Courtyard in an old house, Barcelona. Photo Credit: Elaine Rati Kochar

By Elaine Rati Kochar

July 7, 2008 (Sawf News) - One hot, sunny afternoon, long ago, two thirsty horsemen ducked into the cool darkness of a roadside café in Spain, ordered some of the house wine and settled down at the bar counter… to have their drinks assaulted by half a dozen equally thirsty flies! Maybe these horsemen reached across for a slice of dried cured ham or a small slice of bread and “covered” their glasses with it….. And the famous tapas was born! As we wandered through Spain, we nibbled at these delectable tidbits lying on the counter tops while we tried out the house version of Sangria! The drink, of course is well known outside Spain, but Spain still had many hidden culinary experiences up her sleeve for three women who were backpacking through Barcelona, Granada, Cordoba, Madrid and Salamanca.

The Alhambra, Grananda. Photo Credit: Elaine Rati Kochar

We sampled cured and smoked ham, fresh and dried fish, pickled olives, potatoes cheese, bread, pork, and beef, quick hors d'oeuvres to keep the Sangria anchored. Selections of tapas are sometimes served on toothpicks, and the 'empty' toothpicks are counted for the bill to be made up!

Inside the Sagradia Familia, Barcelona. Photo Credit: Elaine Rati Kochar

Backpacking through Spain doesn’t leave much scope for fancy restaurants, but Spain has an enormous amount of street food and little roadside cafes where the locals pop in for their morning glass of full cream milk coffee or a 'galao'.

Vegetarians need never worry about starving in Spain, especially if they condescend to eat the humble egg. Eggs are an all day favourite in Spain. Small restaurants offer a selection of three or four different kinds of platter of the day, a large slice of grilled fish, pork chops and chicken with steamed vegetable, or mashed potatoes and a couple of fried eggs showing off on the top of it all. Every meal is preceded by a basket of breads and a bottle of olive oil and some vinegar.

Gaudi Architecture on La Perdrera, Barcelona. Photo Credit: Elaine Rati Kochar

While we waited hungrily for the order to arrive, we demolished it with a drizzle of oil and vinegar -- only to be dismayed by the huge helpings of the plat du jour! Juicy pork chops, the size of a quarter plate, or a flaky fillet of fish lightly grilled lying side by side a couple of sunny side ups! Of course there was the time I ordered eggs and fish and was surprised to see two firm rolls of creamy…. well… something, on my plate which looked neither like an egg or a fish! On closer scrutiny, I discovered they were roe, or fish eggs, delicately steamed! Seeing my amazement the kind hearted waiter whisked the plate away to return with an array of very fresh, very raw fish on a tray for me choose from! Needless to say, we splurged on a hefty tip!

Moorish quarter under the Alhambra, Granada. Photo Credit: Elaine Rati Kochar

Mornings in Andalucia start with a carb kick. People line up in the doorways of their favorite cafes where the waitresses do a brisk business packing up brown paper bags of churos. We preferred to sit down to the traditional breakfast of a steaming, velvety thick cup of chocolate and a large plate of churos. Churos are a savoury snack of deep fried batter piped through a hole in a cloth bag, very much like our “murkus”, only thicker. These are made of a flour and egg batter in large concentric circles and then broken up and served very hot. We dunked them into the viscous chocolate, and the sugar high is enough to get you through a whole day of sightseeing…. That is, till you pass a crowded little bar where last nights litter hasn’t been swept off the floor and a sleepy bunch of regulars sit hunched over a newspaper and the coffee galao, little glasses of strong coffee in milk. And the freshly made creamy yellow thick tortillas line up tantalizingly on the counter top waiting for you to take a wedge out of them ! Tortillas are firm, well cooked omelettes made of potatoes and eggs. You can buy a slice any time of the day along with ham, sausages, beer or coffee.

Jewish Quarter Cordoba. Photo Credit: Elaine Rati Kochar

Wandering through the Jewish quarter close to the Mesquita in Cordoba we strolled past arched grills with views of Moorish courtyards dripping with flowering creepers, paved with intricately painted yellow and blue tiles. The narrow lanes are dotted with souvenir shops selling local crafts and I discover beautifully hand tooled leather articles, a craft handed down from centuries by the Jewish residents of the city. But souvenir hunting is hot and thirsty work and as lunch hour approached the lanes opened out into little squares with shady umbrellas over small tables and chairs. Cafes line the squares and we chose one with a waiter with a sense of humour, it seemed! He suggested something different, a surprise to quench our thirst, “rojo da Toro” or the Tail of the Bull cocktail! And what a kick it had! The simple house white wine topped up with 7up had us giggling and tottering into another maze of cobbled lanes in the evening shadows of warm stone walls.

Going to the Fiesta, Cordoba. Photo Credit: Elaine Rati Kochar

Cordoba had an additional treat in store for us – a 'fiera', or fiesta. Four days of unbridled revelry, eating, drinking, dancing, in a huge fairgrounds with stalls erected for the occasion. There were games of chance and wild rides, cotton candy and ice-cream for the crowds of families and young people, all dressed up in their traditional finery, the women in vividly colored, flounced fitting gowns and the men in black or grey high waited trousers, short jackets and hats. The temporary halls were festively decorated and music of all genres poured out of them, luring the impatient dancers in. There were many halls playing flamenco music but hiphop, techno, retro and rock weren’t scarce either.

Souvenir shop, Grananda. Photo Credit: Elaine Rati Kochar

After a long session of whirling and clapping, the crowds poured into the food halls. We ate paella cooking in pans four feet across in width, yellow saffron rice simmering with pieces of chicken, whiskered prawns, chorizo sausage and mussels. The smell of barbecuing meat wafted into the lanes and we sat in front of huge platters of batter fired squid and a selection of fried fish. There was meat on squewers, loin of lean pork, chops with thick rims of fat, sausages fat and thin, fried potatoes, aubergine and sweet potatoes. There were glass cases full of different nougats and humble peanut toffee, the fattest plums, enormous black cherries, and the golden velvet loquat. We couldn’t resist the offer of a shot of local wine for a euro; potent stuff which was delicious and could have been drunk yesterday!

We came back to the fiesta the next day to dance and eat and discovered a stall with a selection of fillings--- vegetables, sweetcorn, ham, cheese, all cut up into little pieces and boiled, three different types of dressing, sour cream, mayonnaise with blue cheese and tomato ketchup, and sea food. The girl at the counter gingerly took out huge potatoes in their jackets cooked to buttery perfection in the oven, scooped out the insides, mixed the mash with our selection of fillings and dressing and stuffed it all back into the jacket. The result was nothing short of divine!

Fairytale Salamanca, a university town. Photo Credit: Elaine Rati Kochar

But the coup de grace was an unexpected treat! While walking along a main road close to the hotel we passed tables set up on the pavement next to a large stall. The tables had big plastic tubs on them and a stand for toothpicks. Curious, we had a look at the wares in the stall and discovered SNAILS! They were sold, blanched in hot briny water and we bought two glasses full of the tiny snails. We sat, messy and dripping scooping out the snails from the shells and digging the stubborn ones out with the toothpicks provided. And were we glad we braved it for they were positively delicious! In spite of our initial hesitation we were glad we discovered this unforgettable roadside snack.

We left Spain with memories of handsome men playing, singing and dancing Flamenco in an underground cellar in Granada while we drank Sangria and a spicy hot chorizo sausage tucked into our luggage as a reminder of this wonderful country.