Monday, 24 March 2014

Thrilla in Sevilla

The 530AM start, the expensive taxi, the guy trying to squeeze a few "euros" out of us for his apparent assistance in procuring the taxi, the three and a half hour ferry delay and missing three different buses.  All irrelevant details in the quest for this moment, reacquainting ourselves with our good buddy.


Fifty days without booze was an impressive feat but it was soon ancient history once we'd hit Spain.  It's a fifty day stretch that will probably never be replicated again.  I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted liver.

The Churros (!) 

Each day started with a cone of these crispy, crunchy little treats.  Picture for a moment how good you'd imagine these to be.  Now double it.  They were that good.



Tapas Time

The Sevillanos have certainly mastered how to eat and drink properly.  Ordering just a few small plates of food with a couple of cervezas or sherries at one bar before moving onto the next and doing the same again is absolutely genius.  It's particularly enjoyable for Nix who always wants to eat a little bit of everything and also for me given my short food and drink attention span.

Los Coloniales

Our favourite out of the ones that we hit.  Unpretentious, nice staff and v high deliciousness to price ratios.  An accidentally ordered chicken with almond sauce, lettuce hearts with anchovies and honey smothered, deep fried eggplant.  All brilliant.

Oh, and some Jamon Iberico.  O. M. G.  "It's like the pigs are running on my tongue".  "It's as though angelic pigs are pissing on my tongue".  Enough said.


Bodeguita Romero 

Little burgers (pringas) filled with fatty, juicy pork and Spanish blood sausage (morcilla).  SOLD!


Casa Morales

Our unexpected find.  We whiled away countless hours here familiarising ourselves with all things sherry related.  Simple yet good food hit the spot too.


Las Golondrinas

A little wander across the Guadalquivir River into Triana and we were stood at the bar at Las Golondrinas .

Who thought radishes drenched in olive oil and covered with rock salt could taste so bloody good.  The garlic champignons weren't bad either.  We even contemplated getting stuck into the half finished plate of champignons next to us.


El Rinconcillo

The alleged oldest Tapas bar in Sevilla.  It first opened its doors in 1670.  In Australia in 1670 the Dutch knew that a Down Under existed however the POMs hadn't even set foot there yet.  And there were the Sevillanos, enjoying the Jamon Ibirico and their sherries whilst we were just a twinkle in Captain Cook's eye.

They certainly still keep up appearances here.  Waiters wear suits, the ancient meat hooks still hang where they've hung for decades and everything is kept in impeccable condition.


We had my tapa of Sevilla here too, Espinaca con Garbanzos, a simple spinach and chickpea dish.  Simple yet amazing.

Alfalfa

The kind of bar that you'd love to call your local.  Tasty Tapas, cheap drinks, welcoming staff and that well-worn, sort-of homely feel to it that's impossible to buy.


Eslava

A classy little affair that gave us some dirty little pork ribs in honey sauce.  Niiiiice.


Taberna El Panduro 

A little bit lacking in atmosphere when we were there for lunch but the curry spiced chicken on a bed of lettuce and guac with an Asian dressing more than made up for that!


Dos de Mayo

Not the worst, far from the greatest.  It felt a bit too clean cut and a bit too touristy for our liking.  Their pork in whiskey sauce, a Tapas staple, was a big let down.

La Bodega 

A sister bar to Dos de Mayo and it seemed to do right what that did wrong.  A lot more authentic, the pork cheek that we had was spot on and all other food that went past our noses made us salivate more and more.


Bodega Santa Cruz

Ending on the worst.  Holy shit balls this was bad.

I won't say anything more than coming here gave me the same feeling as watching the ragged old sex worker go at it in Amsterdam.  Same shit, different day.


Honourable Mention - San Telmo

Not so much a Tapas bar as a Tapas style restaurant but deserving of a plug nonetheless.  Amazing, amazing, lemon meringue pie and our introduction to oloroso.


Embracing Siestas 

Arriving in Spain necessitated a change of routine.  When dinner doesn't begin until after 830pm a late afternoon siesta is in order.  And how sweet it is.

Out you head at about 9ish, refreshed and ready to eat and booze yourself stupid.  As I said, the Sevillanos have this shit sussed.

Oh, and Sevilla itself isn't a bad looking city either.