Tapas y Tintos

Taunted by accounts of bar food in Spain so splendid Hemingway lived on it, I have long been on a chateo (tapas hunt) for a place like the storied Corrillo de Ayala.

Now I search no more. Now, there is Tapas & Tintos.

The dimly lit room with a small bar and bodega on Española Way even has the exact number of tapas (32) as Madrid's Corrillo de Ayala, plus dozens of other tidbits variously called montaditos, bocadillos, raciones, bocatas or bocas in Spain and Latin America.

Tapa means lid, and T&T's menu tells a charming tale: Advised by his doctor to eat small amounts of food with wine between meals, King Alfonso X, the 12th century ruler of Castile and León, outlawed the sale of wine without food. Innkeepers complied by covering glasses and carafes with a slice of ham or cheese.

We happily toast the tradition with rounds of tapas and glass after glass of good Spanish wine. There are more than 40 to choose from plus sherries ($16-$135, about half $20 or less). Many are also available by the glass ($5-$10).

Each tapa serves three or four. We feast on serrano ham; smoked salmon; mushrooms sautéed in wine; steamed mussels; baby chorizo cooked with Spanish cider; fried calamari; and sautéed clams with tomato, garlic and parsley.

A cheese sampler boasts manchego, the sheep's milk cheese from La Mancha, and newer Spanish imports such as wine-soaked Drunken Goat from Murcia, creamy Garrotxa from Girona and blue-and-green veined Picon from the town of the same name.

It is impossible to try everything in even three or four visits, so we vow to return for Sunday paella-and-sangria brunch.