The origin of tapas, the made-for-sharing food that’s a classic for a night out in Spain, is a bit of a murky legend.
BY DAVE FRIEDMAN
In one version of the story, in the 19th century, King Alfonso XIII made a pitstop at a Cadiz tavern. The king was thirsty for sherry, but beach sand was blowing everywhere, so an ingenious bartender shielded the monarch’s wine by covering the glass with a humble slice of jamón.
From there, the term “tapas” emerged, a nod to the Spanish verb tapar, meaning “to cover.” In the hot climate of Southern Spain, covering drinks with a slice of ham may have helped keep sand or insects away. But over time, these covers became more elaborate and evolved into the huge array of tapas that have become an emblem of Spanish culture.
In the U.S., "tapas" has turned into a signal from the server that your portions will be small, and you’d better be ready to order lots of plates. But in Spain, the whole point is that you’re drinking, and you’re going to get hungry, so you keep picking at little bits of food just so you can keep drinking longer. But the waiter isn’t circling your table, sending psychic vibes demanding you order more. You're free to sit, drink, consume your body weight in appetizers, and talk with your friends (loudly).
Even though most Spanish restaurants don’t play music, the noise level in your typical tapas bar ends up somewhere between loud and ear-splitting. When the night starts, everyone’s pretty polite and sober, but as glasses of wine are thrown back, each person has to speak just a little louder to be heard over the noise. By the time the night gets rolling, you’re yelling across the table just to be heard.
From humble to sublime.
The catch-all term tapas includes restaurants on all points of the fanciness spectrum. Just down the block from our apartment, La Barra de Boni is situated in a small-but-elegant building. Now used as a neighborhood food market with produce stalls, the Mercado Mossen Sorell was built in 1932 out of iron and glass atop the ruins of an antique gothic palace that burned down in an epic 1878 fire. The chef/owner, Boni (as in Bonnie and Clyde, she tells us), expertly handles 12-16 counter-height seats every day for lunch, serving elevated versions of Valencian plates. The menu runs the gamut from molecular gastronomy (a version of Albert Adrià’s famous liquid olives from his former Michelin-starred tapas restaurant Tickets, in Barcelona), to a plate of SoCal-inspired tacos made with chistorra, an aromatic sausage from the Basque region. Her miracle kitchen is centered around the freshest local produce and she only uses one tool to heat food—a simple air fryer.
Just across the street is Taberna El Templat, where people gather around the outdoor tapas window any night of the week and the menu is scrawled on a chalkboard. Some of our favorites are the ensaladilla rusa—their twist on the famous barely-Russian dish that resembles potato salad from a U.S. deli, but adds smoked fish, pickles, eggs, peas, shrimp, or whatever else is in the kitchen. El Templat’s version features rabbit. Stepping into this bar is like getting invited to a secret dinner party. Every time we’re there, the chef/bartender sneakily passes us tasty bites from the menu we haven’t ordered yet and sometimes some scraps from the jamón leg on display on the bar.
As sublime or humble as the tapas get, a tapas bar will never feel stuffy. Often the closest thing you’ll get to a utensil is a slice of bread. But who needs forks—all you really need is a group of good friends and an appetite.
How to pick a tapas bar
First, forget Google reviews, they’re for tourists. With tapas, there are obvious visual clues to help you choose. Ask yourself these questions:
Is it far away from a plaza?
The first rule of tapas is to avoid tourist traps. A restaurant located right next to a major city plaza is likely to be a dud. Just like a restaurant that has its menu posted in four languages. Or one with a carnival barker-type host luring passerby off the street with the promise of a free glass of wine.
Are people standing up?
A lot of the best tapas bars get so crowded that not everybody finds a seat. But it turns out you can balance wine glasses on all kinds of precarious surfaces—many of our holy-grail tapas bars feature outdoor pass-through windows where you can order at the counter while standing out on the street.
Is the age group mixed?
The most authentic tapas bars include a wide mix of ages. It's a sign that the place has broad appeal and is loved by the community.
Are there other tapas bars nearby?
Tapas-crawling is a big part of Spanish nightlife. Choose a tapas bar surrounded by others—it means a lot of people are probably coming through each night, the dishes will be fresh and the vibe will be lively.
Are the lights uncomfortably bright?
While the Spanish have perfected the 9-11 p.m. shift of nightlife, their bars and restaurants are often lit like strip-mall DMVs. Either way, don’t shy away from bars that have bright interior lights—often their obliviousness to setting the mood means their focus is on the food.
And finally…
If you get your first round and realize you chose unwisely, don’t sweat it. It’s common to have just one round of tapas at one bar and move right on to another. There are entire rutas de tapas in Spain, bar crawls meant to give your night of drinking a bit of adventure.
How to read a tapas menu in Valencia
Great for kids & beginners
Patatas Bravas
Crispy fried potatoes drenched in a spicy tomato “brava” sauce and aioli. Every tapas joint claims to have the best, and no two are exactly the same. And don’t be scared off by the “it's spicy” warnings—the Spanish have a low tolerance for spice, so don’t worry, the spice level will never be more than two or three out of ten.
Pimientos de Padrón
Little green peppers, flash-fried in olive oil until they’re nice and blistered, then sprinkled with sea salt. Supposedly, there’s sometimes a spicy one lurking in the mix, but finding it is like winning the tapas lottery. Challenge accepted.
Tortilla
Layers of potato and onion bound by the unifying power of eggs. It’s equally good on a bocadillo sandwich as it is on a plate, hot and slightly runny in the middle. It's a brag-worthy tapa, and the pro move is to take a slice home for tomorrow’s breakfast.
Showcasing local ingredients
Tomate Valenciano
A simple ode to summer—local tomatoes sliced thick, a generous pour of olive oil, seasoned with salt, and maybe a sprinkle of garlic. An extra-fancy version would have ventresca (tuna belly) or large anchovies draped across the tomato.
Clochinas
A Valencian specialty, clochinas are small, flavorful mussels that are commonly steamed and seasoned with garlic, parsley, and sometimes a touch of paprika. They’re also the most common appetizer in a family paella, but that’s a story for a different day.
Buñuelos de Bacalao
These cod fritters are served crispy and really hot. The cod is typically mixed with a light batter and deep-fried until golden brown. This Spanish-Portuguese tapa is the bite-sized miracle you never knew you needed. The version with squid ink is killer too.
For adventurous palates
Sepia a la Plancha
This grilled cuttlefish is a popular seafood tapa. It's typically seasoned with olive oil, garlic, lemon and parsley. Or do like the locals and stuff it in some bread with alioli (Spanish for aioli).
Esgarraet
Roasted red peppers, salted cod, garlic, and olive oil join forces. If you can manage to pronounce the name, you’ll be brought a medley of sweet, smoky, and savory, proving that simplicity can be the ultimate tapas flex. Best scooped up with a soft piece of bread.
Fava beans with botifarra
Fava beans are a staple in Valencian cuisine, and when paired with a locally made botifarra sausage, it’s both flavorful and belly-filling. This dish gets more popular as you work your way up the coast through Catalonia.