I’m going to turn into a tapas. Or rather a tapa. Yes, you know why. I don’t need to explain. Plus it’s all starting to get rather complicated. They might be reading this. So I’m going to be the soul of discretion. Honest.
I’d booked twp places (indecision) and didn’t end up at either of them. Not the kind of behaviour I advocate, but you never quite know how these things are going to turn out. So we went to Català, in the heart of tourist-ville close to the Spui. The clue is in the title: unpronounceable Catalan dishes with an authentic, rustic feel.
Topping the menu were a bargainous half-dozen oysters for under €10. So bargainous, in fact, that I was sceptical. I needn’t have been. They were fresh, which is all that you can ask from oysters. The Serrano ham was not as good as Iberican jamon, but then again you wouldn’t expect it to be for a fraction of the price of its posh piggy counterpart. The albondigas were full of flavour (and possibly breadcrumbs); the tortilla was overly salty while the spinach was under-seasoned (and the pine nuts weren’t toasted – who doesn’t toast pine nuts?!).