Life: Idiotropic

One of the beauties of living in the same place for a long time is that feeling of belonging - not just that you belong to it, but that it belongs to you.  When you know the streets, the locals, the hangouts.  That was the sorrow in leaving Germany.  I'd arrived.  It seemed I knew everything and everybody.  I belonged there.  And here...  well, it takes some time.

I'm good about cafes.  It's my way of feeling like I belong - that bit of familiarity that I grasp onto as I quickly find the "best coffee in town" and frequent it making it my own.  That's easy.  I've had that for months.

Now I rely on friends here - locals - to fill in the rest. 

Tonight Kirk and I went to El Pito 2, one of the "best tapas restaurants" around.

El Pito began in Meliana "once upon a time," run by a husband and wife.  Apparently, at El Pito, it is traditional to make a loud yell each time the tapas come from the oven adding to the crazy atmosphere there.

We ate at 2 which, we were told, is much better (and much quieter).  The story goes that husband and wife split.  Wife kept "la origional" in the old center and husband started "dos" on the Carretera de Barcelona, the main road through town.

It was easy to find.  We parked just in front, arriving early by Spanish standards - just after 9pm.  We walked in to see a nearly empty restaurant, but it was open and we were quickly greeted by the waitress and the owner who asked us if it was the first time we'd eaten there.  I told him that a friend recommended "dos" telling me that "dos" was better than the original.  He laughed, put his finger in front of his lips, and pointed to the lady at the table next to us - the owner of El Pito primero.

We never saw a menu.  We were new and "must try a little bit of everything," so the waitress came to us with a verbal list.  Would you like caracoles?  Snails?  Uh, mmm, no, thank you.  The next item was also caracoles... smaller ones though.  So we said yes, ok.  We'll try them.  And on down the list.  We didn't say "no" to anything else.

The snails came first.  See them?  Cute, huh?  Kirk likes snails.  He ate them frequently in Belgium and actually enjoys them.  I, however, have a strong aversion to eating an entire creature.  Muscle, fine.  Complete system?  Blech.  But there sat this entire bowl of snails - probably 60 little things.  Just two days ago, my little girls had built a house for our garden snails.  Now I'm asking Kirk to pick one out of it's shell for me and hand it to me with a toothpick.  I try not to look at the little eyes on the end of its antennae. 

Eww.  If I stand outside of myself and think completely rationally, I can tell you that snails really are quite flavorless and so if they are cooked properly and soaked in a delicious sauce like this one, then they really are quite good.  Sadly, I'm just not that mature.  Ewwww!  I just ate a snail!  Ewwww! 

In spite of my internal reaction, I was calm and collected.   After all, the owner of El Pito 2 did look over and his staff as well seemed to care that our experience was a good one.  The next plate arrived, a delicious layer of bacaloa spread with a layer of tomate, then olive oil.  Spread onto the grilled bread they brought, it was heavenly.  I worked on that while Kirk made an artistic arrangement of snail shells on his plate.

Next:  Tellinas.  Cockles, may be?  Small more oval shaped tasties in purplish white shells.  Another one of my aversions, but I tried them anyway.  After all, I'd just eaten a snail, so how bad can these be?  Surprisingly, they are absolutely delicious.  I ate 3 - voluntarily!  And Kirk added tellinas shells to his artistic display on his plate.

Two crouqettes de bacalao - wonderful.  A plate of thinly sliced baby artichokes, sauteed.  Another plate of mushrooms cooked so nicely, flavorful, but dry - not a hint of slime.  I don't like mushrooms, but I loved these.  


Sepia a la plancha.  A nicely grilled whole cuttlefish.  Another thing that a year ago I would have just stared at.  Now, I actually enjoy it.  Cooked well, it can be delicious.

Our last tapas:  A stuffed eggplant that was good, but I was also too stuffed by now to want any more.  The stuffed potatoe was so flavorful though that there was no turning back.  It had to be finished.  I didn't translate it for Kirk.  He doesn't like foie gras, but he loved this potatoe.  He raved about this potatoe.  The goose liver added a really nice flavor to it without being too heavy.


Dessert:  Torta de tres chocolates and a blueberry cheesecake.  I prefer the first.  Kirk prefers the second.  We're a good team.

The evening's over and I'm sipping a cafe con leche thinking that this is it, we've arrived.  Live is good, we're opening up and finding that Spain seems to be opening up as well.  It feels almost like home.  The people are welcoming and friendly.  I feel taken care of.  And this little gem in Meliana, this second Pito, just could be my tapas "hang out."  In fact, I think before I move away, I just need to try everything on the menu.