Araba Etxea

When have you ever known me to not finish my tortilla? Never. Up until my visit to Araba Etxea, that is.
We were on our habitual «pintxos crawl» of Parte Vieja (the «old» section of San Sebastian, full of lots of little shops and restaurants at every twist and turn) and headed into a bar/​restaurant that seemed less congested than some but was still very lively. Araba Etxea displayed all the signs of promise of a pintxos bar: there were no seats to be had, the throngs of people seemed to be enjoying their drinks, and the counter was covered with an array of very traditional pintxos — stuffed piquillo peppers, croquetas, and boquerones. And maybe I thought that the swarthy, young bartender was attractive.
We were hungry and thirsty after participating in a Basque separatist demonstration (yes, this happened) and our bartender quickly retrieved two glasses of txakoli for us. I asked for a slice of tortilla — he hacked off a quarter of the tortilla (but who am I to complain). I would have loved this except that the tortilla was horrible, definitely the worst I’ve ever had. Firstly, the tortilla was way over-​salted, to the point where I tasted nothing but flor de sal. And the consistency was something from a third-​grade science project gone terribly wrong: rubbery and difficult to cut with a knife.
I used the txakoli to quench my thirst as we settled our tab with the bartender and headed to the next bar. Come here to drink, definitely not to eat.