Tapas

"You like ham?" the waiter asked.  "You like bread?"  And so we were introduced to two of the Catalan specialties at Piscolabis  last night.

We have, mostly, no idea what we're ordering to eat.  But, then, it's one of the things that makes travelling, well, adventurous!  In the hotel bar, the waiter's English was only marginally better than our non-existent Spanish, so we just ordered the first three items on the menu - bravas, grilled baby squids, and foie and mushroom croquettes.  We asked the waiter what "bravas" was, and he said "potatoes", "fried" , "spicy" and, I swear, "ice cubes".  We ordered them anyway.  When our cavas arrived with what looked like potato chips, we figured they must be the bravas, since they were both potatoes and fried, though not spicy at all, and we had clearly mis-heard the ice cube bit.  Seemed a bit steep to pay €7.50 for potato chips, but, when in Barcelona ....

The bravas, which subsequently arrived, were squares of potatoes (like ice cubes!), deep fried, with a dollop of sauce on top.  And, yummy.  And a staple on the tapas menu, apparently.

I've decided that learning a second language, at least the syntax, is over-rated anyway.  At Piscolabis we said "wine?", the waiter said "white/red?", we said "white", he said "sweet/dry?", and I pointed at Tom and said "sweet" and at myself and said "dry".  He gave us a big smile, tapped his head as if to say "Got it!", returned with two bottles of wine and proceeded to pour us each a glass.  Excellent choice!

We had deep-fried artichokes and deep-fried brie with the ham and bread.  Tom has decided that he can live on the ham and bread alone, they're so good. 

I'm liking this close-your-eyes-and-point method of menu selection.