You can't always get what you want
Sapori Italiane is now closed.
Basics
Per Person
1/3 Bottle of wine, pizza/pasta main
With El Tenedor discount on food; €11. Without, €14-15.
Gratis: Limoncello
In Short
Hopes? Pizzas like mama used to...go out for.
Reality? Mama. she must like cheese.
First Impressions? It's a kitchen with tables around the market.
A USP? Price!
The food in three words? Not enough options!
Can they get the staff? One guy serving, two cooking.
Service with a smile? Yep, more than happy to move a table or two around to suit us. Nice.
Would you take your friends? Perhaps. If they're on a budget. And omniverous.
Rating for a dating? Location's not bad, although some might say the lighting doesn't do the mood any favours.
Tip?5%.
If you could change one thing, what would it be? We said it was OK to put some music on. What a mistake, to make. Volare it wasn't.
Going back? With so many other good Italian options around, perhaps. If we're counting the pennies.
In Pictures
Facebook album
In Depth
Pizza time in the Mercado Barcelo.
As well as the new food court bit, which looks quite swish, some stalls open in the evening serving dinner. It's nothing like as buzzing as, say Vallehermoso, but it's arguably early days.
Our plan was simple. Italian for less than €20. We succeeded, although there's a big proviso.
Simply. Th had no starters for vegetarians. And no desserts without nutella.
Things looked promising, Foccaccia mista sounded good. A couple of pestos? Some olives? Decent oil? We'd not complain at all. But, sadly no. Mista meant, perhaps obviously, mixed sausage.
Yep, Sadly. Pork. Porca miseria!
Main courses restored the faith a bit. Two pizzas were suitably simple in their Italianness, and, glory be, those previously pesky pork products were actually Italian da vero. How fickle we are. Mind you, they ought to be good as there's an Italian produce stall one floor down, but that's no guarantee. So, prosciutto cotto kept some tinned mushrooms company on one and there was some oomph to the salami on the other.
But. Both suffered from the ancient damnation of Madrid pizza production. The queso curse, if you will.
TOO MUCH
CHEESE!
Good news is there was just about enough tomato (another common Madrid problem) and a V-pizza was on offer as well as a multi-cheese one. And on the pasta front there were a couple of V-options. We've got HK to comment on the courgette tagliatelle;
More good news. And more to come. There may only be the one red wine on the menu, but €13 for a bottle of Montepulciano is not to be sniffed at.
But...good luck was about to desert us, as they failed to dessert us. Running a kitchen and adding table service on might mean you're a smidge limited in offerings. But an Italian place with no gelato, sorbet or tiramisu? Can it happen?
It did.
Nutella dessert with a name I couldn't pronounce then and can't spell now. Or...nutella pizza. You're right. That's....nuts.
I was once forcefed six nutella sandwiches in 2 minutes in a deranged game at a birthday party. A 32nd birthday party. I can still feel them at the back of my throat to this day. They haven't quite gone down yet. So a nutella fiesta? Thankyou, no. It's like offering Doctor Jones a free holiday at Snakeworld. And, yes, there is such a place.
Service was fine. A friendly beardy bloke arranged tables to suit us and offered to turn up the music. Disastrously, this turned out to be mind-numbingly awful eurodance rather than some classy Dino, Frank or Joe. In a bright, flourescent-lit market, you need all the atmosphere you can create, lads.
So this ends up largely a non-review. A shame. We liked what we had, the service was good, the location a bit quirky. But there wasn't the chance to try more. Whatchagonnado?
Now, of course, as an old bloke with big lips would remind us,
And, we accept, as his stoned-to-next-Thursday compadre would note,
But, no, we didn't get enough satisfaction. Though we tried. And we tried.
I guess Mick and Keith were never confronted with a choice of nutella or nutella, now, were they? Or were they? It might explain that mars bar.
Sapori Italiane is now closed.
Basics
Per Person
1/3 Bottle of wine, pizza/pasta main
With El Tenedor discount on food; €11. Without, €14-15.
Gratis: Limoncello
In Short
Hopes? Pizzas like mama used to...go out for.
Reality? Mama. she must like cheese.
