Click here to read the previous post, Adjusting to Life in Spain: 16 Things I Learned From Living in Spain
When I was living in Los Angeles, United States, you couldn’t get me to eat a tuna salad sandwich if it had too much mayonnaise. Ugh! But since living in Spain for the last year, I have surprised (shocked! horrified!) myself with the, shall we say, strange foods that I’ve had the courage to put in my mouth.
Let me be clear. When I say “strange” or “weird” or “exotic,” naturally I’m referring to my own North American point of view. Obviously, for Spaniards, these foods are normal and delicious.
Thanks to my Spanish boyfriend and a couple Spanish friends, I’ve learned to expand my palate to include (sometimes, with copious amounts of alcohol, in darkly lit bars), these six “exotic” Spanish foods.
1. Morcilla (Blood Sausage)
What it is: A traditional Spanish blood sausage that’s made from pork blood (I know!), onions and spices. It’s similar to black pudding in the UK or boudin noir in France. This can differ across regions in Spain; for example, morcilla de Burgos includes rice, and morcilla blanca de Jaén is a white sausage.
Base ingredients: Pig’s blood, fat (usually lard or pork belly), and a filler like rice, onions or breadcrumbs.
How it’s served: It’s often served as part of a tapa, in stews or combined with eggs.
My review: This is one of those “sounds worse than it is” foods. If you like red meat, there’s no reason why you wouldn’t like this. It tastes good on its own—meaty, rich, a bit spicy—but I really love it mixed up with eggs in a dish called Revueltos de Morcilla (Scrambled Eggs with Morcilla). And, no, it doesn’t taste, look or smell of blood.
2. Oreja al Plancha (Grilled Pig's Ear)
What it is: Oreja a la plancha is a popular Spanish tapas dish made from pig’s ear that’s grilled or seared (“plancha”) until it’s crispy on the outside and tender inside.
Base ingredients: Pig’s ear, usually pre-boiled to soften it, then chopped into bite-sized pieces.
How it’s served: Typically as a tapa in bars—sizzling hot, often with toothpicks, and accompanied by a cold beer or vino tinto.
My review: The texture is what people either love or hate. It’s slightly chewy and gelatinous, with crispy edges from being grilled. It’s a true Madrid bar classic, but not for everyone. I tried it once, didn’t care for it, and, like a good sport, tried it again. It’s still not for me.
3. Pulpo (Octopus)
What it is: A traditional Galician dish featuring tender boiled octopus, known as pulpo a la gallega (Galician-style octopus) or pulpo a feira (fair-style octopus, as in “what you find at Galician fairs or festivals”).
Base ingredients: Octopus, olive oil, coarse sea salt, sweet or smoked paprika (often pimentón de la Vera).
How it’s served: Sliced and arranged on a wooden (well, it doesn’t have to be, it just often is) plate, drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with paprika and salt. Often served atop boiled potatoes or with the potatoes on the side.
My review: I was once tricked into eating octopus when I was a kid and I never forgave the nasty adults who thought my reaction, when I learned what was in my mouth, was hilarious. Since then I’ve thought of octopus as soft-boiled tire rubber, which is what it felt and tasted like. However, the pulpo here is cooked well and served with love. Ok, maybe not love, but definitely not rancor (like those mean adults in my childhood). Although I never actually order this dish, when my Spanish companions do, I eat it and usually enjoy it.
4. Bocadillo de Calamares (Fried Calamari Sandwich)
What it is: A simple yet iconic Madrid street food—a sandwich filled with crispy fried squid rings.
Base ingredients: Squid rings, flour, salt, olive oil (for frying), and a baguette or hoagie-style bun.
How it’s served: Hot, freshly fried, inside a crusty or soft baguette (barra de pan). It usually comes with a wedge of lemon (and sometimes mayonnaise or alioli to dip it in). Traditionally, you eat it while standing at a crowded old bar bent over a flimsy paper plate while trying to balance a cold beer on whatever flat surface you can find.
My review: This is another “sounds worse than it is” foods. But if you like onion rings and bread, you will probably like this. The squid rings are as tender as thick onions, the bread adds a soft texture (I prefer this to a crusty baguette), and the lemon squeezed over it definitely brings it all together. I have actually had a hankering for this dish, and my Spanish boyfriend and I have enjoyed it together several times.
5. Callos a la Madrileña (Madrid-Style Tripe Stew)
What it is: A hearty, slow-cooked stew made with beef tripe and sausage—a traditional winter comfort food.
Base ingredients: Beef tripe (and, yes, that’s a fancy way of saying “inner lining of a cow’s stomach”), chorizo, morcilla (see #1 above), ham or pork, tomato, onion, garlic, paprika, bay leaf, and sometimes chickpeas.
How it’s served: Piping hot in a clay dish or bowl, often with thick bread to soak up the rich, spicy sauce.
My review: This one took me a long time to finally try, and when I did, it was in the perfect context. Some Spanish friends and I were sitting at an outdoor terraza, with our winter coats pulled up snugly around our necks, and one of them decided that it was time for Callos. I ate a few spoonfuls of this stew, which was pretty good, and then I asked what it was. I have never tried it again. I’ll admit my dislike is a mind-over-matter (or, rather, a matter-over-mind) situation, but there you have it.
6. Caracoles (Snails)
What it is: Snails cooked in a flavorful, slightly spicy broth—a popular tapa in Madrid and southern Spain, especially Sevilla.
Base ingredients: Snails, sometimes with a bit of ham or chorizo, garlic, onion, paprika, tomato, herbs (like thyme or bay leaf).
How it’s served: In a small bowl or clay dish with the snails still in their shells. You use toothpicks or small forks to pull them out, and bread is usually served to soak up the broth. And a good glass of wine.
My review: Again, this took me a long time to try. No matter how anyone described this dish, I always responded with a look of frozen terror on my face. Finally, out with my boyfriend, he took the plunge and ordered a plate for us to share. It was strange plucking the bit of meat out of the shell with a fancy toothpick, but I have to admit the taste was not unpleasant. Especially with the broth and chunk of bread. And glass (or three) of wine. Like the pulpos (see #3 above), I can’t see myself ordering this voluntarily, but if my boyfriend does, I will eat it and likely enjoy it.
Does This Make Me a Spaniard?
In the course of this travel blog about not only living in Spain, but adjusting to Spanish culture, I’ve often asked myself: Does doing [this thing] make me an honorary Spaniard?
Learning the language is not enough; I’m also learning to be Spanish (government-issued citizenship aside). So I kiss people slash be kissed by people on both cheeks, even when meeting for the first time. I often give in and eat meals at inhumane times. I drink vermut or vino or cerveza with most meals (well, not quite, but it sure seems that way).
And I still haven’t considered myself to be Spanish. Until now.
Now that I have plucked snails from their shells and popped them into my mouth, eaten a dish that has “blood” in the name, and put the stomach of another creature into my own stomach… I think this damn well makes me a Spaniard!
Click here to read the next post, Adjusting to Life in Spain: [TBD]
Note: All photos taken or created (using DALL-E) by Selena Templeton, unless otherwise noted.
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