Paco Meralgo

Max has still not eaten squid ink rice, but got some gum and these little pieces of ice cream that come surrounded with chocolate, so he hasn’t complained.

Leah and I, only the other hand, have eaten like kings. Well, not today when we had potato chips for dinner, but yesterday. Our friend Melissa babysat and we headed off to a tapas place called Paco Meralgo for dinner. It’s not someone’s name, it’s like the S and S Diner – it means “to eat something.” Funny, right?

Well, I will tell you what’s not funny: razor clams. Yes, razor clams. You’ve seen the shells all over the beach on Cape Cod, but have you ever actually seen a clam? I thought not. Me neither. But that is some delicious shellfish, mi amigo. It tastes like [insert pretentious food blog line here referencing some BS about how the taste of the Mediterranean is so distinctive that blah blah blah]. Like a super awesome clam, is what it tastes like, actually.

But now we’re getting ahead of ourselves, aren’t we. First we had tiny fried squid. Super delicious. Also crunchy, which I once read in Food and Wine is America’s top rated flavor, which is awesome, since it isn’t even a flavor, really. Then, sauteed wild mushrooms from some forest in Catalunya. Oooh, localvoricious. Also, we thought we should probably have a salad, so we had one, of tuna belly, tomato, and onion. This was a little disappointing, since I think of tuna belly as a sushi thing, and cooked, well, it’s basically tunafish. Not bad, but not tiny fried squid. And sure as hell not razor clams.

Then we took a break and drank for a while. We also watched a guy from Connecticut yell, “Uno hora de la Nueva York!” at a confused waiter and then tip him 20 Euros, which is about 19 Euros above the typical tip in Spain. Not a terrible way to spend 30 minutes, honestly.

But then, fresh shrimp in garlic, tuna carpaccio and something described as a giant oyster which wasn’t super giant but was highly oysterrific nonetheless. If you don’t eat tuna carpaccio now and then you are a big huge idiot.

We were nearly full, but honestly why stop eating when you are only nearly full. We also had octopus stewed with onions, which was rich enough that we almost regretted eating it after all that, but, I mean, almost. Not actually.

For dessert we had crema catalana, the news of which actually almost made Max cry when he heard that he had missed some. Explaining that people all over Barcelona eat crema catalana every day without Max did not help, though it did prove that I am sort of stupid from time to time.We also had bread, grilled, with a huge pile of melted chocolate and sea salt on it. Chef Tom on Top Chef would say that it didn’t hang together, but, seriously, Chef Tom, I mean, the Chef Tom that I made up in my head, lighten up, because a bunch of melted chocolate with sea salt is not something you should have to pack your knives and go for. Kind of a mess though.

After dinner, we went to take the Metro. It was closer, but with a glass door, which I almost walked into. Good stuff.

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