Pulpo bars are all over the city. Here is what I wrote in my notebook about the best one I found:
‘Casa De Pulpo', up by the station. 8 Euros for a racion, a glass of Estrella Galicia and some bread. As far as I can see this place only sells pulpo (with or without potatoes), beer, coke, wine and bread. Eat the pulpo and dip your bread in the paprika and olive oil that is left over. Perfect! There is a scrubbed, worn wooden bar, benches and toothpicks to eat the pulpo with. It is 1pm on a Sat afternoon and at the end of the bar a group of fat old men in high waisted trousers order another round of pulpo and glasses of white wine with a smile. They seem to have had quite a few rounds already. The bar is run by a mum, and someone who looks like her mum, while a very dodgy looking bloke with slick black hair and a ponytail hangs around with a mate with a skinhead. The old men shout what seem like good natured insults at mr ponytail, and wink at the women, who do not seem best pleased with him’.
‘Casa De Pulpo', up by the station. 8 Euros for a racion, a glass of Estrella Galicia and some bread. As far as I can see this place only sells pulpo (with or without potatoes), beer, coke, wine and bread. Eat the pulpo and dip your bread in the paprika and olive oil that is left over. Perfect! There is a scrubbed, worn wooden bar, benches and toothpicks to eat the pulpo with. It is 1pm on a Sat afternoon and at the end of the bar a group of fat old men in high waisted trousers order another round of pulpo and glasses of white wine with a smile. They seem to have had quite a few rounds already. The bar is run by a mum, and someone who looks like her mum, while a very dodgy looking bloke with slick black hair and a ponytail hangs around with a mate with a skinhead. The old men shout what seem like good natured insults at mr ponytail, and wink at the women, who do not seem best pleased with him’.
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