So why the deviation? 3 reasons:
One: what’s a restaurant anyway? A room that probably has a kitchen where you sit down and they bring you food and a drink and then you talk with someone you ideally quite like to talk with and then eat and then pay and then emerge into the outside world better than when you went in? A bit like a cafe…
Two: I’m really trying to set a precedent so that I can start to put my more liquid evenings on expenses. Restaurants are the means; I tell my editor. Not an end. What’s the end then? he asks me.
Three: the story doesn’t have a restaurant in it, and it’s very awkward to shoulder one in after the fact. I’d be into the realm of fiction, and as responsible a writer as I am, I’m only comfortable with embellished fact.
Mansilla was Abril’s recommendation. Like an Argentinian farmhouse, she says and being Argentinian, she’s my local expert on Argentinian farmhouses. It’s a warm and kind place down in Lavapies. Emphasis on kind. Notable things: lots of books (readable, buyable too), a FANTASTIC tea menu (orange and chocolate, for example), and pretty good brunch situation too.
I had toast with marmalade, homemade (I think? I imagined?) orange, but was tempted by fig. Abril had muesli with yoghurt and fruit, although she doesn’t like muesli. Quite silly Abril! It’s a quiet spot and well, I’ve already said kind but I’m going to say it again. It’s a kind place. When I asked for a refill of hot water for the orange and chocolate tea bag in the teapot she said absolutely you can.
Good, I thought. Sure, charging for hot water should be a crime against humanity, but still, what with the complete breakdown of international law and inefficacy of the ICC, they could so easily have refused my hot water request. Could I taste chocolate in the tea? No, no I couldn’t. But I’m glad it was there.
Pez Tortilla is a little more restaurant-y. The food is hot, for a start, and the drinks have less phantom chocolate and more actual alcohol.
Notable things: fantastically sized beer glasses (small!), good prices, and the bar vibe that Big Bar goes for but struggles to execute. We ate patatas bravas and brie and truffle tortilla. It was absolutely fine: you know what you’re getting, and at that exact moment there was nothing we could have wanted more. It answered the question an afternoon of vermouth in the sunny Plaza Juan Pijol had asked. Alongside our potato and egg, we had several cañas of a local IPA. They were perfect: no notes.
We told stories about our fellow bar-goers. The biggest cheese in the Portugese/Andorran techno scene was meeting her Spanish counterpart. It was frosty at first, and their bodyguards sat silently at a table by the window. But Pez broke them, and by the end, the Iberian Peninsula had a united techno scene for the first time since 1994. If Pez Tortilla can do that, then a great afternoon with friends is nothing. And combined with Mansilla, well, that’s a restaurant I’d go to.
Mansilla Libros y Café, Lavapies:
- Breakfast: 7/10
- Space: 8/10
- Kindness: 11/10
- Books: lots
Pez Tortilla, Malasaña:
- Food: 7/10
- Value: 8/10
- Vibe: 9/10
- Beer glass size: 10/10
Barnaby Shand