I am sitting in the small dining room of La Pubilla, just outside of a market in Gracia, Barcelona. The walls are lined with books like Larousse Gastronomic, The French Laundry, and La Livre de la Tripe. It’s 10am, and the place is packed with people having breakfast, drinking wine and espresso. Young people with newborn babies, couples of every age, and solo diners like me reading and writing.
The menu is entirely in Catalan, so anything I had figured out from Spanish thus far was pretty useless, but the nicest waitress just translated it all for me:
Omelettes of the day with tomato bread, sausages with vegetables, pigs trotters served 4 ways, fried cod served 4 ways.
I just had the bacalla truita amb pa amb tomaquet. Divine. Zucchini and cod in a Spanish tortilla, with grilled bread rubbed with tomatoes and doused in olive oil. With cafe con leche, just 4 euros. I am kind of freaking out with how amazing that just was.
But now I see the Bacalla amb Romesco I Esparrecs Verds. Fried cod with green asparagus and Romesco. Why didn’t I get that? Well, it’s the last day of vacation. Maybe I’ll just wait here until I get hungry again.