More Food, More Wine, More Sun

A couple of weeks ago, we had dinner at the home of our friends Vibeke and Eirik.  When Vibeke told me the glasses from which we drank our cava came from a flea market in Barcelona, my ears pricked up.  I grew up going to flea markets.  Other families played tennis, or gardened, or went hiking; we went to flea markets.  Very early on Saturday and Sunday mornings.  So I could not believe I had been in Barcelona for more than six months without knowing about Les Encants.  We made a date to go together yesterday morning.  I dropped my workout bag at Vibeke’s apartment and we walked to Diagonal together, and caught the #7 bus almost all the way to Glories, where the flea market is.  I felt the adrenaline rush as we made our way through the tables of new shoes, bolts of fabric, and sundries to the section where people sell old stuff, a lot of it junk.  We rooted around looking for treasure.  I found a couple of old TinTin books in Spanish for the kids, and some terrific, extremely heavy old seltzer bottles that have great graphics; I’ll use them for flowers.  Vibeke bought some silver plate serving pieces and a copper fondue pot.  I had not known about “the sandwich,” and, unfortunately, I had to leave to meet Alec before experiencing it, so I will have to go back another day.

Alec and I had a noon appointment to conduct an interview with some folks at Vila Viniteca, which is probably the best wine shop in Barcelona and also has a gourmet food shop across the street and some tables where you can lunch on the wares.  We were doing research for one of our i-wine review blog pieces.  Vila Viniteca stocks a great deal of food and wine from Catalunya and from the rest of Spain, but also has select products from the rest of the world—arborio rice from Italy, jams from England, and the elusive Bordier butter—in huge rounds from which you order a wedge, like cheese—from France. We talked to Eugenia, our primary contact, about the philosophy of what they carry and she told us, “We just sell the best of the best.” 

The shop started, three generations ago, as a neighborhood store carrying basic provisions.  The proprietor had an interest in wine and so started stocking it in the basement.  Eventually they began selling both, and specializing in cheese as well.  Vila Viniteca now carries over 300 cheeses and is one of a very few shops that carries the famous Joselito jamon.  We talked to the woman who specializes in the food part of the shop, a family member who has worked there for 25 years.  She had us taste two cheeses that are made by small producers exclusively for the shop.  When we asked her how they create these relationships with producers (several wineries also make special blends for Vila Viniteca) she told us, “Well, we have been in this business for a very long time.  We know everyone.”  A couple of bunches of bananas always hang outside the store, ripening, as a link to the shop’s past.

We walked out, full of cheese, jamon, artichokes and olives, laden down with olive oil, more cheese, and wine.  I put Alec in a cab with our loot, plus my flea market purchases, while I went back into the Born.  It felt like summer, so I found a table on the Passeig del Born, ordered a lemonade, and spent a couple of hours reading a student’s dissertation prospectus.  As I made my way toward Via Laeitana, I passed Santa Maria del Mar and heard amazing organ music coming from inside.  The doors were open and so I stepped into the cool interior.  It is a beautiful church, simple in its way, but dignified.   Built during the better part of the 14^th century, Santa Maria del Mar has its roots in the community.  Wealthier residents contributed money to get it built, while those with fewer resources volunteered their labor.  The main doors depict bastaixos, laborers who loaded and unloaded the ships on the nearby beach, carrying stones, one by one from Montjuic to the construction site.  It is hard to imagine how they did this, often in bare feet, for such a long distance. 

I listened to the music for awhile and then went on my way, having enjoyed a real “sacred pause.”  Friends of our friends Jim and Raquel (who arrived this morning) had come the night before from the Netherlands, and we all went out for tapas at Cerveseria Catalana.