino, Manzanilla, Palo Cortado, Amontillado, and Oloroso. Fino and Manzanilla are the lightest and crispest of the bunch with hints of almond and floral notes. On the other end of the spectrum lies Oloroso, amber-hued, nutty and a bit spicy. In between lie Amontillado and Palo Cortado. I found myself gravitating towards the elegant balance of Palo Cortado’s mahogany colored alchemical potion.
I’d drinken sherry a few times before, but none were memorable. As such, I had not purposely sought out La Venencia. It just so happened that it was my first stop upon arriving in Madrid.
The vibe was remarkable. Oozing with old world charm, it could not have been more perfect.
“I do not believe anyone much likes it when he first goes there,” wrote Hemingway of Madrid in Death in the Afternoon. I couldn’t possibly disagree more.
Oftentimes when I travel the first day in a city doesn’t flow, but from the moment I landed in Madrid I felt electric. Perhaps it was the warmth of all the sherry flowing in my veins, or the cool night’s air. Whatever it was I was absolutely smitten.
***
In the days that followed I would gently gorge myself on all the finest tapas that Madrid has to offer. On my first night I swung through Bodega de la Ardosa. One of the oldest tapas bars in Madrid, its wood paneled walls and dusty velvet curtained windows lend a timeless charm to this old joint. Ardosa offers a variety of classic tapas, and I was not disappointed with the decadent dish of morcilla that I settled on.
If fried cod (tajada de bacalao) and vermouth don’t sound like the perfect brunch, then you best avoid Casa Revuelta. This hole in the wall doesn’t look like much, but don’t let that fool you. I found myself surrounded by locals going about their daily routine as I dug into perfectly crisped hunks of fried fish.
The parade of tapas continued at Bar Santurce which is known for its simply fried sardines and Padrón peppers. Nothing fancy about it, but sometimes the humblest of foods can be the most joyful to eat. Those tiny sardines require a surgeon’s hand to gently peel the flesh off their diminutive skeletons, but it’s totally worth the effort.
Bar El Boqueron specializes in seafood. For some odd reason I neglected to pop into this lovely spot, whose walls are adorned with Andalusian-style tiles, until my last morning in Madrid. I started with a couple Langostinos, which were succulent and sweet, but a bit pricey. The house special seems to be prawns that are fried on the plancha with a bit of salt. I mowed my way through three orders of those along with a plate of boquerones and green olives. I seriously wish I had found this place sooner as I surely would have eaten there a few times.
Given that it was the beginning of Autumn mushrooms were in season. El Cisne Azul is known for offering of a wide variety of shrooms. Mushrooms and I didn’t always get along. It wasn’t until I visited San Sebastián in 2005 that I discovered the joy of wild mushroom sautéed perfectly in butter. Azul’s mixed mushroom plate with a yolky egg was an earthy earthly delight.
“A little bit — often.” That’s what Boudain’s friends taught him when he first visited San Sebastian in the north of Spain many years ago for A Cook’s Tour. “You bounce around from one tapas joint to another, eating what they call pinchos (the local term for tapas)… Drop in, eat what’s great — and only what’s great… then move on,” wrote Bourdain.
That was my inspiration for mytrip to San Sebastian. Ever since then I’ve taken this mantra to heart, especially when visiting Spain, but also whilst traveling through other locales.
But all those bites need to be walked off. And there are cities to explore in between meals. Thankfully Madrid offers some incredible vintage shopping. Calle de Velarde in particular is lined with numerous vintage shops. As luck would have it, I scored an incredible gold lamé scarf at Williamsburg, and a Prince-worthy purple Italian skinny belt from La Mona Checa.
Sometimes shopping and eating come together in a most unexpected way. El Corte Ingles department store features StreetXO on its top floor. Chef David Munoz, Madrid’s only three-Michelin-starred chef, blends Asian and Spanish flavors in this vibrant restaurant and bar that feels more like something you’d find in Tokyo.
Perched at the lipstick red bar I watched as the team of chefs put the final touches on a variety of dishes, including the unctuous cheese filled croquettes topped with tuna upon which they carefully seared a dollop of mayo with a smoking lump of binchotan charcoal. Those pillowy bites were like pure music to my mouth, gushing molten cheese and offering hints of truffle and smoke.
The Vietnamese fried spring rolls filled were filled duck, topped with tiny raw blue prawns, and accompanied by chili sauce and a tart orange aioli. The essence of Vietnam in a single bite, but boldly Spanish in execution.
Japanese curry was possibly the last thing I thought I’d be eating in Spain, but the beef cheek curry was perfect in every way. Served with a side of rice that had been dusted with a sprinkling of furikake and crispy bits of fried panko bread crumbs. The curry sauce had more depth of flavor than any curry I’d ever eaten. Pure simplicity, yet a masterpiece in every regard.
