I had to do a lot of research before embarking on my drinking journey in Madrid. I had to know my cañas and my dobles, my vinos tintos and my vinos blancos, my tintos de verano and my sangrias, add onto this vermut de grifo and a yayo and you have a veritable mess.

Ordering a drink in Madrid, especially at the beginning, is quite daunting. First of all, you have no time to look at any menu or glance around at any boards because 5 seconds after you sit down or find a place at the bar, you will be asked what you would like to drink and you better be ready.

It is an easy choice for the locals – a caña if they want a small beer, a doble if they want a bigger one, say vino tinto or rioja/ribera and you will get a house red. 3 seconds and they are done ordering drinks. For us it is a bit different. First I want to know whether they have a house vermouth or vermouth on tap – we will start with that. If they do not, we both will want a glass of red wine, but God forbid not the same one(!), a bolder for Matas, a lighter for me (99% of the time they pour us the same anyway a concept of two different red wines not registering in their minds). This whole process takes time. I honestly would not mind if I had a minute or two to get my bearings about the place and not be rushed to order. I am usually so paranoid that I make sure to know everyone’s drink order before entering a bar.

Anyway, if you do not care for my drink ordering woes, read on for a few suggestions on where to grab an atmospheric drink like a local (or a tourist pretending to be local in any case).

Bodega de la Ardosa, calle de Colón, 13, 28004

Bodega de la Ardosa is a true Madrid institution hailing all the way from 1890s. Even before you approach the bar, with the first glimpse of the (overly)-decorated façade, you get that proper old-timey feeling, and you can be sure this is the real deal. The minute you step inside, you are immediately transported into ye olden golden days.

To be honest, we ended up at Bodega de la Ardosa completely by accident. Matas and I had a late dinner reservation with friends and I wanted to have a little drink and a little snack in order to not show up as a hangry, cranky, yours truly, self. So what I had in mind was a completely different bar that was also located around the corner. Why my subconscious mind took me to Bodega de la Ardosa instead of Casa Camacho (which we first visited in December) I will never know. Instead, I will chose to believe my inner self wanted me to create more content for all of my seven to nine readers. AND HERE WE ARE!

As per usual, we started with a glass of vermouth (€2.25) that came with a plate of delicious olives. While I was scanning the tapas menu, I spotted something I have not tried before, so we ordered half a portion of cazón en adobo (€9) which came out to be a dogfish (a type of shark). Honestly, at this point I was not very happy with myself and I just wanted to make sure these sharks are not overfished and, most importantly, are used in their entirety (as opposed to having their fins chopped off and thrown away to die). Jury is still out on this. Since then, I have learned that cazón en adobo is a Cadíz specialty and we saw a lot of them in seafood markets in Andalucía.

Without having ever been here before I can tell you, this bar has become more touristy with the years (no sh*t, like everything else everywhere). Why do I say that? Well, first of all, the bartender spoke proper English and then there was not a single local patron in sight.

We ordered a second round of drinks, this time house wine (which they did not have), so we settled for one rioja and one ribera (€2.65 each). The drinks were brought, were poured, were handed out but they did not come with a little snack! I think maybe the tourists do not get a second helping once in a while (of if you order a snack, the free tapas ceases). Anyway, the wines were good. One of them was much lighter which I preferred, another much more tannic which Matas preferred. So if you have a preference yourself be sure to ask for a recommendation (con cuerpo/full-bodied or más ligero/lighter).

As I mentioned above, the interior is very old school and the bar itself is very busy. Add onto that a bartender (an imposing woman at that) pouring beers and banging those half full glasses hard on the counter (there was an entire area of the bar chipped to smithereens formed by the years of abuse!) and a few waiters running back and worth, and you will get the full picture.

This one gets Ieva’s seal of approval for the interior and the atmosphere, however, even if Bodega de la Ardosa is a veritable institution, the locals-to-visitors ratio does not inspire me to want to come back soon.

Casa Camacho, calle de San Andrés, 4, 28004

Enter Casa Camacho, which is a total local’s place. We have been here twice and have never heard anyone speak anything other than Spanish. The bartender in this particular institution is unapologetically irreverent and you immediately know where you stand. There is no tourist coddling whatsoever, you either know what you are doing or you might as well go sit in the nearby square with the rest of the tourists. This appeals to me to no end (also, fake it till you make it).

I seriously do not think that this place has been renovated once since it opened in 1920s and I am here for it. The bar is lined with wooden old-school taps and the wall holds a bunch of funky tiles like: “In God we trust, everyone else pays upfront”. Casa Camacho is famous for their vermouth on tap and I can attest that it is really good. Every drinks gets you a different tapa and they are much more varied than most other places (we got chips, olives, and three kinds of different pinchos).

I love boquerones en vinagre and they serve these sardines very well-vinegared here, so when the bartender offers you some crisps to go along with them, do not be silly and say “no, thank you”. Unlike yourself, I am sure the man knows what he is doing. Here, I warned you, so you do not have to tippy toe later and sheepishly ask for those crisps after all.

Casa Camacho is one of the only places I have seen to serve a yayo (I am sure it is more common but I have never see it spelled out anywhere (and now after doing some more research I can see that yayo nowadays refers to cocaine (can anyone verify?), so here you go)). Yayo is supposed to be a vermouth drink with a little bit of gin and gaseosa but, I kid you not, this bartender makes it like there is no tomorrow. I am not sure how visible the difference in colour between the two drinks in the picture above is but Matas’s drink was quite a few degrees paler in comparison to mine. They pour their gin strong. Be warned.

Summary

Go get a drink in Madrid, experience a few blunders (like we normally do) and have fun. Some places are more intimidating than other but if you do not put yourself out of your comfort zone, will you really experience all that Madrid and Spain and any country for that matter has to offer? Worst case, you can always play “I am just a dumb tourist” card and pretend that you no idea what happened.

Here is a story for you about one of our recent drink adventures in Cadíz: we go to this place called Cervecería-Freiduría (cerveza – it is in the name of the place for Christ’s sake) and we try to order a vermouth – they only have Martini, heck no. Next we try sherry, we are in the sherry region after all, nope, no Palo Cortado, no Oloroso, no Amontillado, a single fino from Lustau. Umm, no thanks. At this point we give up and I order us two cañas like literally everyone else while the bartender shakes his head with a smirk on his face.