First Impressions? It's a kitchen with tables around the market.
A USP? Price!
The food in three words? Not enough options!
Can they get the staff? One guy serving, two cooking.
Service with a smile? Yep, more than happy to move a table or two around to suit us. Nice.
Would you take your friends? Perhaps. If they're on a budget. And omniverous.
Rating for a dating? Location's not bad, although some might say the lighting doesn't do the mood any favours.
Tip?5%.
If you could change one thing, what would it be? We said it was OK to put some music on. What a mistake, to make. Volare it wasn't.
Going back? With so many other good Italian options around, perhaps. If we're counting the pennies.
In Pictures
Facebook album
In Depth
Pizza time in the Mercado Barcelo.
As well as the new food court bit, which looks quite swish, some stalls open in the evening serving dinner. It's nothing like as buzzing as, say Vallehermoso, but it's arguably early days.
Our plan was simple. Italian for less than €20. We succeeded, although there's a big proviso.
Simply. Th had no starters for vegetarians. And no desserts without nutella.
Things looked promising, Foccaccia mista sounded good. A couple of pestos? Some olives? Decent oil? We'd not complain at all. But, sadly no. Mista meant, perhaps obviously, mixed sausage.
Yep, Sadly. Pork. Porca miseria!
Main courses restored the faith a bit. Two pizzas were suitably simple in their Italianness, and, glory be, those previously pesky pork products were actually Italian da vero. How fickle we are. Mind you, they ought to be good as there's an Italian produce stall one floor down, but that's no guarantee. So, prosciutto cotto kept some tinned mushrooms company on one and there was some oomph to the salami on the other.
But. Both suffered from the ancient damnation of Madrid pizza production. The queso curse, if you will.
TOO MUCH
CHEESE!
Memo
To: Anyone doing pizza with any aspiration to be Italian.
From: People who like Italian-style pizza.
The cheese should be in the more or less the same proportion as the other toppings, NOT doing for the tomato what the ash from Vesuvius did for Pompeii.
Too much of the stuff and you end up so full you can't enjoy the rest of it! Pah!
Good news is there was just about enough tomato (another common Madrid problem) and a V-pizza was on offer as well as a multi-cheese one. And on the pasta front there were a couple of V-options. We've got HK to comment on the courgette tagliatelle;
The pasta sauce was creamy without being made of cream (if you know what I mean), it was a good sized portion, and I enjoyed covering it with mostly fresh cheese. It could've done with some cracked black pepper, but then I didn't ask. I'd say it was more like wide linguine than tagliatelle.
More good news. And more to come. There may only be the one red wine on the menu, but €13 for a bottle of Montepulciano is not to be sniffed at.
But...good luck was about to desert us, as they failed to dessert us. Running a kitchen and adding table service on might mean you're a smidge limited in offerings. But an Italian place with no gelato, sorbet or tiramisu? Can it happen?
It did.
Nutella dessert with a name I couldn't pronounce then and can't spell now. Or...nutella pizza. You're right. That's....nuts.
I was once forcefed six nutella sandwiches in 2 minutes in a deranged game at a birthday party. A 32nd birthday party. I can still feel them at the back of my throat to this day. They haven't quite gone down yet. So a nutella fiesta? Thankyou, no. It's like offering Doctor Jones a free holiday at Snakeworld. And, yes, there is such a place.
Service was fine. A friendly beardy bloke arranged tables to suit us and offered to turn up the music. Disastrously, this turned out to be mind-numbingly awful eurodance rather than some classy Dino, Frank or Joe. In a bright, flourescent-lit market, you need all the atmosphere you can create, lads.
So this ends up largely a non-review. A shame. We liked what we had, the service was good, the location a bit quirky. But there wasn't the chance to try more. Whatchagonnado?
Now, of course, as an old bloke with big lips would remind us,
You can not always acquire
what you desire.
And, we accept, as his stoned-to-next-Thursday compadre would note,
Sometimes if you aspire,
you can obtain what you require.
But, no, we didn't get enough satisfaction. Though we tried. And we tried.
I guess Mick and Keith were never confronted with a choice of nutella or nutella, now, were they? Or were they? It might explain that mars bar.
