Txirimiri: The Best Tortilla I've Ever Had

My favorite Spanish dish is and always will be tortilla española.

No, no - I'm not talking about those heavenly rounds of finely ground corn that we use for tacos, enchiladas and other delicious Mexican treats back home in the States. (Spain has yet to recognize the glory of what we call "tortillas" and make them mainstream. Good luck trying to find them in any grocery store.)

I'm talking about the delectable, comforting, and simple yet ever so satisfying Spanish omelette comprised of eggs, potatoes and onions.

I suppose you could call me an amateur connoisseur of tortilla española (also known as tortilla de patatas). I remember taking my first bite of tortilla española on my first night in Cádiz like it was just yesterday; one taste and I was immediately addicted. My host mom may have been a psychopath, but she sure knew how to make a mean tortilla.

Tortillas are naturally gluten free, so imagine my contentment in Cádiz when I would eat something and not get sick afterwards. What a crazy thought! It's no wonder tortilla española quickly became my favorite Spanish dish... it was the only one that didn't make me violently ill. (And also, it's delicious. Enough said.)

For the past three years, my love for tortillas has persisted. Throughout Spain, Argentina and Seattle, I've tried a lot of amazing ones... and unfortunately, I've also tried a lot of horrible ones. (I'm looking at you, ridiculously overpriced tortilla in Plaza Mayor that tasted like plaster. Shame on me for even being tempted by such a tourist trap.) Once in a while, my mom and I will even experiment in the kitchen and attempt to make our own.

But nothing, I repeat, NOTHING, will ever compare to the tortilla española found at Txirimiri.

Located in the barrio of La Latina in Madrid, not a single tourist is to be found in this Basque tapas bar. That's how you know it's really good. Small slices of tortilla española are served as pintxos on top of bread - and although this restaurant is constantly bustling, they still found the time to serve me many tortillas sin pan (without bread).

The tortillas at Txirimiri are melt in your mouth crazy delicious. This is not your average tortilla de patatas, my friends. I'm convinced that the chefs add some sort of magic in these, because the flavors and consistency of their tortillas are out of this world. I can't even.

Before:

After:

Yeah, okay, so technically this was after my third slice. What can I say, it's literally impossible to stop at one.

Suffice it to say, this place is heaven. If you live in Madrid or are just planning to visit, a trip to Txirimiri should be at the top of your list. I promise you will not regret it.

Txirimiri

Calle del Humilladero, 6

Metro: La Latina, Puerta del Toledo or Tirso de Molina

La Vida Madrileña

Now that I've found an apartment and started my job as an English teacher (more to come on that later!), it's finally starting to all sink in. I live in Madrid. 

Umm... what?

You guys. I live here. This ridiculously gorgeous city is my home now. I'm still having difficulty wrapping my mind around that fact, because at times it seems too good to be true. 

If you know me at all or have followed this blog in the past, you probably know that three years ago I studied abroad in Cádiz for five months... and hated it. Okay, "hate" is an exaggeration, because in actuality Cádiz is a stunning city with gorgeous beaches, vivacious locals, picturesque Spanish architecture and hands down the prettiest sunsets I've ever seen in my life. I'm actually dying to go back for a visit. But that's the thing - for me, Cádiz was the ideal town to visit, not live in.

Cádiz was way too small for me; at times, I felt claustrophobic and suffocated. I couldn't understand a single word of el accento andaluz, also known as the world's most confusing Spanish accent. I rushed into studying abroad when I wasn't ready, and as the youngest person in my program, I cried every single day because I was so homesick. (Yes, I just confessed that to the entire world. No shame, folks.) My first host mom was an Franco-worshipping psychopath, and my second host family wasn't much better either. At this point in my life I had no idea that I had Celiac disease, so I was getting violently ill after every meal and had no energy to partake in the vibrant Spanish culture.

I had many romanticized and idealized notions about life in Spain. When reality fell short of my expectations, I felt disappointed and depressed. It was easier for me to project my dissatisfaction onto Cádiz as a whole than deal with it myself.

