Well, I think I’ve sufficiently recovered from the epic Hot Cross Bun tasting, to attempt another Best in Melbourne post.
Footy finals are approaching, so I thought perhaps “Best Meat Pie” might be a handy thing to know before your Grand Final party.
Suggestions, please, as to which pies ought to be included in the tasting? I’m thinking we’d better stick with the basic meat pie, for consistency’s sake.
Yes, I know, I haven’t posted in forever. No, I wasn’t being lazy, I was totally eating stuff. In Spain. It was RESEARCH.
I had two weeks over there, including Barcelona, Seville, Granada and San Sebastian. I ate my bodyweight in jamon, and drank so much Rioja that my liver threatened a walkout. I managed to get by with my three beginner’s-classes-worth of Spanish, plus my trusty Lonely Planet phrasebook (although still managed some spectacular faux-pas, such as ordering toast with “donkey” instead of butter).
How was the food? Well, pretty good, and VERY cheap compared to Melbourne. But not mind-blowing. Mostly it was pretty rustic, and actually that was when it was at its best – a simple plate of the best jamon, some crusty bread, and a big bowl of hot pimientos de Padrón.
Enough talking. LET’S GET TO THE FOOD PORN.
Where I saw some markets that crap all over the Queen Vic; spent 20 euro on a “famous” roast chicken dish that turned out to be pretty much the same as the hot chicken place in Clifton Hill; and discovered that pig’s trotters, for all their nose-to-tail foodie chic, are pretty much just fat and skin. Oh, and ate a lot of fried little fishies.
Seville: where we managed to eat three meals a day, despite nobody speaking any English (which is fair enough, it is Spain after all) and there being no menu in half the tapas bars. There was a lot of pointing at other people’s food. Oh, and there are chips with EVERYTHING. I also ate caracoles (snails), which are far more disturbing-looking than the French escargot. They had little faces and antennae. I kept waiting for one of them to yell “UNFAIR TO SNAILS!!” like Gus from Mr Squiggle.
Granada: where they have free tapas. Yep, you order a beer, they bring you food. Our favourite place was Bodega Castaneda.
Where I found my happy place. It’s like Paris, only smaller and cuter, and by the sea. Oh, and cheaper. We ate pintxos (Basque for tapas) pretty much every night; everyone recommended me to go to La Cuchara de San Telmo, which I liked but wasn’t blown away by. We had an amazing three-course lunch at Kaskazuri – spectacular food, wine and coffee included, for 24 euro a head. Unbelievable.
Does anyone have a recipe for tarta de queso? I don’t like cheesecake, but I loooooved the light gooey Spanish version – particularly at La Viña.
Food-loving Melbourne gal with annoying habit of critiquing everything she eats. Encouraged by friends to either shut up or tell someone who cares... hopefully you, dear reader.