in praise of sardines

Barcelona - La Boqueria and Pinotxo

I rented a flat in Barcelona really for one reason. I had a fantasy about shopping at the famous Mercat de la Boqueria and then using its pristine ingredients to prepare fabulous meals. As can happen when expectations are high, initially at least, events didn't quite work out as I had hoped.

My main problem was timing. I had arrived in Barcelona on a Saturday night and the markets were closed until Monday. So with high hopes (and nursing a small hangover from too much cava the night before), I headed to the market Monday morning, quite a bit later than I had planned. When I arrived at around 11, the place was overrun with camera-toting tourists. Half the stalls were closed, and there was only one fishmonger. I watched as a the few remaining sellers were bombarded by the paparazzi as if they were Becks and Posh or Madonna. It was depressing and I was devastated. Clearly all the real sellers have left and gone on vacation to avoid the tourists (I was wrong, but we'll get to that later).

So in a bit of a funk, I sidled up to the bar of Pinotxo (located to the right of the main entrance) and plunked myself down on a the same stool I sat on a year ago. A happy welcome from the ever ebullient 70-year-old Juanito Bayen began to cheer me up. He greeted me, as he does everyone, as if I had been coming there for years. Yes, of course, I would like a cava. What's Albert (Juanito's nephew) cooking today? Salt cod salad with lentils (esqueixada) sounds perfect to start. Lamb stew with mushrooms to follow--why not? By the time I had finished my cortado (espresso with a little milk) and said goodbye to the touring musicians from New York who had lunch on the neighboring stools, my spirit had lifted. Pinotxo, and particularly its owner Juanito, has that effect on people.

Barcelona - lunch on the beach

The next day, with the markets and most decent restaurants closed, I headed to the same place everyone else in Barcelona, tourist and local, seems to go on Sundays in summer, to the beachside fish and paella restaurants of Barceloneta. Last year, my wife and I went to the excellent and recommended Can Majó twice, so I decided to visit another place, Julius, but was saddened to discover it no longer existed. My other option, located next door to where Julius used to stand, turned out to be a winner.

I noticed that, as displayed in the window, the chef of El Suquet de l'Almirall (Passeig Joan de Borbó, 65, tel. 932-216233), Quim Marqués, has published a cookbook in Catalan called "La Cuina de la Barceloneta" (The Cuisine or Kitchen of Barceloneta). This was proof enough for me that he knew his way around the kitchen, so I settled into a nice table on the terrace with a view of the passing parade of beachgoers.

I started my meal with a divine bowl of steamed white cockles (berberechos al vapor in Spanish) that were tender and tasted of the sea. Unlike the clams marketed in the United States as cockles, these are true cockles, with a beautifully colored bright orange hook that protrudes from each morsel. The salty juices were so good, I soaked up every drop with some pa amb tomaquet.

Barcelona - El Xampanyet and Cal Pep

As much as I enjoyed the Basque region, I was thankful to arrive in Barcelona late Saturday night.  By nature I am a city person. I am happiest when I am surrounded by the chaos and diversity that a grand city like Barcelona

I am especially excited because I rented a small apartment here. To a cook, this of course means I have a kitchen (and I am thankful to report a nicely equiped kitchen, with a four-burner stove, an oven, plenty of pots and pans, cutlery and more staples than I ever expected, including extra virgin olive oil, red wine vinegar and sea salt). All for the price of a hotel room. From now on, I can't imagine travelling any other way.

The problem, however, with arriving in Barcelona on a Saturday night is all the great markets (like la Boqueria) and even the supermarkets are closed until Monday. Of course, once again, I didn't have reservations anywhere, so I set out to go to a place I knew well from my visit last year, Cal Pep (Plaça de les Olles, 8). Unfortunately, by the time I arrived at 10, the coveted counter seats were all full and the wait exceeded an hour.  "No problem. I come again more later," I told the waiter (or something along those lines.  I studied Catalan for just a couple of months, so it's undoubtedly incomprehensable (no fault of the excellent and recommended Teach Yourself Catalan book and CD).

