10 March 2007
Buffets, for me, bring to mind an overabundance of sausage rolls and dearth of decent salad. They invariably leave me full of pastry and protein, with a possible baby tomato or two as a nod to the five-a-day vegetable pushing fascists (*Twenty* grapes is one portion? Come off it!) – But I digress.
Mrs wifey doesn’t like buffets. She doesn’t know when she’s eaten enough. We recently found out that this is something to do with the difference between hunger and appetite. As Jeffrey Steingarten describes:
This partly explains how you can be fit to burst with lasagne yet somehow still have space for tiramisu. Or, in the case of tapas, how you (read I) just don’t know when to stop.
With tapas, experience has taught me to exercise restraint. It’s like a buffet with less pastry and more meatballs. And salad. Oh, and you can get it on your plate without having to get out of your chair.
Of course, you’ll not get much on your plate at any one moment, as La Tasca support the tiny plate technique, probably to maximise the other dishes on the table, as it does seem to fill very quickly.
The menu seems a little tamer than the last time we went – possibly it’s a seasonal thing, possibly it has been dumbed down. Either way, there’s no platter of whitebait to gnaw at. Instead we have fresh anchovies. It’s a naïve choice – despite the day’s glorious sun, one swallow does not a summer make. They would have been much better for a July lunch.
We also have the ‘famous’ meatballs, ribs, tortilla and salad. The ribs are tasty, if a bit scanty, but everything else (even the salad) ticks its food group box. The music, however, sucks. Techno-carnival beats do not facilitate digestion or conversation. But neither are they the end of the world.
La Tasca does not offer most exciting, authentic Spanish experience in Norwich, but it’s perfectly serviceable for the money, I’ve never had to book, and (this might be all in the mind) it feels a damn sight warmer than La Torero.
Eat here: For meatballs, brandy and flamenco techno
Keywords: Got your big plate Alan?
Buffets, for me, bring to mind an overabundance of sausage rolls and dearth of decent salad. They invariably leave me full of pastry and protein, with a possible baby tomato or two as a nod to the five-a-day vegetable pushing fascists (*Twenty* grapes is one portion? Come off it!) – But I digress.
Mrs wifey doesn’t like buffets. She doesn’t know when she’s eaten enough. We recently found out that this is something to do with the difference between hunger and appetite. As Jeffrey Steingarten describes:
‘hunger is an nagging sensation that triggers constant thoughts of food and
reminds you that your body wants to eat … Appetite is simply the tendency to eat.’
This partly explains how you can be fit to burst with lasagne yet somehow still have space for tiramisu. Or, in the case of tapas, how you (read I) just don’t know when to stop.
With tapas, experience has taught me to exercise restraint. It’s like a buffet with less pastry and more meatballs. And salad. Oh, and you can get it on your plate without having to get out of your chair.
Of course, you’ll not get much on your plate at any one moment, as La Tasca support the tiny plate technique, probably to maximise the other dishes on the table, as it does seem to fill very quickly.
The menu seems a little tamer than the last time we went – possibly it’s a seasonal thing, possibly it has been dumbed down. Either way, there’s no platter of whitebait to gnaw at. Instead we have fresh anchovies. It’s a naïve choice – despite the day’s glorious sun, one swallow does not a summer make. They would have been much better for a July lunch.
We also have the ‘famous’ meatballs, ribs, tortilla and salad. The ribs are tasty, if a bit scanty, but everything else (even the salad) ticks its food group box. The music, however, sucks. Techno-carnival beats do not facilitate digestion or conversation. But neither are they the end of the world.
La Tasca does not offer most exciting, authentic Spanish experience in Norwich, but it’s perfectly serviceable for the money, I’ve never had to book, and (this might be all in the mind) it feels a damn sight warmer than La Torero.
Eat here: For meatballs, brandy and flamenco techno
Keywords: Got your big plate Alan?
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