Food And The City

What I’ll take home from this experience in Madrid will not be memories of nights out with sangria or parties that last late into the wee hours, but instead something far more humble: baking. You’d think that having the ‘city that never sleeps’ at my fingertips would encourage the rebel part of me to make itself known, but no. When faced with such a metropolis of a city as Madrid is, I’ve drawn much comfort from spending an afternoon in the calm and comfort of the kitchen; experimenting, inventing and eating.

Now, don’t start thinking of me as a lonely social recluse, because I’m not. I love Madrid and I love spending an afternoon searching out its best shops or wandering around one of its many musueums. In fact, last weekend I was given the opportunity to share the city with my friend from England. I’ve known Erin for six years; we went to the same highschool, sixth form and we both left England at the same time to become au pairs. The only difference is, she’s a seven hour coach journey away up in the luscious green region of Galicia. So last Friday at 10 o’clock I greeted her. Despite seven hours on a coach and five hours waiting for me at the station, she was ready to explore Madrid, so we made our way to the hostel.

Needless to say, shared bathrooms, rickety bunk beds and paper thin sheets don’t get me too excited, however this hostel was at least clean and central. Unfortunately Erin and I couldn’t be put in the same room, so I got to look forward to a night  spent with nine other German strangers. How appealing.

Of course, the first thing on the to- do list was to find a restaurant and one of those infamous menus of the day: ten euros for three courses, a drink and bread – I’m not going to say no. So after finding one such establishment and stuffing ourselves silly, we headed to Sol for the obligatory tourist tour of the centre. One Christmas market stop later and it was off to Retiro, for a walk in the brilliant but weak afternoon sun. That evening was spent in the average Madrid fashion: with a good old trip to the English cinema to watch Harry Potter and then to a vending machine, to buy a toblerone for our dinner. Truly cultural stuff.

 Cupcakes at an amazing food market we discovered…

After a sursprisingly good night’s sleep (well, apart from being woken up by a group of people who thought that it was entirely okay to turn the light on and ‘whisper’ to each other – at six in the morning!!), we had breakfast and set off to start another say of exploration. The first stop was El Prado, Spain’s biggest art gallery. Unfortunately, it wasn’t really to our tastes. Erin loves art but has a thing against ‘Jesus paintings’, especially the ones that include podgy cherubs. Alas, in the Prado there were many.

Next it was time for a lunch of empanadilla, which is basically like a cornish pasty stuffed with mouthwatering beef or tuna. Then, being on a quest to eat as much as humanly possible on our trip, we headed to La Mallorquina for a hot chocolate and a slice of moist, coconuty cream cake.

After food, there must be drink. So in true classy, British fashion we popped into the supermarket to buy a suspiciously cheap bottle of sparkling wine (one euro!) and a 50 cent carton of sangria. Drinking the latter in the hostel lobby out of my plastic water bottle wasn’t my greatest moment. But hey, you need a bit of pre-drinking when you later discover that to get into a Spanish club it’ll set you back 16 euros. In fact, we become mighty friends with the metro that night; darting back and forth from Cheuca (it was only later that we found out this was the gay area of Madrid), to Tribunal, to Atocha, in search of a cheaper club. In the end, we failed. Then, at 2:30 in the morning, in the freezing cold, our metro let us down. Basically, it closed its doors to the public: “What, the metro stops runnig at two?! How is this even possible…but this is the city that never sleeps!”, was our basic reaction. So cold, tired and feeling slightly greasy from gorging on a kebab, we ordered a taxi to take us back to the hostel.

Oh, what a failure of a night. But hey, it was an experience, what more can I say? On Sunday the culture returned and we headed off to the Reina Sofia to see Picasso’s famous Guernica. As well as being free (always a plus), we both found this gallery so much more exciting than the Prado. It was modern, full of interesting exhibitions and it had a mighty fine gift shop.

And so came the end of Erin’s visit. We returned to the hostel to collect our bags and I accompanied her back to the station, to say goodbye, until Christmas…

Oh no, wait! Let me edit that, I’m actually seeing her tomorrow but I genuinely forgot. Yep, I’m heading up to Ourense to visit her and her host family for three days; promising trips to Santiago, A Coruna and hopefully some better Sangria.

Now, I’ll just reel in my thoughts and return them to the kitchen and Christmas and baking and orange and  cinnamon and spice and all things nice. So here is the epitome of all those musings: my very own Orange and Cinnamon Drizzle Cake. So simple, but oh so good….

 

 Ingredients:

• Two pots of natural yogurt (300g)
• 160ml olive oil
• 280g sugar
• 3 eggs
• 2 tsp baking powder
• ¾ tsp bicarbonate of soda
• 280g plain flour
• Tsp cinnamon
• The juice of one orange

For The Icing

• The juice of one orange
• 1/2 tsp cinnamon
•  granulated sugar

1. Set oven to 180 degrees
2. Combine all the ingredients and pour into a greased and lined cake tin
3. Cook for 45-50 minutes or until a knife comes out clean
4. To make the syrup heat the juice, cinnamon and sugar together. Add enough sugar so that you get a syrup consistency. Make small holes all over the cake using a tooth pick, then drizzle over and allow to soak in.