I usually enjoy trying local food when travelling. I respect local tastes and rarely dislike anything. But there was this one time—in recent memory—I made a month-ahead reservation at Casa Botin in Madrid, one of the oldest restaurants in the world, founded in 1725. Back in the day, it was one of Ernest Hemingway’s favourite spots to eat. I went to try their classic cochinillo asado (roast suckling pig) with potatoes, cooked in a 300-year-old wood-fired oven.
Honestly, it didn’t work for me. It was bland and underwhelming. The artichoke hearts with ham were okay-ish, but the dish I ended up loving was something else entirely—which wasn’t why I went there. The gambas al ajillo—prawns cooked in sizzling garlic and oil, mopped up with some bread on the side. It was beautiful.
In hindsight, I don’t regret going. I’m not disappointed that my expectations weren’t met. Not every meal will be amazing, but every one tells a story. And that’s part of the joy of travel when you show up with curiosity.
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3 weeks ago