San Sebastián - Gastronomic Brotherhood

There's always something exciting happening in San Sebastián/Donostia.  Last week alone, a surfing festival ended, a jazz festival began, beaches were full of sunbathers, streets were (briefly) full of rioters and police...a typical summertime week in this beautiful, slightly crazy city.

On my next to last day there, I had the good fortune to lunch at one of the famous Basque gastronomic societies.  My host was Germán Arrien, director of both the local convivium, or branch, of Slow Food, and of one of the largest gastronomic societies, Cofradía Vasca de Gastronomía (roughly translated as the Basque Brotherhood of Gastronomy).

Gastronomic societies are an institution unique to the Basque country, and particularly to San Sebastián.  In existence for the last century or so, they are a place where men--until very recently, they were exclusively the domain of men--go to gather to cook, eat, drink and discuss cooking, eating, drinking...oh, and occasionally politics.  Germán told me that, typically, even outside of the clubs, Basques spend about half of a conversation discussing epicurean topics, such as where to get the best pintxos or a good recipe for marmitako (a traditional fisherman's stew).  If this all sounds too good to you, don't pack up and sell your house just yet--the typical gastronomic society, like the one we visited, has a long waiting list, with spaces only becoming available when a member passes away.

San Sebastián - tiny, tasty pintxos

La Cuchara de San Telmo

Despite the presence of a veritable constellation of Michelin stars in San Sebastián, I mainly came here to eat pintxos, the local form of tapas. The Basques, and in particular the Donostiarrans, have elevated these small dishes to an art form. Pintxos at the finest bars are haute-cuisine in miniature, tiny culinary jewels akin to the amuse-bouche that begins a meal at the finest restaurants. In fact, their intent is to serve a similar purpose, to whet the appetite before you move onto a sit-down meal at another restaurant. To accompany your pintxos, you generally order a glass of the local txakoli wine or a zurrito, a 6-oz. pour of draft beer.

Some nights, however, pintxos became my entire meal, a progression of courses not unlike a tasting menu, but only costing $2.50-3.50 each. Depending on the place, 6 or 8 would make a satisfying light meal. Throughout my week in San Sebastián, I ate at more than a dozen pintxos bars in the Old Quarter and the Gros neighborhood.

Two bars stood out from the crowd: Aloña Berri in Gros and La Cuchara de San Telmo in the Old Quarter. Interestingly, in atmosphere they couldn't be more different.

San Sebstián - "Hay Sardinas" in Getaria

I had been agonizing over which of the two well-known seafood restaurants I would have my lunch at in the small port town of Getaria, a half-hour bus ride from San Sebastian. Both share nearly identical menus, specializing in fish grilled outside a la parilla (also known as a la brasa), over an open fire. Kaia Kaipe offers a great portside location and the opportunity to eat on their terrace -- but what if that meant it was touristy? Elkano, up the street away from the port, is reputed by some to be slightly better.

Then I spied the sign. "HAY SARDINAS."  That alone was enticement enough for a sardine-lover like myself.  Then when I learned I could have the table with a clear view of the grill, the last available table on the terrace, I knew Kaia Kaipe was the right choice.  I think the waitress was amused when I opted to dine facing the outdoor grill rather than the supposedly more desirable view of the port.

Water is water, though. How often do you get to see a gorgeous 10-foot long outdoor grill built into the side of a restaurant. It's the stuff of fantasies for any grill cook. And I had front row seats to the show.

San Sebastián - Introduction

I am currently in San Sebastián, known in the local Basque language as Donostia. San Sebastián is renowned as a gastronomic wonderland, with more Michelin stars per capita in the immediate vicinity than any other city. Arzak and Martín Berasategui lead the pack with the maximum three stars, Akelarre and Zuberoa with two each and Mugaritz, Fagollada and Miramón Arbelaitz with one a piece.

