Cafe Bar El Paso, Bedar
Last night, it occurred to us to go to the Bedar fiestas. Calling up J & Ali, up we popped. Yes, it was a Sunday, but based on previous years we expected some tapas and bars to be floating around, and we were hoping for a pleasant evening of tapas, beers, churros and good music.
Boy, were we wrong. Turning up at 9ish, the only people at the bar were two horses, their riders, and a gaggle of assorted parents. Nay tapas. We tried the Miramar (Restaurant Miramar Bedar is supposed to have the best lamb in the area – I usually avoid it as I went to school with the children and feel embarressed when they ask me why I don’t call them anymore), but it was closed. Eventually we ended up in the only busy part of town, Cafe Bar El Paso which is at the entrance to the village in front of Cafe Bar El Cortijo. El Paso was busier, so we went there.
Lots of Brits floating around, and maybe of a couple of Spaniards. Small but long terrace outside next to the road, lots of tables, a large empty room where the main bar is, and an empty restaurant with the lights off.
El Jefe came out, puffing on his cigar. He suggested that we had a main course each, as he was “sin tapas – me lo han comido!”. So we did. What to have? He recommended the lamb, “que es muy bueno”. No leg, he added quickly, but ribs, and fresh “muy bueno”. We ordered the lamb, with the exception of Ali who had the emperador instead.
At this point I popped into the toilet. I stared, baffled, at the large squat toilet in the middle of the room. After some squinting, I noticed it was actually a shower tray with no shower (remember I’ve just had LASIK surgery). The toilet was so crammed in the corner nobody could sit on it. Hidden behind the sink as an afterthought.
Food turned up. Nice salad, but who can muck up a salad? Scratch that question, I’ve had bad salads before. But this was fresh and crisp. The bread was a spot stale.
The main course turned up, and, frankly, ’twas crap. The ribs were 90% fat, and the rest mutton. Nor was it fresh mutton. I have never, ever, anywhere, had so much fat on a rack of lamb. The chips were badly cooked from frozen. I shall say no more, as there was no more on the plate.
The bill, which was 3 lamb, 1 fish, salad, 4 Mahou, 2 7Up and a glass of red wine, came to €55.
Feeling underfed and ripped off, we went back up to the fiesta where a somewhat drunken Mexican was singing away. We ordered a beer at the only bar in town. 2€ each, for a small tubo, more of a cana. After some investigations, we discovered that the chiringuito was run by… wait for it…. Cafe Bar El Paso. Well I never. Double the price of Los Gallardos.
To add insult to injury, the Mexican was lead away by kindly people, and a “trio” (one was missing for a while, eventually tracked down at the bar) came on. I suspect they were miming. This was confirmed when the guitar player stopped moving his hands to readjust the guitar around his neck, but the guitar kept playing.
Eventually, we left. I shall not repeat what the Spaniards in the car said about the place, the evening, and our hosts. There weren’t even any churros.
Cafe Bar El Paso
Restaurant Bedar, on the left as you enter on the main road.
950 469 409
Funny article. Bedar stopped being a nice little pueblo and turned into something out of Gulliver’s Travels about ten years ago. Actually, it’s now turned full circle as the first time my parents and I went up there to eat (at Pedro Cano’s in 1967) we had cat paella. One of our party famously had the testicle.