Tag: Spain

The Rookie’s Guide to Tapas

Published on by E L B2 Comments

Tonight, for the first time since I arrived in Spain, I felt like I was in Europe. And it was all thanks to tapas.

Earlier this week, our first week in Spain, some friends and I were keen to try some tapas, that all-important Spanish ritual of eating and drinking that seems so simple yet, somehow, the Spaniards have perfected to a near art. Oh, you can imagine the anticipation as we crowded into the center of a tapas bar that was just opening for the evening. That was short-lived. It only took us a hot second to realize that we had no idea what we were doing, and then scuttle back onto the street. How does one do tapas? We looked at each other quizzically, and decided to work the question over with some helado (ice-cream), which, incidentally, is never a bad idea in Santander, but that’s another matter.

For those of you who are new to the Spanish culinary scene, let me bring you up to speed.

WHAT?

Tapas are small plates of food, typically consisting of jamón (cured ham), queso (cheese), huevo (egg), patate (potato), or maybe some variation of pescado (fish) commonly piled on a slice of pan (bread).

That is the traditional variety, but some more “cutting-edge” establishments are serving up favorites from Latin America, including pint-sized burritos à la Mexico and Argentinean empanadas.

Something similar, often confused with, but slightly different from tapas is pinchos, or pintxos (in Basque). Pintxos are a bit smaller, or more delicate, and much more work intensive, with a lot of care going into details and presentation. The best are said to be found in San Sebastian.

WHEN?

Tapas are usually eaten either just before lunch (1 pm – 3 pm) or just before dinner (6 pm – 9 pm). The idea is for the light meal to hold you over until the appropriate dining hour arrives. This is especially nice for foreigners who are not used to the Spaniard’s late mealtime hours. The food is also meant to accompany your pre-dinner drink. A Spaniard would never drink on an empty stomach – they know how to hold their alcohol.

WHERE?

While tapas can be found at most restaurants, bars, and cafes in Spain, some establishments specialize in tapas.

Tapas can be found all over Spain, although they prefer the above-mentioned pintxos in Basque country. I hear that in Granada it is written into law that every round of drinks ordered must be accompanied by a free plate of tapas. I, for one, am intrigued.

WHO?

Friends and family go out for tapas in groups of three or four. This is because tapas are typically eaten standing at a counter or gathered around a small cocktail table – there’s simply no room for more!

HOW?

Now let’s get back to the million-dollar question: How does one do tapas?

My friends and I chose to solve this riddle by asking our professors to recommend a nice tapas place for first-timers like us. Maybe they would come along and show us the ropes? Our simple request for a nice place to eat culminated into a verbal ping-pong match between our two professors (it was quite exciting) with the end result being that tapas should be included in our curriculum. ¡Vale! That was an unexpected, but very welcome outcome. (All the same, my friends and I considered ourselves muy suerte (smooth) for getting the ball rolling on that one.)

So, the next evening, after touring the Catedral de Santander to appreciate the various examples of roman, romantic, and gothic architecture found there, our class of twenty stood in the drizzle on a street corner while our professors spoke just above the sound of city traffic to communicate to us the ritual of Spanish tapas. As you can imagine, we were all a bit mystified. Soon we found ourselves trailing the streets among the Spaniards in search of our first tapas experience. This is what we found:

Tapas is something akin to a moving cocktail hour (or two). You travel with your group from restaurant to bar to etc.

The norm is to visit three places in an evening. At each locale, every member of your group samples one or two tapas and a drink (the Spanish drink of choice is wine). While everyone orders one tapas a piece, it is understood that each tapas will be shared amongst the group.

Tapas are customarily ordered at the bar. There will be a crowd of people instead of a line, so be prepared to jump in when you are ready to order. There may or may not be a menu. If there is no menu, then you may choose from the tapas that are on display on the counter. Either way, try to know what you want to order before the server gets to you. Neither the server nor those waiting behind you will appreciate you taking the time to peruse what’s on offer. Oh, and one person orders for everyone in the group. Don’t be nervous if you aren’t sure what to order. I’ve asked several Spaniards what their favorite tapas is and every single one of them has reported, “They’re all good!”.

