Quick Bites: La Plata
The view of La Plata from the street, bustling with the lunch rush
Arguably one of my favourites from the Barca trip, this is exactly what you think of when you want to feel like you’re in Europe. You know what I mean: everything moves ten times slower and nothing gets done except drinking good, cheap wine; eating everything doused in a bucket of the finest extra extra virgin olive oil (and somehow never getting fat); soaking up that sun like the lazy iguana you are; and having as many naps as you like— if anyone moans, it’s a traditional siesta.
The sun was streaming in as I sat in the tiny restaurant of about five tables, the majority of them just big enough for two. The door stayed permanently open next to me, the light breeze floating in, and behind a bar-top, the owner was busy working. Behind him, the wall was stacked high with La Plata-branded Sweet Vermouth to the ceiling.
La Plata-branded sweet vermouth stacked high. (Also, the owner’s bald head. Sorry about that, sir.)
The service was succinct and no-nonsense, just to really make it feel all the more authentic. No host pretending to find you funny or an overly anxious waiter asking if everything is okay before you’ve even put the fork in your mouth to be found here.
Your experience is as follows: you come in, wait at the bar for one of the few tables to free up (the lone waiter simply points silently at the table when it’s yours). Once seated, you order your drink (Vermouth Preparado) and choose from the charmingly small menu in Catalan on the wall, with joyfully reasonable prices (I couldn’t get my Google Translate to work, so I just ordered one of everything.)
“Once seated, you order your drink (Vermouth Preparado) and choose from the charmingly small menu in Catalan on the wall, with joyfully reasonable prices…”
The food arrives within a few minutes with no attempt at elaborate presentation. It doesn’t need to. It simply is what it is: lightly battered anchovies, pan con tomate, largely chopped sweet onion and tomato salad, and a sausage on bread. The flavours sang for themselves — light, vibrant, and seriously addictive. My companion and I were impelled to order another portion of the little fish.
I’ll keep my final comment as simple and frank as the meal I had here: If you’re in Barcelona, make time for La Plata.
