I’m in the camp of people that believe breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Fortunately for me, I have family here in Barcelona that feels the same as I do. I am a member of a breakfast team that’s always looking for the next best breakfast spot. My team is made up of 2 retirees, 2 recently unemployed folk, and myself. I have mornings free since my work day does not start until late afternoon. We try to get together every couple of months and take a drive to try some of the most incredible breakfast joints in Barcelona and the surrounding area. To clarify, this is breakfast. Not brunch. Brunch is another phenomenon that is completely unrelated to what we’re doing. There’s no waffles or fresh fruit where we’re going. The Barcelona breakfast is braised, grilled over an open fire or roasted. A bloody mary or a mimosa is nowhere to be found where we go. What we do is unapologetic morning dining and drinking, reserved for the aristocracy.
Yesterday, we (only four of us this time) met up at 9:30am (like always) and headed over to Bar Gelida (since 1946) near the Urguell metro stop. The fifth couldn’t join us because she was taking care of some administrative issues with her unemployment. We were seated within 10 minutes of arriving to a packed restaurant. Since we all had our morning coffee at home, we dove right into the wine and beer. Albert is my sherpa at breakfast and orders for me. Within minutes of taking a sip of my first beer, I’m staring down on a piping hot plate of Callos (tripe) simmered in a tomato sauce. This is a dish that evokes a lot of emotion in people. Most people find it disgusting. I find it to be a culinary masterpiece that is known to cure hangovers and depression. After washing it down with my second beer, I sopped up the sauce with some crusty bread. The next plate of food to arrive was the Brau (roasted pork jowel). Usually the tripe is a tough act to follow, but the roast pork fell off the bone and I enjoyed it with my third beer of the morning. After that cholesterol raising pork duet, a carajillo of rum followed by a digestive of whiskey rounded out this glorious morning.
We called for the check and i gladly picked up the tab after a bit of arm wrestling and posturing from the old folks. Albert ordered up some Gandesa from Taragona to take home and use for de-glazing pans and to enrich sauces. We already scheduled our next breakfast together for December 22 when I get back from Greece. We’re heading out of the city to a place that is known for its roast rabbit.