Cheap & local seafood in Madrid

What do you think about when you think about the food of Madrid? That’s a curly question that tends to stump people on our food tours. Often guests say paella, or perhaps tapas (which assumes – incorrectly but understandably – that tapas is a food group) or they head for safe ground and simply suggest jamón. The thing is, Madrid’s gastronomic identity is a bit of a conundrum for many new arrivals. Which means they get a hell of a surprise when we tell them that this city has the second largest fish market in the world. In a landlocked city? What gives?!

Well, we Spaniards (me being of the honourary sort) eat a hell of a lot of fish. And Madrid, being the capital of Spain and the centre of power, has long demanded – and been able to pay for – a lot of excellent fish. And that means that the capital is a fabulous place to get your seafood fix. Of course, there are lots of pricey places to chow down on fresh octopus or big ugly monkfish, but there are also a number of rough-and-tumble, cheap-as-chips joints where the locals get their seafood fill. And those are the places I wanted to celebrate in this video.

So, without further ado… My favourite places to eat cheap seafood in Madrid!

(p.s. The largest seafood market in the world is in Tokyo. And p.p.s. No you can’t visit the Madrid one, it’s only for trade customers unfortunately.)

What are tapas? And how to eat tapas like a Spaniard!

What are tapas? Ha! It’s a trick question. Because there’s no easy answer.

Here’s the thing. I remember about two years ago when I was giving a tapas tour in Madrid for my company Devour Spain, and in the first bar one of my guests said to me, “Are we in a tapas bar now?” Boom! That’s when I realised that although tapas have gone global, people who are visiting Spain for the first (and second) time often have no clear idea of what it really means to go out for tapas in this country. Or actually what tapas actually are.

And I don’t blame them. It’s flat out confusing. So, I made this video to try and explain what – after four years in Spain – I think tapas are. And to give you my three hard-won tips for going out for tapas like a local.

 

The hottest patatas bravas in Madrid

They’re utterly ubiquitous and invariably average. Patatas bravas are a Spanish bar staple of supposed spicy red sauce over crunchy cubes of double-fried potatoes. Yet while the name (“brave potatoes”) promises an in-mouth hot-sauce Big Bang, a gob full of stock standard salsa brava usually winds up as little more than an insipid, ketchupy whimper.

Until now. Brava deliverance is here and it’s within retching distance of the Plaza Mayor. The tasca in question is La Villa del Pescadito, an establishment so impossibly narrow, so unceremoniously mashed between two cavernous bars, that it avoids detection by the all but the hungriest human eye. In fact, once I’d discovered it, I feared I may not find it again. Was it a dream?

Anyway, I stumbled into La Villa del Pescadito with a hunger hole that only a plate of fried starch could fill. And content to quickly down a pile of utilitarian bravas and be on my way, I ordered a plate from Paco (I think that’s his name). Paco’s wife does all the cooking, but Paco makes the brava sauce. And he’s a proud father.

Fiery gobs of true-blue brava sauce

Fiery gobs of true-blue brava sauce

The perfectly-fried potatoes wore deep red, chunky, peppery, vinegary wads and even to my self-styled sturdy palate, this sauce was hot, delivering that lingering and long-missed mouth burn and nose run. Don’t expect to tear up – they’re not that hot. But for Madrid’s timid palate, these little taters are seismic.

I complemented Paco on his sauce and we briefly discussed the sorry state of bravas in Madrid. Paco said that a true brava sauce does not contain tomatoes (his doesn’t) and that many bars simply blend commercial ketchup with tabasco. Madre mia.

So if you’ve got a hankering for the hottest patatas bravas in Madrid, hit up Paco and let me know what you think (also, let me know if his name’s not Paco).

James Blick

A tasty pit-stop in Madrid’s Antón Martín market

Two things I adore in this world: bars and markets. Each is a great leveller; a place where people crowd together, drawn by the most basic human needs – food, booze and the chance to see and be seen. In Madrid, Antón Martín is one of my favourite markets; its aisles are packed with traditional booths manned by lippy vendors hawking jamón, cheese and Galician beef and its modern stalls do everything from fresh sushi to craft beer and LPs. And like all Spanish markets (in fact, like all of Spain), there is a bar or two.

