Madrid--Long Report

From Mike G's earlier excellent report:

I think with any culture it takes some work to figure out how they approach food, and to get past any defenses they've erected to prevent that in order not to have to deal with dissatisfied foreign tourists.

Ain't that the truth.

We made our peace with local tradition by concentrating on one heavy meal at a restaurant/taberna (usually around 2:00 p.m.) and a lighter meal at night (9:30 was the latest we could handle) at a tapas/wine bar.

I'll start with the latter: tapas/wine bars

Unfortunately we could never really accommodate ourselves to the classic tapas crawl, finding either the establishments on our assiduously researched list to be far too crowded and oppressive for comfort--requiring far more aggression and self-sufficiency than our effacing, claustrophobic personalities would allow for--or those not on our list to be virtually empty (Why?)

So, we usually plopped down wherever we could grab an open table at those former ones (after fighting our way past the bar), stayed until we were sufficiently sated with food and wine (a cava--altho vermouth or sherry seems to be the preferred aperitif--several vasos of Ribera (our preferred red--not a light wine!), and perhaps a digestif (the muscatels were excellent)), and then staggered back home. Here are the highlights:

Casa Lucas (Cava Baja 30): Here we left ourselves totally in the hands of the waiter--often a perilous strategy when you're new to a country and a language--but in this instance we were not disappointed. He was intent on making us happy--until we cried "No mas!"--and he succeeded admirably with, among other selections, bechamel/jamon croquettes, quail-egg/eggplant-tapenade tostados, and black (squid-ink) canneloni stuffed with shrimp and vegetables in a light cheese sauce. Splendid.

Maceiros (C/Huertas 66): This is one of those undiscovered discoveries discovered by the NY Times et al that was invariably packed except at the sociably unacceptable hour of 8:45 when we shagged a table just as it was opening . More of a taberna than a bar, it still attacts its share of locals for, primarily, the tapas. In this case, trusting in the waiter led to us purchasing the most expensive bottle of wine in the house (16 euros, good tho), and, almost, the most expensive plates. Fortunately, I was familiar with the meaning of entrecote, quickly found it on the menu (at 14 euros), and immediately assumed control over the food ordering. The razor clams were, by the way, excellent.

Zapatero (C/Almendro 22): This is also a taberna that serves primarily tapas. We ended up here because we took a wrong term somewhere and wound up some minutes later where we had started very hungry and in no mood for additional circling. I never really succeeded in navigating at night the tangled streets of Tapas Central (Cava Baja and its environs--oh so close to the Plaza Mayor and yet oh so far), altho someone less geographically challenged than I might not have a problem. Anyway, Zapatero proved to have a good selection of wines and very simple but satisfying tapas ("suelos"=soles) served on large, flat slices of bread.

Vinoteca Barbechara (C/Principe 27): This place seems "tamer" than the Cava Baja bars and has more the semblance of a modern wine bar than the above. Nevertheless, it offers a large selection of tapas, some good values (a "surtido" of 4 tapas for 10 euros), and perhaps the best smoked salmon we had in Madrid.

Tabernas/Restaurante:

La Vaca Veronica (C/Moratin 38 ) A very welcoming and pleasant atmosphere and staff, and we were very appreciative that they were open Sunday afternoon, the day of our arrival. The menu is somewhat limited, particularly since we didn't come to Madrid for pastas. But their homemade version with shrimp was very good and we would certainly return for their succulent bream baked whole in sea-salt and an excellent banana ice cream.

Casa Ciriaco (C/Mayor 84): An old-school taberna near the Palacio Real with friendly service and tasty versions of shrimps in garlic, stewed chicken (reminding me a lot of our Southern "smothered" variety), and rice pudding.

Cafe del Circulo de Bellas Artes (C/Alcala 42): A good choice for lunch midway between the Real Academia (worth a visit for its Goyas and Zuburans) and Thyssen-Bornemisza, largely because of the value of its menu del dia and the elegance of the surroundings. The food was a bit hit-or-miss, with perhaps some of the best grilled mushrooms I've ever had followed by some gristly grilled lamb, but I'd probably return because of the former. Incidentally, it struck me as being very accommodating to the single diner, whether male or female.

El Cenador del Prado (C/ Prado 4): This was the restaurant we chose for our final night in Madrid, and at 41 euros the degustation menu was an excellent value, even at the currently miserable dollar-exchange rate. It included a soupe de poisson, a cheese-leek tart, a slice of foie marinated in balsamic vinegar, a white fish filet (meagre?), a filet mignon, and a chocolate tart in pear soup for dessert-- all very flavorful and prepared in a far more elaborate manner than my simple descriptions would indicate. Excellent, attentive service, elegant decor, a good wine list (our Miros de Ribera was the best of the trip) and, altho nothing Bulli-innovative or even particularly Spanish-traditional, the restaurant IMO would be worthy of inclusion with three or four forks in any country's Michelin.

A couple of other notes:

For quality of collection combined with access/viewability of the art I don't think there's a finer museum than the Thyssen-Bornemisza. If you want to go, literally, nose-to-nose with Raphael and Hopper et al as you explore chronologically the major schools of Western painting, you can't get much closer than this.

