Sketches of Spain: Hot chocolate for the ages

A mug of hot chocolate always eases the sting of a cold winter’s night, and for most of my life, I’ve been content to have a mug of milk (boiling water, if we’re low) heated up with a scoop of powder mixed in. It’s fine.

Once in a while, Martha will whip up something special: real hot chocolate, melted from brick-like blocks of Spanish chocolate, brought to a simmer, and then poured into a cup.

There’s nothing like it. (We’ve been in the habit of calling it Spanish chocolate to differentiate between the powder-based stuff, though I suspect in Spain they would just call it, well, “chocolate.”)

I finally had the opportunity to go to Spain in 2018. In Madrid, we stayed with Martha’s aunt Luci, and had fun wandering the streets, gazing at the art of Sorolla, Goya and Velasquez, and catching up with relatives. I saw that Madrid’s taberna culture — a lifestyle that values the neighbourhood eatery, which is like a pub and a family restaurant — is very much alive.

For many years, Martha told me that if you really, really want to know what hot chocolate is, you have to have it in Madrid, with a plate of churros. Or, to be more precise, porras; churros are actually thinner, and if you order churros at a chocolateria, you’ll get porras. (You’ll forgive me, I hope, for using the word churros, as that’s what always comes to mind, and it’s what we know best on this side of the Atlantic.)

Think again about that kind of a business: a chocolateria. Mmmm, chocolate, as Homer Simpson would say.

And there’s nothing like the chocolate.

And the churros, or porras. Oh my.

Churros have become more popular as a snack anywhere, with some local places in St. John’s offering their take on deep-fried dough. There’s been nothing, though, like what I had in Madrid.

Martha took me to Chocolateria Valor, not far from Puerta del Sol, in a busy shopping district of historic Madrid.

Valor is a famous chocolate brand and is distributed globally (you can find their products intermittently at Winner’s stores), but their chocolaterias are something else. It’s like an old-fashioned restaurant, with bright chrome and polished surfaces. They exist to sell chocolate, and the churros that make each cup taste even better.

The experience that first afternoon was something else. The place was largely empty owing to the time of day, so it felt like we had the place to ourselves — and I was grateful for it.

I think I lost control of my facial reactions as I had a bit of dough dunked into dense, rich chocolate.

We have blocks of Valor chocolate packed away in the pantry. Now and again, we’ll have an indulgent mug of hot chocolate. (Try to imagine a calorie-free world while you enjoy each sip.)

It’s enough to tide one over until the next trip.

Which, we are hoping, will come to pass later this year.