Nosh Out - From Majorca to Majorca

As anyone working in the business world knows, going on vacation can be great, but the deluge of emails and back logged work can be killer when you get back. That, plus a summer semester start has been keeping me busy recently, but a friend and previous coworker of mine was in town and invited me out to dinner. She has a few rules around business travel and eating out, she has to go somewhere new and try at least one novel thing when she goes there. After some consideration, we decided on Majorca, a tapas restaurant just off Prospect Street.

American tapas restaurants seem to have slightly different offerings than Spanish tapas bars do. In Madrid or Barcelona, every tapas bar will offer patatas bravas, grilled octopus, chorizo, charred peppers, cheese, olives, jamon (cured ham), and coca (bread smeared with tomato). While I’m no tapas aficionado, I can tell you I saw those items on every menu throughout the Iberian Peninsula. American tapas bars have items reminiscent of these, but also are catered to the American pallet. Hungry, we ordered a panoply of dishes that started with a ceviche, and a grilled squid. The ceviche was served in a martini glass and was a bright mix of crab, a whitefish, onion, tomato, avocado, and citrus. Thin slices of toasted bread were served on the side and used to dip into the sour and savory concoction. After the vegetation and seafood were consumed, I drank the dregs like a soup shot, bracing and refreshing. The grilled squid came on a circular quinoa cake and was topped with picked radish, cucumber, and jalapeno. Slightly spicy, it too has a savory sour mix.

More plates came, including bacon wrapped dates, stuffed with almonds and chervre. The bacon added a crisp and salty component to the sweet and creamy perspectives of the date and the cheese. To me, it was like dessert in the middle of the meal. Papas fritas came to our table. At first glance, they were simply French fries, but the graded manchego cheese, garlic, and most of all, truffle oil, made the aroma of the fries waft across our table. The duck leg confit that came next was served with yellow lentils, the dark leg meat fell off the bone and the skin was crisp. A hint of orange peel was reminiscent of duc l’orange, evoking a French tone to the Spanish tapas.

Dessert was a house cheesecake, brought complimentary from the manager. The center was rich and decadent, and was adorned with a salted caramel sauce and fresh fruit. As my friend and I split the cake, the siren song of the cheese plate, complete with truffle honey, seduced us as well. Manchego, played the star role, but another salty cheese, cut into thin discs, was like an aged provolone that paired well with the micro greens and arugula that sat aside it.

While not exclusive to Spanish or Majorcan cuisine, Majorca put out a great meal. A big thanks to my dining partner, with whom I always have a wonderful evening. Hope to see you in Hartford again soon.

Foods From Afar - Portugal – Lisbon and Sintra

After a very early morning and a flight back to Madrid, Charlie and I parted ways. I took the metro back into Madrid and, after stashing my bag at a local hostel for 2 Euro and a free breakfast (Thank you “The Hat” hostel) at which I met some friends for the day, we roved around the city. Traveling with a friend is wonderful, but being on my own, making new friends was also refreshing. We saw the rose garden, the Prado Museum, visited a market, and that evening, I attended a bull fight. It was gruesome and I won’t go into any detail. After three stomach turning rounds, I left to retrieve my bag and took the night train to Lisbon. Over the course of the next 10 hours, I drank Super Bock (a pretty refreshing, but low alcohol beer that is everywhere in Portugal) with some other Euro-trippers and got some sleep.

We arrived early in the morning, and I checked into my hostel, having a simple breakfast of fried eggs, fruit, Portuguese bread, which were like deflated orbs, crispy on the outside, and fluffy dough on the inside, they too were ubiquitous at every bakery and sandwich shop. I made some new friends as I went on one of the free walking tours around the city. We had lunch at a local café where we ordered the three “fish of the day” plates along with a bottle of crisp vino verde, sharing everything. There was a charming old man at the table next to us, sipping glasses of port, with each refill, the waiter made a notation to his running bill etched on the paper cover of the table. Lisbon is a port town, so the fish, as expected, was quite fresh. Not quite sure what we ordered, what arrived was salmon, skin on and simply grilled, a fried cod, the batter  thin and mild, preserving the taste of the fish, and a char broiled catfish (or at least, that’s the best translation we could get). The fish was almost burned crunchy at the ends, and sat in a white wine and butter sauce, covered in young garlic chunks. While perhaps too dark for some, I like a bit of char, so I ate it with revel.

For dessert, we stopped for ice cream. At almost any shop, the same variety of popsicles are available, but what pulled my attention was the mojito popsicle, with real muddled mint and rum inside. The exterior was icy and hard, but the core was chewy and the alcohol flavor, though mild, came through. On the way back to the hostel, we saw a large crowd of locals gathered around a small, quite literally, hole in the wall shop. For 1.40 Euro, they were buying small plastic cups of ginja, a sour cherry liquor, with cherries floating in the cup. This afternoon aperitif was to be sipped, both sweet and spiritus, it was a great way to cap off a late afternoon lunch.

The next day, I met another friend from the walking tour to visit the Saturday flea market. It was expansive with vendors selling everything from second hand goods, cloth, antiques, electronics, and more. After perusing their wares, we wandered the old town, whose walkways careen this way and that, finding a small restaurant spilling into the narrow street. We sat under the shade of a Super Bock umbrella and ordered one of the signature dishes of Lisbon, grilled sardines. About 6-7 inches long, each order came with four of the charred, whole fish. Sardines can have a metallic flavor, their flesh is slightly firm, but we left only the head and the spine, sipping sangria all the while.

It is worth it to mention that every tour in Lisbon will tell you to go to Belem for their pastelle de nata, or custard tarts. The famed shop has long since become a pastry factory, producing thousands of them a day. The tarts are ubiquitous in the city, but if you want the real thing, follow your nose through the old town, find the smallest bakery with the oldest grandma, and pay 1 euro for flaky, gooey, creamy goodness.

My final day was spent in Sintra, a quaint town a 40 minute train ride away from Lisbon. The city at the base of the mountain is for tourists, offering samples of port and ginja in chocolate cups. The weather was beautiful and the hiking even more so, a great way to tire myself out for the 48 hours of transit I was to face getting home.

Overall, it was a wonderful trip. Each city has its own vibe, its own dialect, food, and feel. Despite being geographically to close, Lisbon and Spain are very different countries, both of which have now been crossed off my bucket list.