Restaurant Review, Madrid

Somewhere softly bandurrias are playing

An Irishman I met in Valencia (we are always meeting one another) told me to get off the beaten track in Spain, to go to the small, dust-ridden pueblos where neither hibernian nor saxon nor the transatlantic twang have been heard since the generalísimo changed the time zones.

I pictured a tumbleweed-laden stretch of scorched earth inhabited by a surly b…