The Oldest Bar in Seville
The Oldest Bar in Seville
Beer at El Rinconcillo
After 12 hours of sauntering through the streets of Seville, my mind overloaded with information and history, I paced towards my destination: dinner.
I was so engulfed by my ambition, I almost missed it. Peeping from the window, I caught a glimpse of the oldest bar in Seville, El Rinconcillo.
“For heaven’s sake, it is a Tuesday evening!” I exclaimed. “This is the usual buzz every day,” Diego said, smiling. There was hardly any space by the bar, and the wine barrels—which served as tables—were occupied and bustling with conversation.
Everything here belongs to history. Established in 1670, this L-shaped tapas bar is supported by heavy, wooden panels. Mahogany was the dominant color here. Maneuvering my way through the crowd, I realized there were hidden doors opening up to more tables, like those olden places with secret tunnels!
The walls displayed some of the best wines from Rioja and Ribera del Duero, but I wasn’t here to try the Spanish wine. My eyes narrowed at the tap.
Owned by Heineken, Cruzcampo is a popular Andalusian beer. A favorite among many here, the Cruzcampo Glacial is a cooler version of the pale lager. The trick, I’m told, is lining the interior of the tap with a special salt, which allows the beer to chill at -1˚C. By the time it surfaces to the glass, the ‘glacial’ temperature moves up to a warmer zero.
This I didn’t know until I felt my body react to the first sip. Evidently, experience precedes comprehension.
As I enjoyed the light, yellow lager from my glass, it eased me from my tiresome day. There was the refreshing burst that the chill brought with it, then the light froth and lacing on my glass. It wasn’t until the second sip that I tasted the mild sweetness. The old bartender gave me a smile.
What makes this bar still tick? The old decor, the aging bartenders, and the ever-crowded corners could definitely be seen as a deterrent. But the atmospheric bar has a charm like none other.
After an elaborate three-course meal, trying to justify my indulgence, I sheepishly asked Diego how many beers the average local Spaniard consumes. He explained that, owing to the hot summers, every meal is big, plentiful, and accompanied with beer in Seville. A minimum of five or six copa is a norm.
A large grin appeared on my face. “Not bad. Living like a local,” I thought, as I finished my fourth glass.