Chiringuito la pedriza

Just to warn you, this might be the most annoying post i’ve ever written…I say that but I’ve not written it yet and the thoughts i’ve had before starting could barely be called “thoughts”
One reason is that there’s going to be a lot of guff before the actual food writing, and then the actual food writing is so brief and so pointless you’ll wonder why I even bothered at all. Bit like a lot of not very god foreplay before the equally disappointing main event… but that’s how i role, yo!
The other thing you may find annoying is that you’ve decided that at times i’m slagging off Madrid and/or Madrileños…to be honest, that’s your problem. I live in Madrid because I love it, if I didn’t I’d leave because I can live anywhere I like (possibly not Australia…they speak English there and probably don’t want me there). What it is, is that you can love someone or somewhere yet love them warts an’all. Obviously, if you go around telling everyone about their anal warts, they won’t be best pleased. I’ve lost a few (female) friends from being honest and saying i didn’t think much of their (male) partner…maybe some people think that their choice of partner reflects directly on their own sense of themselves…iunno…it never bothered me when my friends used to say how aweful my ex (“Dirty Sanchez”) was and it turns out that she was far more aweful than they realised, I should have listened to them harder. I’m sure even the wife of Ian-Duncan Smith can admit “Yes, I love him and he’s a wonderful man but there really are times when I’m confinced he’s one of Satan’s minions, a demon incarnate.” Obviously that’s a bit harsh on Ian-Duncan Smith to focus on just him…all tories are aweful people, so naming just one is a bit much. Like the Waffen-SS, it would be harsh to single out one and say “Yes, Herr Flikk is a nice guy, but he does strike me as a bit too anti-semitic for my taste.”
Anyway, if you think you might be offended by what you interpret as negativity toward Madrid, then I suggest you don’t read this.

Another thing which might offend you is that I’ve included possibly the worst photograph taken of food. No, my balls are not in it, don’t worry. The worst photograph taken of food without my balls in it. And that’s saying something. I’ve taken some pretty aweful photos, you must admit.

Ok, lets sort of start. On Sunday 23rd August I left Madrid and went out to the mountains. La Pedriza to be specific

Public Transport in the city of Madrid is generally great, aside from in August. Unfortunately, the comunidad of Madrid has been goverened by a far-right government for the last 20 odd years. The word “public” to them is a swear word and privately owned cars became the king. It’s the only place I’ve lived in where the European No-car day is completely ignored and in fact has even more cars polluting the place and making horrific constant noise, pedestrians are treated like second class citizans and while my Metro pass has gone up more than 300% in the years I’ve lived here, my taxes have gone to paying for more and more roads for the car drivers to kill themselves on, when they’re not killing cyclists or at least trying to kill them. Madrid is a small city and you can walk anywhere you might want to visit, despite the car drivers trying to kill you (I think there is some sort of point system in operation that means they earn soemthing for every pedestrian or cyclist they injure or traumatise)…but going somewhere outside the city is problematic. There’s a (supposedly) lovely village in the mountains of Madrid called Rascafria, but the only bus during the week leaves Madrid at 9am and the only return bus leaves the village just after that bus from Madrid arrives…well, thanks for making the effort. One of the few possible places you can visit using public transport is La Perdiza, a mountain around a national park close to a village called Manzanares el Real which you can get to by catching the 724 bus from Plaza Castilla bus station. I can’t be more specific about where inside the bus station, because every time I’ve taken that bus it’s been in a different part of the bus station…at least when you have to catch a train to Hogwarts you know you just have to find platfrom 9 and 3/4. Once you arrive in Manzanres el Real it’s about an hour of quite a boring walk into the park itself. Luckily there’s a mini bus in operation in the summer at weekends. There’s 18 seats on board so you need to turn up a good while before it leaves and check with the people at the bus stop who is wating for that bus and “quién es el último”…the timetable is printed around the corner outside the Tourist Information centre. The bus takes about 10 minutes and sets you down at a car park, which is where you catch it to go back to the village. At the side of the car park are two chiringuitos (literally a tent in the woods, but mainly used for beach restaurants…I’m using it as sort of a combination of the two)

This is where I made for once getting out of the mini-bus.

Best thing they do is roast chicken, which is what i had with a salad

there it is in its full glory, the worst food photo ever shared. If its not obvious…i had half a roast chicken, a salad, haaat sauce, bread and two, count them…two! large cold beers. durr! 16€

My post lunch plan was to take a walk along the river in the park, maybe take a “dip” in the river (it’s a bit too shallow to actually have a dip…i was actually planning just to sit in the Manzanares’ cool waters). Unfotunately most comfortable places along the river were already taken by families or groups of teenagers (they were probably like 30 or so…but i’m old now, so anybody under 40 looks like a teenager. It was also a bit noisy to have a pleasent siesta there…noisy kids is one thing, you kind of expect kids to just scream constantly and annoy everybody else, it’s their job…what is truelly annoying is the ammounts of these young people who have decided to leave the city and come all the way to this idylic natural park…

….and decide this is the perfect place to play their shitty music through loud-speakers. Why fucking bother getting out of the car…sit in your shitty car and listen to your shitty music with your shitty girlfriend…why even leave your shitty car park in your shitty part of the city?

ok, that’s it….I did warn you!

Roll

There’s an American telly program called “man versus food”…basically it would never exist in any other country but is oddly compelling…basically this bloke who is slightly on the chubby side but not obese or anything, goes to a fast food place in America and they bet him he can’t eat their special because there’s either a ridiculous amount of it or it’s covered in super hot sauce that should be considered a war crime, or both. Sounds almost offensive, doesn’t it. Not sure how it would work in UK or RoI…you’d probably have to eat everything everybody in the place ordered and stop off in abrakebabra on the way home. Anyway, went to an American restaurant in Madrid for lunch a couple of days ago. My partner has gone on holiday and left me to take care of myself. Fuck it, easy come easy go…so I got another partner for lunch. The place is called ROLL, I assume as it’s specialties are things like pulled pork sandwiches, burgers and stuff served in a ROLL…although I didn’t think they called a roll a roll in the American colonies.. Maybe because rollo in Spanish is a one night shag with no consequences..though of course I could be mistranslating that in order to have a more relevant word for my own personal life.
We began by sharing a salad

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Salad with raf tomatoes, langostines, avocado in a honey dressing. Lovely and we weren’t able to finish that between us.
For main course I ordered a sandwich called a po’ boy…with prawns in it. Never heard of it before and I was unsure of the pronunciat

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ion

Came with loads of chips and an ironic nod to salad. My partner for the day had to live in America for many years so she advised me the only way you could physically eat an American sandwich was to put your hand over the top of it and press the whole thing down…when in Rome. Was delicious and i finished it.
My partner for the day ordered steak-frites, which I hadn’t realised was American…but obviously a thank you to the French for helping the Americans out with every war they’ve found themse

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lves in

I think steak is French for “whole dead cow cooked” but then I only did cse French. Mais oui, voulet vou? And the amount of chips was offensive…she’s only a wee girl. Not wanting to offend the waiter or get told off, we thought about hiding some of the food after giving up thirty minutes later with the plate still looking similar to the way it started.
Even if it had been forthcoming i don’t think I could have managed a rollo after lunch, or the next day.
Very nice place in terms of decor etc and pleasant enough but forgetful waiters. In conde duque. They
do Brunch which has taken over in Madrid much better than my “lea” (a late lunch or early tea..Maybe “trunch”is more memorable). It’s certainly not cheap, was not far off 60€ for the two of us with a bottle of alberiño…but you won’t need to eat again for a few days