Girl in Madrid #8: Churros and Chocolate

As the glowing globe of amber dips low and begins to sink beyond the horizon, a wave of anxiety starts to rise. I am walking down Calle de Arenal with a tattered map of Madrid, trying to locate the alley that leads to an institution that has been proudly dishing up the best churros con chocolata in the whole of Spain since 1894. Going to Madrid without stepping into Chocolateria San Gines is like going to Paris without patronising Laduree. Not that San Gines make any macarons, mind you. Their specialty is ribbons of dough fried to perfection, served with mugs of thick, dark chocolate to be dunked into. I had vowed never to leave the city until I'd sacrificed a few years off my lifespan in exchange for this sinfully delicious snack at Chocolateria San Gines.

Armed with a few bags of shopping and an avaricious determination to hunt down San Gines, I trot along the cobblestone lane, ignoring the colourful street performers and the old lady begging by the Church of San Gines. It takes me a while to notice the dark narrow alley round the corner from the church, for its existence is craftily concealed behind a few steel beams of constructional work. Nevertheless, the euphoria at stumbling upon Pasadizo de San Gines is indescribable. 50 meters away looms the revered institution-- neon signboard, densely-packed tables, and a queue waiting to get in. This is only 7.30pm. Then again, I keep forgetting that it's not dinner time for the Spanish yet. At 7.30 in the evening, the Spaniards are probably meeting up for afternoon tea, and most-- if not all-- have decided to come to Chocolateria San Gines. 

As you step into the inviting smells of chocolate and coffee, the soft, luminous yellow lights and smooth, polished marble floors evoke a feeling of familiarity. It is one of those places you keep coming back, whether it's after a night out at the clubs (this place opens 22 hours-- it closes from 7am-9am), meeting up with the girls, or after an ugly break-up where the only consolation is fried food and dark chocolate. There is a small selection of cakes on the counter, but most people here come for only one thing-- the churros con chocolata.

The first time I had churros, I was 15. I'd bought it from a vendor in Disneyland, Anaheim. It was made with a chocolate dough and coated with powdered sugar and cinnamon. It wasn't served with chocolate to dip into, but I suppose that wasn't really practical considering I was more than happy to chomp away on my doughstick while waiting in line to ride on the Splash Mountain. Almost 10 years later, I had another taste of churros at San Churro in Melbourne, which, frankly, was a little too soggy. So when I headed for Madrid, I knew I had to seize the opportunity to taste churros in their original form, and I'm glad I did. My only regret? Not knowing enough Spanish to order those thicker, chunkier churros (which-- as I came to find out much, much later-- are called porras) being served 2 tables away. Le sigh.

Best ever churros con chocolata @ Chocolateria San Gines, Pasadizo de San Gines 5, 28013 Madrid.