Right, so Spain. I went there a while back, thinking I knew what cakes were all about. Turns out, I didn’t really have a clue, not Spanish-style anyway. It wasn’t quite what I expected from my usual coffee shop back home.
My first proper encounter, I walked into this small place, a pastelería, they call it. Smelled amazing, obviously. But looking around, things seemed different. Not loads of frosting everywhere, you know? More almonds, pastries that looked kinda rustic. I decided, right, I’m gonna figure this out. So, the mission began: try as many different things as possible.
My Cake Tasting Tour (Unofficial)
I basically made it a point to stop at bakeries wherever I went. Seville, Madrid, tiny villages in the middle of nowhere. It was serious business.
- Tarta de Santiago: Saw this one everywhere. Flat, almond cake, usually with that cross shape dusted on top. First bite? Interesting. Dense, not super sweet, very almondy. Grew on me.
- Torrijas: This was more like French toast, but soaked in milk or wine, then fried and coated in sugar or honey. Had it around Easter. Pretty good, but heavy stuff.
- Magdalenas: These looked like simple muffins or fairy cakes. And yeah, they kinda were. Nice with coffee in the morning. Found lots of slightly different recipes from place to place.
- Polvorones and Mantecados: Okay, these are more like shortbread cookies, super crumbly. They told me it’s big at Christmas. Tried a few, nearly choked on the dryness first time, learned to handle them carefully!
Ordering was sometimes a laugh. My Spanish is, let’s say, basic. Pointing helped a lot. Sometimes I got exactly what I thought, other times it was a complete surprise. Some things were way sweeter than I thought they’d be, others surprisingly savoury.
The Baking Experiment Back Home
Got back home and couldn’t stop thinking about that Tarta de Santiago. It seemed simple enough, right? Famous last words. Decided I’d bake one myself. How hard could it be?
First step, find a recipe. Looked online, chaos. So many versions! Some used lemon zest, some orange, some a specific liqueur I’d never heard of. I just picked one that looked straightforward.
Next, ingredients. Needed ground almonds. Simple? Nope. The stuff in the supermarket here seemed too coarse, or too fine. Couldn’t find the right texture I remembered. Had to just guess and hope for the best. Then the sugar – the recipe just said ‘sugar’. Caster? Granulated? Who knows. I guessed caster.
Mixing was easy enough. Eggs, sugar, almonds, bit of zest. Whacked it in the oven. The recipe had a baking time. Followed it exactly. Pulled it out… looked okay. Let it cool. Cut a slice. It was dry. Like, really dry. And the edges were slightly burnt. Total fail.
Why did I even bother? Well, here’s the thing. On that trip, in this tiny cafe in Galicia, the owner, this lovely old lady who spoke zero English, gave me a slice of her Tarta de Santiago. It was honestly the best cake I’d ever had. We somehow managed a whole conversation about it using smiles and hand gestures. Before leaving, I sort of mimed that I’d try baking it back home. Felt like I’d made a promise, you know? Sounds silly, but I wanted to see if I could recreate that little moment.
So, attempt number two. Used less time in the oven, added a tiny bit more liquid (okay, I splashed in some brandy, sue me). Watched it like a hawk. It came out… better. Actually, pretty decent! Not quite like the Galician lady’s cake, but recognisable. Edible. Even got compliments.
So yeah, that was my Spanish cake adventure. Lots of tasting, a bit of confusion, and a slightly stressful baking session. Still haven’t perfected that Tarta, but the journey of trying was pretty fun, looking back. It’s not just about eating cake, it’s about the whole process, figuring things out hands-on. Still got a lot to learn about Spanish baking, that’s for sure.
