Granada's Teashops

Article by: Arpi Shively, July 2007

Turn off bustling Calle Elvira into the cobbled alleys of Caldereria Vieja or Nueva and in a few steps you've left Europe behind. The Albaicín has maintained its identity as Granada's Muslim quarter since long before the Christian reconquest in 1492. Today, alongside small open shopfronts packed with jewel-bright fabrics, odorous leather goods and eager proprietors, the fragrant darkness of the traditional Arab teterías (teahouses) beckons you out of the relentless glare of an Andalucían summer day.

Chinese green tea arrived in Morocco in the late 18th century, and was soon forming the base note for a whole bouquet of subtly scented varieties. Since then, consumption has risen steadily; Morocco is the world's largest importer. Throughout North Africa and other Arab regions, drinking sweetened tea with a miniature garden of fresh mint is an all-day habit, and offering it to guests the first act of hospitality. (You are generally offered tea three times and should accept twice.)

Though they reflect an established Arab tradition, most of the teterías in Granada were opened in the past 30 years by homesick Moroccan immigrants who wanted familiar (and alcohol-free) venues where they could meet their friends or relax after a hard day. Today they also attract a mixture of newspaper-rustling locals, tourists looking for a bit of tranquility and students deep in textbooks.

The tetería is an oasis of quiet in a noisy city. The soothing drum-and-guitar rhythms of modern North African music are a continent away from the typical Spanish cocktail of television, coffeemaker and slot machines all talking at once. Something - perhaps the absence of alcohol, or the delicate fabrics and furnishings - particularly welcomes women, who seem comfortable whether reading alone or devouring gossip and sweet pastries together around a traditional three-legged sinya table.

Kasbah makes poetry even out of its opening hours: 'from three in the afternoon until the last candle burns out'.

Strolling through Caldereria Vieja on a bright winter afternoon, you're as likely to hear 'Salaam Aleikoum' shouted in greeting as 'Hola!' From the open doorway of Al-Andalus tetería a soundtrack plays: the Arab singer bends the notes until they break, chomping the ends off his words. Chalked menus offer couscous with everything; tajines (meat, vegetable and rice combinations cooked in traditional dome-lidded earthenware pots) make a guest appearance in the faded colour photographs on display.

Nearly all the teterías in Granada are concentrated in Caldereria Vieja and Caldereria Nueva. Opening times vary considerably, from noon to (more usually) 3:00pm or even later, and most stay open beyond midnight. Kasbah, at c/Caldereria Nueva 4, makes poetry even out of its opening hours: 'from three in the afternoon until the last candle burns out'.

Nazari, Pervane, Meknes Rahma, Dar Ziryab: the names of teterías taste exotic on your tongue. Pervane, at the top of Calle Nueva, is all hidden corners and tables for two, while Meknes Rahma, also in Calle Nueva, has seating around the walls and a more spacious, less private ambience. It also has the most over-the-top lighting.

Though each tetería is subtly different, the decor is emphatically oriental, with long benches, cushioned in rich velvet and often draped with rugs, facing low carved stools and tables. Light from extravagant lamps in pierced and coloured metal throws shadows over lacy carved archways and wall reliefs. The tea service is no less a feast for the eyes. Small drinking glasses are frosted with gold and the chased metal teapot has a graceful curved spout for greater accuracy. Tea is traditionally poured into the glass from a great height to create a froth.

Teterías serve a range of herb, spice and fruit teas. Even reading the menu at Kasbah is a delight: 'The Last Sigh of the Moor', 'Tarrying in the Desert' and 'Flor de Sherezade' are listed next to Egyptian rose-mint-cinnamon, violet and bergamot teas.

For more substantial refreshment choose from a long list of batidos - delicious blends of milk with fruit, less cloyingly sweet than many commercial shakes. Avocado, banana and coconut or almond, date and honey are just two of the flavours on offer at Kasbah.

Small drinking glasses are frosted with gold and the chased metal teapot has a graceful curved spout for greater accuracy.

Cloyingly sweet indeed, but heavenly in small doses, are the typical Arab pastries such as baklava and khadaifi that seem made to accompany the delicate teas and shakes. If you're hungry try pastela, a rich filo pastry filled with spicy chicken and egg.

By now you may be quite carried away by the whole Moorish experience. If so, end your meal with some leisurely puffs on a narguile (hookah). This traditional Arab smoking apparatus is filled with tobacco, often perfumed with mint, rose, apple or banana. A hookah costs between €8-10, and sharing is thrifty and fun.

It's best to exercise caution when you leave a tetería; you may experience culture shock if you dive too swiftly back into Europe. So stop and bargain for a pierced leather lamp, stroke a silk scarf or two and pop in to Pastelería Nujaila to buy some sugar-enamelled almond tarts. Then stroll back to Calle Elvira and the brave EU world of modern-day Granada. The shadowy charms of the city's teterías will be waiting patiently just around the corner, ready to welcome your return with a gilded glass of sweetly minty té marroqui.