el imparcial

Where I come from (Sherwood Forest, North Nottinghamshire, Lil’ol’England, Europe), a tree grows outside…so putting a tree inside, well that seems a bit radical. possibly cruel, possibly heretical. but fuck it eh?!
this is a bizarelly posh place next to a sex cinema in turso de molina….so if you want to do a shop in lidl (which is great, by the way), have a drink and piss in the square (also kind of great) and then go and watch a bit of porn in a cinema along with old men who enjoy the comradery of watching porn in a group situation with fellow minded men and who probably don’t know about the internet…and you would like to finish off your afternoon in a really posh restaurant that has a tree inside it…then this is the place for you.
I just went to the restaurant, not sure i have the energy for the others.
there is a menu del dia which is pretty steep at 16€ and only includes a glass of wine….which is silly for a three course meal…how can you possibly make a glass of wine last 3 courses unless you’re a camel. and there were no signs of any camels demanding a table.
posh places are a bit annoying. first, because they’re posh and make you feel uncomfortable, second because they charge too much and don’t deliver what you’ve given them in your hard earned chashish, third because they tend to employ waiters or waitresses that may look good but tend to be not very good at waiting or thinking…just looking good and fawning. fourth, ridiculous hydration policy, but i could probably link that in with the first point.
this had all of those things…but at the end of the day, the food was nice and there was a tree INSIDE.
I was there with my partner because it was a special day for us, being a friday and the temperature was nice and cool and there was just a chance of rain. heaven.
We went upstairs to the restaurant (there’s a bar downstairs) which was half empty and were asked if we had a reservation and then the main waiter seemed to make a bit of a deal about finding us a table in a half empty restaurant…should have gone the whole hog and asked us to stand outside the dining room and eat standing up outside the disabled toilet. at this point i should say that..the disabled toilet is great. especially if you’re disabled.
my partner, with usual intuitive good taste and penache asked the waiter if, to drink we could have water as part of the menu del dia and then a bottle of white wine which we’d pay for on top of the menu del dia…the waiter said that he couldn’t do that but we could have the water as part of the menu del dia and we could pay for the bottle of wine on top of the menu del dia. errr…ok. various wines were chosen but they didn’t have them before the waiter decided we’d be better having the only white wine they had that was actually cold. so we had that. we both chose the same starter and main course.

starter, salad with wind dried tuna. nice enough. bit salty. that could have been the wind dried tuna. or the lettus. iunno.

main course…sardene fillets on top of thin slices of arabic/pita bread with an aubergine puret. nice.
pudding…fruit cocktail or cheese cake. i double checked that there was no nuts in or around the cheesecake and was laughed off as though i was asking if the dirty old men from the porn cinema had jizzed all over the cheesecake before they served it. of course…the cheesecake came with pistachios around it…but luckily not on it (as i have a nut allergy that would kill three strong men, possibly 4). it was nice though. maybe due to the old man-batter sauce.

so…in the end 24€ each and certainly a place i’d lake a laydee if i was wanting to impress them chika-chika-bow-wow

el mono de la pila

this only opened up a couple of weeks ago on the first floor of the anton martin markert and i’ve been meaning to come here since it did. as anton martin is still a working market, despite all the new bars and restaurants, it closes reasonably early (at 9pm) and i’ve not been able to get my arse in gear early enough.
today me and my arse made it. in gear too. it’s a small place, maybe 3 or maybe 4 standup tables, the open kitchen and a fridge for beer and wine. very pleasant colombian fella who runs or owns it, or works there, asked me if i knew ceviche. silly question, of course i know ceviche…i’ve had it twice. here’s a picture of the menu…that’ll give you an idea

so, first you decide what size you want…i went for grande as i’m a growing lad….then a choice of wild corvina (sea bass), wild prawns or civilised octopus. i went for the civilised octopus. yourman then suggested that as i was already an expert, i’d have had the al tigre before and should try a different one. i went for the al coco…coconut milk, mango and avocado as well as the other usual ceviche things…red onion, weird crispy corn things…and yeah…the other stuff (?). he also asked me how spicy i’d like it and i explained i wasn’t spanish and so would like some flavour, but i’m a bit of a nonce too, so not too much. he was a bit surprised as i was wearing a uruguyan natonal footbal shirt..because i’d said i was english…not because uruguyans will never eat coconut milk. i told him i wasn’t uruguyan, i just liked the colour and didn’t see nationality. he said he didn’t see colour but he had loads of various different national football shirts too. so we bonded, the way men all over the world do..though maybe not in australia, north america or venezuela…but everywhere else.