Chef Omaira at Bar Omaira, Antón Martín market, Madrid

Omaira, in her tiny bar side kitchen.

Tiny and family-run, Antón Martín’s Bar Omaira is run by Omaira – chef, hostess and a lovely lady to boot. She whips up a few different dishes each day, fusing Madrid’s culinary traditions, her own Venezuelan background and injecting it all with modern verve. There’s no menu as such, simply ask what’s fresh and eat what she’s prepared. Last time we swung by, Yoly and I sipped excellent albariño by the glass, ate a free tapa of ensaladilla rusa (one of the best I’ve had – with celery and mustard to give it the zing this dish usually lacking), and ordered grilled pork with a perfectly-balanced blue-cheese sauce and a naughty but nice chicken schnitzel sandwich doused in not-too-sweet BBQ sauce.

Albariño wine, ensaladilla rusa at Bar Omaira, Antón Martín market, Madrid

Grilled pork and blue cheese at Bar Omaira, Antón Martín market, Madrid

And if you’ve got a taste for offal, you’ve hit the entail jackpot. Omaira’s hubby Luís runs one of the city’s best casquerías (offal stalls) one aisle over, and Omaira is a whizz with the stuff. She always has a pot of gluggy, delicious callos a la madrileña on the go, and regularly prepares dishes featuring hearts, livers and rooster crests et al. Got a hankering for grilled pigs’ ear or something done with brains? If Omaira’s got the time, she’ll nip over to Luis, bring back the goods and cook it up for you.

Iván at Bar Omaira, Antón Martín market, Madrid

Omaira’s chipper nephew Iván works the bar.

Remember: you’re in a market, so this is not a night spot. Check their Facebook page for  hours. And hit up Bar Omaira mid-shop (many of your fellow patrons will have a shopping cart in one hand, a caña in the other), or roll up on a Saturday morning when the Antón Martín is buzzing with pre-prandial barflies who feel less like drunkards if they’re drinking in a market.

And if you’re keen to make a day of it, one aisle over is DondeSánchez, a wine bar run by Paz (ask to try her excellent cured goats cheese from Madrid).

James Blick

 

Marisquería La Paloma – Fresh seafood in La Latina

A selection of seafood at Marisquería La Paloma, La Latina, Madrid

Calle Toledo is one of those streets. Gagging with fumey traffic, lined with a grungy potpourri of odd-bod shops, internet cafes, open-all-hours fruit stores and bars so crusty, so unkempt, that a dose of life-changing botulism is virtually guaranteed.

But there are a few surprises. Enter Marisquería La Paloma. Like all good castizo Madrid bars, these guys do one thing, and they do it well. Here it’s seafood. Behind the aluminium bar, fresh anchovies soak in briny tubs and whole crabs are stacked belly to back. The short menu includes oysters, cockles, gooseneck barnacles and langoustines, each sold by weight and served variously fresh, pickled or grilled in a jiffy.

What did we try? Take a gander at the photo above. The whole anchovies in vinegar (gutted, deboned and sans head) were fabulously fat and sharp (we were given two as a free tapa). The clams were subtle (you’re eating a live clam, without adornments) and weren’t cheap (€7 for a small handful). The langoustines a la plancha were plump, salty and sweet (€3.5 for 5) – remember to suck the brains out… it makes you smarter (relatively speaking).

The prices are fair for fresh seafood in La Latina. Any cheaper and you either live seaside or are risking a 12-hour session driving the porcelain bus (a nearby establishment with a long-standing offer of ultra-cheap razor clams always gives me the heebie-jeebies).

What to drink? In bygone days, Madrid bars were divided into those that served wine and cured meats and cheeses, and those that did seafood and beer. At a bar like this, functional, no frills, standing-room only and unchanged for decades, it’s best to cling to tradition. Stick with cañas (beer on tap) or vermouth.

Nowadays eateries dabble in a bit everything. What will it be, sir? A pickled anchovy, an aged ox-steak or a red-hot poker up the jacksy? The beauty of specialisation is that establishments like Paloma know their supplier, know their product and know how to prepare it. And, what’s more, specialty bars are the lifeblood of a successful tapas crawl. Start with beer and seafood here, the hit Casa Dani for wine, jamón and manchego, before winding up chez Almacén de Vinos for a hot leak and mushroom tosta.

