In flight, April 16, 2013—
IN SOME WAYS the three last meals we had in Spain — excluding breakfasts, which hardly count — represent the range of settings and styles we met on the entire trip, while being among the most enjoyable. 
Sunday night in Córdoba we stopped in at a tapas restaurant and made quite a meal of local specialties: Salmorejo, a sort of gazpacho thickened with almond purée; delicious mussels in escabeche (sweet-sour marinade); marvelous deep-fried boquerones, translated on this menu as "whitebait" and nearly as good as the epochal ones we'd had a few days earlier in Seville; and, perhaps my favorite of the night, Sartenada, a potato hash with green pepper, chorizo, dry-cured ham, with a perfect egg broken on top, in a black iron pan hot from the oven.
The waiters were knowledgeable, friendly, and fun, and we had a chat with the excellent cook, Martín, afterward. I'd go back to this place any chance I got.
Habla del Silencio (Syrah, Cabernet sauvignon, Tempranillo), 2011 (Extremadura): rich, smooth, beautifully balanced, a lovely wine
• Bodegas Mezquita, Calle del Corregidor Luis de la Cerda, 73, Córdoba; +34 957 49 81 17
Monday, on the long drive to Madrid, we pulled off the highway at a small town called La Carolina for a sandwich or something. The main street seemed deserted. The town was pleasant- looking in a bland way; it made me think of desultory towns in the Central California Valley, fifty years ago.
We sat around a table on the sidewalk outside a streetcorner bar. Grilled ham and cheese tostadas appeared, with fresh tomato concasée to spark them up. I had a plate of good local dry-cured ham and Manchego-type cheese. The proprietor seemed delighted to have this unlikely quartet of foreigners, and brought us custard éclairs for dessert, on the house. Everything was so good, so special and personal, we had to count the lunch among the highlights of the trip.
Water, since I was driving, and one of the best cups of espresso of the entire trip
• Damn: didn't get the name. It's on the Avenida Juan Carlos I, is all I can tell you, on a streetcorner.
Monday night, after that lunch, the long drive, and faced with the final packing, we were too tired to do more than go around the corner. The place is unique in all of Europe, we were assured, specializing in cheese and wine, really top-flight examples of both.
Since I'm adamantly opposed to the idea of combining cheese with fish, I insisted on proof to persuade me out of the prejudice, and ordered Brandada de bacalao y burrata di Corato con aceite de tomate seco y pimenton dulce. Three mounds of creamy, ideally balanced mousse appeared, pure white on a black slate tile, with the tiniest dusting of sun-dried tomato and pepper marmalade. With this, a glass of delicious Moscatel, so smooth and elegant you'd be forgiven for thinking it a Sauternes.
For dessert, we four shared three blue cheeses: Derbyshire Stilton, Valdeon from Castilla y León, and Picón Bejes-Tresvis from Cantabria, with three Ports, to bring our tour of Iberia to a fully integrated conclusion…
Moscatel, "Casta Diva," Gutiérrez de la Vega (Alicante), 2011; Ports, LBV, 10 year, and 20 year, Taylor's
• Cheese Bar, José Abascal, 61, Madrid; phone; www.ponceletcheesebar.es
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