However, as I've mentioned before, my personal interests lie more in becoming acquainted with the traditional, regional cooking of Spain. San Sebastián has much to offer in this category of dining, too. First, it is the capital of pintxos (roughly pronounced peen-chos), the Basque version of tapas that are reputed to be the best in Spain (although some in Andalucía would no doubt dispute that claim). Second, being a port city on the Atlantic, San Sebastián and, more famously, the nearby town of Getaria are renowned for their restaurants that specialize in freshly caught fish grilled over an open fire. Third, the local men take their traditional cooking so seriously that they have organized gastronomic brotherhoods and compete annually to decide who is the best.

I've decided to divide my posts on the Basque country into several categories, roughly along the lines outlined above. I'll guide you through a tour of my favorite pintxos bars. Then we'll explore the excellent local market, La Bretxa (La Brecha in Spanish), to check out the beautiful fish and travel to Getaria to taste it (I just got back and, yes, they had sardines!). Next, and I'm very excited about this, I managed to snag an invitation to lunch (tomorrow) at the Cofradía Vasca de Gastronomía, one of the Basque gastronomic societies. Finally, I hope to take you along to a meal at one of the area´s culinary jewels (if I can get a last minute reservation).

Valencia - Part 3 (La Matandeta)

As I mentioned in my first post on Valencia, my original reason for visiting the city was to sample authentic paella. Through eGullet posts and Spanish restaurant critic Rafael García Santos, I had learned that the most authentic paella outside of people's homes was to be found at a restaurant in the countryside about an hour's drive from Valencia in Alicante called Paco Gandía. Paco Gandía cooks the paella over a fire and its ingredients are the traditional rabbit, snails, two kinds of shell beans and two kinds of green beans. You'll notice that there is no seafood in this original paella, which is a dish of the countryside, traditionally cooked by men over an open fire and only eaten at lunch.

Regrettably, I didn't arrange to rent a car in advance and the prices were too high, so I opted for Plan B. Based on Colman Andrew's recommendation in last month's edition of Saveur, I took a long taxi through the rice fields of the Albufera to La Matandeta (Carretera Alfafar-El Saler, technically in the town of Alfafar, but actually closer to El Saler, tel. 34-962-11-21-84), a farmhouse that has been converted into a restaurant. I grew nervous as the car drove on and on past abandoned stone buildings and the driver confessed he had no idea where the restaurant could be.

Valencia - Part 2 (Ca' Sento)

If you read my last post, you know that, for me, visiting the seafood section of Valencia's Mercado Central was akin to an art lover visiting the Louvre. Mindblowing. That same night I tasted the best the market had to offer at the city's best restaurant, Ca' Sento, which has received 2 stars (actually only 1 star, believe it or not--silly French guide) from the French Guide Michelin (although, aside from a location in a somewhat dicey neighborhood, it deserves to be upgraded to 3) and 3 solés from the more reliable Spanish equivalent, the Guia Campsa.

Within Spain, the chef of Ca' Sento, Raúl Alexandre, is renowned for procuring the best products, so I knew his restuarant would be my kind of a restaurant. As a devoted member of the Slow Food movement and a follower of Alice Waters, I am more interested in restaurants that value the intrinsic taste and characteristics of the raw product than in those that serve as a stage for a particular chef's creative whims. I want my food to express the unique taste of a particular place (local) and time (seasonal). While I admittedly do find some of the creative food amusing, in my opinion it appeals more to the intellect than the senses and the heart. I'll leave it to others to clamor to get a table at El Bulli or the French Laundry (although if you're planning to cancel those reservations, I'd be happy to help you out, for the sake of research).

This is a long, blow-by-blow description of my meal that I don't expect everyone will want to read. The important point is that I think what Raúl Alexandre is doing at Ca' Sento is what all chefs and restaurants should aspire to. It is what all fine dining should be about. The dinner, which I consider the best in my life up to now, highlighted the most pristine seasonal products available locally. I could not expect to eat this meal anywhere else and could never recreate it. My meal had what the French call terroir, a sense of place, and unfolded like a story or a painting of Valencia. The lesson, for me, is the importance of cooking with whatever ingredients are best where you are, of showcasing your region's finest jewels.  (Click here for a slide show of the dishes).

