The Root Of All Tapas

Theories as to the origin of the Spanish tapa snack are as varied as the tapa itself. The favoured theory appears to be that of an order by Philip III in the early seventeenth century which decreed that a drink in a bar had to be served with a small amount of food covering the receptacle. The idea was that, by eating the food, the effects of the alcohol would be soaked up. A tapa is literally a cover.

Other theories suggest that early tapas were specifically high in salt, designed to have precisely the opposite effect that Philip III hoped to limit, namely that the salt content activated even further drinking. The makers of the potato crisp have long understood the same tactic; or rather, British pub landlords have.

Whatever the origin of the tapa, it has long ceased to be a mere small snack to accompany a sherry or, more recently, a caña of beer. It has become, in its collective form, a whole meal. It has been put on wheel-shaped whole-meal trays and categorised according to its meatness, fishiness, veggie-ism and even dessertness. It has appeared on specially made tapa mini-tables to sit atop a regular restaurant table. It has become authenticated, in that different locations brand their tapa fare as authentic to the location (which is rarely the case). It can still sit in metal trays under a glass canopy and be covered with newspaper at night (and if you want, I'll tell you where this used to happen), but it has become altogether more sophisticated. The nouvelle tapa.

The rot set in when the same compulsion to rip pubs up and turn them into that abomination of drinking establishments, the wine bar, turned its metro attention to the tapa. It would have been some time in the early '80s I suppose. Tapas bars emerged in the aspiring-to-chicdom outer parts of British towns and cities as well as in the urban centres; they became the after-work nosheries for the yuppie, where the exotic, concept-exported nosh was swilled down with another Spanish escapee, the bottle of Rioja.

The exporting of the tapas concept then underwent a coals-to-Newcastle return and reinvention. The tapa was no more a casual side plate customarily served free in a Spanish bar. It became business. Which is where we are today. And today, the tapa has become required eating even if it isn't any good or particularly remarkable (though many a tapa is). Among the tourist class, there is one sector that wanders the streets emitting the enquiry "tapas?" as it approaches a waiter in waiting. Everything else, food-wise, has been junked. The tapa has assumed the world-of-Mallorca-food domination.

The Germans are great tapas followers, by which one means that they follow the edicts of guidebooks to the very letter. If the guidebooks say they must eat tapas, then eat tapas they most certainly will. The Scandinavians are not necessarily as guided as the Germans, but tapas culture has consumed them to the extent that they consume tapas in vast quantity. A tapas restaurant owner of my acquaintance once lent over my shoulder, rubbed his fingers and whispered through a barely concealed grin: "Scandinavians. They like tapas very much". From where I was standing by the bar, all I could see was a sea of blondness in disgustingly rude health with plates and plates of tapas being brought by a constant, fast-moving caravan of waiters and waitresses.

The British, much though they are to blame for the Great Tapas Reinvention, have only lately discovered the tapa whilst away from British shores. What was all a bit foreign is no longer. Tapas culture has gone global, or as global as you can get among the different nationalities who still fortunately do leave hotels to eat out.

The roots of the origins of the tapa in its Habsburg past (and Philip III was apparently a bit of a misery, though he inadvertently founded a tradition not associated with being miserable) have passed through their re-rooting by the out-of-Spain tapas movement and to what is another local tapas phenomenon - the tapas route.

Palma has its route (more than one in fact). Manacor has one, Artà acquired one earlier this year. There are tapas routes at fiesta time, for example in Muro or Vilafranca. And now Puerto Pollensa has its own tapas route, one that stretches from the pinewalk end of town to the nautical club part and slightly beyond. On Thursday, the route will be trodden for the first time. It remains to be seen if it becomes well-worn. You would hope so. And the challenge will be whether those on the route march can cover all the tapas. Cover, tapa ... oh, forget it.


Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.