La Boqueria in August

It's August, not just any August, from Europe "it is advised" not to come to Catalonia, because the pandemic "is out of control" (we won't be able to stop using quotation marks for a long time, I'm afraid). In the morning, I go to the Boqueria market ---how I love the abundance of markets--- to see how it is.

I enter from the back, so I can take a look at the Petràs mushroom shop (mushrooms of all types and conditions, but also edible flowers, truffles, aromatic herbs, green shoots, vegetables, foie...). They are still setting up the shop, but I already buy some tomatoes that, I can say, are what Joan Saura wished for in that political campaign so many years ago: they taste like tomato. They also have Padrón peppers, the real ones, which can only come from Padrón. I take some and also piparras, which the owner tells me I can prepare in the same way; fried.

Some shops are closed, but for holidays. I head to the Pinotxo bar, first of all, because I really like their well-prepared coffees with milk in a narrow glass. Digression. When Ràdio Barcelona was on La Rambla for a while, due to works in the studios on Casp Street, I participated in a program (I think it was called El Busca-Raons) by Toni Marín. Josep María Buñol was there and I would say the technician was Aureli Fontanet (valuable people whom I have later met in other programs). Always, always, we would order cortados at Pinotxo and someone from the bar would bring them up to us on a tray. It was the best moment of the day. In the different radio programs, I have always found this moment. In Catalunya Migdia, from Catalunya Ràdio, which will now be La tarda, with Òscar Fernández and Elisenda Carod, I have been the one in charge of getting the coffees from La Farga. Carlos Baraibar, a radio genius who does the Fets o Fakes section every single day, applauds when his coffee with milk arrives. I hope I can continue bringing them coffees always. It's the best thing I do.

At the Pinotxo bar there is space (this never happened before) and the round, high tables (for me, very pleasant, because they allow you to leave your notebook, newspaper, and bulky papers) are empty. Before, I pass by the fruit and vegetable shop at the entrance (they have everything you want, from ginger to this vegetable called lady finger, limes, dwarf zucchini, grape leaves...). They have put spice mixes for sale and in small mortars they let you try them. The sign announcing them says: "Natural Viagra". The owner tells me that this year there are many girls traveling alone who are staying in apartments. "These buy, because they make their own lunch or dinner." Therefore, some tourists staying in apartments favor the economy of the stallholders. Those in hotels only buy juices and take photos.

At Pinotxo, behind the bar, is "Juanito", serving, who is the famous Joan Bayén everyone knows, and his nephew, Jordi Asín Bayén. "Now we have more local customers," Jordi tells me. "But we haven't learned anything. Tourism is like an insatiable predator. We say: 'This year seven million came, but next year we expect eight, nine...!'"

Next to me, two girls, I would say Japanese, ask: "Cappuccino with calamari". And I think it's good that they see me, a local, having a potato omelet with bread with tomato and a glass of cava for breakfast. When I am a tourist, I am happy to be in places frequented by "locals". Next to me, two boys eat capipota and joke with a girl about healthy living. I deduce that all three work in the market: "I need to exercise," one of the boys says. "Yesterday I saw the episode of The Simpsons where Homer eats ribs, goes to hell, and the devil ends up unhinged. I am that!" So much joy.

At the back of the bar, someone greets me. "I'm Josep Capdevila, from Avinova." Oh! Avinova. I always go shopping there, because the poultry they have is wonderful. "I'll go with you and get something," I tell him. We walk towards the shop. On the way, we talk, of course, about the pandemic and how it has affected the vendors. "We haven't lacked lettuce, we haven't lacked tomatoes... And do you know who made it happen? The wholesalers of Mercabarna!" he tells me.

As soon as we arrive, he grabs a block of foie and tells me: "Here, for a snack. But... Above all, always sliced, never spread!" I smile, as always when I'm there. "What should I get?" I ask him. "Buy coquelet." Okay. A small chicken. "And how should they debone it for me?" I ask. Then Laura, who is the wisest and most expert shop assistant you will ever meet, springs into action.

I always go to Avinova to buy, because the poultry they have is wonderful.

If you want to take my advice, go to Avinova, buy a coquelet, or whatever you fancy, and ask Laura, who is a genius at her job, to debone it crapaudine style. You'll see what a spectacle. You'll see what wisdom.