The allures of Spain exist in hundreds. Or perhaps thousands. In geographic attractions alone, there’s the Costa del Sol, the scattered villages of Andalucia, the craggy cliffs and rolling hills of Basque country, and the Balearic islands; and then there’s the charm of culture and arts at Seville, Bilbao and Barcelona (with Gaudi’s masterpieces), or delectable cuisine and wine; to name a (very) few. But above all the sun-kissed beaches, majestic monuments and arts that pulsate with hot-blooded passion, perhaps, is the irresistible ideology of Tapas that makes me place Spain in my list of top 10 must-visit countries.

I guess Tapas could loosely be translated as appetizers or antipasto; but they’re much more than that. They’re a sort of ritual; a time set aside for catching up with friends, for taking in the surroundings, and for warming up to food while simultaneously socializing (as opposed to focusing more on the main meal itself). This is an especially helpful custom because Spain tends to be a typically Mediterranean country in that its meal times are much later than those of the rest of the world (dinner can be anywhere from 9pm to 11pm), so a little something becomes absolutely necessary between the lunch hours (2pm to 4pm) and then.

Tapas are most common in bars, where they are sometimes free with a drink. While seafood is the most common, there is usually such great variety that one could go with a selection of Tapas alone-which is something I did quite often myself. Some vegetarian options include Patatas Bravas (Pan-fried potatoes served with spicy Salsa Brava), Champinõnes al Ajillo (Mushrooms in garlic sauce), Tortilla de Patatas (Omelette with potatoes & onion), olives, Pinchos (bread slices with toppings), Queso (cheese, mostly Castilla or Manchego), Allioli (Aioli over bread/vegetables) and my favorite, Pimentos de Padron (small green peppers-both mild and hot-saute′ed in olive oil and dusted with sea salt).

Native to the area of Padro′n, in the Galicia region of Spain, the Pimentos are small, smooth and dark green.

They impart a unique flavor, unlike most other peppers, and each individual pepper leaves its own mark on the tongue (not literally, so keep your hair on). The velvety texture to their skin wilts and shrivels up into an appetizing smoky color when fried, and the experience of picking one up with its stem and popping it into your mouth, where it will explode into a burst of savory flavor is purely divine. That, and its accompanying crisp wine, preferably from the region of Rioja.

In summer, one can expect to be greeted with a plate of these little treats at any bar/restaurant in Spain without even having to ask for them-that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t if required, though. They are not available out of season, and true to the Mediterranean culinary philosophy, they are enjoyed almost completely unadorned (save for the salt).

I almost shrieked in delight when I first came across these darlings at the Farmers’ Market here; now I could rekindle memories of the time, about 5 years ago now; when I sat in bars and cafes, taking in people, a language where 1 out of every 20 words was familiar, coastal views, crisp, local wines that ranged from Rose′ to Sherry, and a hot summer spent in blissful freedom from any other obligations but a travel schedule.