The Meatpacking District seems to
have grown up around El Faro, our next
stop. There’s a worn wooden bar, a drop
ceiling and a terrazzo cement floor so
worn that the step down into the back
dining room is soft and rounded. A
wispy, wrought-iron grate delineates
the bar from the dining room, which is
decorated with red leather banquettes
and murals of señoras in shawls and
ruffled red skirts.
We try the tortilla espanola. Order
“the big one” rather than an individual-slice serving, because then you get an
eggy, fluffy inside and a nice crusty outside. “Like a big hash brown,” says one
of my friends.
The shrimp in white sauce, a béchamel made with buttermilk, is served in
an old aluminum pot with a black plastic handle on the lid. The shrimp has a
nice bite, but the sauce is as thick as a
wool blanket. This is heavy food, especially for a tapas run, where you’re looking to eat light and continue on through
the night.
There’s nothing like a leisurely walk
after dinner to relax a full belly. We have
about 10 blocks to our next destination, and we make the experience all the
more enjoyable by walking along the
High Line, a reclaimed elevated rail line-turned-park that, with its well-tended
plantings and fabulous views, beautifully combines the urban environment
with nature. We arrive at Tia Pol happy.
This time, there is no wait. We order
a rosé and the bartender pulls the bottle
from a big galvanized bucket filled with
ice. The pork sausage has a light texture
and the richness is cut by a crisp pickled
cucumber salad.
The two women next to us order the
fava bean purée crostini. It looks like tufts
of green cotton candy on a baguette.
“Ooh, it looks like ice cream,” coos one.
“I know!” says my friend, leaning
toward them. “I saw you order that and I
was excited for you.”
Our night comes to a close, but
theirs is just beginning. Maybe they’ll be
off to El Quinto Pino or Alta or El Faro
next, headed for an evening of revelry
and riotous laughter. Or maybe they’ll
finish their fava beans and call it a night.
Because, in New York, tapas bars are
what you make of them.
