Sagardi was also a new tapas bar for us. It was a very well-kept bar, full of wood and glass and extremely flattering lighting (flattering for the patrons as well as the food!). The first night we were there, it was a bit quiet so we had no idea what we were supposed to do. The bar was really long, and no one seemed to be lingering there. We stood around waiting to get a bartender’s attention, when we noticed that a customer walked in from the patio, plate in hand, and began to load his plate with the different pinchos (little bits of food like olives and peppers skewered on toothpicks) and montaditos (food placed on a slice of baguette bread, held together with a toothpick) that were displayed on the counter.

D’s face lit up as he realized that this was a “self serve” place, and we quickly grabbed a plate and began scanning the bar. It was really quite difficult to control ourselves, as everything looked (and tasted) so good.

Since it was self-serve, we wondered how the staff would keep track of our purchases. It was simple: you gave your empty plate to the bartender, and he would count the number of toothpicks on the plate. Each item was the same price! In terms of drinks, Sagardi seems to work on the “honour” system…you keep track of your own drinks and then let the bartender know at the same time you hand in your plate of toothpicks.

I loved everything about Sagardi, but in particular, I loved the tumblers in which they served wine and sangria. I’m drawn to simple lines and clean designs, especially in kitchen wares, so I was impressed with Sagardi’s tumbler. It was broad, just tall enough, made of thin-ish glass, and had “Sagardi” etched in the lower third, with the syllables stacked in a crooked line.

They were closing one night as we were paying our bill, when D asked the young bartender if we could purchase a couple of their glasses. He posed the question to his older colleague, who shook his head gravely, as though we had asked to be excused from paying our bill. The young bartender just gave us an apologetic look as he shrugged his shoulders, and D thanked him for checking anyway.

As we turned to leave, the young man called D back. He looked around to ensure no one was looking, then quickly slid a clean tumbler towards D.

I was ecstatic (because yes, I am the type of person who gets excited over a drinking glass), and placed our new treasure in my bag. The same bag holding my giant, heavy camera. And when we were almost home, and I removed the camera to take a few pictures, I became a bit lost in the subject I was photographing. So when I placed the lens back on the heavy camera, and put it back in my bag, not thinking….

Clink. The unmistakeable sound of breaking glass. Barely obscuring the sound of my breaking heart.