Valencia - Part 1 (Mercado Central)

When I started to plan this trip a couple of months ago, I decided to include a couple of days in Valencia, mainly because I wanted to taste authentic paella at its source. But I frankly didn't know much about the city, except that it is the third largest in Spain. I was excited, then, when last month's Saveur included an article on Valencia by Colman Andrews calling it one of the most exciting gastronomic destinations in the country. After two short days there, I regret that I didn't allot more more time in this beautiful city.

I will not mince words here: if you are a food lover, particularly a lover of fresh fish and seafood, then you must come to Valencia. This is a command, not a suggestion. A visit to the Mercado Central is alone worth the cost of the trip. Built in the first three decades of the twentieth century, this enclosed marketplace is vast, more than 8,000 square meters (if my math is correct, approximately 80,000 square feet). Demonstrating the value Valencianos place on the importance of food, a glance at a map shows that the market takes up more square footage than the city's cathedral. The central dome atop of the cavernous marketplace rises ten stories, also comparable to a cathedral.

Tarragona, home of romesco sauce

People come to Tarragona, about an hour south of Barcelona, for two reasons.  First, they come to visit the city´s many Roman ruins which are scattered throughout and around the city.  In particular, I enjoyed the Roman ampitheater situated right on the beach.

The second reason, however, is the one which drew me to this Mediterranean city:  romesco sauce.  I am in Spain to taste the authentic flavors of the country's best products at their source.  According to David Solé i Torné, author of a book (in Catalan) on romesco and the chef/owner of Restaurant Barquet (C/Gasòmetre, 16, tel. 34-977-24-00-23), romesco is a sauce made in the mortar and pestle whose principal ingredients include locally grown dried romesco peppers (or ñora peppers from the north), local bitxo peppers or cayenne, almonds, hazelnuts, tomato, garlic, bread, olive oil, vinegar, and wine.

Priorat - Part 7 (return of the appetite, Catalonian surf and turf)

My appetite returned today.  After a morning visit to a local lead sulfate mine, which was the main industry in the Priorat for the 100 years prior to 1970, we visited our final winery of the trip.  Finca Mas d'en Gil, located in Bellmunt del Priorat, produces a white, Coma Blanca, and two reds, Coma Vella and their higher end Clos Fontà.  Like the other wineries we have visited, these wines, which are part of the Priorat denominación de origen, have received high scores from Robert Parker.  I enjoyed the tour of this operation, which compared to the other properties we've visited, seemed relatively slick and well-capitalized.  Mind you, we're not talking Napa Valley here.  We toured the vines sitting in the back of a pickup truck!  Of the wines, I preferred the Clos Fontà, with its darker fruit and notes of blueberry and minerals.

Priorat - Part 6 (stomach goes on strike)

Apparently my stomach has decided to assert itself over my taste buds, as it has protested my attempts at adding any more food or wine to my gullet.  No vacancy.  This is a novel sensation for me, as rarely have I lost my appetite.  Oddly, there is no food poisoning or gastronomic discomfort.  I just cannot eat.

In fairness to Catalonian cuisine, our diet this week at Catacurian has not been typical.  With the goal of presenting to us the broadest spectrum of traditional food, our host Alicia has been feeding us the equivalent, In America, of a Thanksgiving dinner every night.  If you have been following my blog recently, you´ll know that just two short weeks ago I survived on a strict low-fat, high-fiber vegetarian diet for a week at a Zen Buddhist monastery in California.  The sharp contrast in the two weeks must have confused the poor old digestive system.

Priorat - Part 5 (monks and ducks)

Our destination today was the famous Scala Dei monastery, founded in the twelfth century. Surrounded by the red cliffs of the Priorat, the setting of the monastery, now in ruins, was breathtaking.

