Food in Barcelona has been a big step up from France, although we still rely heavily on bread and cheese as our staples (and, consequently, I may need to staple my stomach when I get home if things continue as they are).
One of our favorite styles is pintxos, a Basque version of tapas, in which you pluck little open-faced sandwiches, each with a toothpick through it, from plates on a counter, somewhat like the conveyor belt sushi at Blue C in Fremont. When you’re done, you just hand them your plate, they count the toothpicks and you’ve got your bill.
I’ve also been enjoying the varieties of prosciutto available, sliced right from the pig’s leg when you buy it. Wrapped around a fig or a date, and it’s a sweet, fat, savory treat!
The chocolate shops of Europe are famous for good reason, and we’ve done our fair bit of indulging, including a snack on deep-fried churros dipped in hot chocolate at an old-school churroria that, we were told by Monica and Ivan, friends of the women staying in our house back in Seattle, has a line stretching down the block every Christmas morning.
