Una noche sin prisa

Several month ago while in Madrid, I met up with a friend; we decided to have some copas and dinner to catch up with our research and work. We started at the Taberna Ángel Sierra, a venerable establishment on the Plaza de Chueca, on the Calle de Gravina. The taberna has an old Madrid feel and lacks the clean, ultra-modern decoration that seems to characterize a lots of places in Madrid and Barcelona. Dusty bottles line the walls, and there is a small dinning room behind the bar. Not el Bulli, but appetizing. One has to crawl under the bar to get there.

After a while we moved down the street to the Bodega de la Ardosa on the Calle Colón. Once more, we entered into a flashback to the old Madrid. Founded in 1892, this venerable spot has seen much history and many personalities. The vermut was stellar, and the feel of the place was comfy and human, scaled to a days without cell phones and frenetic media blitz. Imagine a bar where the voices of people did not need to compete with the digital music track or the loud commentary of sports journalists on a TV monitor.

Photo of Bazaar (courtesy of TripAdvisor)

We had dinner at Bazaar. Excellent locations with a superbly comfortable environment.  The food was superb and at a reasonable price! We spend a good while there without prisa.

Café Ruiz

And the last stop was Café Ruiz (on Calle Ruiz, 12)! As traditional as you can get, in a towny part of Madrid. According to one web, "Café de los de antes, de los de tertulia, historias, y mesas camilla en los que se conspiraba, se arreglaba el mundo y se medía el grado de niebla del universo entero". We had some beers, chips, and talked about textualities and projects for the future. So relaxing to sit and chat after a long day reading dusty books. We enjoyed it! And they had this antique cash register made by Krups! No digital age had penetrated the walls of this wonderful bar.

Enough marcha!

¿Libros?

I work with old books, books published in the late fifteenth century by artisans who viewed the book trade as a craft involving meticulous preparation of paper, type, and ink for subsequent sale. Printing was a labor requiring arduous physical work by a group of men (and women) who assembled the tome page by page with the result that they produced a handsome volume that could be perused and enjoyed over and over again. The images top and at left were taken during a visit to the Royal Albert Library in Brussels where I consulted an exemplar of the Historia de la linda Melosina published in Toulouse by Johann Parix and Stefan Clebat in 1489. The book is the only compete witness to this edition. Other extant editions are housed in the British Library, London, and in the Hispanic Society, New York City.

Churros in Washington

Thursday was interesting. I am in Washington for a conference, and had a long chat about churros with an old friend from Grad school.

When I visit Madrid, I like to take a once-a-week, mid-morning stroll to one of my favorite little places to savor those incredible churros, delightful any-time desserts. The place is called "Chocolat" on the Calle Santa Ana.

Wonderful establishment with a lovely, quaint space. Very traditional yet inviting. I normally order Chocolate y Churros and read the paper while I eat. The walk from my piso is therapeutic and necessary since the caloric level of this breakfast is quite high. Me viene muy bien. In addition, the walk brings me back to my past, evokes memories of going to eat churros, especially with her. I miss her eyes! And the way she would dip the chocolate. A slight giggle in her voice.

Later in the day usually when I am in Madrid, I head out to the Biblioteca Nacional where I spend the day inspecting a number of incunables and writing. And then I head back to La Latina by way of the "Delic", a bar - café on the Constanilla de San Andrés. Dinner is always late. I collapse.

My friend does not believe this routine. She can´t see me eating churros once a week and feels that the past produces too much cholesterol. It needs to be dropped.

But life goes on. We toast with glasses to the present.

Por la zona cordobesa

In November, I went to Córdoba. Rainy and damp day, very similar to the one in Lawrence today. That rain compels me to write and review my journal. Nostalgia I feel for that moment in November.

A delightful trip to Córdoba, in solitude, to recall time past and revisit a city for which I have so much wonder.

The purpose was to visit the Mezquita and other places. I also wanted to awaken a reconnection to the Muslim-Iberian world of the Middle Ages. I was teaching a course on that very subject. It seemed relevant!



The visit to the Mezquita was superb! Amazement always gets the hold of me when I stand inside and look at the arches!. One can spend a lifetime trying to understand the complex, cultural dynamics of this structure. I wish I had that luxury. Alas, to recover all that information.

For lunch, I walked from the area around the Mezquita to a plazuela near the Museo de Arqueología. There I discovered a small bar with a decent selection of tapas. I wanted some croquetas with a caña. Light fare. I did feel hungry. I guess I hadn´t shifted to heavy lunch mentality. The food was indeed tasty!

Plazuela

The museum offered some exciting artifacts. The mix was incredible and brought into focus the interplay of cultures in this area of Iberia. I enjoyed the Museo de Arqueología and the walk back to Mezquita and the Judería was refreshing.

Later that day, I wandered through the town. My digital was flying at the speed of light. I wrote postcards here and there to friends. At one point, the rain was too much,  and I entered into a Café & Té Shop near the Plaza de Tendillas. Muy buena onda y relajado. I ordered some tea; I sipped and sat for an hour viewing the world around me.

The return to Madrid was planned to be late. Exciting to ride a fast train through the plains of Castilla-La Mancha toward the capital. The marvel of modern transportation in Spain. The culture of movement has progressed, but the train still persists as a viable means.

