butterfly

> delicious Brie-like products made by Tros de Sort Do you happen to know where I can find this cheese in Madrid?

The regions most known for cows--and cow milk-- are Cantabria, Asturias and, to a lesser extent, Catalunya. Manchego is made from sheep's milk (which has a higher fat content than cow milk). Sheep have been a huge part of the Spanish economy for thousands of years, since they do well in the high altitude and dry climate of the Meseta (which produces a wonderfully nutrient-rich and drought resistent grass). Some of my favorite Spanish cheeses are Idiazabal, La Serena, Zamorano, Gamonedo, Murcia al Vino, Cabrales... Check out this site for more info: http://www.cheesefromspain.com

The NY times did a tasting of Priorats: http://www.nytimes.com/packages/html/dinin...RE/blocker.html (requires that you sign in) I'm looking forward to driving through this region this summer...

logistical info: There's also a regional train (C-5 from Atocha station) that goes to Humanes every 20 minutes or so. It's a 30 minute ride.

I sought further clarification on this... My French colleague insists that mâche can refer to a larger subset of greens, while in her experience doucette is a more specific term for "canónigos." Of course a rose by any other name smells just a sweet... Apparently, canónigos are common in the Loire valley and around Nantes--two areas where I once lived and somehow never encountered them... Here in Madrid, they are readily available in most markets... But I'm not sure where they emanate from... I'd guess somewhere up north.

Thanks for the responses! A (food-obsessed) French colleague told me today that mâche often refers to a another green--and that she calls canónigos "doucette". Canónigos are not lamb's tongue--at least not as I knew this green in the US. The photos of lamb's lettuce that turned up when I searched online vary quite a bit... some appear to be canónigos and others are quite different. Corn salad seems to be the term of choice in the UK and these appear to be canónigos (though this photo is rather ambiguous): http://www.humeseeds.com/letcs.htm

I have developed such an abiding affection for canónigos that it is really bothering me that I can't find a word for them in my native language. I think they could be the perfect green--pretty little bundles of tender leaves with sweet and bitter undertones--what watercress could be if it was less assertive and much easier to clean. According to my French-Spanish dictionary, they translate as "mâche" in French. I don't think I've ever seen them on the other side of the pond. Perhaps the British have a term for them...

I've never known anyone who got fined, but I know several people who have had the good stuff confiscated at customs at JFK and Dulles (all post 9-11). P.S. Apart from jamon iberico, most of the varieties/producers of jamon serrano here in Spain are not imported to the US. But I think the biggest problem with the quality of much of the imported dry-cured ham is the way that it is stored (often in humid conditions--or god forbid refrigerated). And also the way it is usually cut--with a machine whose blades get very hot and do something unforgivable to the texture of the ham. I much prefer mine hand cut.

Thanks so much for your suggestions! Ah, I must have beginners luck, because by chance (or good culinary genes) I bought our marzipan from Horno de de Santo Tomé. Very good indeed. We had a really nice lunch at Hierbabuena, which is right around the corner from the Mezquita del Cristo de la Luz. It's a nice little space, with a sunny little glass-enclosed dining room that surrounds an interior patio on all sides. I thought the most carnivorous dishes shone brightest--the boar and venison (jabalí y ciervo) was so tender, flavorful and perfectly cooked. Also, the red onions stuffed with morcilla (which was rendered quite creamy in texture). But perhaps the highlight of the meal was the the greek yogurt Pedro Ximénez ice cream (with wild berries). This is the best ice cream I have had in ages. Hierbabuena, Callejón de San José, 17. Tel. 925 22 39 24. I think there may be a second location as well...

P.S. I know this is probably sacrilege during lent, but are there any good spots that make mazapán year round? I swore the stuff off after overindulging at Christmastime and now I think I'm ready for some more, even though I realize that--if I were stronger--I would wait until next year... Also, are there any other treats from Toledo that I should know about?

Resurrecting this ancient thread, because I couldn't find any others on Toledo... Can anyone recommend a nice (but not too formal) spot for lunch in Toledo? We'll be bound to the tourist route with visiting family and won't have a car or an exorbitant amount of time... Thanks!

