Cafe Ibai sits in the north-east of the town centre, in a neighbourhood that feels comfortingly residential with the slow mood of weekday mornings unfolding without spectacle. Ibai seeme like a place that is not trying to be discovered. By 9 am, the cafe hums softly. Retirees come in with the calm assurance of regulars who have earned their table decades ago. Newspapers are folded carefully, pages turned wide and slow. The television noise in the background. Coffee cups clink. No one is in a hurry.
The tortilla arrives fresh and disappears just as quickly. It is cut while still trembling with the runny centre runny. This is not the set, brick-like tortilla of tourist menus. You eat it while it is alive.
Worth a special trip for its tortilla? Not sure. But if you are one of those who like to experience it like locals do, you are probably at the right place.
Thanks to @luxeat for the lovely tip.
