Kitchen Chick

Bar La Parrilla in Salamanca

Pincho Moruno at Bar La Parrilla, Salamanca

Wanting to get away from the tourist district near the Plaza Mayor, we headed up to calle Van Dyck, an easy bus ride then a somewhat hilly block or two walk away. We started at La Parrilla, which specializes in grilled meats. It was packed. A decidedly good sign. But there was room for two to squeeze in at the bar. The clientele that night seemed to be mostly students, a lot of them foreigners doing a semester abroad. We ordered some house wine and one order of pincho moruno. The bartender, a dead ringer for Nicholas Cage, looked at us like we were nuts. We had wanted to be careful to leave room for a variety of different tapas at different bars, but once we received our little plate of pincho moruno and took our first bite we understood that crazy look — and immediately ordered a second one. That earned us a much more approving nod.

This was heaven. Well, one of the heavens. (We experienced many food heavens on this trip.) Pincho moruno translates to "Moorish sticks" and is marinated kebabs, usually pork or lamb. La Parrilla's were tender, succulent pork, exploding with flavor. They serve the skewer on a small piece of bread and drizzle a thin, herbed sauce over it. Our mouths were watering even before our first bite. I want to know what they marinate that meat in, because it was simply amazing.

While waiting for our second one, we watched the grill cooks prepare and plate some monstrously large dishes piled high with freshly grilled meats, fried potatoes, and more of that sauce, which vanished into the back where there must be a backroom sitdown restaurant. The place was really too crowded to check. And we were very happy at the bar.

If you're on a budget in Spain, then one of the most important things to know about tapas bar crawling is the price structure. Eating at the bar is the cheapest. Sitting down at a table is a bit more expensive. And if the bar has outdoor seating, that will be the most expensive. We liked sitting (or standing) at the bar, so it all worked out for us.

We got our second plate and fought over the tender morsels while the bartender passed glasses of wine and beer over our heads back to the standing room only crowd. We finished up with a third plate, this time a lomo (pork) sandwich. (Don't ask us what it was called. We saw it go by, and told the bartender that we'd take one of those, too.) The lomo was quite delicious, but it paled a bit in comparison to the incomparable pincho moruno.

Bar La Parrilla
c/Van Dyck 55-57
Salamanca, Spain

I lost my heart to Salamanca!

A Flor in Salamanca

Refreshed by chocolate, the next morning saw us to the Estación de Charmartín train station to catch the train to Salamanca. It's a 2.5 hour ride over the Sierra de Guadarrama mountains and past picturesque towns surrounded by medieval crenelated walls. (And storks. But more on them later.)

Salamanca is a gorgeous city. Elegant. Graceful. It would not be entirely wrong to say that I lost my heart to Salamanca. And after only two days, I knew this was a place I could see myself living in, and that Joe and I would have to find a way to come back. Enough history, culture, art, and food crammed into a small cozy city to keep me happy, and with Madrid less than 3 hours away by train for when the hankering for someplace bigger comes along.

Anyone from a university town will be immediately comfortable in Salamanca. The heart of the city is its beautiful Plaza Mayor and the ancient University (founded in 1218, making it almost exactly 600 years older than the University of Michigan). And although tourist shops dominate the area immediately around the Plaza Mayor and other historic sites, the streets themselves are filled with a lively mix of students and tourists. The entire old city is walkable, and neighborhoods farther out are easily accessible by bus. True to the general layout of medieval cities, the streets are a tangled maze, but Salamanca's small size means that in a few days you'll be easily finding your way around.

Our first day there, we set out for the Plaza Mayor, just a few blocks from our hotel. Almost immediately I spied a bakery and the most delicious looking pastries arrayed in the window. A delicate, crisp confection caught my eye. I had to have one.

This particular bakery called it a floreta, though I saw it labeled as a "flor" everywhere else. And yes, it was as delicious and crispy as it looks. I bought several more during our stay, and immediately upon returning home I searched for a flor maker. The closest I have found are these Swedish Rosette Irons and these Rosette Irons. But the pictures of the finished cookies look shorter and doughy-er than the Spanish flores. (If anyone knows a source for the irons to make Salamantino flores, please let me know!)

Just a few scant blocks away from the historic university area are streets populated with locals and non-tourist stores. Appliances, clothing, home goods, groceries, fruit and vegetable markets... all the things of a living city.

Evening time is for taking a paseo, and the locals come out en masse to stroll and enjoy lively conversation. The air was filled with the chatter of a thousand conversations, a delightful sound unlike any I've ever heard in an American city.

Next up: Really awesome Tapas in Salamanca

Chocolatería San Ginés

Chocolate and Churros at Chocolatería San Ginés, Madrid

Our flights are uneventful. We change planes in Amsterdam, having, regrettably, not enough time between flights to leave the airport and enjoy an Indonesian rijstaffel in the city but more than enough time to cool our heels impatiently at our gate until our flight to Madrid.

It's evening by the time we arrive. We've been traveling for about 24 hours. By the time we collect our luggage and check into our hotel it's dark, and we're hungry.

In some cities, this would be a problem. Fortunately, we're in Madrid. Armed with directions from our hotel front desk staff, we hop on a bus and then the metro and have our first glance at the Plaza Mayor. The Plaza has a friendly feel, with clumps of Madrileños and gawking tourists. We stop by a bar for some tapas (including an insanely good potato dish with eggs, jamon serrano, and what we'll later learn are pimientos al padron) and wander the streets, and to our delight stumble upon Chocolatería San Ginés

San Ginés, was on our "must visit" list, but we hadn't been actively searching for it that night. No visit to Madrid would be complete without a stop at Chocolatería San Ginés Founded in 1894, it started as a popular breakfast place but has since evolved to become a popular late-night/wee-early morning spot to end a late night of partying or tapas bar hopping. (Given how late some Madrid natives stay up, I guess that means it's still a breakfast place...) Though they offer some other items, there is really one must-have thing to try on your first visit: the churros con chocolate. Churros are fried dough sticks, perhaps more commonly known in the States in their Mexican incarnation and coated in cinnamon sugar. San Ginés churros are plain, but that's because you dress them up with hot chocolate!

We lucked out that first night. A street table right near the door opened up just as we arrived. We ordered two churros con chocolate and a few minutes later a huge plate of churros and two cups of chocolate arrived at our table. Heaven. We dunked our churros in our chocolate and enjoyed the street scene. The night was cool, but with a jacket, not uncomfortable. A few doors down, what looked like a dance club was just gearing up for a late-late night opening, a bouncer or two watching the street from their door posts while muscians carried in instruments.

We tried churros at more than one place in Madrid, and these were the best. We loved San Ginés so much that we went there three times during our 10 days in Spain, though that first night was the most magical and perfect ending to a long grueling day of travel. The churros arrived warm and crisp, and the chocolate rich and thick and sweet but not too sweet, flavored with a touch of vanilla and canela* (Ceylon cinnamon, or "wild cinnamon"). We were less enamoured of the porras, a larger thicker version of a churro. Ours arrived cold and greasy. But the churros were fresh and perfect all three times we had them.

On our third trip we spied the boxes of San Ginés chocolate sitting on a shelve over the bar and snagged outselves a few as souvenirs. Now I just have to perfect my own churro-making and throw a "churros con chocolate" party, and we'll be able to enjoy a little piece of Madrid at home.

Coming next: Salamanca — medieval universities and tapas!