Fried Offal at Restaurante El Mirador de San Isidro

I can’t remember the first place I tried Entresijos and Gallinejas - I’ve looked through my lists and notebooks. Nothing. I can remember unsaving it from google maps when I saw that it was permantely closed. I remember around where it was but what good does that do and why am I hung up on a place that doesn’t exist anymore. In my teens I listened to Talking Heads non stop for a few years and the song (Nothing But) Flowers was and is still one of my favourite songs - do you know it? If you don’t or do and haven’t listened to it in a while put it on. I can imagine a version of that song being written for now about traditional food/restaurants. I’m not going to write it or sing it but in my head it’s there sung in David Byrnes’ voice.

There are still places to eat the fried intestines and mysentery of suckling lamb in Madrid - here, Casa Enriqueta, Freiduria Gallinejas y Entresijos Cactus, Gallinejas Y Entresijos, Bar El Divino…I liked Freiduria El Chaval which was a quick ride from the airport, either a good start or ending to the trip but like so many others, that’s gone. R.I.P.

Have you tried them? Along with visiting the Prado and the Reina Sofia museums a visit to a bar selling Gallinejas and Entresijos along with fried sweetbreads is a must in Madrid. In the bar at El Mirador you smell the lamb fat before you walk in. One morning I took the metro from the airport , about 55 minutes and sat at the bar and ordered a plate of intestines and a beer. The old waiter took the order into the kitchen where a chef stood by two big fryers. I watched him work while sipping my beer. A man played a on a loud slot machine - hoping to win. The tv remained silent, one of the waiters watched the news through pictures and headlines. The plate arrived after five minutes - crispy, salty and meaty. If they didn’t look like they did you wouldn’t know it was tripe. It taste is the crispy part of a roasted lamb shoulder. I order the mysentey in a sandwich and another beer and sat on the terrace. I watched people crossing the road when the light was red and cars stuck at a green man with no one crossing. The first bite of the sandwich burnt my mouth. It was blistered. Why I didn’t wait? I still make that mistake. The urge to eat straight away. The birds that had been singing in the trees were now on my table and at my feet. They had chosen this place as where they would nest - they would feed their young their crumbs and bits that fell or were left behind. My plane would be leaving in two hours, I left the birds, the silent tv and man at the slot machine and took the metro back to the airport.