Feast Your Eyes


Spanish Food Isn’t Really That Great, But The Italian Restaurants Here Are Incredible

Last night was supposed to be my last night in Spain. But then there was morning chaos and a strike at the airport, and I did not wind up getting onto any plane today. Apparently tonight will be my last night in Spain.

But we didn’t know that last night, so we celebrated. Not only that it was my last night, but that things would be okay, that we would always be able to talk and figure things out and make decisions together. We celebrated the abundance of opportunities.

Mostly we celebrated as an excuse to go to one of my favorite restaurants in Madrid The World: Paper Moon

Do you see those curling, glistening protein ribbons on top of this salad? What do you suppose that is? IT’S BACON, FRIENDS. Correction: it is the most perfectly-cooked and -seasoned bacon I’ve ever put into my mouth, and that is saying something, especially in Madrid, where “beicon” is usually a flacid, palid, bland sheet just sort of hanging off of your sandwich or burger.

And the sauce? That is a a mustard cream sauce. There’s arugula in there, guys, as well canĂ³nigos, cheese, raisins, and corn. Corn, really? With raisins? YES. Do not question the salad. Trust the salad. It is The Best Salad in the World.

Laura first introduced me to Paper Moon, when we were both living in Madrid. It’s near to her super-pijo former apartment, in the north. We went there for her birthday, and again as my last dinner before I moved back to Salt Lake. It’s a good place for last dinners. See that above? That is Pasta al Funghi—pasta, olive oil, a bit of vinegar and herbs, and an amazing variety of savory, meaty mushrooms. Oh, I love mushrooms. The salad is a must, but this was a new taste for me, and worth it. However, it pales in comparison to…

Pasta al Curry. Curry cream sauce, Friends, with chicken and thinly sliced apples, and red pepper, and maybe a bit of crack cocaine, who knows? I wouldn’t be surprised.

There was also red wine, and afterwards coffee that Kevin deemed “the best coffee so far in Madrid.” Then a long, long walk home along deserted Sunday night streets, buzzing and chatting from the caffeine and holding hands and sharing everything and never wanting the night to end.

But the night did end, Friends. And this morning we went to the airport, but I didn’t get on the plane. But I probably will tomorrow. Because it can’t all be amazing restaurants and long walks and quiet, late nights.

What I’m trying to say, Friends, is that I’m hungry. Time for lunch. See you later.