Baby back ribs and Amurican fried potatoes, which I thought were scrumptiously decadent until some Russian tenor on the telly began singing Granada, and I suddenly recalled the cochinillo asodo at Restaurante Jose Maria in Segovia. Then the ribs seemed rather blase and the potatoes so many slivers of starch. Bloody television.
We used to dine at Jose Maria's two or three times a year. A most famous haunt with an excellent bill o' fare. If you care to see whence came the idea for Cinderella's castle at Disney World, you have only to scroll to the bottom of the page for a view of the Alcazar in Segovia. But be sure to click the El Cochinillo link to see the especial de la casa of which I speak.
http://restaurantejosemaria.com/
Even so, Jose Maria's is not a patch on Botins in Madrid, supposedly the world's oldest restaurant. It's in the Plaza Mayor close by the steps, if anyone's familiar with Madrid.
http://www.botin.es/?q=en
We would eat there two or three times a month. A five-course meal would set us back about $10.00 a head, about what a scoop of ice cream would cost these days. Heaven only knows what their baked Alaska now fetches; more than I can afford. Of course, we lived there during the evil days of the dictator (may his tribe cease and desist.) Thank goodness they're now a democracy, enjoying all the benefits of rampant crime and high unemployment. 40 years ago, they didn't know the meaning of such terms.
Anyway, the last thing I put in my mouth that really turned my crank was something at Botins in 1970, mostly likely ice cream and cafe con leche, to top of the gazpacho, trout, partridge, and steak. And I only weighed in as a flyweight! Must have been all the pitchers of sangria I dispatched that kept me in such good thrim.
