A Saturday aperitivo at the Plaza, our neighborhood market, is a well-loved ritual for many locals. While Spanish-English dictionaries will lead you to believe that the aperitivo is a pre-lunch affair, experience in Spain has taught me otherwise. Here in Murcia, at least, it is not unusual for an aperitivo to begin at around 1:30 p.m. and end nearly twelve hours later, with one last drink in a friend’s home. Meanwhile, nearly the entire day has been spent imbibing – a few bites here, a few sips there – and talking. This is typically what happens when we begin at the Plaza.
But beyond the timeframe, an aperitivo at the Plaza is not a typical bar experience. For here, you buy your own fish and meat at your purveyors of choice in the market and then take them to Cafetería Pascual, where the owner cooks them up for you. The preparation is simple – either a la plancha, on a griddle sizzling with olive oil, or al vapor, steamed in a big pot seasoned with bay leaves. Both methods bring out the flavors of the literally market-fresh products. You don’t have to specify. You just leave your bags in the queue on the counter, and Pascual takes care of the rest.
Our first stop – Pescadería Manolo:
Our next stop – Cafetería Pascual:
This is not a meal for the timid – there are no signs explaining what to do, and you must be pro-active to get your food in line. Nor is it a meal for the impatient – it can take up to an hour, or more, to get your first cooked item. It’s best not to think about the time, and instead focus on more important matters, like beer and warm-up nibbles, such as locally cured sausages or a plate of ensaladilla rusa, a creamy potato and tuna salad.
A “martini,” which here means vermouth and is a typical aperitif, can be dangerous at this stage, particularly given the volume of the pour.
It can be difficult to pace yourself, especially when you arrive hungry. I have found it is easy to forget how much fish and meat is coming my way. So after I’ve had my fill of steamed mussels, griddled razor clams and prawns, I remember there are more plates to come – the griddled sausage, pork filets and boiled local morcillas, blood sausage stuffed with caramelized onions and pine nuts. Oh yeah, and the quail eggs, which will come perched atop thin slices of baguette.
This whole process takes at least three hours, during which time the empty beer bottles have steadily accumulated and the conversation has steadily gotten louder. A Saturday at the Plaza is a boisterous feast, which is clear in the aftermath…
Once the frenzy has died down, we plot out our next step – going home is usually out of the question. This is an aperitivo, after all.