Panadería El Rincón

After receiving strict instructions to bring home only «un tercio de empanada,» would you believe me if I told you that I left Panadería El Rincón with a whole empanada? (And not an empandilla, a WHOLE empanada.) For those of you that know me well, you would know that this behavior is not at all surprising.
The shopkeeper, an older woman, had asked me the type of empanada that I was looking for. She had empanadas filled with all sorts of seafood and meat — but when she allowed me a taste of the empanada de bacalao, it was just something else. The cod, the small pieces of pepper, raisins, and bits of onion all melted down into such a flavorful mixture in a delicious and perfectly-​textured crust. (I will probably get into big trouble for divulging that this empanada was almost better than those I had eaten homemade, prepared by someone’s mother.) The 15 euro I spent on that empanada were some of the best-​spent euro on that particular trip to Spain.
As she quickly cut the empanada into congruent slices, wrapped the parcel in paper and string, she asked if she would see me again tomorrow. Tomorrow? Needless to say, I had a bit of marathon eating to do…