Welllllllllll....where to start? Unromantic as it is, I'll start here: I just got an email from trusty cohort Papa J-Kim which said, among other things, something to the effect of it looking like I "spent a fortune on lush snackies" in Spain. Aside from the fact that "I" was not doing most of the spending, this is one of the amazing things about Spain: if you're eating tapas, you really have to exert yourself if you want to spend a fortune on food. OR (as we'll see), you have to make a bad Plan B after your Plan A is closed that day under mysterious circumstances, a scenario which seems to be the most likely reason by far that you would either eat badly or expensively or both.
Some examples: I think our favorite meal of the week was a lunch at Bodeguita Romero in Sevilla. In addition to wonderfully polite and efficient service, we had: a plate of homemade potato salad with vinegar and scallions; two bocadillos (just a little sandwich, ideally on toasted, crunchy bread) one with a good stinky roquefort and one with their celebrated pringa (blood sausage and pulled pork), €1.50 each; a plate of cumin-y stewed chickpeas and spinach; albondigas de choco (ehhh, cuttlefish meatballs, the Spanish sounds quite a bit better, no?). And four glasses of really good tinto de verano (red wine and lemon soda over ice). Total bill: €23.70. In Amsterdam you'd pay that much for the four drinks.
The "nicest" meal we had was probably at La Brunilda in Sevilla (an excellent Plan B, after La Azotea was mysteriously closed and our feet were totally destroyed so we were desperate for something close by), receipt pictured above, meal pictured below. A slightly-too-giant piece of burrata with a very smart and delicious salad of homemade pesto, oven-dried tomatoes, fresh tomatoes and arugula cost €5.50. I'm sure that in most cities you would be hard-pressed to find a giant piece of burrata for that price in the grocery store, much less at a "nice" restaurant. A lovely bowl of Idiazabal and wild mushroom risotto for €4.70. I had a delicious fucking (difficult to attractively photograph) langostino burger for €3.70, you can barely find a falafel for that price in Amsterdam. I'm just saying: it no make no sense.
And in the Department of Cultural Stereotypes: I have fewer complaints about the Spanish than I do about almost anywhere else I've ever been. Fun, polite, passionate nightowls who enjoy a good nap and don't live to work.
This is an often-NSFW, mostly gluten-free kitchen notebook that also occasionally threatens to turn into something else and fails, thus remaining its same old cryptic and superficial self. These posts begin to fail to explain (start at the bottom).