Tag: Spanish customs

Mercado Mania

Location, location, location!

The view from our window says it all—a mercado, a public market!  It’s the Mercado de Ruzafa (Spanish) or Mercat de Russafa (Valencian). 

It’s in an ugly, ugly concrete building—no getting around that fact.  Even a little decorative paint can’t hide that. Not pretty like the spectacular art deco Mercado Central or the even fancier Mercado de Colon. But inside, wow!  Foodie heaven. A home cook’s paradise.  An ocean of food stalls!  

In our scientific count, we found 29 stalls selling either meat, poultry, or charcuterie.  Some even specialize—there are several pork only, a couple that specialize in just chicken, one guy sells only ground meats, a dozen selling jamon and charcuterie. 

Want a thick or thin chop — they cut your meat to order.  Our chicken folks are amazing—like samurai warriors. They cut and debone a whole chicken in seconds. You tell them exactly what you want. Knives flash and presto—a package of perfectly cut, trimmed and sliced whole chicken.  Bones saved for broth. Service and a show. 

There are 19 fish stalls housed in a separate wing of the market where the temperature is kept lower to help keep things fresh.  Most of the seafood is laid out artistically on beds of crushed ice. Fish sculpture extraordinaire.  

Of course, there are dozens of fruit and veggie stalls.  Most sell only seasonal produce. I asked one lady if she had oranges—it is, after all, Valencia.  She said not today but come back in 10 days—the fall crop will be in then. One stall offers the very best romaine lettuce. There is always a crowd as each customer buys a head plus whatever else looks good. You have to ask politely “Quien es ultimo?”  “Who is last?” in order to know where to stand. 

A few specialize in tropical or South American produce for the immigrants—clearly not seasonal and imported. But those stalls are the exceptions.

And there’s the rest, the other stalls—nuts and dried fruits, the egg lady, bakeries, prepared food take out, spices, olives, pastries, the mushroom guy, specialty stalls with Italian, Greek, South American, Mexican foods, dry goods, candy, wines and spirits, sushi, vermouths only, coffees only, even a tea only place.  We’ve found our favorite cheesemonger in one of the smaller stalls carries mostly Spanish varieties, and our young egg lady who has both regular eggs and eggs from pasture raised hens.  

There is, of course, a restaurant and bar where the locals and Mercado workers hang out. A little dark and dingy. But lively.  They all seem to start the day with a beer, vermouth, or a shot of something stronger. 

The public market in the marina district — no surprise — is known for seafood. The area used to be a small fishing village before Valencia absorbed it. But Thursday when we wandered out there it was also flea/street market day. Since Monday is our neighborhood’s street market, we thought we knew what to expect. Nope. This one was enormous—maybe five times size of ours in Ruzafa. It ran down the main street about 10 blocks to the public market and filled many side streets. Enough underwear, table clothes, shirts, kitchenware and used shoes for the entire planet.

Then we got to actual market — Mercado del Cabañal. Newer than many markets, and still filled with jamon, fresh meats and tons of vegetables as you would expect. But the seafood! Wow! Fish, and a particular shellfish is not cheap here, but the quality and variety is amazing. The legacy of the old fishing village.

What you don’t really have at the Mercado de Ruzafa or Mercado del Cabañal are tourists. Expats, yes, immigrants, yes, tourists, very few. A real contrast to the Mercado Central and the Mercado de Colon.

The grand Mercado Central in the old city isn’t entirely tourists—our Valencian  friends shop there.  But because of its beauty and its location close to so many historical sites, it is included in all the guide books and on all city tours.   Bottom line?  The locals definitely fight their way through the selfie shots and tour groups with barely enough room for their small shopping carts.

The Colon Market is a whole different vibe. Gorgeous building.  Built in 1916 as a market, it’s been extensively renovated, and beautifully maintained. Upscale restaurants and bars spread over two floors. It’s filled with little booths selling locally made fashion, artsy jewelry and pricey souvenirs. And only a few real food stalls—probably just so it could still call itself a mercado. 

Tourists, yes. Mobs. Many Spanish, but sitting down to a coffee, you’re just as likely to hear Dutch, German, British English, or American English.  

And dotted all around the city, there are many more neighborhood mercados, each with its own flavor. 

