SPAIN WEEK: The First Meal

The first meal in Spain was a surprising one!  Being with an Italian choir, we arrived at our hotel eager to have our first authentic Spanish meal.

Back in the U.S., we would have had tapas from one of our favorite Spanish restaurant.  Tinto is the name of the place.  It is in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA.  As well, it is a Jose Garces restaurant.  You may be familiar with his name if you watched recent seasons of the culinary game show, Iron Chef America.

In the Basque area of Spain, we would happily be eating tapas' "small plates" brother, called Pintxos.  It is pronounced like this - peench-ohs.  Considering we were located in Zarautz, Spain, a beach community touching the Atlantic Ocean in the heart of Basque Spain culture, we figured we would get excellent seafood as the majority of our small plates.

As we walked into our hotel's restaurant, we had to pass through the first room which had tables and a bar and plenty of Pinxtos.  They looked fantastic.  Don't you agree?

The anticipation was intense!  We filled our glasses and prepared ourselves for culinary excellence. Conversation was steady and filled with both laughter and excitement.

Then our first plate arrived.  The Italians surrounding me at the table became silent.  Each person's eyes fixed down on their plate.  You could hear a mouse walk through the room it was so quiet.
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It's because we were served this:

ARE YOU SERIOUS??? You get 50 visiting Italians at your hotel and restaurant and you serve them spaghetti?  ... as the first plate???

I've never seen so many partially-consumed plates of food from this group.  Americans know quite well the flavor and consistency of this overcooked pile of slop.  We call it Chef Boyardee pasta and it comes pre-made in a can with so many preservatives, its shelf life is probably 2 years.

We prefer to eat things that expire after 2 days, thank you. Likewise, we prefer our noodles to be cooked al dente and the sauce to taste good.

Curious as to how this would unfold with the restaurant staff, I kept careful observation of our three servers.  A face of wonder and confusion was the reaction I read on each person.  Were we still eating these?  Were we finished?  Why is there still so much pasta on every person's plate?

After finding out everyone was finished with this punishment, several plates were picked up and I watched the first server bring them back into the kitchen.  Within seconds I spotted through the small window located on the door, the cook, peering through to see why the server was bringing back so much untouched food.  What monster was he up against tonight?

The Italian monster.

Round two.  Let's see what else he has planned for us on what truly can be called a culinary "adventure".  After all, there has already been one pitfall to overcome.

Unsalted, sauteed chicken breasts with unsalted french fries.  Come on guys.  At this point, I have made my way to one of the "executives" in the choir and asked who organized this meal.  He didn't know who it was.  He just knew it was someone from the choir competition in which we were attending.  Well whoever it was, they forgot to tell the restaurant to represent Spain in a positive manner.

Then dessert came.  Finally, something edible!  Catalan Cream is what we know this as.  And it's a delicious, caramel flavored custard.  With whipped cream, it's even better.  Luckily, this was eaten up.  And the bread sitting at all tables was replaced several times because at least that was superb quality food.

Perhaps our remaining meals in Spain will be better?  You'll just have to find out.