ORTEGA, Central Milton Keynes

Sat under the new apartment complex in the far corner of the Theatre District between Waitrose and TGI’s sits Ortega. It’s dark, grubby looking, gaudily decorated with a kitsch mix of posters depicting flamboyant toreros and adverts for San Miguel and rounded off with the obligatory wicker carafes and a giant papier mache bull head. The only thing lacking for that full authentic Spanish bar is an illuminated tin foil picture of Santa Maria and an ancient foul-smelling snaggle-toothed alcoholic goat herder sitting in the corner eating stale cheese and glaring at you through a haze of cheap cigar smoke… no... wait a sec... there’s one.

In short, this is about as close to an authentic Spanish Tapas Bar as you’re going to get 3,000 miles from Alicante. Actually that’s a lie. Actual Tapas Bars are far grubbier and contain a greater propensity for Formica and plastic deckchairs, but this is the Tapas Bar done the way you’d rather remember it.

It’s Spanish. It’s run by Spaniards. It usually has Spaniards eating in it. Really that’s all you need to know. The food... wine... surly waiting staff... service... all authentic, which might be a bad thing if you don’t enjoy waiting for 40 minutes for a bowl of cold meatballs swimming in oil served by a scowling Catholic - but for my money that’s exactly what I want from a Tapas Bar.

The menu is unpretentious and noteworthy more for what it omits than what it contains. For example you’ll find your olives, anchovies, meatballs, sausages, gambas, calamari (although in this instance they’re actually chiperones), but no sardines, no sepia, no mussels, no pescaditos. This makes sense. Sure, they could probably provide them - like many of the other Tapas Bars I’ve seen spring up around the Midlands - but what’s the point? We’re about as far from the sea as you can get. This is an inland Tapas Bar and it’s acting like one. Good for them.

Having said that, it would have been nice to see a greater variety of inland cookery. Sure there’s chicken and beans and peppers, but how about some rabbit? Or lamb? One of the great things about rustic Spanish cookery is their ability to turn cheap ingredients into staggeringly Moorish (sic) broths and roasts, rich game stews steeped in garlic and grilled peppers swimming in dark smoky paprika and red wine… then again, this is a Tapas Bar, not restaurant. I guess I can forgive them from omitting Thumper from the menu.

That said, what you get is about as close to Spanish Tapas as I’ve tasted outside Spain. And how you feel about that is really dependent on how you feel about Spanish food. Tapas are little more than bar snacks. We eat peanuts and crisps, they eat meatballs and bread. Portions are small, simple, and best enjoyed one at a time over a languid three-hour lunch and a couple of bottles of Rioja. Or four. Sit, talk, eat, drink. If you go in expecting a sit-down meal you will be disappointed. Sure, you can do it like that - I could personally eat a bucket of their calamaris in a sitting - but it’s not what the food's designed for. Sit down. Order a beer. Some anchovies and bread. Eat, chat, drink, let it settle. Still hungry? Order a couple more dishes. It’s Sunday, you’ve got nowhere to be, take your time.

Of course, we’re not good at that. We never have been. The concept that Lunch is an annoyance sandwiched between the football and the afternoon movie is hard wired into our system - a chore to be eaten as quickly as possible, endured and best forgotten as a passing annoyance between beers. This is not what Tapas were designed for. They’re a complement to the company, the wine, and the time shared. They’re something to nibble on while you watch the football over a couple of bottles of San Miguel (which they serve, btw). And Ortega does the best I’ve come across outside Spain.

Plump olives; soft bread; rich porky meatballs in a deep red paprika and tomato sauce; crunchy chiperones served with a wedge of lemon; warm patatas bravas; crunchy roasted little potatoes smothered in tomato; prawns swimming between crispy slices of garlic submerged in a litre of fresh olive oil. I love this stuff and Ortega's the first place in the UK I’ve found that actually gets it right. I could eat it all day, and the good news is that’s exactly what it was designed for.

In Brief:
Expect to pay £5 approx per Tapas. Portions are small by lunch standards but remember these are bar snacks (meatballs consists of three fairly large meatballs and nothing else). Order plenty of bread and aioli (unfortunately not free) and take your time. There is no need to order everything at once. Wash down with the house Rioja (£7) or a few bottles of San Miguel (£2). Don’t order the paella.

One Line Review:
Good Authentic Spanish Tapas served in a good Authentic Spanish Tapas Bar with all the connotations that denotes.