Coming to Madrid, I was prepared for the worst. I anticipated my first few weeks in Madrid to be filled with unshakable homesickness, frustration with a lack of gluten free food, an inability to understand the Spanish spoken here, loneliness and culture shock.

Thank God I was wrong. In fact, I could not have been more mistaken. 

First of all, the Spanish spoken here is beautiful. As in, I can actually understand people. And when I respond in Spanish, they understand me. What a concept! The best part is when I tell them that I studied abroad in Cádiz and they respond, "How did you understand them there?! Even we can't understand them!" Yes. Instant validation. 

As for the food, Madrid is surprisingly gluten free friendly. Everybody here knows what Celiac disease is, and it's awesome. Initially, I was shocked. Gluten free beer at normal bars? Gluten free burger buns at McDonalds? Custom made gluten free tapas? Yeah, okay. I can deal with this.

Madrid has a vibe that I naturally connect with. It's not too big, but it's not too small. There is always something to see, do or experience - but there are also plenty of opportunities to relax and just be. There are endless bars and restaurants to try, world class museums to visit, beautiful parks to stroll through, eccentric neighborhoods to explore, and friendly people to connect with - Spaniards and expats alike. Dare I say, it's everything I could want in a city. (Minus a beach. But let's not get too picky, shall we?)

Considering this is my third time living in a foreign country, I'm well aware that there is always a "honeymoon phase" of moving abroad, filled with euphoria and blind infatuation with one's new city. (I remember when I first arrived in Cádiz I boasted, "I'm never leaving! I want to stay here for the rest of my life! I'm like, totally a Spaniard!" Little did I know I'd be counting down the days until I could come home in triple digit numbers. "102 days to go, you guys!") This time around, I'm trying not to fall victim to that naive idealism, I'm just trying to take it in realistically and mindfully. As much as I love Madrid, I am fully capable of acknowledging its flaws and my own personal frustrations with certain aspects of the Spanish culture. (For instance, excessive PDA in metro stations. Why do some people find that necessary?? It smells bad, everyone is staring at you, and it's arguably the least romantic place in the world. Take it outside, amigos.)

This year will inevitably have its ups and downs, but it's becoming increasingly clear that Madrid is a good fit for me. I am really happy here. I'm talking about that natural, genuine happiness that you don't even have to think about or force upon yourself. It's just there. 

Brussels

I'm going to be honest with you all: last time I was in Paris, I really wanted to take a day trip to Brussels, but I was too insecure and afraid to travel alone. This time around, after facing my fears and having conquered London and Paris as a solo traveler, there was no excuse for me not to visit Belgium.

Grand Place | Groote-Markt

To be quite frank, I really don't remember much about the history of Brussels or the importance of any of the monuments I saw. During my walking tour, I was mostly distracted by the pouring rain and how hungry I was. Every street I strolled down emanated the mouthwatering scents of fresh Belgian waffles, savory fries and sweet melted chocolate. I can say with absolute certainty that Brussels is the most delicious smelling city I've ever visited. I imagine it to be exactly how Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory smells. That within itself is worth a visit to Brussels.

Manneken Pis, voted the world's most "disappointing" tourist attraction

Needless to say, the highlights of my day trip to Brussels were finding gluten free Belgian chocolate cake, stuffing myself with fries (do not call them "French" fries there... the people of Belgium take full credit for inventing these greasy, addictive treats), and making many trips to charming chocolate shops with arguably the best cocoa I've ever tasted in my entire life. When I wasn't stuffing myself with ridiculously unhealthy snacks, I got lost in the stunning architecture of Grand Place/Groote-Markt, explored the quaint shops within the city center, and admired the unique street art that adorns otherwise barren buildings.

Voluntarily sacrificing one day in Paris is a very big deal to me, but I can say without a doubt that taking a day trip to Brussels was well worth it. 

Typical Belgian treats