ordered a beer. why not? aside from the fact that i might have epilepse and shouldn’t drink any beer ever. but come on! it’s a thursday and this homey don’t play by those rules. in a flash the food was ready. i suppose that’s the advantage of not actually cooking the food, but still i’d be amazed if i could toss a salad as quickly as this genius handed over a bole of ceviche. oh…i had quinoa in with the ceviche for an extra 0,60€. hey, i was hungry…i’d been at the gym, if i want to make it as a professional (or amateur) swimwear model, i’ve got to put the hours at the gym in. as my daddy, or roy castle (sometimes hard to diverentiate the one from the other) always said ‘If you want to be the best, if you want to beat the rest, dedication’s what you need’…they were wise men. or one of them was.

anyway, might only have been my third ceviche…but it was by far the best. in fact i’d go so far as to say it was the dog’s bollocks. the bollocks of the dog. if you’re not a brit, a paddy or an ausy, let me tell you…that’s really pretty jolly good.
so, total…2 beers (what? fuck off!), lovely ceviche with quinoa…12€

if you’re very lucky and you get to be here as the greengrocer is closing his stall, you get to see an old man’s arse crack as he closes all the shutters. phwoar! not that i objectify old men who run veg stalls. heaven forbid!

O barbas ©

Just as the Spanish are world famous for their mullets, the Portuguese are known for their moustaches. O barbas is known for not having a moustache, instead preferring a beard that gives him his name. As he is the only bearded man in Portugal he has managed to copyright his name and should the hipster ever find itself Portuguese he will have to talk with O barbas’ lawyers.
Hang on a condom packing minute, this is supposed to be “eating and drinking in Madrid”what’s all this Portuguese nonsense? Well,I make the rules init. I can have a picture of kim jong un all up in here if I want, man

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He not happy about that, man. Herro!
Anyway, my partner and I found ourselves in Lisbon for a baptism. Little amelie found herself accepted into the church of Catholics and we were there to mumble at the appropriate time in the ceremony. Pro-tip, keep your eye on older ladies ti know when to stand, when to sit and when to scream “wizard, you shall not pass!”
I was a massive lisbonian for many years so my partner was well impressed when i knew where to go when we were caught short. Clean, bog rule and kick on the door…what more would you need. Aside from a toilet seat. Overrated though inthey.
Went to beach in Costa init and decided to eat right on the seafront. I’ve never eaten well in Costa ago I decided to ask a friend who never goes there, he recommended O Barbas simply as it’s well known as being a restaurant in Costa. He had me at res.
As the restaurant is famous for beards what better way to start than with some clams?

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Cooked with garlic and wine. The clams, not the beard. Bottle of very good vinho Verde, naturally and some chicken samosas as an aperitif.
Main course was a monkfish stew served in a cataplana. I think monkfish must now be a protected species after the amount we shoved in our gullets. Was amazing and i was quite surprised that there was an element of either cream or coconut milk in their. Lots of cilantro of course. Peppers, onions, prawns, wine. Perfect

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Ended the meal with a glass of port, naturalment. About 20€ each with a second bottle of wine and a coffee each.
Managed to waddle to the beach half a metre away where I fell asleep and proceeded to sleep and snore loudly for an hour. Well, it keeps the sea pigeons away (or whatever they’re called…massive Fuckers)

Doing this on my phone…not sure what I do now. Help

Buns & Bones

Possibly the worst restaurant name i’ve ever come across, but i suppose it’s memorable. or not…i had to google it to write this.
Anyway, it’s a new restaurant on the outside of Anton Martin Market bottom corner if you were going to walk down to the Reina Sofia.

I suppose their shtick is that they get their ingrediants fresh from the market. the buns thing is, i think that half the menu contains bread and the bones bit is dead things that once had bones. i say half and half but there’s a large part of the menu that says “neither buns nor bones” and is given over to things that never had bones nor are served in bread.
We started off with Metze de Lavapies, the buns bit was pita pan and 3 things to put on to or into the pan…olive tapanard, hummus and guacamole. I thought that was a bit steep at 7.50, but to be fair…the waitresses were delightful, not that i’m ever swayed by a well turned ankle

I just got paid, so as a working class man, I am culturaly bound to spend it as quickly as possible. Not for the likes of I the more sensible deferred satisfaction, so i ordered a half a lobster. to eat. think i’d only ever had it once before. i felt all Kanye n’shit.

I should maybe have googled how to eat it properly because I fear I may have made a right pigs ear of it. Possibly why I’m not being considered for the new Bond.
My partner ordered the tandoori chicken, which was a brave thing to have on a menu in Lavapiés…bit like putting faggots & mushy peas on a menu in Nottingham, lot to live up to

My lobster was as nice as any i’ve ever had and the Tandoori chicken was apparently pukka. the roast potatoes that came with both were nice. Also, one of the lovely waitresses gave us a couple of beers free…I’d like to think that it was her way of being flortty-flortty, but it was probably because the chicken took a very long time and i’d finished stuffing my face with very recently murdered sea animal before my partner got the chicken.
Despite my rock star main course, the bill wasn’t too bad…21€ for two of us, a shared starter, lobster and 3 beers each