Embutido overload in León
Chris Lynch gives us the lowdown on the bars and free tapa culture of León.
Being in love with Spain, I started the new year craving a week there in one place, mixing work with vacation. My thinking being that I would spend my days working, see how the menú del día fits into a UK-based work routine, and spend my evenings bar-hopping to find a comfortable spot to become my regular haunt.
Canvassing a few Spain-based experts, León seemed to get more than enough mentions to pique my interest. Now, for all who understand Spain’s geography and climate, heading to north-west Spain in January is not advisable, but desperate to get out there, I couldn’t delay any further than March. “That’s brave”, most of my advisers replied, whereas I preferred my colleagues' jealousy of all the sun, sea and sangria I would experience. But let’s not get into stereotypes about Spain… we don’t have time.
The experts were right, for as I exited León train station, I was hit with the cold and wet. Fear not, I’m from Manchester, so was well-prepared. Although the March weather may be inclement, my almost instant reaction to the people of León was that they are anything but cold. I found them friendly, warm, and welcoming. Even my gang at the coworking space were genuinely hugging me goodbye and sad to see me go having spent a few days together sharing Wi-Fi and plug sockets.
On first impressions, León feels like a functional city, very much a provincial capital. But you quickly sense that it knows quality and good times, especially around food and drink. Compared to the UK, where I live and see decline in a lot of places, León doesn’t feel hard done by. It feels positive, despite the weather!
Another upside is that there’s little English spoken, so it was good to be forced to speak Spanish, especially when ordering. It was great for my language learning and after a few local tintos de León I was flying.
The wine region of León, and especially the grape variety Prieto Picudo, was new to me. I can only dream of walking into a bar in the UK and finding a similar selection of well-kept wines by the glass. Not to mention the fact that 90% were under €3! And that’s with a tapa included!
My impression of Prieto Picudo reds is that they’re easy-going wines that you want to drink on a night out. A perfect ‘without-food’ wine, even if that’s never an option in León. I only had one poor glass, and that was when I strayed from the local stuff. Mencía from León is another great wine for nights out bar-hopping. It doesn’t tire your palate, and keeps you keen for more. And Clarete too for that matter, but that’s another story. It’s only when you travel to different regions in Spain that you get a deeper understanding of how well they seem to produce wines that match the local culture.
Although I referred earlier to León as being functional, the city’s Barrio Húmedo provides function in other ways. It’s the ‘wet’ neighbourhood, with the name referring to the numerous bars crammed into a tiny part of the city. This became my favourite area and where I would find my ‘local’, as I would say back home. So much so, that after a few days my usual drink was poured as I entered the bars without even ordering. I had made it!
León’s Barrio Húmedo
The other area of interest for bar-hopping is the Barrio Romántico. This is a neighbourhood that seems ideal for groups, as the bars know how to cater for large and boisterous crowds. Personally, I preferred the intimacy of the Húmedo, where bars aren’t big enough for a throng of drinkers.
But let’s get into a few specifics. When I arrived in León, early on a Saturday evening, the first bar I hit was Ezekiel on Calle Ancha, a main thoroughfare that leads down to the city’s cathedral. This place seems to act as a pit stop mid-paseo. You can head out for an evening stroll and stop off here for refreshment and a free tapa of the finest embutidos. What’s not to like. This place was slightly more upmarket and formal for a bar, although there’s a restaurant out back as is normal in Spain. So my first thought on that opening night was: if this is León, I love it!
Chris Lynch enjoying the buzz at Ezekiel
And part of that love has to do with the free tapa culture in the city. Whether it’s cecina, lomo or chorizo, the charcuterie of León is very good and a perfect accompaniment with your drink. There are also little bowls of beans (alubias), salmorejo, cheeses, hand-cut crisps (or thin fried potatoes depending on your definition), amongst other things. The mightiest being the morcilla, which in León is different and has a superb flavour.
Another of the free tapas here was carne con patatas. Although there was no pickled red cabbage in sight, it took me back to my mother’s hotpots, which, in 90s Britain, wouldn’t have had piménton in the recipe.
My favourite bar was similar to Ezequiel, in that they also prepare their own fine cured meats. It was a tiny place in the Barrio Húmedo called Bar Entrepeñas. I first went in on the Sunday afternoon and instantly fell in love. It reminded me of the wine bar that I owned a few years back; the kind of place where one person could run the whole operation from behind the bar. I found myself heading for Entrepeñas most evenings. It had great wines, great produce and a bunch of characters as regulars. I soon became one of those characters in my short time there. A “buenas” on entering the bar and then my usual wine was poured for me, with the nice touch that they remember I preferred cheese over meat (especially after the first few days in León). It was really a special place.
Bar Entrepeñas
Another joint on my regular route that I became very fond of, was El Flechazo. A classic Spanish bar, no-nonsense and straightforward, where they really knew a thing or two about those hand-cut crisps. I always chose the spicy option. They have simple, good wines too, mainly from León. It’s mainly for locals stopping-off for a quick glass, a plate of patatas, picantes o sin picar, before they go back into the rain feeling restored.
El Flechazo
Also entering my little black book (well, a digitally saved version on Google Maps), is La Competencia, a pizzeria with a buzzing atmosphere serving gluggy Prieto Picudo and free pizza tapas. I was there during Carnaval week and the place was heaving. It was a lot of fun watching the crowds of people coming in different costumes.
La Competencia
I can hear the cries already for the folk who know León: “You missed La Bicha?” Yes, I did. I really wanted to try the morcilla and experience the unwelcoming vibe (as per Google reviews). But due to its size and the crowd control, there was always a queue outside. Queuing and rainy León don’t mix. Next time though.
I did find some solace in the Barrio Romántico at La Trébede. It’s a cosy place, comforting you even further with wine and picadillo, a deconstructed chorizo that is crumbled, then fried. Delicious. It goes extremely well with fried eggs, as I found out one lunchtime on a classic menú del día. I developed a soft spot for this place and often called in en route back to my hotel for one final copita. The staff are friendly and it’s more authentic than most places in that area.
There’s so much more to León, and I’ve not even mentioned the cathedral. But alas, this is not a travel guide, it’s merely a blog post to whet the appetite and give you a sense of León and its food and wine culture. I was genuinely quite sad to leave there, as it had quickly become home to me. It’s a place where I think I could live, and will definitely revisit again with friends. The one saving grace was that I was leaving León to travel on to Oviedo, so any sadness was short-lived. But more on that another day.
As with most visits to Spain, the confident simplicity and easy accessibility of the food and drink culture amazes me. The culture of tapear feels so natural in situ, but when exported to other countries, like the UK, it just completely misses. Without the history and tradition, it’s soulless. I guess this is what drives my desire for Spain. The reality is that to truly experience all that’s good about a country, you have to be there.