Cuca Fera, Tarragona

Saturday June 13

An exhausting day, spent with the enthusiastic Asmosians, crawling over a hot - and frankly rather uninteresting - quarry, and then tracing the stone it produced (broccatello) all over the city of Tortosa. After the usual welcome by the mayor (a young, hip politician who can really talk to the geologists) and the pleasing tradition of a "copa di cava," a pleasant, but uninspiring, midday meal of various paellas at Paiolet, and more stone-crawling until we were about ready to drop. Which we did, eventually, at our hotel.
We'd wanted to eat at Cuca Fera - named for a sort of dragon-headed tortoise, a folk-creature in these parts - since it's a sister restaurant of Pulvinar, so chose it for our last night in Tarragona. It proved to be ultra-fashionable but still friendly, in the way we've seen here: lots of well-dressed couples eating immense chateaubriands, lots of smoking, and a table of transsexuals that made us feel like we were in an Almodovar film.
Wine: a rosato, Llompart with the grat motto "ex vite vita."
Sardines "de Tarragona" on "Armenian bread." What precisely made it Armenian we never did find out.
Beefsteak of tuna - yes, a triangle of good fresh tuna grilled briefly so the inside was red, and sliced to look like many little beefsteaks - with red pepper and eggplant.
Salmon marinated in lime and butter with spices.