Are the wineries in Priorat open to the public or does the best "tasting" get done at local bodegas/enotecas?

This is probably more info than you want... I worked in several different Japanese-owned sushi places in different parts of the US. In each, the way that tips were distributed worked the same way (and completely differently from the non-Japanese places where I worked). All of the tips received by the waitstaff, hostess, sushi chefs, etc. were pooled. Though the amount received by everyone was tracked. We put our cash tips into little boxes that had a slot in the top, with each person having their own cubbyhole. The sushi chefs got a certain percentage off the top (30-40%). They used their own system of seniority to divvy up this amount, with the most experienced chefs getting the largest percentage. Then the hostess and busboys/girls got a little cut, as did the cashier in some cases (can't remember the percentage). Then the waitresses (never any waiters!) got the rest. The amount that we got individually was based on seniority, competency, and ability to pull in tips, as determined by the head waitress. The system worked very, very well. It encourages the waiters to work as a team and help each other out. It rewards good workers. It doesn't behoove you to be dishonest and keep your cash tips from the others, because the amount of tips that you receive works toward the percentage that you get when they get divvied back to you. The whole process of divvying up the tips was fun--we did it at the end of the night while eating a big staff meal together. So, to make a long story short... At a Japanese restaurant (though I can't vouch for a Korean-run "japanese" place), it doesn't really matter to whom you give the tip. It will all end up in the big pool. However, if you are sitting at the bar or getting carry-out, it's not a bad idea to tip into a jar, since it could ensure a closer personal relationship with the chef, which means special treats down the road. One absolute no-no is to hand cash to the chef in his/her hand. Money is dirty and they don't want it near the fish or food prep area.

Nerdgirl--I lived in Barcelona, and I never saw people throw trash on the floor, either. But in Madrid and in many other parts of Spain, this is completely the standard in cafes, pastry shops and bars--particularly those that are on the lower end of the economic spectrum and where you stand at a bar to eat/sip. At the cafe downstairs from me, they sweep up the mounds of napkins and detritus after every rush (morning, coffee break time, after lunch, after merienda, before closing). In Asturias, the Sidrerias have sawdust on the floor to facilitate the clean up and absorption of crustacean parts and splattered cider. You have to keep in mind, that napkins here are about the size of a square of toilet paper and should be wadded up to be smaller than a marble (Spain isn't known for it's luxurious paper products, is it?). About slipping--this is a strictly "at your own risk" kind of place. The onus is on you to watch where you are going and what you're stepping on...

Are these the baby eels that are caught and can be eaten still in Ribadesella (in Asturias)? Perhaps there's a brief moment when the locals get to them before they are snapped up and promptly shipped to Japan... About percebes... a naive question: I have only had them prepared very simply (boiled in a bit of salted water). Do they prepare them differently at Combarro? It's such a complex little lifeform... (an enigma wrapped in a conundrum!) I enjoyed the percebes that I had at El Cantabrico (in Salamanca). This is a really simple lunch-counter spot (with a handfull of tables) that only serves shellfish. Very fresh stuff in my experience.

I think polvorones are disgustingly tasty--kind of like raw chocolate chip cookie dough--but with the added bonus of being made with lard. They make me ill everytime I eat them, but I keep coming back for more...

Feeling a bit "pija" after Victor's admonition about elitist chocolate preferences, I went by La Oriental (Campomanes, 5--one block from the Opera metro stop) today. What a nice little spot. They have a small selection of homemade "bonbones," chocolate-dipped orange slices, creative variations on turron, beautiful little cookies, etc. The bonbons have a really nice texture and intense flavors like ginger, green tea, sesame... very nice. In addition, they have a little tearoom/cafe in the back where you can snack right on the premises. A very nice little respite from the maddening Christmas crowds--close to the tourist attractions--Plaza del Oriente/the Palace/Opera, etc. Also close to Alambique (the beautiful kitchen supply store), which is good for culinary multitasking. Thanks again for the recommendation! P.S. I ran across El Mundo's very complete guide to bonbonerías: http://www.elmundo.es/metropoli/2004/02/16...1076933150.html

