Sunday, October 28, 2007
Last night I was holed up at home with my orange juice and a half eaten baguette when I got an email from my friend David offering to bring me soup--for the plague, you understand. Where are you going to get soup, I asked. Leave it to me, he said. I know a guy. I'll be over at 930.
He called at 1000. There were some problems, but the guys are working it out. The guys? The guys at the restaurant. Working what out? It's a little complicated. OK. Don't worry. I'm not worried. We're coming. Who's we? Me and the soup. OK. You'll love it. OK.
A little after 1030, my doorbell rang. It was David and the soup: a seafood stew hailing from a Galician* restaurant called Medulio in Gracia (Avda. Principe de Asturias 6, tel. 93 217 3868). Medulio doesn't typically do takeout, but they obliged David. It's hard to say no to the guy. He has a way.
They gave him enough soup for approximately 12 people, all of it poured into an industrially sized container, which was likely the only thing in their possession resembling takeout ware. For a negotiated price, they also threw in a little something extra, which was to be revealed post-soup.
The soup came with instructions. Under no circumstances was it to be reheated in the microwave. Any application of heat was to occur on the stove top and nowhere else. At David's insistence, we dumped the soup into a pot and heated it to steaming for maximum healing efficacy.
The soup was amazing, a rich garlicky fish stock with mussels the size of my palms, baby clams and what I believe to be haddock, but identifying fish in stews isn't one of my strengths so it could have been just about anything. Small mysteries of content aside, it was delicous.
The soup was followed by the revelation of a bright yellow liquor sent to us by Medulio in a plastic cup. This, I learned, was Licor de Hierbas de Galicia or Galician Herb Liquor, which is a little bit like Jagermeister, but more tasty...and Galician. David insisted that the liquor was purely medicinal in purpose before we proceeded to polish it off--him with a presumably preventative intent.
The next morning, I felt like a new woman. I stopped myself from eating the rest of the soup for breakfast with a well deployed chocolate croissant. By the time lunch rolled around, I no longer felt the need to make such heroic efforts.
The rest of the soup is now contributing to my miraculous recovery. I have Medulio and David to thank for their ministrations on my behalf.
(* Galicia is a region in northern Spain known for its excellent seafood.)