Mercado de San Miguel

Late Saturday evening, we left the Plaza Mayor and stepped across the street following the lights that shone on a row of multicolored fruit. Once we stepped into the 19th century iron and glass structure, we knew immediately that this was the famous Mercado de San Miguel.


Rows upon rows of vendors specializing in one item-cheese, beef, pork, vegetables. People lined the counters to sample their food. Others strolled up to the bar and had a glass of wine with tapas of sautéed chili peppers and garlic, olives and pickled onions, slices of ham, roast mushrooms, and super sweet desserts. Groups of women, couples on a date and whole families clustered in the centre leaning against the capo tables or hitched up to the stools at the skinny bars.

20120831-170327.jpgTapas and even full dinners were served. Hot meals of fried egg on French fries, chicken wings in impossibly hot sauce, thick Spanish omelettes, and yoghurt shooters. It’s Saturday night at the market.


Everywhere we went we saw families with their children out at all hours, easily blending into crowd – no loud commands, no tantrums. Just harmony. A mother feeding gazpacho to her three year old boy, a father hoisting his daughter up higher to see over the tops of heads so she could see the fanciful sundaes. Strollers easily moved through the crowd. I have never before see children being so much a part of the atmosphere without being the centre of attention.











It is now 10:30 pm and we stroll past the Plaza de le Villa, and found a little restaurant with tablecloths on the outside tables. Locals are now ready for dinner. David ops for red sausages; I chose the pheasant in brine and a lovey red wine – this time a half bottle. It is late for us and we have been up for 28 hours by this time. David received a plate piled high with little cocktail sausages and I had a pheasant breast swimming in juice. We haven’t mastered that art of ordering food quite yet.



20120831-171400.jpgI’ve never been happier.

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