Torrijas on the mind

Torrijas are particularly popular during the Lenten Season in much of Spain and consist of slices of bread soaked in milk, coated with sugar and egg, and fried in olive oil.

It must be the season that brings these delicacies to mind. I made these last November for a dear friend who was visiting me from Vigo while I was in Madrid for business and research.

She is spending a year in Spain teaching, and mostly dedicating herself to travel and a bohemian life. A rite de passage! She had heard of these delicacies from another friend, but had never tasted them. During that time of the year, it is virtually impossible to find these items anywhere in bakeries or stores. She wrote me an email and asked if I could take her out to eat torrijas. La quiero mucho, pero a veces me pide cosas imposibles.... Oh well, lo cumplí.

So I decided to make her a large platter of these item so that she could savor them and decide if they were up to her standards. Curiously I found a recipe online I had used several years ago-- one thinks of the web as transitory and unstable.

The site, Javirectas, published the item in 2009, the year when I first found the recipe for a class demonstration. Not too complicated to make, the Torrijas require several basic ingredients and make a good morning's activity. Accompanied by some wonderful coffee, I set out to make the treats for my dear friend.

Kitchen in my piso.

After slicing the bread and coating the slices with sugar and eggs, I was able to fry them and finish coating them with the honey/cinnamon concoction required. The kitchen in my piso had all the required equipment and space. The dessert was more casera than bakery-made. And what a mess! Luckily, the piso has a lavavajillas!

My friend enjoyed them and consumed several of these honey-laden slices.

Who said medievalists could not cook!

Se parece a Vigo...

During the trip to Seattle, I was struck with a sudden thought for Spain. Emotions and other effects of the mind evocated so many pleasant memories of Iberia. I guess Spain is part of me whereever I go.

Seattle

I visited The Walrus & the Carpenter (an oyster bar) with a friend. While we had to wait a bit to get a seat at the counter, the quality and excellence of the food made up for the time spent. Located in Ballard, one needs a car or taxi (about 30 minutes from the Convention Center and the Pike St. Market). Only complaint is the wait, but it is worth the time.

There is no bar area to sip a drink while you wait, but the hostess suggested we go to Portalis, three blocks down the street, where we found an awesome selection of wines and light appetizers. Worth the short walk. The neighbor was more European than United States.

Portalis offered a superb carte of wines with a simple, yet elegant appetizer menu. We tasted the Technicolor Bat, and it was superb. The wait staff gave wonderful recommendations and was knowledgeably informed. For food, we had a Charcuterie Plate that was stunning.

The decor of Portalis was equally impressive, comfortable, and inviting. Definitely a place to return to during the next visit to Seattle.When it will be, who knows. After the brief moments at Portalis, we returned our original destination.

The Walrus and the Carpenter is small, compact and intimate with no nonsense decoration. The food prepared fresh and served impeccably is amazing.  The view of the preparation area affords insights into the restaurant's philosophy and modus operandi.

We ate incredible fresh oysters with horseradish grated before our eyes.  Unbelievable! I was taken back to my times in Galicia with friends, partaking of the sea´s bounty. My thoughts jump to la Noruega, whose bright eyes and cheer made my days so happy.

In addition, we ordered several other items: lovely crusty bread with butter, some pickled beets, jambon de Paris with trumpet mushrooms, and chevre with pickled prune.

The wine from Spain, a Godello, Casal Novo, Valdeorras (2010). Superb Galician wine produced by Adega O Casal (Rubiá in Ourense) from Valdeorras, whose name means “Valley of Gold”. This region is the most important grape growing and wine producing area in Galicia. Valdeorras lies near the banks of the river Sil in the south of the province of Ourense. Godello is a white variety of wine grape grown in northwestern Spain, in particular in Galicia. I have been through that area in the quest to understand the Galician soul.

And for dessert, twisted toffee cake which I share with KN. The picture is enough to cause a sugar high. It was delightful. Filling.

Everything was impressive, sabrosísimo, and excellent. The cost was surprisingly low given other  experience with similar venues on the East Coast and Europe.

Awesome space for tasting fresh oysters and impeccable dishes served and prepared by culinary masters.

I am already devising a return trip to Seattle, a city that reminds of Vigo on account of its delightful hills and waterfront.

Evoking Madrid

Just finished reading a novel by Ben Lerner about Madrid and the inescapable craziness that besets visitors to the city. I was pulled into the world of Adán, as he is called by his Spanish friends-- an America poet on a prestigious scholarship. The evocation of the literary life are humorous as well as  sad. References that reveals the pathetic nature of life and the constant energies that one must marshall to survive.


I knew I was hooked when I read A´s reaction to Van der Weyden´s The Descent from the Cross, one of my favorite painting in the Prado. The visit to the Prado is followed by countless travels thru the urban landscape of Madrid, Granada, and Barcelona. A is challenged by Spain, language, culture, and adult life. The novel develops with insight and humanity. One reviewer stated: "I suspect Adam had it right all along — there must always be a striving for fluency and transparency, but what keeps life interesting is that it will never be achieved."

I love it!

I believe I will send a copy to la noruega in the hopes that she enjoys the delight of discovery and the misery of unfulfilled love.