Granada Rocks! Whether you are a dreadlocked juggler with two dogs by your side or a sophisticated fine diner there is something here for you. It all kicks off at sunset in the Albayzin area, the old town on the hill that faces the spectacular and iconic Alhambra, and continues well into the morning. There must be hundreds of bars in this small area each of which serving their drinks “con tapa” which means that with every round comes a small dish on the house.
Some bars serve it big and simple maybe a jamon roll with fried potato aimed more at the dog owning juggler end of the market. You can walk in with around two euros and walk out with a full stomach and a beer. At the other end of the scale is Bodegas Casteneda where the atmosphere is electric and the food first class.
A tinto verano to quench the thirst accompanied by a simple potato frittata. Moist and tasty but nothing to write home about, the trick to the con tapa is that with every drink the food steps up a notch so hang in there for the long haul.
A glass of local white wine with a simple plate of steamed prawns served cold and ultra fresh.
Another glass of white with a dish of preserved salted cod with chilli, fresh orange and crunchy vegetables. Like a variation on the Mexican ceviche using the popular salted bacalao.
As we made our way through round three watching the crowd heave in and out and the waiters banter and frantically prepare the food and drink something caught our eye. A huge baked piece of fresh flaky cod with prawns swimming in melted herb butter. Not part of the free menu but too good not to order.
A Vermut straight from the barrel with ice, lemon and a dash of soda. The plate, a dark blood sausage, chewy chorizo and pale sausage with a liver pate texture served with fresh bread.
For around twenty five euros two of us walked out with an amazing local experience, an excited palate and enough of an alcohol buzz to want the night to continue. In Granada that will not be a problem.
Story by Wade Ranson
Photography by Wade Ranson and Michelle Ranson