HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

 I went out to dinner on my birthday! What a thrill. I haven’t eaten out since before the coronavirus lockdown. We went to one of my favorite restaurants on the Costa del Sol, Los Marinos José in Fuengirola (Málaga), where the seafood is superb. 

Los Marinos has its own fishing boat and local catch was displayed—Fuengirola octopus, shrimp and small red mullet—as well as big fish from the not-too-distant Atlantic coast, such as pargo from Tarifa. With such a fabulous array of fish and shellfish, how would I ever decide?

What a fabulous display of fresh seafood! On the far left are carabineros, giant red shrimp, and, on the far right, cigalas, sea crayfish. At the back is is 4-kilo black mero (grouper). Four of us ate half of it. (Photo by Ben Searl.)

Tempting as they were, we passed over the deep red carabineros (king prawns) and cigalas (sea crayfish) as starter. We ordered a round of conchas finas, large Venus-shell clams with glossy, mahogony-colored shells. Opened raw, they are served on the half-shell. Slightly chewy with a clean, sea flavor, conchas once were my favorite tapas treat on trips to Málaga. 

For our main course we happily agreed to share half of a 4-kilo black grouper (mero). It provided us with four thick grilled fillets plus pieces of the head, crisply fried. The fillets were cooked to perfection on the plancha. By perfection, I mean moist and flaky, not undercooked, not overcooked. Perfect. What a skill to get it so right. At first taste, I thought I wanted salt, maybe lemon. But, that was out of habit. It needed nothing. No salt, no sauce. Divine.

I'm delighted with grilled grouper and a fresh Albariño white wine. In the foreground are meaty chunks of the fish head and spine that have been crisply fried.  Using hands, eat it right off the bones. (Photo by Ben Searl.)

The waiter directed us to eat the fried pieces “with the hands, like chicken wings.” Crunchy and crusty on the outside, they yielded hunks of moist flesh tucked between bones and fins. (Even an eyeball, which my 16-year-old grandson ate. I´ll spare you the video.) 

A meme on Spanish social networks (I think it comes from an ad) goes like this: “Queridos ingleses: Aceptamos calcetines con sandalias si nos enseñáis a cenar a las ocho.” “Dear English folks: we’ll accept you wearing socks with sandals if only you’ll show us how to have dinner at 8:00.” In Spain, dinner, in normal times, is at 9, 10 or 11 pm. Our dinner reservations were for 8 pm and we were home by 10:30. Such is the culture in the days of coronavirus restrictions (new curfews in Andalusia require restaurants and bars to close by 11 pm.) I'm fine with eating early and delighted to dine again in a restaurant.

And, my birthday wishes came true! The very next day the U.S. presidential elections were called for the Biden-Harris ticket.

Los Marinos José Restaurante

Paseo Marítimo Rey de España, 161

Carvajal- Fuengirola, Málaga

(34) 952 66 10 12

http://www.losmarinosjose.com/

I had another terrific birthday gift--a team to help me pick the olives. Thanks to Ben, Leo and Mike! I came home from the mill with 22 liters of extra virgin olive oil.

Ben cuts down high branches for me to pick. Cat patrols the grounds.

My grandson, Leo, whacks olives from the tree onto a tarp.

Visitor, Capitan Mike, rakes olives from the branches.

Olives on their way to the press.  More about how virgin olive oil is produced here.

At the mill: I've got my 22 liters of fresh olive oil!