Keeping to the food theme of my blog, we saw how the monks lived their lives in austerity, only receiving their food through a small window in their individual hermitages. Each hermitage was, however, quite large (approximately 1500 square feet), so there was room for a fruit and vegetable garden in the hermitage's central courtyard. All of the harvest, however, was donated to the people in the neighboring town. The monks were vegetarian with one exception. If they fell ill or weak, they were given a soup made from the turtles that resided in a nearby pond.

We then visited a winery, much lauded by Robert Parker, in the village of Scala Dei. La Conreria d'Scala Dei produces four wines: a golden white called Nona (100% garnacha blanca), a red called La Conreria made from younger vines and a red called Iugiter made from vines older than 50 years. There are two levels of the Iugiter, Iugiter (mostly garnacha negra and a little cabernet sauvignon) and Iugiter Selecció (60% garnacha, 30% cabernet and 10% cariñena). At the winery, we sampled cariñena from the barrel that stained our teeth black. Cariñena contributes its deep purple to the Priorat and Montsant wines, while cherry red garnacha negra provides aroma and flavor. This cariñena, from 75-year-old vines, indicates that the 2004 harvest may be as good as the 1998 or 2000, the best of the recent vintages in the Priorat.

Priorat - Part 4 (Spain is No. 1 and paella-palooza)

Today was marketing day! Few people love to visit markets more than I. When traveling, I spend more time in markets than in museums, palaces and beaches combined. My fellow culinarians and I visited a beautifullly maintained moderniste city called Reus. Reus thoroughly charmed me. The town's indoor market is spectacular (check out these roosters, for example), a smaller and less touristy version of Barcelona's famous La Boqueria.

As usual, the selection of fresh Spanish seafood (like this scorpion fish) brought on an immense case of envy, causing me to pause dreamily at real estate ads posted outside a nearby office. According to Spanish cuisine expert Penelope Casas, Spaniards eat nearly twice as much seafood per capita as any other country in Europe. Only the Japanese consume more. The freshness and variety is, in my opinion, unsurpassed anywhere, so why eat anything else? If the quality of the unique Spanish varieties of pork and lamb weren't also equally enticing, they probably wouldn't.

I will say it here for the first time, but will undoubtedly repeat it often in this blog. I believe Spain has the best seafood, pork, lamb and olive oil in Europe. Yes, better than even Italy, France and Greece. My friends and colleagues question my sudden facination with Spain. I answer: visit the markets. See, smell, touch and taste the products. It will blow your mind. Of course, this opinion is about as popular in the culinary world, which in America at least is still under the spell of decades of French and Italian cooking (and marketing) skills, as my love for all kinds of fat, but I stand by my convictions.

Priorat - Part 3 (olive oil on ice cream and the love of fat)

This morning we enjoyed a breakfast of pa amb tomaquet, local figs, and two kinds of truita (Catalan for the Spanish tortilla, similar to the Italian fritatta) that we, the students, made last night. One was the traditional potato and onion and the second was white bean and green garlic.

Afterwards we headed to our first winery of the Priorat. The main difference between the Montsant and Priorat denominación de origen is the soil. In Montsant the soil is iron rich, red and clay-like, whereas in Priorat it's inhospitable slate. From what I've learned about wine grapes, the more the vines have to struggle to survive, the better the wine. The roots here need to stretch down more than 50 feet below the surface through jagged layers of slate to access their water. It's reminiscent of the rocks that the vines endure in Cornas.