And afterwards, if you're interested in some chocolates for friends and a sinfully rich hot chocolate that will sustain you until your 10:00 reservation at El Cenador, stop by the Madrid outlet of Cacao Sampaka a bit up the road at C/Orellana 4.

Que aproveche!

Not long at all - great post and a useful Madrid update. In choosing these spots, you likely had to decide against going to Casa Mingo (Asturian) or Casa Botin (Castilian, same location since 1725), which are in nearly every guidebook. Did you hear any word on the street about the current state of cuisine of these places?

Santander,

Casa Mingo was pretty high on my list. Several things put me off, tho. It's first come first served, and, like tapas bars, that can be somewhat of a free-for-all. Also, I understand that there's communal seating which my SO prefers to avoid. In addition, their menu appears to be fairly limited, everyone praising their cider and roast chicken and not much else. But with a little more time--and more room for error--I still would've probably given it a try, since it receives consistent high praise, especially for its value.

Botin was, I must admit, tempting, particularly because it's open on Sundays. From what I've read about it, too, their offerings--particularly their suckling pig--appear to have held up fairly well, despite everything. Everything? Hemingway, Guiness Book of Records, mention in probably every guidebook since 1725. For some, that would be more than sufficient reason to reserve tomorrow; for others, to run in the opposite direction. Again, with limited time, I was of the latter school, altho I was looking back over my shoulder a little.

Anyway, the above comments all result from research, and not from first or second hand experience.

Invaluable. Thanks for the current thoughts.

We ate at Botin when we were there (maybe a year ago?). It was good, huge amounts of food. The building was probably the coolest part of it, that plus the student musician groups wandering in, and playing for coins.

We've been back a while from a whirlwind trip to Spain and I'm only just beginning to get the Madrid restaurants in order to post. I'll begin with the last place we ate, not because it was the best but because we enjoyed the entire experience the most. Carlos Tartiere would clearly be a GNR if it were here. I’ve long since forgotten how we chose this place but the cab ride over made it clear we were no longer in the heart of the tourist zone, if indeed we were anywhere near it. The restaurant is located in the Retiro district, a stone’s throw east of the enormous Parque de El Retiro. Dinner didn’t officially start until several hours later but since we had an early flight, we had to eat early to get any semblance of sleep. So we showed up around 6:30 looking for dinner. As luck would have it, the chef was there getting dinner ready but they were really only serving tapas at that point. Indeed, it was more a neighborhood bar with a number of booths and a few tables. Everyone there, with the exception of one other table, was not only Spanish, they appeared to be locals dropping by their neighborhood bar before heading home. It was a Friday evening, so the place may have been a bit more full than usual.

In any event, once it became clear that we intended to have dinner, not tapas, our host—the bartender—was clearly less than enthused. He spoke no English at all and our Spanish was barely sufficient. However, we worked on him and as the evening progressed, we warmed up more and more and by the time apps were over and dinner was served, we were getting along happily—language barrier notwithstanding. The restaurant specializes in the food of Asturias, a region in the far northwest of the country, well west of Basque country; it is famous, among other things, for its seafood because it enjoys a long coast along the Atlantic. But its most famous dish is fabada Asturiana, a hearty stew based on with large white beans (fabes) garnished with a piece of pork shoulder, black pudding (morcilla) and, of course, chorizo. Asturias, like Normandy in France, is particularly well known for its apples and hence, its ciders. As its name made clear, it was not only a restaurant but a sidreria as well.


Chorizo croquetas plus cheese and olive starter


Menu page 1

Menu page 2

Given the specialties, ordering was pretty straightforward: for apps, we chose chorizo a la sidra (chorizo simmered in cider) and setas especiales (a mushroom plate); for entrees it only made sense to go with something bean-y. I decided to have the fabada Asturiana (accompanied by local Asturian cider) and the Lovely Dining Companion opted for fabes con rape y gambas (a similar bean stew made with monkfish and shrimp, to honor the seafood of the region).


House cider


Chorizo a la sidra

Though the chorizo was very good (served with boiled potatoes), I must confess to being somewhat disappointed: I simply didn’t get any flavor suggesting that it had been simmered in cider. The chorizo was a generous piece and enjoyable, but no more than that.


Setas especiales

As the picture hints at, LDC’s mushroom plate was enormous; better still, it was really outstanding. We were so taken with the flavor of the mushrooms that we worked at a conversation with the bartender trying to find out more about them. We asked what they were. Mushrooms, came the response. No, no, we understand, we said. But what kind of mushrooms? “White.” Oh. At that point, our Spanish was simply not sufficient to continue in a way that would disclose anything useful. In addition to which we weren’t convinced that he knew. So we simply gave up and enjoyed the dish. Our only difficulty at this point was that between the chorizo and the mushrooms and the fact that everything was moving very slowly, we began to feel more and more full. Entrees had not yet even arrived.


