La Nena

La Nena is the perfect Barcelona granja.  Granja, as I believe I’ve written before, means “farm” in Spanish, and granjas tend to serve things like churros and chocolate, milk drinks, and other baked goods.  There are a couple of terrific old ones on Carrer Petrixol in the Barri Gotic, but I still prefer La Nena. 

La Nena, located a block off of Travesera de Gracia and just off one of the many small plazas in the Gracia neighborhood, inhabits a small, welcoming storefront with one always full table outside.  It is truly a neighborhood place and is as yet undiscovered by tourists.  The word “authentic” comes to mind, although I myself have problems with that word, as it tends to imply fixing a place in time rather than appreciating inevitable dynamism.

Inside the café there is a front room and a back room, the latter housing shelves bursting with books and puzzles that signal a welcome environment for kids.  My collaborator Sarah and I have chosen La Nena as the place where we meet to discuss our research on Slow Cities every week or so.  We sit there discussing the work for hours sometimes, while the crowd ebbs and flows.  It’s perfectly fine with the folks at La Nena if you linger.  In fact, they encourage it.  A hand-lettered sign posted behind the cash register reads: “Aqui se puede leer” (“Here, you can read”).  And indeed, readers typically occupy several tables.

The counter overflows with home-baked pies, cakes and breads, and the menu features an entire section of milk items:  a glass of “our cream,” homemade kefir and yogurt, and milkshakes.

Today I got there before Sarah, and just after a yoga class; I ordered a fresh juice of orange, carrot, and celery in order to keep the healthy theme going.  It hit the spot.  After we had been there awhile we had open face sandwiches of mushrooms, tomatoes and asparagus covered with a light layer of cheese and toasted.

As luck would have it, I needed to meet Alec in Gracia for an interview (more on that later in the week) later that afternoon, so after I picked the kids up from school, I brought them back to La Nena—they had never been—for chocolate and churros.  Milo found a puzzle of the world which got him excited because he has just finished a unit on the continents in his class.  If you run into him, ask him to sing the continent song for you… (“North America, South America, Asia, You-rope….”).  C.C. rummaged through the books. They loved it, too.

* * *

By the way, we broke open the tonka truffles from Pierre Marcolini in Brussels, when Ann was here.  Alec did not like them, but Ann and I did.  I’ve seen the flavor described as being like vanilla, or cinnamon, but I don’t find any of the descriptors to be adequate.  It is distinctive, unique, not subtle.  And so far, no one has suffered any side effects.