Monday, April 19, 2010

Spain Trip Part 5: Barcelona Holdouts

Part 1: Brussels Layover
Part 2: Calçots Somewhere in Catalonia
Part 3: The House of Garlic Mayonnaise
Part 4: Spanish-Italian Fusion in the Countryside

The conventional wisdom is to never look for Spanish culture in Barcelona. Locals will fervently inform you - in Catalan, not Spanish - that you are in Catalonia, not Spain. Here, the tapas, the gazpacho, and the bullfights are all proudly poor. The less Spanish they seem, the more Catalan they feel, and Catalans are extraordinarily nationalistic. It is therefore a badge of honor for Catalan restaurateurs to serve, say, really shoddy gazpacho.

But Nono Fernandez, Andalusian bassist and food lover, has found a holdout, owned by genuine Andalusians, from the south. There are said to be a few authentic Andalusian eateries in the remote Hospitalet district, but Nono's tapas joint, La Higuera (Carrer Sicilia 101; 932 463 886), is completely off-radar right in the center of town.

Below, Nono and expat guitarist/food lover Dave Mitchell (who I neglected, two reports ago, to credit as the discoverer of my all-time favorite restaurant, La Llar De L'all I Oli) work exuberantly through a plate of acorn-fed Spanish ham (Dave, right, is also holding a plate of pan con tomate - it's safe to use the Spanish term for 'pa amb tomàquet' here in this foreign bastion):

Nono's speciality is in finding ordinary-looking places serving ordinary-appearing food which turns out to be surprisingly high in quality and price. He's not interested in pretentious eateries (Barcelona has way more than its share), but he won't hesitate to spend up in ordinary places serving extraordinary food. Another great find of his is Jaizkibel (C/ Sicília, 180; 93 231 32 62), a nearby Basque tapas place which excels at shellfish and potatoes. I grew so woozy feasting on their cigalas (aka langostines - sweet little crustaceans halfway between shrimps and lobsters) that I forgot to shoot a photo.

Dave Mitchell likes a better, and better-known, Basque tapas place at Taktika Berri (Valencia 169;93 4534759), but, as he acknowledged from the start, it's extremely crowded and lacks down-home charm. You compete for items as they emerge from the kitchen, ala dim sum, deflecting ravenous diners as they feverishly grab at the plates. Fun once or twice, but Jaizkibel's more tranquilo...

One more Nono find: Yaffa (Carrer de la Marina con Casp), a tiny Syrian joint trying to make a living serving staunchly authentic food to a non-comprehending populace (Barcelona has plenty of North Africans, but few Arabs).

Speaking of Barcelona's North Africans, there are lots of Moroccan fast food places - I've never found a great one - but few sit-down places cooking ambitious things like bastilla. I found a good-looking one in the dodgy neighborhood just west of the Ramblas, but I never made it back to actually try a meal. Ali Baba (c/Robador 14; 652 184 689) doesn't Google at all. I like it!

Slicing the catty nationalism ever more finely, Valencia (the name of a region and also its capital city) is just a few hours from Barcelona, and while people there speak Catalan, don't ever make the mistake of voicing this observation. Locals testily insist they're speaking an entirely different language, "Valencian" (they've even managed to inject this insanity into the city's Wikipedia entry). The difference between Catalan and Valencian is, as I understand it, that one uses "vusaltras" for second person plural, and the other uses "vusaltres". I can't remember which is which. And that's it.

So the Catalans rebuff this rebuff by making staunchly poor horchata (a quenching nut drink that's the second proudest Valencian foodway, after paella), inevitably from mix. Barcelona horchata lovers have long faced a grave challenge in finding good versions. The longtime favorite has always beens an anonymous little soda shop at the intersection of Mallorca and Bruc (on the east side of the plaza). But I was ecstatic to read this superb piece of horchata scholarship, revealing that there are actually a couple of proud, serious horchaterias around town: Sirvent (calle Parlament 56, near Mercat de Sant Antoni) and La Valenciana (Aribau 18, near the University).

I visited the latter, and was amazed to learn that they serve horchata year-round (the place at Mallorca and Bruc is open only for summer):


Serious horchata is made fresh daily and is ladled out of barrels (lousy horchata, from mix, is served from fountains):


Fartons (bready ladyfingers) are the traditional accompaniment:

It's every bit as quenching as it looks:

Horchaterias usually serve pastries. These looked great:


Continue to Part 6: Chocolate Leftovers

3 comments:

Sadly, No! Research Labs said...

"Fartons...are the traditional accompaniment."

Oh, I've been suspicious of those. 'Fartons' sounds like a kind of subatomic particle discovered by those zany young physicists of the 1970s.

Like suppose a gluon interacts with a peon and/or a puon, releasing a pair of morons. Can we then determine the source of a detected farton through the formula (P^U)=(S/D), such that 'P to tha U' equals Smelt It over Dealt It?

I'm not saying they aren't delicious. I'm just saying.

Sadly, No! Research Labs said...

"Fartons...are the traditional accompaniment."

Oh, I've been suspicious of those. 'Fartons' sounds like a kind of subatomic particle discovered by those zany young physicists of the 1970s.

Like, suppose a gluon interacts with a peon and/or a puon, releasing a pair of morons. Can we then determine the source of a detected farton through the formula (P^U)=(S/D), such that 'P to tha U' equals Smelt It over Dealt It?

I'm not saying they aren't delicious. I'm just saying.

James Leff said...

I've heard that if you combined fartons and lardons, you can wind up with a hardon. So run that through your collider.

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