Pastel de Carne : Murcia's Culinary Crown Jewel

After spending two weeks in Granada with Yolanda and her family I've started back up with my Murcian routines-going to the market, attempting to read news articles in El Pais and stopping at the Espinosa Confitería before teaching English lessons in the Barrio del Carmen

The last time I went in one of the barmen greeted me with a half grin, said the equivalent of "ah, here you are-I thought we'd lost you" and asked what I'd like to drink now that I was back.  I recalled a pre-holiday visit  when an older patron sat down at the counter next to me, placed his order in a mumble and was served a little glass of tea, a packet of sugar and a bottle of whisky.  The man took out the tea bag, emptied the sugar, tipped in half a jigger and slid the bottle back towards the waiter, who collected it nonchalantly on his next pass by the bar.  I looked on and tried to recall any other time I'd seen that kind of serve yourself liquor
set-up.  While tempting, I decided a "TéWhi" might not be the best decision before going over conditonal verb conjugations with my students.

Pastel de Carne Murciano at Espinosa

During that same visit I had made my way through the hoard of people ordering trays of typical Christmas cookies like mantecados made with lard and almonds and roscos flavored with anise and sweet wine.  Presiding over the hussle and bussle was Espinosa's mustachioed owner who always wears pressed shirts and peers over the tops of his glasses and looks like a character right out of a Tintin comic (perhaps as a seemingly stern banking
mogul who proves surprisngly helpful when the young reporter needs him most).  Stationed in the open kitchen he was smoothing bright blue "FRAGILE" stickers onto boxes of holiday treats to be sent through the mail, some so big he had to lift with his knees to pick them up.  At the same time the bakers were parading out a steady stream of pastries right from the oven, raising the trays above their heads to make their way through the narrow space leading to the display case.

Anticipating an onslaught of sugar in Granada I decided to go the savory route and ordered one of the foods Murcianos are most proud of--their version of the Pastel de Carne. The waiter slid a freshly baked one onto a small white plate and even from two yards away I could hear the glorious sound of paper thin pastry shattering as he cut it into quarters. Underneath all of those crispy layers is a tender crust filled with a finely chopped mix of veal and chorizo that's been seasoned simply and topped with slices of hard boiled egg.

By the time I was done I had amassed an impressive pile of crumpled napkins and managed to eat almost all the little pastry shards left on the plate without blatantly licking it clean.  Next time I plan to go after my class so I can tuck into a Murcian meat pie along with that whiskey, and a little glass of tea.