Euclid's Basics

by El Staff
Photos by Kelly Doyle-Mace

Like life, sometimes the sheer complexity of feeding yourself is overwhelming. Do I have enough money left in my bank account to go into a restaurant? What the fuck do I use cardamom for? If I have no numbers on my oven dial, will my Spar pizza not turn out right? This is what we dig about the ancient Greeks, though. In the face of the world’s chaos, they didn’t despair; they just started breaking shit down and pumping out theories that we’ve been using as building blocks for thousands of years. Must have been something good in that hemlock. This month we’re tagging places that will ease the brainfuck induced by being out, being broke, being wasted, or some combination of the three. Sometimes the part is indeed worth more than the whole.

Gelateria Bonastre

Av. Mistral, 10

I once waited 45 minutes on a lovely Saturday afternoon for a bikini at the tables outside this place. As my stomach acid ate holes in my gut and my head throbbed with the pain induced by the gin and tonics of the night before, I watched our “waitress” dive into Bonastre’s pastisseria on the other side of the street and hide there for what seemed like years, probably stuffing her face with chocolate, the latest gossip, and little marzipan elves. Thank god I never learn, though, because recently my inner masochist found itself standing in front of their (homemade) ice cream cooler and asking for a bola de café. And I found it was good. Like, forget about your dignity and resolve good. And then, because I am a gluttonous hedonist, I ordered a second bola, this time avellana, and found it was possibly the best I’ve ever had. So go. But you might want to bring a whip.

Piadina Cicciolina

C/ Ample, 12

Generally speaking, buying a piadina is for lazy people who can’t go home and make themselves a glorified quesadilla out of whatever is left in their fridges. It’s a guilty purchase, not unlike the changepurses at the Zara counter, or a mailorder bride. But after eating at Cicciolina, where there are about 30 ingredients to choose from and the final product is approximately the size of your head, a DIY version at this level might seem out of reach. Also, if you happen to be out, hammered, and on the verge of confessing your love to the junkie swaying in the corner, you can’t wait to wend your way home and drunkenly start removing half-rotten vegetables and meats from your salad drawer. And what other food establishment gives you an excuse to start talking to strangers about famous Italian porn actress/parlamentarians? Just think about fellating horses as the juice dribbles down your chin.

La Caravana Al Kafela

C/ Mozart, 15

Things happen on Rius i Taulet. You piss and receive unbelievable fines, you make visual love to strangers, you drink eight too many cerveza-beers. There’s no real solution to the first two of these problems, which result from and happen while you’re engaging in the third, but there is a way to mitigate the effects of the latter, and possibly save yourself some of the vomitous side effects. At la Caravana, just off the plaça on one of the side streets, they stay open late and have about 15 different kinds of baklava and other Persian treats. Mmm...just like the hangover cure grandma used to make: nuts, honey, and a slap upside the head. They’re so good that they might inspire you to also have a dürüm, which is what will ultimately prevent you from doing any further damage to your liver. One hazy night I also happened to see them making a chicken schwarma pole and, while somewhat frightening, it was also quite educational. Ask them about their methods.

Forn de Pa Baluard

C/ Baluard, 38-40

Yes, we’re all wonderful, unique snowflakes, enlightening the world with our mere presence and the offbeat ways we go against the grain. But if you need baked goods in the barrio federation that is our city, and you’d like them to be tasty, it’s wise to go to the source of all the identical bags you see in the hands of neighborhood residents. Baluard has, at minimum, four things going for it (feel free to expand the list as you try things out): 1) Their croissants taste like the real thing, i.e., aren’t made with pig lard. 2) A wide selection of nut and fruit bread so good that Bitacora and Filferro now buy for their restaurants there. 3) Delicious brownies. 4) Raisin snecken (danishes), made with the perfect amount of cinnamon, that melt in your mouth. Unfortunately, making quality baked goods that last more than three hours allows you to take days off. Don’t try to go on Sunday; sadly, you will find that they are closed.

La Perla del Oro

C/ Unió, 34

Like cheap pitchers of sangría, places you can get a bocadillo abound in Barcelona. The trick is to find one that goes más allá than scraping some lomo y queso off a griddle that hasn’t been cleaned in days and slapping it between two halves of a barra de pa. Leave it to the French to bring back the arte of the colmado. At this deli, also offering canned chutneys whose uses are mandated on the labels (don’t dare to use the pear one with anything other than the recommended cheese), you can pedir entrepans made to order or choose from their extensive list of preconceived sandwich delights. And if you’d like some wine or those little Carambars with the terrible jokes on the wrapper, you can get those too. In solidarity for crisis time, they’ve also prepared a new menu geared towards those who have been skipping meals for lack of cash. Eat inside and have a drinking lunch, or take your meal to go and try to avoid digging in before you find a place to sit.