364. Sun 18/3/18: El Rinconcillo, Seville

Beer: Cruzcampo 5.0%

Still, after all these years, the oldest tapas bar in Seville. It’s quite packed in here, as usual, and all fried fish appears to be off the menu.

Love these creakingly aged places; places where the patina has patina… but it’s getting very crowded and the staff seem to be having trouble coping. It’s a pity. There’s another guided tour in here. The fact that English speaking parties are being herded into places we’re visiting, and being spoon-fed “local culture”, is getting ticklish. And painfully embarrassing: one can’t help listening in, learning a little, wincing a lot.

We should probably stick to places off the tourist track… there are some perfectly adequate, and empty, bars in the area (serving the same dull beer). But this is a fantastic place – I wouldn’t want to miss it. When in Seville, do as the tourists do – just try your best to avoid the rush.

We eventually get to order some squid – which is unremarkable. On my insistence we also get chickpeas and spinach which (and it’s not the same outside El Rinconcillo) is, for me, possibly the best tapas dish there is.

56 Fri 14/4/17: El Rinconcillo, Seville

Beer: Cruzcampo 5.0%

The oldest tapas bar in Seville (so presumably the world) was established in 1670. It’s aged well, and visibly. The walk up to The Rhinoceros (as we lazily call it) is the longest we do, but it’s worth it. Unlikely though it seems, I’d reckon chickpea and spinach is the best tapas dish bar none. The ham is also good, but I don’t indulge this time round – the sherry too is meant to be exceptional, but I’ve tried that once before and wasn’t sold.

There’s the nagging thought that the place is a tourist trap and, for all (and maybe because of) its heritage and patina, the place risks disappearing up its own arse – but a trip to Seville necessitates a trip to the Rhino.

The pub is split between two bars – we’ve only ever stood by the bar at the back (where Rick Stein and that Welsh bloke stood, on the telly) where there’s also a small number of tables and chairs. But the appeal is in the age and the tiles, the artistry of the bloke slicing the jamon, the chalk on the bar counter and the smug looking fat bloke – he’s still here then. My notes for this visit wonder whimsically if they could recreate this place if they tried. My notes doubt it.