As I start this, I must crave your indulgence in forgiving any mistakes or vagueness: like Rowley Birkin, Q.C. from The Fast Show, "I am very, very drunk"! (As you will gather as we progress.)
After a false start, when I found that the branch closest to my office was booked for a private function, and a few problems finding the correct turning off Bow Lane (third time lucky, eh!), I descended into a very pleasant subterranean restaurant/bar. Having previously looked at the Barcelona Tapas website, I was a little apprehensive about the background music, but found that in real life it was pitched at just the right volume and actually quite nice.
Aside from the décor (which involved some very attractive, bright tile-work, but otherwise didn't make that much of an impression), the first thing I think I should mention is the staff. Unfortunately, I didn't make a note of anyone's name (and, if I was told what they were called, I can't remember now), so all I can say is that two of them, who I'll have to refer to as "Miss Food" and "Mr Wine", made this such a pleasant experience that I increased the tip from the auto-calculated sum to something a bit more reasonable. I was, however, somewhat less impressed by three of their colleagues, one of whom was incapable of bringing me some ice-cubes without referring the matter to one of her superiors!
I had gone along merely with the intention of comparing a couple of the wines on their extensive list, but succumbed to the temptations on offer and stayed for some food and more wine, over the course of about the next three hours and I would heartily recommend a similar exercise to anyone who is not overly short of funds (I justified the expenditure to myself as making up for a couple of missed meals out in August and early November).
As wine was the raison (or should that be raisin?!) d'être for my visit, perhaps I should run through the ones I had. The Valdepeñas was OK, but a bit disappointing compared with supermarket ones I've tried before, which scarcely cost more for a whole bottle than this did for a glass – it was drinkable, but I'm not sure I'd want more than a couple of glasses. The Castillo de Manzanares, on the other hand, was pretty much worth the whole trip on its own: so much more refined a flavour, for not much more money. I'll refrain from the Jilly Goolden/Oz Clarke description; suffice to say this was my second favourite wine of the night for a third of the price of the only one that beat it.
Now, when choosing wines, I tend to look at the grape variety first and then the country/region etc. My favourite red wines are made from pinot noir grapes (with Hospices de Beaune as the best I've yet tasted), but tempranillo is not far behind and that tends to be what good Spanish wine is made from (in some areas they call the variety "cencibel" and surely any wine made from "sensible" grapes must be good!). However, the only way to tell if I might like wine made from another grape variety is to try some and there were plenty to choose from here.
The outstanding wine of the night, an Andalus 2001 (which it took Mr Wine a bit of time and effort to track down, but well worth the wait), was made from petit verdot – I really must try to track down some more, as this was quite remarkable. Of course, these things are subjective and I'd hate to be responsible for someone shelling out oodles of boodle and thinking "was that it?" – I was somewhat taken aback at the price myself, but I enjoyed it so much I think it was worth every penny. The bouquet alone was so complex that it seemed more like a liqueur made from numerous ingredients (some, at least, jealously-guarded secrets) than a wine made from grapes alone...
Mazuelo, on the other hand, is not a grape I think I'll bother looking for. The Miguel Merino... de la Quinta Cruz was decidedly ordinary (though I'm sure some people would like it – in the cigar world, I'd much rather have a Macanudo or Cuaba than a Montecristo, but tastes do differ...).
Out of my next three potential choices, they only had one in stock: the Prado Rey Roble (going back to tempranillo grapes), which was somewhere between the first two for enjoyment, but went well enough with the food I was by then consuming.
Finally (well, almost!), I turned to the dessert wines. As I've mentioned, I was looking at grape varieties in the first instance, so I had to ask Mr Wine about the only one that didn't have a variety listed: it turned out to be a garnacha/grenache, so I started to look elsewhere on the list, but he had dug it out from some obscure corner of the cellar, so he poured us a taste each. All I can really say is: yes, it was definitely a grenache, albeit a sweet (and not wholly unpalatable) one.
What I actually chose for a whole glass (after my first choice proved, once again, to be out of stock) was an Ochoa moscatel, which smelt like Beaume de Venise and tasted like Montbazillac – in other words: very nice indeed! I don't know whether Mr Wine thought I had made the wrong choice, but anyway he then plied me with some Don PX (made from pedro ximenez grapes), which smelt and tasted very much of sultanas (albeit boozy ones) and precious little else.
My last tipple, to accompany a nice-enough coffee (though it was rather hot – hence the request for ice – and had a quite alarmingly frothy "head" on it!), was Licor 43, which took me back to Benidorm in the '70s!
Starting about wines three and four, I was somewhat more modest on the food side, but couldn't resist the Pulpo a la Gallega (which evoked memories of Granada in the '80s – I hadn't been able to find octopus as nice in the meanwhile). My only criticism would be that the rock salt was rather too crunchy.
With the Riñones al Jerez, the kidneys themselves were excellent, but I couldn't detect much sherry flavour and I ended up leaving most of the accompanying onions, which seemed superfluous.
The Chocolate Gaudi tasted nice enough, but was frozen far too solid to be classed as a "mousse tart" in my book. As for the Ovin cheese, it might not be so easy to distinguish from chalk as all that...
With my coffee, I was served what I can only describe as a small, very sweet sand cake, from which I foolishly bit almost half, before I realised what I was letting myself in for! Oh, how I pined for the plum chocolates at the Polka Continental... Still, I was able to wash the worst of it away with the remaining liqueur and coffee – and it gave me a whole new perspective on Marion's shortbread!
Minor quibbles (and major bank balance damage) aside, I had one of the best evenings out I've experienced in a long time and managed to toddle to a station in plenty of time for a train home in a very pleasantly tipsy state – arriving in just the right mood to type my very first entire document on Beautiful StephanEee, my dinky little laptop (though I am using Queen Clioputer to post this).
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silly
contemplative
curious
disappointed
smug!
