Going out for breakfast is one of my favorite things to do. Going out for tapas is nice too, but I am much more content to cook my own lunch and dinner, and far more often have the urge to eat breakfast out. It gives me a chance to get outside in the morning, the atmosphere is much more conducive to a single person just hanging out in a bar for a while and soaking up the ambiente.

I did it today because I did not manage to replenish my stocks of tea, almond milk, or non-jail eggs. I need a stimulant of some sort, so if I don't have tea, it has to be coffee. My two possible choices of breakfast at home are oats and almond milk or pancakes with whole flour. In this house, the pancakes do not sale without eggs. It is something about the frying pan or fire. I made an attempt to locate some almond milk, and saw no jail-free eggs (it is called a "jaula" - a cage. I knew what that word was as soon as I saw it on an egg box in summer 2010). I had walked past bar Bodega Vargas on my way and had a desire to just go sit in the little quaint place with Mr. Vargas, even though I shouldn't be having white bread... so I went back there and did it. This tiny place is in a side street: Rodrigo de Triana, the same street where Manuel Betanzos is, just around the corner from my house. There is only ever one man behind the bar, probably my dad's age. It is renowned for good tapas, and Mr. Vargas, like a lot of bartenders here, has a quick, dry way of serving you, but with a certain kind of warmth that generally doesn't exist in our culture. He knows most of his clients by name and talks to them. There are all sorts of cultural type photos on the walls and paraphernalia involving El Rocio, Semana Santa and futbol.

This kind of place has nothing to do with presentation, decor, design by some kind of professional working for a large impersonal but suave restaurant interior design company. It has nothing to do with false, "How are you today, oh that's nice, what can I get for you? Is everything alright for you?" It's only real: "Hola! Cafe? tostada con jamon, vale. y tomate? (a mischevious, funny sort of smile), Adios, guapa!" He is very businesslike and professional in his own way (a way that has integrity, not a put on way in which the manager taught him to speak), and has the place organised and totally ship-shape. It is not devoid of life and personality. In a place like this, you can slow down for a bit - even if it is just a few minutes. It is outside the normal world I am used to: the world of soul-less chain places, the ugly corporatization of businesses of all kinds that we all take for granted. What is wrong with all that and how it affects you on a deeper level is subtle, until you experience this. This alone makes me never want to return to Canada.

Most bars do not post lists of possible breakfast choices, though a few do. That is because everyone knows what the choices are. The choice is a tostada (toasted bun-like bread of varying sorts), and the possible things to put on it are also known by everyone: olive oil alone, olive oil and tomato, olive oil, tomato and jamon. Those are the most common, that everywhere has. Then many places also have pate, manteca (the lard, sometimes with bits of browned meaty stuff, or coloured by peppers), and one more: butter and jam.
Trying to find a place that serves a Canadian style breakfast that you are used to here, is just silly. You will pay very big bucks at a tacky tourist place to get anything resembling eggs and potatoes, or a "French" style tortilla (omlette).

Anyways, I have had my coffee with jamon, tomate y aceite and have to plan a lesson now.