La Latina, as the old sea shanty goes, is your oyster.

Marisquería La Paloma
Calle Toledo, 85
913 65 31 3
Closed Wednesdays

James Blick

 

Review: Is Bahía Taberna worth the hike?

Boiled beetroot dish at Bahía Taberna, Madrid restaurant

Some restaurants are a two-minute walk from home. Easy, comfortable, local. Others are a destination. A pilgrimage. If foreplay begins with the first course, then for a restaurant on the other side of town, the first course begins the moment you leap on the Metro.

And, unless you live out by the airport, Bahía Taberna is a trek. But I’d been told young co-founder and head chef Daniel Vangoni was cooking up creative, interesting and reasonably-priced food. So we humped out on a dark, cold November day.

The restaurant was a beacon in the gloom. Bright, warm and zinging with conversation. The comfortable clatter of cooking drifted from the open kitchen.

Our waitress – lively and knowledgable – suggested the tasting menu (there are also raciones and pinchos) and we submitted, deciding to push the boat out. For each course there were two options, and in each case we ordered one of each.

First up, a cocktail. Of sorts. Two mugs of spicy, rich mulled wine. A brew so heady the fumes made me gag. It bode well.

And then the food. The thick, earthy mushroom broth (a go-to seasonal dish that’s so often cocked up) was bang on. The small beetroot in a spicy sauce wasn’t very spicy, or very interesting. The baby peas with burrata was fresh, clean and sharp. The grilled scallop was, well, a perfectly fine grilled scallop.

Award-wining pizza, Taberna Bahía, Madrid restaurant

Next, the pizza. The waitress mentioned – unfortunately – that the pizza had won an award at Madrid Fusión 2012. Expectations ballooned and it sounded naff hearing that the slice of pizza we were about to eat had won an award. It was a piece of so-so focaccia with sobrasada, grilled zucchini, baby squid and a few other bits and bobs. Sadly, it didn’t add up to much more than the sum of its parts. Nice but not award-winning.

The dishes kept on coming. Each good, but none a knock-out. The slow-baked cod, the raw mackerel on a spring roll, the lamb and the steak tartare were all fine, with elements that were very good. But each dish lacked that extra touch, that inspired twist, that element of surprise that burns a mouthful on the memory. And the meal lacked consistency – the burrata with peas was delicious, the cod neither here nor there, the lamb fabulously flavourful but unfortunately lukewarm.

Steak tartare, Taberna Bahía, Madrid restaurant

Am I being too harsh? Maybe. This is a very good neighbourhood restaurant serving creative, fresh, seasonal dishes. The space is beautiful, the service was casual but razor-sharp and there are clearly talented people in the kitchen. But I left feeling frustrated. The food – close to being great – ultimately came off a little tame. A little underwhelming.

Was it worth it? At €110, including wine pairings, the meal was a fair price.

Would I go back? If Bahía Taberna were in central Madrid, I’d swing by for raciones and a drink. But I’m in no rush to make another pilgrimage.

www.bahiataberna.com
Calle Bahía de Palma, 9
Metro: Alameda de Osuna (line 5)

James Blick

Best places to eat in the Rastro flea market, Madrid

It’s Sunday morning in Madrid. And you have a choice. You could head to mass and beg forgiveness for whatever godforsaken things got up to the night before. Or you could head for the Rastro – the city’s sprawling flea market – and tie another one on.

Many people think the Rastro is about shopping. Oh no. It’s about eating and drinking. But where are the best places to eat in the Rastro? Watch, learn and drool.

James Blick

The 6 Best Wine Bars in Madrid (…where it’s OK to be a Wine Dick) – Part 1

A wine list at Vides wine bar in Madrid

Six weeks ago I became a Wine Dick.

It all happened rather quickly. Though, looking back, I should have seen it coming. In September Lauren Aloise and I completed the Level 2 Wines and Spirits course (under the WSET banner, and delivered by the astute wine prof Elisa Errea at The Wine Studio). The idea? Offer wine tastings through Madrid Food Tour.