Fabes con rape y gambas
Knowing that both our entrees were bean based, we were concerned. In the event, it turned out to be a wise thing to be concerned. The portions were generous—we didn’t expect to each of our dishes to come in its own tureen. And, as might be expected, as bean-based dishes, both were hearty, filling entrees. One of the pleasant surprises, though, was the beans. We’re used to getting starchy, heavy beans too often in this country; worse, a lot of beans we get simply taste of a generic bean flavor. Not only were these tasty, flavorful beans—even beyond the nuance of each dish—but though they were starchy (they were, after all, beans) they weren’t heavy, vaguely chalky beans that are all too common here. It’s no wonder that we saw vacuum-sealed packages of their beans marked for sale.

LDC’s tureen had both plenty of monkfish and plenty of shrimp and both were fresh and delicious, making a delightful stew. Though both entrees were clearly based on the beans, we were taken aback at how different our two meals tasted.


Fabada Asturiana

The meaty flavor of three separate kinds of meat infused my stew making it even heartier than expected: pork loin (in my bowl), plus blood sausage and chorizo (both left in the tureen to grab as needed).


Fabada Asturiana, as served with the morcilla and chorizo

The pork loin is already in my bowl; slices of morcilla and chorizo were hacked off as needed. A lovely meal – perfect, hearty fall or winter fare.


Freixuelos rellenos de manzana

By this point, we were neither of us particularly interested in dinner, but the bartender had become friendly and tried so hard to ensure that everything was exactly right that we felt that it was the “right thing” to do to order a dessert. This was about the lightest thing we could find, basically apple-filled crepes. They were fine: nothing exceptional but a nice way to end the meal.

As we were eating, the bartender came around and brought us two bowls of lemon ice, another item on the dessert menu, as a “thank you” from the restaurant. Then, as we were discussing his thoughtfulness, he came out of nowhere to present us with two tiny “parting gifts.” To the LDC, he presented a tiny ceramic bean pot (we now use it as a toothpick holder) and me with a pen (we suspect he was rooting around, looking for something, anything, to give me). It wasn’t the items that he gave us, obviously, so much as the genuine and sincere thoughtfulness he expressed as he handed them to us and thanked us for coming in. We were truly touched.

Dinner, about $83, including everything.

Carlos Tartiere
Calle Menorca, 35
Madrid, Spain
91 573 43 33 | 91 574 57 61
http://restaurantecarlostartiere.com/

Gypsy Boy, thanks for enhancing my Friday lunch break with your wonderful post. I will be excited to read everything you experienced in Madrid. I had the opportunity to live there for a while when in college. Wonderful people, art, and food.

janeyb,
Thanks for the comments. I still have a couple places I've got to get to. So many visits, so little time.

In any event, I was reluctant to visit Spain for a long time (possibly due in part to the fact that my last visit was in 1972 and I still have vivid memories of the Guardia Civil as Franco was still in power). I kept putting it off. And now, of course, I regret it. I loved our far-too-short time there and am eager to return...not only to the places we visited but to the so-many places we didn't.

Thanks for your note. For me travel is now "so little time & not enough money"!

I can't remember the exact year I was there, 1980 or 1981. I was living with the Greek Ambassador to Spain and his family. Armed guards were posted at their embassy gates around the clock.

One day, the city bus I was on was evacuated because of a bomb scare. Guards strapped with ammunition were on every street corner. I had lived in London the previous year, and these law enforcers were a far cry from the British Bobbies.

(I had originally tacked this on to JoelF's post on 2018 Madrid but since it dates to 2106, it more properly belongs elsewhere. And so I move the post, in its entirety, here. With a suggestion to look at that thread as well--particularly if you are interested in El Cisne Azul.)

Thanks for the thread...and the reminder that I never finished posting from our trip to Spain a couple years ago. I offer pictures, without commentary. First up, El Cisne Azul, already well-described above:


Cecina con burrata


Pulpo


Mezcla setas


Setas de temporada

Next up, Celso y Manolo. As much as we enjoyed the food, I felt more like an “outsider” here than anywhere else we ate in Spain. There was a slightly “hip” vibe that made me feel not so much like a tourist—which I clearly am—as like the “wrong” crowd. Maybe that was just something I got from the person who seated us. Others we dealt with were perfectly pleasant, our tourist Spanish notwithstanding. In any event, the food: we enjoyed it. I think we committed a faux pas when confronted with a large plate of red shrimp. After a lot of work deshelling the shrimp, we wondered whether we were supposed to simply pop the entire thing in our mouths. Still not sure. I will say that they didn’t clean the intestinal tract out and if nothing else, the resultant taste convinced me like nothing else ever will that I will always do so whenever confronted with shrimp in the future.


Menu


Croquetas de bacalao


Arroz campero


Gambas rojas


Solomillo de tomate


Arroz con leche

Beautiful stuff, now back to my posts.

But are you sure that's burrata with the cecina? I've never seen anyone cut burrata into chunks and fry it. On the other hand, that seems pretty clearly to be burrata with the pulpo.

Thanks. Can't be absolutely certain but I didn't happen to take a pic of the menu that night and they, of course, don't have their own website. I'm inclined to think I took notes (partly out of a desire to remember and get it right and partly because the name of a dish/ingredients is something I'm generally very unwilling to guess at) and so am inclined to think this is their description. But it's no more than a strong suspicion based on knowing my own weaknesses....