At the end of a working day, people spill on to the streets and fill the bars for tapas, the savory bites that are one of the pleasures of the Spanish kitchen.
Tapas originated as a slice of ham that served as a lid on a glass, which was meant, to ward of the flies. Today the ritual is not so much what you eat as how you eat; the sound of clinking glasses and voices chattering while you nibble on tortilla, croquetas, a slice of queso manchego, pinchos or calamares before moving on to the next bar, another glass of Rioja, other tapas and other friends.
To my mind, these food bits are perfect. You can eat a little bit, then savor a little bit more until you have had enough. And you can be as picky as you like.
There may be large grilled shrimps swimming in olive oil and garlic with some crusty Spanish bread to mop it up or patatas bravas with tomato and mayonnaise or stewed octopus eaten on a small plate and fork. Some bars specialize in deliciously aromatic Serrano hams and the ceiling will be hung with whole haunches.
Plan for a succession of small tapas, some cold and some hot, some to be eaten with a plate and fork, others presented in bowls.
The joy of tapas is that you don't have to plan your evening like clock work. For once you can be part of the party from start to finish. And if anything does go wrong because you were too busy enjoying, the only person who is going to notice is you.
As the old saying goes, salud (euros?) pesetas y tiempo para gastarlas.