The unfortunate effect? I now linger like a deviant in wine bars, I kill time creeping about wine shops and, worst of all, I’ve opened an account over at CellarTracker. I know, disgusting.

But I’ve also realised something. Central Madrid – with its glut of taverns serving wines of  questionable quality by the glass – can be a cruel place for Wine Nazis. And being an unshaven Wine Loiterer with limited means, I rarely splurge on a whole bottle.

So I wondered: where are the best wine bars in Madrid? And I’m talking about central Mardrid… Sure, you could head to Goya or Salamanca where they hand out magnums of Pingus at the traffic lights. Where young Pakistani men sell bottles of Vega Sicilia atop cardboard boxes in the street at midnight. But I’m a dyed-in-the-wool Lavapiésian, and I want good wine by the glass within walking distance. Is that wrong?

So, assume the position. Because I’ve jury-rigged a list of six very central wine sanctuaries where one can drink good wine by the glass. They offer a home away from home for my fellow Wine Pricks. They’re bars where we can swirl, sniff and slurp without fear of humiliation or public ridicule. Where we can order interesting drops by the glass, safe in the knowledge that the bottle hasn’t been open and oxidising for seven days and nights.

So here it is… Where to drink wine in Madrid. This list is not exhaustive. But it’s a start.

De Vinos This gloriously unstuffy neighbourhood tasca feels like it opened a century ago (rather than 2012). Even the name smacks of the days when names simply described what a place did, rather than tried to evoke “a concept”. Hostess Yolanda loves wine, and keeps a good cellar. She also organises tastings, excursions and wine/food pairing evenings.
www.facebook.com/vinos.devinos
Calle La Palma, 76

Vides A recent opening by former dating game host Vicente (you’ll recognise his face when you see it… if you’re Spanish). Numerous wines by the glass (and bottle) and a broad selection of Spanish cheeses in a very relaxed, slightly rustic and generally un-wine-bar-y atmosphere (which is a plus). Vicente even serves a bottle of his father’s own white – ask for it.
www.vinotecavides.com
Calle Libertad, 12

Díaz y Larrouy Low key, low bar. Very low. It only comes up to your knees. There’s no wine list, just bottles stacked on the counter. So part of the fun is browsing and seeing what’s what. Or just ask. Nice tostas too (I tried a fabulously arsey boar pâté here, which paired perfectly with a sharp-as-tacks Ribera del Duero… at least I think it was Ribera del Duero… and, come to think of it, I’m not even sure it was boar pâté…).
Calle Cava Baja, 6

Taberneros The owners of Tabernos are infamous for being a little prickly. But balls to that! You’re a trumped-up tough-skinned Wine Tart. And despite the attitude, this is one of the best wine bars in Madrid. So bowl on in, prop up the bar and enjoy their smart selection of vino by copa, in luxuriantly vinous surrounds.
restaurantetaberneros.es
Calle Santiago, 9

Casa Gonzalez. Given this place is odds on to win ‘most picturesque tapas bar facade in Madrid’, it’s a good thing these guys back up all the beauty with a healthy by-the-glass list. What’s more, there’s a glut of cured meats and cheeses (both local and international) available in raciones and half raciones… so you can pair your pants off.
casagonzalez.es
Calle León, 12

Casa Gonzalez, a Madrid tapas and wine bar at night, a Madrid tapas and wine bar at night

Casa Gonzalez looks like something out of Vicky Christina Madrid.

Sanlúcar. When you’re wondering where to drink wine in Madrid, you’d be forgiven for forgetting sherry-temple Sanlúcar. But yes, sherry is wine. And this slice of the south, tucked away in the back pocket of La Latina, has some excellent sherries by the glass. Manzanilla, oloroso and amontillado – it’s all here. They’ve even got a true-blue palo cortado. And a smorgasbord of weeping Virgins behind the bar. (By the way: I know I mentioned Sanlúcar in the last post… I promise to leave it alone for a little while).
Calle de San Isidro Labrador, 14

OK. I know you’re thinking, “Crap! He didn’t include [insert your favourite wine bar here].” And you’re right. I didn’t. But I also left out several places I love in my attempt to trim the list down to six. But add a comment below about a place I might not know about, and I’ll check it out. And then I’ll write Part 2. Because wine, as you know, is a journey… a long and winding tempranillo-lined goat track…  See! I told you I’d become a Wine Dick!