The winery we visited was Costers del Siurana, maker of some of Priorat's finest red wines, Clos de l'Obac, a full-bodied blend of garnacha, cabernet, syrah, merlot and cariñena, and Miserere, the same but substituting tempranillo for syrah. They also make a unique white called Kyrie. It is a round, highly aromatic blend of white garnacha, muscat and two local varieties used in the Penedes to make Cava, Macabeu and Xarel.lo (in Catalan, the period between two L's means they are both pronounced like an L in English; otherwise they would sound like the LL in "million"). I first tasted Kyrie earlier this year at Le Bernadin in New York, where it was paired beautifully with their famous ragoût of sea urchin, scallop, langoustine, clam and caviar. It is one of the most unusual whites I have ever tried and I highly recommend it.

Priorat: Part 2 (black wine, pineapple carpaccio and salt cod tripe)

On our second day, we visited one of the finest wineries of the Montsant denominación de origen, Joan d'Anguera in Darmós. The young and disarmingly charming winemakers, brothers Joan and Josep, greeted us and led us on a tour and tasting of their goods. One of their wines, El Bugader, was recently called one of the best wines in all of Spain by the influential Robert Parker (I'll save my Parker rant for another post, because in this case he is right). One look at the 2002 vintage of this wine and you understand why the Catalan term for red wine is vi negre (black wine). Mostly Syrah, with some garnacha and cabernet sauvignon, this spicy monster needs about 5 more years before it will fully open up and achieve its glory. I also loved their sweet red dessert wine, which had notes of cacao, almonds and orage peel and cried out for a rich chocolate dessert, but alas it is not exported.

After a visit to a local ceramic shop to pick up a beautiful new mortar and pestle (my third), we lunched at an adorable bistro in Falset with just 20 seats. Run by a husband and wife, El Cairat (C/Nou, 3, Falset, tel. 34-977-830481) served modern interpretations on traditional Caltalonian food. We started with my favorite sardines, lightly marinated and served with olive oil, lemon confit, pimenton and dried poppy seed flowers. Scrumptious. Our second course was a lovely fresh fettucine with a light tomato sauce, oregano and mozzarella. Catalonia, being near Italy, is the only region of Spain that serves pasta. Cannaloni are especially popular. Our main course was loin of my other favorite, pork. But this was not just any pork, but the king of pigs, the acorn-fed Iberian black-hoofed pig. After an intermezzo of watermelon sorbet, dessert was a show stopper: paper-thin slices of pineapple carpaccio with crema catalana, similar to crème brulée, spooned in the middle. This was a lovely contrast flavors and textures, creamy, tangy, smooth and crunchy.

Priorat: Part 1 (fish soup and black-footed pigs)

I arrived in Barcelona yesterday!  With some trepidation, I had blindly signed up with a group called Catacurian that advertises on the internet as a culinary tour of the Priorat, one of Spain's most interesting wine regions.  The hook that caught me was the promise of a week's worth of lessons in traditional Catalonian cuisine, which I had so thoroughly enjoyed on my visit to Barcelona last summer.  My nervousness was put to rest the moment I stepped foot in the house in the small town of El Masroig (mahs-roach), a 2-hour drive south of Barcelona, inland from Tarragona.  The owner of the renovated 100-year old house and cook extraordinaire is Alicia Juanpere.

Alicia's grandfather owned the stone house, called Can Miquelet del Mano, and she and her partner Jonathan Perret bought the house in 2002 and completely renovated it to transorm it into a charming 3-room hotel and cooking school.  The rooms are exquisitely decorated, comfortable and more luxurious than I had anticipated. The focal point of the house is appropriately the kitchen, which juxtaposes the most modern appliances with locally made terra cotta cazuelas and ceramic mortars and pestles.  There is a small herb garden off the kitchen shaded by a mulberry and an almond tree.  And, of course, downstairs is a winelover's dream cellar, stocked with all the finest wines of the local Priorat and Montsant wine regions. With room for a maximum of 6 guests at a time (just 5 this week), I feel like I am visiting a friend's house rather than taking a tour.  Alicia and her assistant Noelle, a former cook at San Francisco's Firefly who now lives in Barcelona, are generous with their hospitality.

