Barcelona - Culture shock and discoveries

I've been fortunate enough in my life to have visited such exotic places as India, Thailand, Bali, Hong Kong and Japan. All countries very different to my home. Whatever culture shock I experienced in these places was nothing compared to how alien I felt in Barcelona. It's true that a large city is far less occupied with tourism than a beach resort, for example, but this was Spain, only 2 hours flying time from the UK, yet I felt as though I was on another planet and an inconvenient visitor at that.

The first instance Neil and I realized we knew nothing about Spanish culture happened immediately. Asking for a lunch menu at 12pm raised eyebrows and titters from all quarters. We were informed that lunch is a two hour affair starting at 2pm, 12 o'clock is practically still breakfast. As with most embarrassing situations, something good transpired and we were told it was possible to order tapas. So, we did and discovered two things that are defining for Spanish cuisine : Jamon Iberico and Pan de Tomate.

Jamon Iberico is considered by many to be the best ham in the world. It is made from pigs that are at least 75% Iberico, from South and South West Spain and owes it unique taste to the pig's diet. In the best grade (De Bellota), this is exclusively acorns, which gives it a nutty, sweet taste. That morning, watching the server carve wafer thin slices from a whole leg suspended from a special hook, we knew we were going to learn a lot in those 3 days.

 

The ham was served with some black olives, firm, waxy cheeses and Pan de Tomate, a piece of bread rubbed with a slice of garlic and then a very ripe tomato so as to colour the bread a pinky hue and soak up all the juices. 

We drank coffee and ate our 'brunch' with nervousness but extreme pleasure, looking forward to a late lunch literally in the afternoon for us.

Breakfast in our hotel was basically a vending machine, dispensing disgusting plastic cups of coffee and some pastries that had been left on plates in the hallway. We were at a budget hotel. Imagine a hostel where you hear people screaming and shouting in the middle of the night and an apartment building opposite with washing hanging over the window ledge, this was our hotel. With cracks and stains in the bath, I half expected cockroaches to start joining us in bed, yet, Neil was determined to make the most of the meagre supplies we had been left and call it breakfast. Watching people tuck into their churros and hot chocolate in small cafes, left me bitter.  I wanted their breakfasts, maybe a small glass of sherry at 10am to console me. We comforted ourselves that tapas, long, leisurely lunches and dinners were still to be enjoyed, so I left the deep fried delights for another day.

I ate Paella 3 times, even though a Spanish friend had informed me it was not common or popular in this region. I gave in to this particular tourist allurement and indulged myself on what must be one of my favourite meals from anywhere in the World. It's the crust at the bottom that gets me, where it has become crispy and brown and intensified in flavour with a chewy texture. I loved the chicken and seafood, dusted with paprika and salt, the vegetables, still with a bite and strongly flavoured from the chicken stock and the rice, buttercup yellow from saffron and honey scented. Each time it was slightly different, a few more prawns here or a more subtle saffron flavour there, but I devoured it eagerly every time and ate the entire dish to myself.

Of course, Spain is famous for tapas and Neil and I were enthusiastic to try as much as possible. Without realising it, on our final night we had wandered into a famous Barcelona landmark, Cal Pep. Usually packed to the rafters with people lining up down the street, on this cold Monday in January it was empty. We ordered about 10 different things : large, sweet white anchovies, patatas bravas, marinated mushrooms, juicy grilled prawns, mini seafood rice baked with saffron and chili powder to name but a few. It was a wonderful place, full of informal and unfussy furnishings, wooden benches and friendly servers and of course, large frosted glasses for beer. 

The patatas bravas we had become used to seemed disappointingly different here. The crispy fried potato wedges were the same but instead of the usual chunky tomato sauce we were expecting, in most places we found the potatoes covered with a type of pink mayonnaise, faintly smelling and tasting like tomato. We have since found out that this is more common in Catalonia where the potatoes are cooked in olive oil, red pepper, paprika and vinegar and served with a side of alioli, (garlic mayonnaise).

As I mentioned at the beginning of the post, Neil and I came to Barcelona quite naive and unprepared and this was most apparent when we wandered down a side street one day to find ourselves in an indoor market the likes of which I hadn't seen many times before. It was, of course, The Boqueria, one of the most famous markets in Europe.

A vibrant space, full of incredible produce and lots of new things, it was the highlight of our time in Barcelona. Meats, vegetables, spices, ice cream, places to eat or drink a coffee all existed together like any good market.  I'll provide a link for you here as I couldn't possibly describe it well enough to do it any justice. 

Neil and I left Barcelona amazed at how little we had known about the culture, the food and the people. Being European ourselves, we assumed the way of life would be the same. This was not the case but to discover this is exactly the reason why we travel.