To pay for the bill, everyone throws about 5 Euro into the proverbial pot. This will cover everyone’s drink and tapas. Nobody is allowed to count out who-owes-what. If you do not partake in a round of tapas, you do not need to contribute to the bill at that establishment, that’s fine.

But please, above all else, take your time and relax. It is tempting and all too easy to finish off a quick tapas in a few minutes – but don’t. A good way to slow down is to watch how much is left in your glass compared to what is left on your plate: is your glass half full but your tapas nearly non-existent? Then now would be a good time to take a breath and enjoy. Watch the scene around you, or indulge in some conversation – you know what to do.

Tapas is simple, and Spaniards understand this. And that, dear reader, is the beauty behind the art of tapas.

Emily Bowman, DUSA Student Blogger

Tapas sitios in Santander (recommended by my professors, two locals) 

Casa Lita – Paseo de Pereda, in front of the monument to los raqueros

 Bodegas Mazón – Calle Hernán Cortés, close to the intersection with Casimiro Sainz

Cañas, Vinos y Tapas – Calle Hernán Cortés, close to the intersection with Lope de Vega

Días de Sur – Calle Hernán Cortés, close to the intersection with Lope de Vega

Cervecería Cruzcampo – At the corner of Calle Hernán Cortés and Lope de Vega

Bodega Cigaleña – At the corner of Eduardo Benot and Emilia Pardo Bazán

Los hijos de Florencia – At the corner of General Mola and Eduardo Benot

La despensa – At the corner of Daoiz y Velarde and Pancho Cossio

Casa Ajero – At the corner of Daoiz y Velarde and Pancho Cossio

La Bodega Conveniente – In the Plaza Cañadío

Marcelino – Calle Pizarro, close to the intersection with Santa Lucía

Mesón Ramapalay – At the intersection of Gómez Oreña with Daoiz y Velarde; next to the Plaza de Pombo and the church of Santa Lucía

Café de Pombo – In the Plaza del Pombo

Luzmila – At the corner of Hernán Cortés and Marcelino Sautuola; in between the Plaza Porticada and the Plaza Cañadío

La Casa del Indiano – Inside of the Mercado del Este

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The Trill of it All

Published on by E L B2 Comments

Teva-deva, teva-deva, teva-deva, teva-deva”

I am sitting in my room repeating these nonsense words in quick succession.

“I edited it. I edited it. I edited it. I edited it.”

Along with that sentence.

“TdZzzzzzzz…”

Sadly, that is the only sound I can produce.

I am trying to learn how to trill my r’s.

The trilled “r” sound is pertinent to properly spoken Spanish. That doesn’t mean it comes naturally to every Spanish speaker on the planet. It is, in fact, the last sound that Spanish-speaking children can successfully produce. Apparently, some adults never master the trilled “r”. They are labeled as having an official articulation disorder. I am afraid that I may be of that number.

As I’ve mentioned before, growing up in Texas means that you are exposed to many nuances of Spanish language and culture when you are young. In grade school, kids would run around the playground rolling their r’s extravagantly in exotic words such as “maracas” or “rojo”. Try as I might, I could never join in. “It’s easy!” they’d say. It was impossible.

While my classmates were happily trilling away like helicopters or purring cats, I was tackling a speech impediment. Each week, I would visit the school’s speech therapist, who helped me learn how to pronounce “th”, “ch”, “sh”, and “j”. It took me years of practice, and I still have trouble pronouncing these sounds, especially when I am tired. If I am not careful, I can easily slip into a lisp (not that this would be a problem in Spain). I wonder if my inability to pronounce these sounds when I was younger, and my inability to roll my r’s now, are one in the same problem.

A few days ago, my host father, Juan, told me I needed to practice trilling my r’s. He taught me this tongue-twister, which Spanish children use to practice their r sounds:

El perro de san Roque no tiene rabo,

porque Ramón Ramirez se lo ha robado.

In English, it means:

The dog of san Roque has no tail,

because Ramón Ramirez stole it.

The excess of r sounds in this sentence is meant to help one learn how to place the trilled r in everyday speech.