Desert consisted of StreetXO’s take on strawberry shortcake. Sublime strawberry sorbet topped with a layer of yuzu jelly, whipped cream, macerated strawberries, blackberry and bubble gum flavored caviar, micro Thai basil leaves, and almond biscuits. Mind. Blown.
StreetXO was one of the greatest meals of my life, and to think it took place atop a department store only blows my mind even more.
With my mind still buzzing from StreetXO I was baffled of what to possibly eat that night for dinner. After stopping into La Venencia for my nightly sherry and tapas I set off in search of something easy. Perhaps a slice of pizza?
Instead I stumbled upon Goiko Basics, a burger joint. Compared to the lackluster pizza across the street it seemed like the right move. I opted for the “Kevin Basic” after being assured by the server that it was the best burger ever.
Open kitchens are dangerous. I’m always peering in to see how my food is being prepared when given the chance. I watched as the grill cook chopped up a burger patty and placed it in a metal ring on the grill. That’s not my burger, I thought to myself, but I was wrong. It was my “burger.” The Kevin Basic consists of a chopped up burger patty, crispy bacon bits, crispy onion, and American cheese.
Honestly, I was a bit skeptical… That was until my first bite. Wow. Wow. Wow. What sort of voodoo is this, I thought? It was shockingly divine.
***
But seriously, you didn’t think I was going to eat away all my time in Madrid?! The city offers some of the best museums in the world and all sorts of other art experiences. Everyone knows of the world famous Prado, but guess what? I skipped it. Sorry, I prefer modern art. But really, I’m not sorry.
Museo Nacional Centro de Art Reina Sofia houses Guernica, one of Picasso’s great triumphs. Just to be in its presence was a near religious experience. Additionally, the Reina Sofia also showcases numerous other mystical works from modern art masters including Miro, Man Ray, Magritte, and Dali.
Matadero Madrid is an old slaughterhouse that’s been converted into a massive art complex. Its monthly Design Market was teeming with local designers hawking handmade jewelry, clothing, and other assorted accessories. Matadero’s centro de residencias artísticas showcased a Cyborg Garden the aim of which “is to formulate a climate change adaptation strategy to transform Matadero Madrid into a desirable space: a cyborg garden for trialling forms of co-existence between humans and non-humans that invites visitors to use Matadero’s open spaces in different ways.”
Located right across the street from the Prado, the Thyssen-Bornemisza showcases a wide range of art, but the most exciting work I saw was tucked away in its basement. The “More-than-humans” exhibition featured the work of Tomás Saraceno commissioned by the Thyssen-Bornemisza Art Contemporary.
Saraceno’s pieces are collaborations with spiders that “resemble tiny universes surpassing many of the architectural constructions made by humans, and resonating across scales with the cosmic web.”
The dimly lit gallery featured a few works by Saraceno, but I found myself completely and utterly entranced by one piece in particular, How to Entangle the Universe in a Spider Web?
Within a glass enclosure there were spider webs that were being lit by a red laser beam. The laser slowly scanned the spider webs illuminating only a single cross section at a time. The result was absolutely mesmerizing and left me with a newfound appreciation of these eight-legged creatures.
***
La Tasquita de Enfrente was calling. I’m not exactly sure why. I just had a feeling it would be something special. It specializes in offal, those often neglected cuts of meat that require more ingenuity. Arriving right as they were opening I was lucky enough to snag the last seat at the chef’s bar without a reservation. I opted for the XL version of the tasting menu. What ensued was an onslaught of strange and unusually delightful bites.
The highlights of the meal included a blissful foie gras chocolate macaron, a classic head cheese terrine, a “salad” of tongue and lobster, and a braised beef heart bolognese in a split top brioche bun topped with fresh truffle. The last dish being without a doubt the classiest sloppy joe I’d ever eaten.
The final course was a very traditional Madrid dish of stewed tripe, Callos “Gaona.” Served with pipettes of homemade hot sauce, the stew was superbly and delectably homey.
When one of the servers asked if I wanted coffee and I declined she gleefully exclaimed, “No coffee, no party.” She was right. There was no party left in me after that wallop of a meal.
***
Naturally, on my fourth and final night in Madrid I hit La Venencia one last time. The gruff bartender showed no recognizable warmth or acknowledgment of the fact that I had been drinking there every night since arriving in Madrid. It didn’t faze me one bit. That’s part of the charm of La Venencia.
However, by the end of the long weekend his sweet, frizzy haired female counterpart, possibly his sister or wife, had taken a liking to me. Although I never knew what she was saying we shared a few laughs and smiles and she made me feel welcome. I hope to return soon to this enchanted watering hole, and what’s quickly become one of my favorite cities in the world.