Ah, that's the beautiful thing about living here... there's a time and place for everything. When you have a child, there's this really nice window of time right after school when you can go for a merienda--in our case chocolate con churros and maybe a clementine. All of the old-timers in my neighborhood do likewise. If you go an hour or so later, it's all beer and tapas. Victor--your list is exactly what I was looking for. Thanks so much! I also promise to delve further into Valor's bonbones, I've never gotten past the chocolate a la taza bars. I recently discovered the Lindt 99% cocoa bar, which is something of a psychedelic, slightly masochistic experience...

Thanks-- I'm already (far too) familiar with San Ginés! How is it that their hot chocolate is so much better than the rest? I'm looking for a decadent little present for my son's teacher... I'll try to check out the Valor store (I'm assuming they have a bigger selection than what's available at El Corte Ingles). How about Blanxart?

I'm looking for a shop in Madrid with really high-quality chocolate that is made in Spain. Any recommendations? Thanks!

Is there an ideal gastronomy? A very interesting question, because it seems to me that your work does just this. You seem to pursue "the ideal"--in the Platonic, philosophical sense. Seeking pure flavor, a pure sensual/sensory culinary experience. I think it is for this reason that your work has remained (and will remain) inimitable. Not only does it require a tremendous amount of work, research, and trial and error, but also a singular personal vision and motivation to search for the essence or ideal and apply it to gastronomy. A gastronomy of ideals = an ideal gastronomy? Which brings me to another question that I wanted to ask but wasn't sure how to frame... Have you seen the Els Joglars production of El Retablo de las Maravillas?*** For me, this really drove home the fact that many literally cannot perceive what you are doing. Further proof that you are operating on a different level, closer to the pursuit of ideals, while the rest of us are deep in the cave looking at the shadows? Or that most people aren't ready for food and eating to be examined in a systematic multidisciplinary fashion--through philosophy, chemistry, art, theater...? My personal ideal: food that is in perfect harmony with it natural, historical, geographical, and cultural setting. ***El Retablo de las Maravillas is a theatrical work by Cervantes. In it, a conman tricks the other characters into pretending that they see something that doesn't exist. He does this by telling them that only those of "pure blood" (in the sense of the Inquisition) can see it. Of course no one is really "pure" so they must carry out the ruse. In the Els Joglars adaptation (now in Madrid), one of the retablos is very obviously inspired by Adria. In it, several people from all over Spain are chosen via a sort of lottery to dine at a restaurant where they are served air with a side of nothingness, accompanied by a smattering of invisibility. Interestingly, it's the only retablo that doesn't work (the others deal with religion, art, politics). The people just can't fake it and the whole system breaks down.

Well, we egulleteers are something of a self-selected group of obsessive-compulsive food lovers... Just the sort who would be prone to writing heartfelt pleas to far-flung restaurants and planning a cross-country/intra-continental/inter-continental voyage around available tables...

Hmm, egullet wasn't a factor in my snagging a reservation, since my egullet moniker is unidentifiable... I think writing a thoughtful letter/request and being flexible must play the biggest part.

Just a quick níscalo update... I saw them for 20 Euros a kilo at Mercado de la Cebada today. This vendor is on the bottom floor in the middle (maybe two rows back from the elevator in the middle). He was also selling "yesterday's níscalos" for 14 Euros a kilo--they were slightly knocked around, but still looked good to me, so I bought a 1/2 kilo. Mercado de la Cebada is right next to the La Latina metro stop. There's also a very good (but pricey) fish vendor on the top floor--from the main entrance, you go up the left stairs and down the second row to the extreme left side of the market. One of these days I'll do a better write up on this market, because there is a lot of good stuff if you know where to look and how to ask...

Just a few days ago, we purchased níscalos at Mercado de la Cebada for 25 Euros a kilo... and I've always thought that our market seems a bit pricier than most of the others around. They looked a bit mossy on the outside, but they were absolutely delicious, beautifully orange and free from grit.