Before the trek to Nashville, the win-o and I took advantage of half-off bottles of wine at Las Ramblas. Known for its Spanish tapas, it was the perfect opportunity to delve into the 2003 Brut Marques de Gelida Cava. Two words: value add. We actually savored this flavor at ARPA, but it was the 2001 varietal.
As you may recall from a previous brilliant post, cava is the sparkling wine of Spain. The bottle design alone was purchase-worthy enough for me. I’m a total sucker for marketing. I own five different-colored Snuggies. I won’t leave home without my OxiClean pen. Mighty Mendit? Don’t mind if I do. Big City Slider? I’ll take four. Billy, if it weren’t for your marketing genius, America would be a dirty, hem-less, hungry mess. Cheers to you, good buddy!
At the Ramblas, the food was heavier than most tapas we have flavored. Sigh, ARPA. The patatas fritas were covered in a rich, red sauce with an overwhelmingly strong flavor. That didn’t keep me from shoveling. Top on my list were the fried goat cheese bundles of love. I could take these home and swaddle them for hours. A goochie, goochie goo. Next up were the marinated mushrooms – a healthy, savory addition to the otherwise button-popping meal. The fried chicken balls with stuff in the middle were so-so. At that point, I had inhaled more fried batter than an entire bucket o’ KFC triple dipped. That Spanish menu is tricky, people.
Other than over-indulging on all things “frita,” Las Ramblas had a cool, warehouse yet, formal vibe. Disregard the fact that it is located in a strip-shopping mall. Charlotte loves its strip-shopping malls more than a fat kid (i.e. me) loves cake on Halloween. All-in-all, it was a lovely time with the win-o.