Sunset Langoustines and a Turbot in Malaga` – My Best (and Worst) Seafood Experiences
Seafood has always been more than just a meal for me. It’s an adventure, a lesson in culture, and occasionally, a humbling experience. Looking back, two seafood experiences stand out vividly: one unforgettable evening in Malaga`, Spain, and one rather unpleasant episode as a homesick student in the Netherlands.
The Best: A Hidden Seafood Gem in Malaga`
On a road trip through Spain, I found myself in a cab one early evening, heading into Malaga` in search of seafood. My Spanish was rudimentary at best, and I was using the ride as practice. The driver and I struggled to understand each other, but when I mentioned my ambition to try seafood in Malaga`, he interrupted with sudden certainty: “For seafood in Malaga`, there is one place only. I’ll take you there!” There was no way to protest—he was insistent.
We drove to the hills outside the city, through a shanty suburb that seemed worlds away from the glittering coast. The restaurant was quiet, perched on a small porch overlooking the city, its furniture looking as if it predated the time of Franco. It was fittingly called “El La Cabra”, the goat. I hesitated at the entrance, unsure if they were even open and whether I’d be safe. The cook came out to greet me, a gruff but welcoming presence, and when I asked to see the menu, he surprised me by grabbing my arm and ushering me into the kitchen.
He proudly displayed the day’s catch, asking me which fish I wanted, while also insisting I try his langoustines as a starter. I surrendered to his enthusiasm and soon found myself on the empty porch with a table facing the sunset, savouring perfectly cooked langoustines paired with a crisp local white wine. The city lights began to twinkle below, and as the sun dipped, the restaurant slowly filled with local diners.
By the time my main course arrived, a simply char-grilled turbot with lemon, melted butter, fresh herbs, and crispy fried potatoes, the place was bustling. I realised I had arrived early, failing to observe the typical late Spanish dining hours. But it didn’t matter: the fish was flawless, tender and flavourful, a masterclass in simplicity and freshness. I didn’t get to see any of Malaga` that evening, but I left entirely satisfied, happily taking a taxi back to my parador with a full heart and a grateful palate. And as a local no-frills eatery, I had paid next to nothing for the experience of a lifetime.
The Worst: Homesick and Poisoned in Leiden
Not all seafood experiences are joyful. During my time as an exchange student in Leiden, the Netherlands, I found myself feeling homesick and craving a taste of the familiar. I decided, after much deliberation over my limited student budget, to order pan-fried salmon at a local restaurant.
The dish arrived, but something felt off. The texture was strange, the flavour unfamiliar, and there was a tingling sensation on my tongue. Too timid to complain, aware that Dutch dining customs often place responsibility for dissatisfaction on the customer, I ate, hoping it would pass. It didn’t. Within hours, I was bedridden with food poisoning, spending three miserable days in a haze of regret and nausea.
That experience taught me caution, respect for local culinary practices, and the importance of trusting my instincts. It also reminded me how memorable a dish can be, not just for its taste, but for the context and emotions that come with it.
Reflections
Seafood, in its best and worst forms, has a way of etching itself into memory. From a shanty-suburb kitchen in Malaga` serving langoustines at sunset to a sad and disappointing pan-fried salmon in Leiden, the experiences remind me that seafood is more than just food. It is culture, adventure, and sometimes, a lesson learned the hard way.
I still chase that feeling of connection and discovery with every seafood meal, whether it’s in a tucked-away local restaurant or a well-known coastal eatery. And though not every meal is perfect, the stories they create are always worth savouring.
A story by Oyvind Ihle for Seafood Consumers Association