Monday, 6 June
Today we began a little later than the previous day, in that we weren’t eating monastic butter cookies on the bus from the word go. Instead, we went directly to the cathedral to do our inside tour.
Both of us agree that the west front’s exterior ‘portals’ were in fact the highlight. Portal is a technical term which conveys the cosmic implications of these doorways. The portals in this case are surrounded by sculpted imagery of the Last Judgement and heaven. Demonic heads are shown meting out exquisite tortures for the damned, while the angels on Christ’s dexter side cheerily play chamber organs and harps.
The interior was pretty good, too. We listened to a highly amusing English translation of the free audio guide, which included such choice phrases as “this majestic nave of ascendant dynamism radiating awesome sacredness”. The altar, in fairness, is pretty radiant.
After a good hour or two in the cathedral, we succumbed to breakfast in the form of a gingerly shared tortilla and leche con café. The tortilla was complemented this time by a micro-roll of bread, about the same volume as an ice cube. The tortilla was once again soft, but not in a way that threatened salmonella. Muy rico.
After the fiscal catastrophe of last night’s food (see the previous instalment of the blog), we were looking to save some Euros. Our solution came in the form of DIY bocadillos. These contained predictable but well-suited ingredients: jamón, green-ish reddish tomatoes, queso mezcla semi curado (mezcla means it’s made from a mix of cow, sheep and goat milk) and our trusty walnut membrillo. The semi-curado was essentially a classy Iberian version of dubious ‘sandwich cheese’ – quite buttery and delicious, but not particularly complex or robust. Its presence in the sandwich was ideal.
After lunch, we saw more medieval sculpture. This time, we headed to the interior of the Basilica of St Isidore. Isidore is a bishop-saint known in the medieval world chiefly for his Etymologiae, an encyclopaedia of its day and full of totally inaccurate etymologies of words. Isidore had a habit of taking words that have no Latin or Greek origins and triumphantly splitting them apart into nonexistent Latin and Greek components – a bit like trying to cut Meccano pieces out of Lego.
Anyway, Isidore is an important saint and his remains are buried in this basilica. Fittingly, the church is decorated with a remarkable series of sculptures. Most of these are in the form of foliage capitals or contorted hybrid creatures and bible passages rendered in complex but compact images. The smaller space of the building is somewhat more coherent than the haughty French Gothic cathedral, and it makes for a more contemplative environment. A nun joined us to sit in the nave. I assumed she came from a different foundation and had appeared here either for reverence to Isidore or the peace of the building.
After this ocular and spiritual treat we, er, rewarded ourselves with some wine. There were two, both local, a rosado and a red. The rosé had a pleasing, very slight sherbety nip, as though it was sparkling, with notes of elderflower and orange. The red wine, of the local mercia variety, had a cassis note initially. This transformed into black pepper (Bea’s observation which Alfie subsequently couldn’t un-smell). The obligatory tapa in this instance was a pair of open sandwiches with various pieces of sliced quadruped, porcine and bovine. Well, there are only so many ways of saying ‘we ate jamón.’
The afternoon was spent walking around without much direction. We did do a tour of the medieval city walls, which led us to a historical interpretation centre designed to educate tourists about León’s Roman past. Apparently the place was once governed by Legio VII Gemina (the seventh military legion, called ‘the twins’ after Romulus and Remus). We entered – exclusively because we needed the loo. Sanitation is all the Roman museum did for us (as well as medicine, education, wine, public order, irrigation, roads, and public health).
We continued on to a supermarket to buy supplies. These would augment our dinner, which was the same as our lunch. We purchased tostado beers to try, in very small quantities for about 50 cents each. These beers are effectively lagers, but their USP is that the malt has been toasted. This process gives them a little more body, some banana notes, and a general boosts to their malty flavour. It’s really an improvement on a lot of lager, a reasonable proposition but often a bit thin and boring.
That essentially was the sum total of today’s culinary interest – it was a medieval sculpture day for the most part. Indeed, after our experience the previous day of hopping from tapa to tapa with sometimes imperfect results, this artistic break was welcome.
Special extra bonus: ‘Bad pairings,’ a new parlour game for the bored gourmand.
Whilst we were eating our evening bocadillos, Bea and I devised a pretty good parlour game. The players take turns proposing either a food or a drink. The next player must then carefully choose a drink or a food to ‘match’ – that is, a match made in hell. They must come up with the most repulsive (and therefore funniest) food/drink pairing. You are not allowed to choose foods which are inherently disgusting, so no pencil shavings on toast. The more toe-curling and un-complementary the pairing, the better. If you can illicit a reaction from the other player, double points.
For inspiration, here are some example pairings we ‘enjoyed’:
Vanilla ice cream and tomato juice
Mac-and-cheese and Pedro Ximénez
Olives and hot chocolate
Gin & tonic and fried eggs
Blue cheese and Fanta
Strong and milky English Breakfast tea and gambas al ajillo
Pineapple juice and black pudding
Anchovies and oat milk
– Alfie