Yes, yes. That's fine and nice, you say, but how is the food and the wine?  In a word, breathtaking.  Alicia spares no expense to procure the finest local products and wines.  For lunch on our first day we enjoyed a spread of artisanal charcuterie and cheeses.  Of course, there was the famous jamon de bellota from the black-footed Iberico pigs fed on a diet of acorns, which is still not allowed to be imported into the United States. Made from the same pigs, there was also paprika-cured loin (lomo), a pork terrine with spinach, pine nuts and raisins and the best spicy chorizo I have ever tasted.  This was all served, naturally, with the local specialty of pa amb tomaquet, bread rubbed with tomato and drizzled with olive oil, and a glasses of the local sparkler, Cava, and a quaffable red from the Montsant.

New York: Tia Pol

Before I headed off to Spain for the month of July, one of the last restaurants I chose to visit was, oddly, Spanish. I had enjoyed a fabulous meal at Casa Mono when I was last in New York in April, but I didn't have time to go to Tia Pol, a cute little tapas bar in the Chelsea neighborhood. In April, I had passed by the tiny sliver of a restaurant and was immediately smitten. I have a soft spot for little restaurants with a lot of personality, mainly because that's the kind of restaurant I have always dreamed of opening.

I am happy to report that my little crush has blossomed into a love affair. If I lived in New York, I would become a regular here. Tia Pol, apparently named after a neighborhood cat the owners became acquainted with when living in Spain, is an authentic tapas bar. It's the kind of place you hope to find in Madrid, but often only do if you know someone who loves food. The food is flavorful and cleverly presented and the service is charming.

We started with the only good gazpacho I have ever had in the States, thick and tomatoey and enriched with lots of fruity olive oil. One taste and I was transported to Sevilla. Obviously, given my passions, when I saw there was a special of sardines a la plancha, I couldn't resist. I was not disappointed. As the night progressed we ordered more and more dishes, including succulent cubes of grilled lamb pinchos morunos, mouth-watering anchovy and olive gildas, pacquetitos of serrano ham wrapped around artichokes and cheese. My favorite dish of the night was a plate of paperthin slices of salt cod carpaccio accompanied by a streak of romesco sauce and an anchovy laden frisée salad. Leave room for dessert, especially the almond torta santiago with dulce de leche.

Breakfast in New York

Before I met the woman who is now my wife, I used to take breakfast for granted.  Like the majority of urban-dwelling Americans, I considered breakfast an optional meal, practically a necessary evil.  Fuel to last until lunch.

Whenever I visit New York City, her home town, I understand why breakfast is her favorite meal of the day.  New Yorkers appreciate a good breakfast.  For the few days while I'm stopping over in New York on my way to Spain, we are staying in the Upper West Side at our favorite hideaway, Country Inn the City, just so that we'll be within walking distance of the vital suppliers of the raw materials for our favorite breakfast of smoked fish on a real bagel.  Institutions like H&H Bagels, Zabar's and my new favorite, Murray's Sturgeon Shop, are all within a short stroll.

When we've had our fix of plain smoked fish, we can meander over to the highly regarded brunch destination Sarabeth's and order the Goldie Lox, scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and cream cheese, or further up to Barney Greengrass for scrambled eggs with smoked sturgeon.

Then for a change of scenery, we venture south to Murray Hill to satisfy our cravings for a spicy bowl of South Indian comfort food, idli sambar, and perhaps a crispy paper-thin dosa, all accompanied by creamy coconut chutney.

And, although we won't have time this trip, we usually try to fit in a visit to one of my all-time favorite restaurants anywhere, Gabrielle Hamilton's Prune.  While excellent for dinner, Prune is without peer for weekend brunch.  On our last visit, in April, we enjoyed her riff on a Morrocan breakfast of chickpeas topped with poached and then breaded and fried eggs, accompanied by preserved lemon, pickled turnips and olives.  Her giant Dutch pancake is also a winner.  And, if we haven't had our fill yet, Prune offers an amazing selction of smoked fish from Russ's Daughters, located just a block away!  I love New York!