Mealtime in Madrid

By AMY PATUREL

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IT’S MY LAST NIGHT IN MADRID, and my Spanish friend Alberto is taking a few of us to dinner at a unique family-owned bistro called Casa Benigna. Armed with only an address, we approach a large wooden door with wrought-iron accents. There’s no sign. No indication we’ve arrived at a restaurant. There isn’t even a gentle hum of guests dining on tapas. The place is deserted.

Then I realize it’s only 9 on a Friday night——far too early for most Madrilenos to decide where they’re going for dinner. No wonder Alberto was able to secure a reservation for us.

The door is slightly ajar, and it beckons us inside. Scandinavian plates adorn the walls, gigantic paella pans dangle from the ceiling, and dozens of books sit atop white shelves. The owners lived in Norway for 16 years, and at Casa Benigna, they blend the cuisine of northern Europe with that of the Mediterranean. So you can order everything from Norwegian herring in tasty marinades to arroz abanda, a variation of traditional paella.

Carmen Garcia Lillo, matriarch of the family and mother of the chef, pours cava as we chat about the best way to experience Madrid. She wears a loose-fitting silk blouse and sensible glasses; her white hair molds perfectly around her head. Her charming presence far exceeds her stature of less than 5 feet tall.

My friend Deb is an art-history professor, so no one is surprised when she proclaims that exploring Madrid’s world-renowned art collection at the Museo del Prado is a perfect introduction to the city. With more than 7,000 works by famed artists including Goya, El Greco, Velazquez and Tintoretto, the Prado offers the opportunity to follow the life of a painter through his works. A favorite for many is Diego Veláz quez, whose Prado masterpieces range from traditional madonnas to more conceptual paintings like Las Meninas. The huge canvas is one of the Prado’s most-talkedabout pieces.

“As you view the painting, you feel almost as though you’re in a room with Velázquez while he creates a portrait of the royal family,” says Deb. I agree. On a previous trip to Spain, I spent many hours in the Prado. Las Meninas is so large, and the figures so detailed, it pulls you into the scene and makes you feel you’re part of the painting.

Spending an afternoon admiring Las Meninas was a little too intense for our tablemate Janet, who decided to blow off culture in favor of Madrid’s unparalleled retail therapy.

“I got an adrenaline rush as the cab pulled up to Gran Via,” she says. At Madrid’s version of Rodeo Drive, store windows lure you inside with bargain prices on shoes, bags and belts, and signs that say “EL MEJOR EN MADRID” (the best in Madrid). You won’t find many American designer labels here, but you will find highquality leather goods.

Instead of shopping or museum-hopping, I decide to sip café con leche and nibble on galletas in a café near Puerto del Sol, where Hemingway reportedly wrote many of his tales. The plaza is bustling. Women chat outside the stores, elderly men play chess, and children stand transfixed as street performers entertain passers by. As a quiet observer, I imagine what their lives are like, where their families live, what they do for work. I finally understand the inspiration behind Hemingway’s brilliant stories. He was captivated by the people of Madrid——their food, their spirit, their culture, their wine.