James Blick

Review: El Apartamento

Bar in El Apartamento, Madrid restaurant bar

I like a man who’s frank. And Daniel was graphically so. Within minutes of sitting down in El Apartamento, the restaurant near Puerta del Sol that he recently opened with four friends, we were discussing childbirth. Specifically, his wife’s upcoming parturition. But rather than put us off our beef cheek, his easy-going personality paired perfectly with his restaurant: modern, relaxed, light – the kind of place that can swing both ways: sharing plates at the bar with friends, or a sit-down meal with the in-laws.

I glanced at the menu and liked the mix as well as the prices. Daniel suggested we try four dishes: the croquetas and the foie to start, then the carrillera de ternera (stewed beef cheek) and caballa en escabeche (mackerel in brine).

Let’s cut to the chase.

I’ve never been a big champion of the sacred croqueta – like the tortilla de patata it’s a Spanish comfort food that’s regularly overrated and usually disappointing. But these ones were excellent – creamy with strong, sharp flavours (we were served a selection of jamón, mushroom and goat cheese and caramelised onion croquets).

Croquetas de jamón, mushroom, goat cheese and caramelised onion

Yep, they’re croquetas. Good one too.

The foie – caramelised on its wee head and served with side of apple and pear jam – was a touch too sweet.

Caramelised foie with apple and pear jam.

Foie (and my wife Yoly’s polkadot fan).

But the carrillera de ternera rolled back the years, sitting me at my grandmother’s   table. It had a wonderfully meaty flavour, and collapsed under our forks. Delicious.

Beef cheek at El Apartamento, Madrid restaurant bar

Bang-on beef cheek.

The caballa en escabeche was intriguing, but didn’t totally work. The vinegar overpowered. A smaller serving would have been better.

Caballa en escabeche/mackerel in brine at El Apartamento, Madrid restaurant bar

Caballa en escabeche/mackerel in brine – €13.50

Finally, one of the waitresses suggested carrot cake for dessert (€5.00). Baking, and specifically baking carrot cakes, has become desperately trendy in Madrid. And, as it is with any food tainted by trend, most of the cakes are piss poor – too spongy or too dry. Happily though, El Apartamento’s cake was among the best I’ve had in the capital.

So, where does that leave us? The dishes that were good were very good and there’s something beguiling about El Apartamento, something drawing me back. The menu strikes a balance between dishes you know and dishes you’d like to get to know. There are plates for sharing, plates for individuals, and a number of dishes are available as half portions. You can grab a table, or simply sip and pick at the bar. The space is inviting and the location, five minutes by foot from Sol, is ideal.

Dining room in El Apartamento, Madrid restaurant bar

That’s Yoly, my wife. Though she looks bored, she’s actually having the time of her life.

Also, for hot and hungry tourists, the €14 lunch menú del día (three courses, plus wine) makes El Apartamento an excellent entre-museum stop for reasonbly-priced, modern Spanish food.

Verdict: I’ll be back as a paying customer.

Disclosure: My meal was paid for by the restaurant.

Calle Ventura de la Vega, 9
917 554 402
www.el-apartamento.es
Metros: Sol, Sevilla

James Blick

The Madrid craft beer revolution (and the best craft beer bars)

The battle lines have been drawn. Madrid – too long awash with sub-par beer – is in the midst of a craft brew revolution. For years Madrilenians have been weaned on Mahou, the ubiquitous local industrial drop, and as such the capital lacks a robust beer culture. But over the last two years a number of bright young beer things have been launching craft beer bars, breweries and shops citywide. And bit by bit they’re changing the way the capital drinks.

Here are my five favourite craft beer bars in Madrid.

