Flamenco Birthday

To celebrate my mom's ??th birthday (let's just say it's significant), we decided to treat her to some flamenco. We took her to Tablao de Carmen (for the legendary Carmen Amaya), a cute little place located in Poble Espanyol. We did the dinner and show, and practically got front row seats. We were worried it was going to be another touristy in and out show. It partially was, but it was nothing like the big hall with tons of long tables and benches we went to in Sevilla. The intimate space was well organized so everyone got good views. Walking through Poble Espanyol at night was delightful as well. Isabel was entranced from the moment the show started. She was not expecting the vitality of the hand-clapping, foot-stomping, and singing right in front of her. She immediately started to imitate the clapping.

See a video of Isabel discovering flamenco.


Flamenco dancer. Isabel back at home. Mauricio and Grace at the Tablao.

Our Barcelona Ramble

Many folks ask us how we are enjoying the Barcelona late night ramble. Well, um, we have a two-year-old daughter, so, no, we don't really get to experience it like we did years ago as tourists. However, last night we took the opportunity to get out and see a friend's jazz performance while my mother is still in town. We invited our friend Jordi as well. We started out getting a bite to eat at 9 pm at a local Greek/Lebanese joint (the Greek yogurt here is awesome). Then we set out to look for the Sala Monasterio (clearly unmarked!) down by the sea and enjoyed two hours of Frederique's jazz trio plus guest guitarist. They played jazz standards and some of Frederique's compositions.

We then walked over towards the famous Rambla, cutting through the Raval. We caught sight of "Sidra & Cabrales." As I had a yen for this very rich and dense Spanish blue cheese (which I have yet to have since we moved here), we stopped in. Not surprisingly, Jordi knows someone who is also hanging out. Unlike other more upscale Asturian bars where the waiters pour sidra (cider) from a huge barrel with grace and flair, we are served the sidra from a bottle and are given one glass to share (the more traditional way). The pour starts out high, and any liquid not making it into the glass falls into a small barrel bucket on the floor by our feet. The cabrales was excellent and we also ordered chorizos with sidra as well before we headed out again.

As it was St. Paddy's Day, the streets were filled with green-hatted revelers (forgot to take a pix of that). We then walked through many winding streets, with young men approaching us with 6-packs of beer. We passed through the Plaça Reial, where it was packed, and then made it over to the Rambla. We finally found the bar Jordi wanted to take us to, The Black Sheep. We were asked for documents, not for our age, but for security! The place was huge, with many college-age students flirting with each other, of course. After a few American-sized pints (I had a pacharan instead), we headed out to catch a cab home. By this time it was 2:3o am, and we took a cab home (the metros close at 2am). Felt like my old days of hanging out in the East Village!

To see more photos, including the bucket, click here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/barceluna/sets/72157600007185695

Our First Calçotada

We've been hearing about the calçotada for ages, but never actually experienced it — until today that is! What is the calçotada? No, they are not socks (that's calçats). They are a type of onion, (as you can see from the picture) like a leek, that is roasted over an open fire and eaten with a special sauce. Sure, we tried them at restaurants, but it's just not the same as we now know. What's more, we were invited to a privately held one. A group of musicians had a bit of a windfall so they decided to throw a calçotada, and invited us. There was also a German/Ecuadorian woman who is in Catalunya for a few months studying a Catalan pianist/composer. We converged at a farmhouse belonging to the family of one of the members. It even had olive trees on it (which farmhouse out here doesn't??).

With a gorgeous day as a backdrop, we watched the team cut up and place the calçots on the fire to grill them. As there were many, it took a while. We set up a long table with a couple of benches and sat down to wait. Meanwhile, Francesc, who made the calçot sauce, started spooning it into individual cups. The primary ingredient in the sauce is roasted almonds, chopped down to a paste, with tomatoes, lots of olive oil, roasted garlic (raw garlic would be too strong) and other secret ingredients that vary by chef. Finally the time came to eat: the guys brought the calçots wrapped in newspaper packets. I kept waiting for everyone to sit down. Instead, they moved the benches out of the way! We were to stand as we ate. No fineries here.

How to eat a calçot:
1) peel the outer grilled skin off in one fell swoop
2) dip the calçot into the sauce
3) tip back your head and eat as much as you can bite off (some of them can be fibery)

I was amazed at how tender and great they tasted. We all just tore into them until they were all gone, and ended up with black hands. But if this wasn't enough, it was back to the grill to cook up lots of meat. I didn't really eat the ribs, but I pulled a piece of sausage for Isabel and tasted it myself to make sure it wasn't too spicy. I was surprised at how tasty and fresh it was (this coming from me!!!) Truth be told, I went back for many more pieces for myself.

We ended the meal with a dessert called the Gypsy's Arm — a yellow-sponge roulade filled with a deliciously fresh cream with hints of lemon, and topped that off with a variety of liquers, such as one made from chamomile, as well as coffee from a thermos. Then we had to rush back to catch the train as my mom was returning from Germany. Unfortunately, it was a packed train as a large school group was travelling together, and we had to stand or sit on the floor. But that didn't detract from how wonderful it was to be in the outdoors all day. As was mentioned during the meal, the Catalans spend a lot of time eating. I don't have any problem with that.

Francesc's sauce and Jordi showing how to dip the calçot in the sauce.


Mauricio's first calçot. Antonella's a pro after putting a few down.


The remains of the calçots and the black hands.


Isabel fell asleep right before the calçots hit the table, but I had to throw at least one pix in of her day on the farm. We have to get her out more often. At first, she kept running to me saying "Scared." I guess I would be too if the weeds came up to my shoulders!


