Labelled With Love
Basics
Location
Per person
A group of 13. A dozen shared dishes times three; several bottles of Luis Cañas; beer and drinks shared around
Chupito gratis.
€27 plus or minus
In not so many words
Hopes?
Lunch like mum would make.
First Impressions?
It's Bar Mcbar-face. And pretty small. All in all, a bit of a Squeeze.
A USP?
No. That is the selling point.
The food in three words?
Welcome to Spain.
Can they get the staff?
Yep, it's properly quick and helpful. You won't be messed around.
Service with a smile?
Absolutely. Couldn't be better. Thank you and Goodbye, girl with blue plaits.
Would you take your friends?
If it's a choice between beer with them or black coffee in bed, why not?
Rating for a dating?
Even if it's love, it's not really the place to help the Wedding Bells.
Tip?
Yes, if you're tempted.
If you could change one thing, what would it be?
Not quite cool for cats, more a bit chilly early on.
Going back?
Our footprints will be seen here again.
In not so few words
"That's a proper bar!"
How shall we define that? Square plates only used for serving? Circle that. Fruit machines? Jackpot. Football stuff (although not necessarily the right stuff) on the walls? Goal! Christmas lottery number up in September? We have a winner....
So Cerveceria Colon. Aka Casa Manolo.
So this is the proper stuff. Pulling mussels, not from a shell but a tin, which is naked, not labelled with love. And there's a plate of crisps-from-a-brown-bag to go with them, in time honoured fashion. Jolly big mussels it must be said. Patatas bravas with squirty probably supermarket bravas sauce on top. A plateful of pimientos padrón. Now, before you say anything, here's the latest -
Pimientos Padrón Update: No hot one encountered. A nation continues to fear for the future of its peppers.
Excellent strong hard cheese, but less exciting ham and lomo/cured loin. If it's not glowing freshly, it's not the best and it'd be better to not bother. Large tomato pepper and ventresca salad, but too much time in the fridge meant it was icy cold and lost some of its potential. Advice to salad makers: just chill about chilling it. Calamares were soft enough. Which means they were fresh enough.
Three versions of huevos rotos turned up. I'd have just gone for the chistorra one myself. Serrano and Gulas don't do it for me.
But I'm going to stop you before you say something again, again. Because you're right. There doesn't seem to be anything special about this. Which is the point, for once. They were exactly how you'd expect them to be. It's bloody egg, sausage and chips with the living daylights beaten out of it. Of course it is. And reliability, comfort and familairity are sometimes the point and sometimes, there's no place like home. If I said it was a local bar for local people? I'd be statin' the bleedin' obvious, obviously. Obviously.
Some very nicely done entrecot was the last thing to make an entrance, sitting there saying take me, I'm yours. Each sliced slice was about 30cm long before it was sliced. Nicely sliced. Fairly rarely done and needed a little strategic cutting needed here and there, but nothing to take the shine off.
And that's it. If you're V-minded you'll be on the bravas and pimientos, and that's almost your lot. But at least they're dead-on proper bravas and pimientos. Thing is, this the food you start from in this country and if you want to know how far things have come...
And I admit it. I couldn't figure out how to get Annie Get your Gun in there. I reckon a dozen Squeeze songs squeezed in is not too a bad score. And if you don't like it, stick it up your junction.
B.
Basics
Location
Per person
A group of 13. A dozen shared dishes times three; several bottles of Luis Cañas; beer and drinks shared around
Chupito gratis.
€27 plus or minus
In not so many words
Hopes?
Lunch like mum would make.
First Impressions?
It's Bar Mcbar-face. And pretty small. All in all, a bit of a Squeeze.
A USP?
No. That is the selling point.
The food in three words?
Welcome to Spain.
Can they get the staff?
Yep, it's properly quick and helpful. You won't be messed around.
Service with a smile?
Absolutely. Couldn't be better. Thank you and Goodbye, girl with blue plaits.
Would you take your friends?
If it's a choice between beer with them or black coffee in bed, why not?
Rating for a dating?
Even if it's love, it's not really the place to help the Wedding Bells.
Tip?
Yes, if you're tempted.
If you could change one thing, what would it be?
Not quite cool for cats, more a bit chilly early on.
Going back?
Our footprints will be seen here again.
In not so few words
"That's a proper bar!"
How shall we define that? Square plates only used for serving? Circle that. Fruit machines? Jackpot. Football stuff (although not necessarily the right stuff) on the walls? Goal! Christmas lottery number up in September? We have a winner....
So Cerveceria Colon. Aka Casa Manolo.
So this is the proper stuff. Pulling mussels, not from a shell but a tin, which is naked, not labelled with love. And there's a plate of crisps-from-a-brown-bag to go with them, in time honoured fashion. Jolly big mussels it must be said. Patatas bravas with squirty probably supermarket bravas sauce on top. A plateful of pimientos padrón. Now, before you say anything, here's the latest -
Pimientos Padrón Update: No hot one encountered. A nation continues to fear for the future of its peppers.
Excellent strong hard cheese, but less exciting ham and lomo/cured loin. If it's not glowing freshly, it's not the best and it'd be better to not bother. Large tomato pepper and ventresca salad, but too much time in the fridge meant it was icy cold and lost some of its potential. Advice to salad makers: just chill about chilling it. Calamares were soft enough. Which means they were fresh enough.
Three versions of huevos rotos turned up. I'd have just gone for the chistorra one myself. Serrano and Gulas don't do it for me.
But I'm going to stop you before you say something again, again. Because you're right. There doesn't seem to be anything special about this. Which is the point, for once. They were exactly how you'd expect them to be. It's bloody egg, sausage and chips with the living daylights beaten out of it. Of course it is. And reliability, comfort and familairity are sometimes the point and sometimes, there's no place like home. If I said it was a local bar for local people? I'd be statin' the bleedin' obvious, obviously. Obviously.
Some very nicely done entrecot was the last thing to make an entrance, sitting there saying take me, I'm yours. Each sliced slice was about 30cm long before it was sliced. Nicely sliced. Fairly rarely done and needed a little strategic cutting needed here and there, but nothing to take the shine off.
And that's it. If you're V-minded you'll be on the bravas and pimientos, and that's almost your lot. But at least they're dead-on proper bravas and pimientos. Thing is, this the food you start from in this country and if you want to know how far things have come...
And I admit it. I couldn't figure out how to get Annie Get your Gun in there. I reckon a dozen Squeeze songs squeezed in is not too a bad score. And if you don't like it, stick it up your junction.
B.