FÁBRICA MARAVILLAS

A glass of beer in Madrid's (and perhaps Spain's) best brewpub

Madrid’s (and perhaps Spain’s) best brewpub

Ah, Fábrica Maravillas. An oasis of fresh beer just five minutes from Puerta del Sol. Run by a passionate posse of seven Malasaña residents, this place opened in late 2012 and was recently voted best brewpub in Spain by ratebeer.com. By day brewmaster Dave (part American, part Spanish) cooks out back and after dark the timbered, luminous space teems with beer geeks and beautiful people. They do several beers, from a fruity saison to a quadruple called “Bastard”. Check out the curious moss feature by a local French artist – it’s about the closest you’ll get to a biergarten in Madrid.

IRREALE

Bartender Javi at Irreale bar, Madrid

A one-man-band behind Irreale’s bar, beer blogger-cum bartender Javi has learned to haul arse.

A brief stumble from Fábrica Maravillas, Irreale was the first craft beer-only bar in the city. The space is long and deliciously dark and the burnished bar shines up the back like a beacon. Head for it. English-speaking beer blogger and home-brewer Raúl works the six taps and curates the regularly rotating list. A passionate localist, he makes sure there’s at least a pair of Spanish brews spilling out at any one time. If you need to soak up the hops, a brief menu offers small plates of hot food to share (I haven’t tried the nosh so can’t comment on quality, but the eclectic range runs from jamon ibérico to German sausages, by the way of mini hamburgers and Mexican tacos).

ANIMAL

Food, wine and beer menu at ANIMAL beer bar in Madrid

Craft beer & picar (“nibble”) at ANIMAL, plus wine for the faint-hearted.

UPDATE 11/09/2014: Friends and countrymen, apparently Animal has closed. What a shame. I’ll leave the text below so at least you can see what it was like… 😉

Chef, beer guru, sommelier – is there anything Tibor Domenech doesn’t do? Talk, apparently. The first time I met the multitalented Catalonian behind ANIMAL (yes, it’s written in caps) he’d completely lost his voice. Something to do with the cold weather, I think he said. But it didn’t matter – his food and beer selection spoke for itself. More gastropub than simple beer bar, Tibor combines the best Spanish and international crafts (nine rotating taps, a big bottle list) with a seasonal tapas menu. He’s usually on site juggling bar and kitchen, so ask for pairing recommendations and don’t be shy to check whether he has a tasty off-menu morsel on the cooker that day.

EL PEDAL

A bottle of Thor on a table outside of Madrid craft beer bar El Pedal

God I wish it was summer already. (Thor is by Madrid brewery Lest, and this is El Pedal’s afternoon sun-drenched terrace).

El Pedal is a double entendre, meaning both the bit on the bike where you plant your foot (Javi, the owner, is a bike nut) as well as local argot for getting well soused. Cosy, low-key and very barrio Lavapiés (hand-painted wall murals, furniture made from recycled wood and a collection jar for the local people’s assembly) this place is a band apart from the more consciously trendy craft bars in the capital. And that’s what I love about it. Plus, when summer rolls around, you can drink under a canopy of Japanese acacia trees – these guys have the only craft-beer terrace in the capital. And if after a couple you’re feeling inspired, the Reina Sofía is just five minutes up the street.

LA TAPE

La Tape, craft beer bar in Madrid.

The new kid on the block (at the time of writing…)

La Tape is the new kid on the beer block. A wad of cash has clearly been spent on the fit-out, and the two-storey bar-slash-restaurant is a big, beguiling and colourful place to drink. There’s a sit-down restaurant upstairs, a bar downstairs and a rather excellent piece of tangled light-bulb art dangling between both floors. During the day a takeaway window operates from the downstairs deli, serving lunches and crafts to go. Sadly, for all the effort, the food may be a little remiss. I’ve only eaten in La Tape once and the upshot was a tough, burnt piece of octopus and a lacklustre apricot pastry. But the 7-tap beer selection is excellent and the English-speaking beer mistress is knowledgable and happy to advise newbies. Also, this is the only Madrid craft beer bar with a hand pump (what the heck is a hand pump?).

Well, there she is. Happy drinking. And keep in mind most of these bars sell their beer to go in growlers (what on earth is a growler?).

If you’re keen to read more about these five joints, plus discover a couple of Madrid craft beer shops, I’ve written and photographed a mini-guide called “Madrid Thru Craft Beer Goggles”. It’s available for €0.89 through the Minube smartphone app. I swear none of the proceeds will go towards industrial beer.

James Blick