A Square Meal
Basics
Location
Per Person
Starters, aprrox 1/4 lamb, desserts, wine;
€25-35
Gratis: digestives
In not so many words
Hopes? Lamb, the old fashioned way.
Reality? One of the best lamb dishes I've ever had.
First Impressions? Tables and chairs by an entrance in the corner of a pretty square.
A USP? A wood-fired oven with fresh lamb or cochinillo/piglet done to order.
The food in three words? This is hardcore.
Can they get the staff? Probably helps if you're a regular, but Jaime and Gerardo are a decent helpful duo.
Service with smile? Gerardo's on hand and keen to sort you out.
Would you take your friends? As long as they know what's on the menu, most definitely.
Rating for a dating? Not likely, although it's a pretty location for an evening drink.
Tip? I should say so.
If you could change one thing, what would it be? It's churlish to ask for more chupitos. That's honestly the best I can do.
Going back? Almost certainly.
In Pictures
On Google Maps
In not so few words
So then. What did your Spanish friends' parents and grandparents take for granted for dinner? How often can you try what historically, traditionally, helped make Spain's food what it is?
We have to be clear, here. If you're vegetarian or vegan, this review's not going to be much good to you and, frankly, you might even want to avoid one of the photos lower down. Many things - though by no means everything - that made Spanish food what it is depend on meat. And so, so does this lunch.
Casa Maruja has been in the main square of what was a rural community but is now a dormitory town since 1955. If you've spent your time inside the M30, a menu that's not changed much in 60 years might be an eyeopener.
The main event here is something special. You order your lamb by quarter as it's just past being milk-fed. Five people meant three quarters. A giant serving dish comes straight from the 270C, wood-burning oven. Whole joints are piled atop bed of about a kilo of potatoes. Don't expect elegance, or style. It's all down to the taste.
There's no getting around this, it's one of the best lamb dishes I've ever had. What makes it outstanding are the quality of no more than half a dozen ingredients and, critically, the contents of that oven.
Fuelling it with oak (we checked) gives everything not merely a smoky taste but there's a touch of spice in the timber, making the whole thing oddly like wine-tasting. The cooking broth (sauce would give the wrong impression) ramps this up when it's added to the mounds of potatoes.
Basics
Location
Per Person
Starters, aprrox 1/4 lamb, desserts, wine;
€25-35
Gratis: digestives
In not so many words
Hopes? Lamb, the old fashioned way.
Reality? One of the best lamb dishes I've ever had.
First Impressions? Tables and chairs by an entrance in the corner of a pretty square.
A USP? A wood-fired oven with fresh lamb or cochinillo/piglet done to order.
The food in three words? This is hardcore.
Can they get the staff? Probably helps if you're a regular, but Jaime and Gerardo are a decent helpful duo.
Service with smile? Gerardo's on hand and keen to sort you out.
Would you take your friends? As long as they know what's on the menu, most definitely.
Rating for a dating? Not likely, although it's a pretty location for an evening drink.
Tip? I should say so.
If you could change one thing, what would it be? It's churlish to ask for more chupitos. That's honestly the best I can do.
Going back? Almost certainly.
In Pictures
On Google Maps
In not so few words
So then. What did your Spanish friends' parents and grandparents take for granted for dinner? How often can you try what historically, traditionally, helped make Spain's food what it is?
We have to be clear, here. If you're vegetarian or vegan, this review's not going to be much good to you and, frankly, you might even want to avoid one of the photos lower down. Many things - though by no means everything - that made Spanish food what it is depend on meat. And so, so does this lunch.
Casa Maruja has been in the main square of what was a rural community but is now a dormitory town since 1955. If you've spent your time inside the M30, a menu that's not changed much in 60 years might be an eyeopener.
And this menu's unapologetic. No, change that. It's proud. Kick off with grilled asparagus which tastes like it's still growing and is entirely addictive. Contrast with fried morcilla (Burgos style, so rice included). Less intense in flavour than others, a bit easier on the palate if you're new to it.
The main event here is something special. You order your lamb by quarter as it's just past being milk-fed. Five people meant three quarters. A giant serving dish comes straight from the 270C, wood-burning oven. Whole joints are piled atop bed of about a kilo of potatoes. Don't expect elegance, or style. It's all down to the taste.
There's no getting around this, it's one of the best lamb dishes I've ever had. What makes it outstanding are the quality of no more than half a dozen ingredients and, critically, the contents of that oven.
Fuelling it with oak (we checked) gives everything not merely a smoky taste but there's a touch of spice in the timber, making the whole thing oddly like wine-tasting. The cooking broth (sauce would give the wrong impression) ramps this up when it's added to the mounds of potatoes.
Add a decent vino. Don't scrimp. It deserves spoiling a bit. In fact, it demands it.
Dessert is as you'd expect, if you know the score. Flan, ice creams from the glass-fronted freeezer in the corner and apple pie. The latter needed a knife and fork, but take a pastry base, cover in some reasonable custard, top with apple. And....bake! That'll do, fine.
Add coffee and a friendly free shot of herb liqueur/licor de hierbas and you're done. Ready to repair to the tables outside for as many drinks as you think you can get away with as the square starts to fill up with kids and pets as dusk comes down and the lights come on.