La Torre del Oro
Er 26 de la Plaza Mayor
Calle del Arco de Triunfo s/n
The Victim: Jen
The Damage: I forget. 30 euros maybe?
The Background: I thought I knew my cousin well. But I’ve learned a lot of new things about her this trip. For example…she doesn’t like ham. Or lamb.
Yes, and I decided to take her to SPAIN. Yo estoy estupido. But then again, when I did order a plate of jamon iberico, I did get to eat it nearly all by myself. (Jen, to her credit, did try a few pieces. But just a few.)
I think I got her into octopus though. Oh yes, and I introduced her to croquettas. We ate croquettas most every day in Madrid.
Anyhow, we are in Madrid and we’re hungry and we walk by La Torre del Oro and it looks festive. With normal people inside. So we enter. And we’re greeted by shouts of Viva America! Yes, we are that obvious. We reply, rationally so, with Viva Espana, and we’re all friends.
Our server (the gentleman there on the left) keeps telling us about Bruce! Bruce! Two years, Bruce! I have no idea what he’s talking about. But then I see this…
Apparently, according to the team behind the bar, Bruce likes his red wine.
All we really had at La Torre del Oro was beer and complimentary paella and then a non-complimentary plate of potatoes and octopus. So I can’t really tell you much about the food, really.
But I can tell you that the guys here had us charmed and amused enough to go back three times for drinks and snacks and to watch the tourists come and go across Plaza Mayor.
I’d say this is a touristy bit with life and spirit. And that’s all you really want out of life, isn’t it?
The Verdict: I liked La Torre del Oro in Madrid. We had fun, each and every time.