Yesterday in class, my professors taught us this same sentence. They also stressed the importance of learning how to properly place the trilled r. Apparently, there are only two times when one trills the r. Either when:

1)   It is the first letter, like in Roque or rabo

2)   There is a double r in the middle of a word, like in guitarra or churro

It is a good idea to repeat tricky sentences like El perro de san Roque until you are use to using the trilled r whenever you speak. That is, if you can trill your r’s in the first place.

Welcome to rudimentary Spanish pronunciation 101, where we learn to roll our r’s.

As I’ve said, I can’t roll an r to save my life. Yesterday, when my classmates, once again, were trilling away with ease, I tried to imitate them. It didn’t go very well. While we were walking down the street after class, my friends looked on with worried glances as I continued to try to make the appropriate sound

“I don’t know how to describe how to do it,” they said. In their attempts to help, they looked at me with intent faces and pointed at their mouths while they trilled. I tried to do the same, but ended up just blowing raspberries or hissing. I think a few Spaniards on the street were a bit worried at that point, too.

This morning, over café con leche, I told my host mother, Maria, that I was having trouble pronouncing my r’s correctly. She too said that she wasn’t sure how to describe how to do it, and also pointed at her mouth while she demonstrated how to trill: “perro”. In turn, I demonstrated my inaptitude at the process.

She told me that it was alright, a lot of Spanish-speaking children take years to perfect the “r”. I asked her if there are any adults that can’t trill their r’s.

“Some,” she said, “I know some people who can’t. But there aren’t many, because children learn when they are young”.

“Is it a problem?” I asked her.

“A little bit, because there is a difference between pero and perro, you see, but usually they can be understood”.

I told her I would be practicing my pronunciation, so if she heard me making strange noises around the house, that would be the reason why.

So, I went to my trusty advisor, the internet, and googled “how to roll your r’s”.

The first thing the websites tell you to do is to relax your tongue. Hence, the nonsense words I mentioned earlier. Basically, repeat anything that makes you tap the tip of your tongue against the space between your two front teeth and the roof of your mouth. This should loosen up the muscles in your tongue necessary for trilling and position your tongue in the right spot at the same time.

Once your tongue is nice and loose, float the tip of your tongue in the space between your two front teeth and the roof of your mouth. Apparently, this is called the alveolar ridge, for those who want to know. Next, attempt to pronounce a “dr” or “tr” sound with your tongue in this position. The added “d” or “t” should help, because English speakers naturally pronounce d’s and t’s with their tongues in the appropriate position for trilled r’s. Thus, the “d” and “t” sounds make it easier to roll onto the r sound.

I’ve been practicing all morning, and I’ve gotten it so I can roll onto the “r” from the “d” or “t”, but only for a moment before I lose it and have to repeat my tongue twisters again.

Maria comes to my door and checks on my progress. I try to demonstrate my limited newfound ability, but I don’t think she can tell the difference. We agree that I need more practice.

There is a rumor that some people simply can’t roll their r’s because of a genetic defect. I’ve read that if you can’t fold your tongue vertically, this is a sign that you will never be able to trill. Apparently Spanish-speakers also recognize a defect called Ankyloglossia, or “Tounge-tie”, which means that frenulum (the tissue that connects your tongue to base of your mouth) is too short. If you have “tongue-tie”, you cannot roll your r’s. People with “tongue-tie” have this defect surgically corrected as children. I don’t know if I have any of these problems (and I am not going under the knife in order to roll my r’s anytime soon), but maybe I am one of those who simply can’t trill.

Then again, I’ve also heard that the “genetic defect” rumor is complete nonsense as well. Here’s hoping.

Sites to help you learn how to pronounce the trilled r sound:

Tongue twister: http://www.tebytib.com/gest_web/proto_Seccion.pl?rfID=7&arefid=1647

Consonants: http://www.rocketlanguages.com/spanish/resources/pronunciation_spanish_consonants.php

A step-by-step guide: http://www.spanish-only.com/2008/03/how-to-roll-your-r/

More methods: http://www.wikihow.com/Roll-Your-%22R%22s

A linguist’s advice: http://linguistlist.org/issues/12/12-57.html

How to roll your R’s: http://wander-argentina.org/2011/06/how-to-roll-your-rs/

What if you can’t trill?: http://wander-argentina.org/2011/07/what-if-you-cant-trill-your-r/

— Emily Bowman, DUSA Student Blogger