See more pictures at www.flickr.com/photos/barceluna/sets/72157594582920042/

Tarragona Adventure: Guest Blogger

Our friends Anthony and Dayle are in town visiting us this week. As I thought, they are amazed at how big and diverse Barcelona is, and every sight pretty much exceeds their expectations. Yesterday we went out of town to Tarragona and Sitges. I'll let Anthony describe it and give a little different perspective. But first, we had a spectacular day, with quite an adventure at the end as we didn't know if we would be able to get home! Anthony will explain why:

We headed out to Tarragona -- the Roman capital of the province of Iberia -- yesterday morning via commuter rail. The trip NORMALLY takes a little over an hour and we enjoyed a lovely tour along the Costa Dorada (Golden Coast) traveling right along the Mediterranean the entire time. So how bad could it be?

Naturally first glance in Tarragona was up an endless flight of steps from the station down by the beaches so we had to pop in to café for some caffeine -- I mean, coffee. We have fallen into the habit of grabbing bocadillos –- sandwiches on crusty bread. We have both fallen in love with the local jamón, which is exactly like Italian prosciutto - the raw, smoked kind we pay so much for in The States. And from café to café the tastes and origins of the meats, cheeses and vegetables change so much it’s like eating a completely different meal each time we get one. Catalonians have the habit of spreading an extremely flavorful thin thin thin veneer of “tomato” (sort of the way we use mustard only much less quantity) on their bread. This goes back to the time when bread would get hard and crusty really quickly and the moisture would soften it up. Well, it’s good!

Tarragona is full of Roman ruins and we even got to see some of them (in between meals). They are everywhere. You walk into a little shop and the sidewall has roman arches or a pilaster or an inscpription popping out of the wall. People in Tarragona regularly find busts and fragments in their basements and gardens when doing renovations and they’ve taken to just dropping them off at the archaeology museum in the middle of the night. Otherwise the government would intervene and conduct a serious dig and turn their lives into a nightmare.

Anyway, we wandered past the edge of the HUGE circus where the chariot races were held. This little corner (the rest of it is under the town) indicates how important this place was during Roman times. We walked past a grand wall of SOMETHING with pilasters, which became the side of a count’s castle in the 13th Century and is now part of the museum. Then we wandered down tiny streets with medieval houses built atop HUGE square-cut stones from temples and basilicas and what-have-you.

We then jumped ahead a thousand years and visited Tarragona Cathedral –- a simply stunning structure spanning the 13th through 18th centuries. Historians believe the original cathedral was a Visigoth structure slipped into the remains of a pagan temple and then enlarged and enhanced through the years. The cloister was a delight (photo), especially because it just kept getting warmer and warmer (we topped out at 24 degrees Celsius -– 75.2 in Fahrenheit) and we spent a few delightful hours with audio guides in hand studying the wonderful grotesques, devils, medieval workers, saints, stained glass and paintings in this must-see attraction (and taking LOTS of photos).

And then came lunch – Mauricio & Antonella’s friends Cristina and Francesc, who live about 20 minutes away by car -- joined us. We went to El Llugat (we think that’s a type of fishing boat), nestled inside a medieval structure built atop the law courts of the Roman city. We ordered a wonderful mixed antipasto to sample their offerings – sardines in oil and peppercorns, boquerones (another kind of sardine in vinegar instead of oil), muscles in a salty broth and delightful little shrimp just exploding with flavor. Then we moved on to the main courses.

We ordered their specialties: fideuas –- angel-hair noodles pan-fried in a seafood base with added chunks of fish, in this case, squid; arros amb crank -– a risotto cooked with teeny tiny Mediterranean crabs just exploding with flavor (you sucked out the meat) and caldo de mar –- a fish stew of local types including sea snails, muscles, clams and fish chunks. All these dishes were cooked with a dense, dark succulent base of herbs and spices that I would guess had an African origin. Nothing tomato-eey or oregano-eey Italianesque here, but DELICIOUS!

I don’t want to get too boring so I’ll just mention that we climbed to the top of the afore-mentioned castle during the afternoon siesta and enjoyed a spectacular view of the Old Town, the sea and the Roman amphitheatre snuggled into a cove right at the water’s edge. We definitely want to return to Tarragona someday and get to know the city better. The modern town looks great as well.

We had an appointment for that evening in the nearby seaside resort of Sitges to meet with Jordina Biosta Soler (everyone has two last names in this part of the world), an enormously talented “story-teller” for lack of a better word, who weaves tales of saints and traditional historical figures into captivating dramatic presentations. Mauricio plays various types of tambourines while she performs, adding sound effects and wonderful rhythms to her presentations. They wanted me to videotape a couple of pieces to develop a demo for them and we worked on the steps of a fourteenth century hospital on top of a hill by the sea. It was night by this time and magical. An earlier stroll along the beachfront didn’t hurt, either (photo). Dayle’s bud Jordi lives in Sitges, so he joined us and showed us the best places for caffeine in coffee and chocolate forms. A sort of Malibu on the Mediterranean. And we hear this is just the tip of the iceberg. They don’t call it the Costa Dorada for nothing.

So, as I said, it was a PERFECT day, until we learned of the breakdowns in the train system (they're talking sabotage!) and the subsequent demonstrations by angry riders in downtown Barcelona protesting the terrible way the train authority handled the mess. They succeeded in completely blocking the tracks in an important downtown hub (OUR station -- oh no!) and made the situation much worse. Luckily, we kept each other entertained, relaxed and just stuck it out. And we were able to get cabs at the edge of the city (one young man kindly offered the baby his), which had us home tired and relieved before 1:30.

Here is a news report on the train incident (in Spanish).


At the El Llugat restaurant in Tarragona


At the Sitges boardwalk


Esglesia de Sant Bartomeu i Santa Tecla in Sitges at night


On the train waiting for it to move again