It’s our mission before we leave to visit as many as we can.  Mercado mania. 

But for now, and probably always, the Mercado de Ruzafa is our happy place.  

Small sights

A friend told us he and his partner, experienced travelers, no longer were interested in the “A” sights — sort of been there, done that. We agree. Generally major tourist sights are “A” listed for very good reasons — they are amazing and should be seen at least once. The Eiffel Tower, Big Ben, the Colosseum, the Great Wall, the Alhambra, the Kremlin or Sagrada Familia! And they are also usually mobbed with other tourists.

Sagrada Familia’s mob on an October day

After visiting those gems, we now are looking for the quieter corners. Less visited, but special in a different way.

That’s why we chose the Valencia region of Spain. Lots of “B” sites, plenty of history, and beautiful country.

Case in point: Ontinyent (in Valencian) or Onteniente (in Spanish), our home town, in the midst of the La Valle d’Albraida, has a historic medieval quarter built on the streets created by the Moors. Narrow passage ways that bend and curve and end. A good morning walk.

Tallest church spire in the Valencia region, some modern art and local residents we met on our walk

Maybe twenty minutes away is the small town of Bocairent. We walked the old quarter, following a map of late eighteenth century fountains. Many are still used today and most have a tile plaques providing details. Through the gaps between the buildings we could see into the valley and across to the caves. They were apparently used by Moors for storing grain centuries ago. We did not tour the caves as the tourist information official told us, we would have to “walk like cats and dogs” to see the caves.

Sights around Bocairent, and clear evidence the old water fountains still serve a purpose

Not much further away was the town of Requena, the heart of the local wine industry, primarily from a grape largely unknown at home, bobal. Wine has been grown in this region since the seventh century. We wound up at a winery recommended by a friend, Murviedro. A tasting there included a tour of the network of caves, used centuries ago for storing wine, olive oil and other goods. Once connected to houses above, when the houses were demolished to create a square, the caves were forgotten until recently rediscovered. It was an unusual setting for a wine tasting. We ended up with eight bottles of wine, including the four “young” bottles that were included in the price of the tasting (reservations recommended). All very drinkable.

The winery, with old storage casks in the caves and stairs that once led to a house above.

Another nearby town, Villena, with its Atalaya Castle, made clear the Moorish influence on the region. Built in the Twelfth century as a fortress against the Christian invasion, it was used in subsequent centuries as a gift for royal favorites, a safe haven in times of turmoil, and ultimately a prison (complete with graffiti from priests, captured in the 18th and 19th century wars). Good information posted on each floor as we climbed to the top. Really well done. Today the town appears to be going through a renaissance with the old Moorish style homes being refurbished and jazzed up.

The fortress looking down on the church that was once a Moorish mosque

We saved the best for our last day in the region. We didn’t have a lot of time so we picked one of the closer towns, Albaida. We followed our GPS right to the main square in front of the church. It looked like a pretty sleepy place on the Day of Spain holiday.

Peter found an open door and was invited in. Turns out this was a school for the bell ringers. Kids as young as six began learning the craft and that’s part of the reason why bell ringing at Albaida’s church is a UNESCO Heritage activity, continuously practiced in the traditional way — by hand — for 800 years. Other towns may hand ring their bells on special occasions or mechanically mark the hours of the day. Not Albaida. Every day, every hour and every quarter hour from morning to night, they ring the bells by hand.

We were invited to try ringing the learner bells ourselves and then got to climb to the top of the tower to hear the real thing! I lost count of the steps — there were a lot. We — four Americans and a handful of locals — gathered beneath the bells and waited. One of the young men in the group, and a stylish grandmother both chipped into help the guide explain things in English to us Americans. Typical of the response we get from locals here — pleased to help us and slightly surprised we Americans chose their community for our holiday.

Finally, using the ropes that extended to the ground floor the bells began to move. Unbelievable sound! Three slow, loud gongs followed by a song of bells. We never saw the woman who rang the bells that day!

It’s these little things — finding hidden treasures that sometimes just locals know about, chance encounters with people who offer an insiders perspective, and a chance to see things seeing up close and personal. It keeps us coming back to the small places. Onteniente, Bocairent, Requena, Villena, Albaida—these are on no ones “A” list, but are still little gems.