Elemental Madrid

"Look at the map of Iberia. It is like a taut bull's skin, crisscrossed by the paths left by men and women whose voices and faces we in Spanish American dimly perceive." – Fuentes, from The Buried Mirror










Before you meet your guide for a first foray into tapas in Madrid, there are images of long dark streets full of pulsing bars and all other sorts of eateries; or maybe longer yet calles, bright and elegant, showing the same numbers of people but by brightly lit windows, perhaps along the Grand villa. And then you meet your guide in your own hotel and he is quite enthusiastic, Australian by origin, but speaks a variety of languages, one of them certainly Spanish. The small district that we walk to is the so called Bohemian Arts district, but indeed there is nothing that strikes you as particularly Bohemian, but instead it is quite regularly beautiful, the small tapas hubs crafted in deep woods and advertises by artful signs. We sit in the back end of one as a Spanish crowd nibbles at smoked salmon and Iberian jason. Small cold glasses of cerveza are handed out at an intensely fast pace and the regulars, who no doubt know the bartenders well, do nothing much more than raise their glasses and make brief eye contact and there is another and then another landed on the table. "The jamon here is all from nearby farms. The Spanish take their jamon very seriously and this is probably the most common tapas that you will ever find." Those thin slices are layered across the plate and, even despite the chewiness of the fat, eats so well – much like raw bacon – that it creates a certain kind of craving that can only be satisfied by the cerveza in the other hand. We tried the dried salmon over a simple white cheese similar to mozzarella and then some stuffed olives. The tapas culture seemed so elemental and obvious once you began that night's ordering and sampling. Because the entire table tends to order the same tapas, you have something so easily to talk and comment about as you sit and await the next one in order. They are both light but with enough substance that you are not drinking on an empty stomach but you are also not going to get so full as to want to end the evening as a result of a bloated stomach. We went to two other tapas bars, tavernas, one a wine and cheese shop offering a wonderful concoction of gorgonzola, honey, olive oil. The Riojo wine became a necessary balance to the creamy subtleties of the cheeses. Our final stop was for the sweet: a thick slice of cheese cake, dashed off by a dark chocolate, and paired by a brut of sorts. We walked back past a packed jazz venue, "one of the true jazz spots in all of Europe." The district was just picking up now. It was a tuesday night. Many, including no doubt families, would not see their beds by one in the morning, only to wake up a handful of hours afterward, ready for espresso and toast.