I have often wondered about memories, that kind of database that our mind and heart keep, but… How are they activated? How is it possible that I am walking down a narrow, somewhat dark street and just with the smell of rain my mind transports me to my childhood town?

How is our brain structured, full of connections that take us like a grasshopper from the present to the past and from the past to the present?

I wonder if an artificial intelligence is capable of making such connections. The ones it makes are superficial, it will never be able to reach the deepest and most intimate parts of human beings: their memories, their conscience, their history.

Connections are unique and different, as different as there are people in the world. But without a doubt, if there is something in common in all of us, it is our senses. And with our senses we know and understand reality, which we often believe escapes us, but leaves a bigger mark on us than we think.

Through sight we are able to delight in art, in a new city that we are getting to know, and in a sunset, and those feelings that are created in us, that freshness, cannot be experienced by machines, they cannot create anything new.

Hearing allows us to recognize symphonies, to hear and get to know those closest to us, and to remember the sound of crickets in the middle of the night that transports us to our childhood vacation spot.

Through touch we can caress and hug our loved ones, hold a baby's hand, calm our child and connect with nature.

What is it about our childhood that holds, saves and welcomes most of our memories that our mind always returns to, with a certain respect so that everything remains intact.

Taste and smell go hand in hand, and they seem to send very similar information to our brain.

What does your childhood taste like? Is it possible that the smell of freshly baked bread reminds you of your mother's warm home? Of winter afternoons when she surprised the family by preparing cakes and pastries? With cooking we are also caressing others.

In a little corner of the Salamanca neighborhood, there is a place where I became a child again.

The restaurant is called "Los Montes de Galicia", where I went back to being that little curly-haired girl who looked in amazement at her grandfather, while he was stirring that large, deep pot on the stove.

The kitchen smelled of fire, of food that was slowly cooking and that was beginning to give off its first aromas. The stomach was receiving these signals and the palate was awakening.

The first rays of sunlight escaped through that window, as in the north of Spain, it often dawns cloudy but little by little, the clouds give way to a clear, blue sky.

I return to my reality, where a spoon dish is in front of me in a rustic and homely restaurant, with that smell of my grandparents' kitchen, and at the same time, a modern and daring place.

The tradition of los montes de Galicia together with a new way of understanding cooking. The past and the present. History meets the art of gastronomy, the technique of bringing the past to the present, in a warm, homely dish, with the flavour of local products so characteristic of one of the most distinctive dishes of the north: Galician broth.

In the heart of Madrid, the restaurant "Los Montes de Galicia" It embraces the tradition of a dish that was born in the middle of the green, leafy and magnificent province of Galicia, alongside chefs who, while respecting the original recipes, pamper the palates of diners with unique contributions that the senses and memories enjoy.

Turnip greens, cabbage, broad beans, Galician potatoes… ingredients from the garden that, when I remember them, take me back to my childhood, to those stoves where each food item generated a smell that spread throughout the kitchen.

My stomach was growling with the desire to taste that melody of smells.

My mind returns to the present, and with each spoonful, it is as if I were walking through Galicia and when I close my eyes, my sense of smell and taste are enough to make me imagine that I was returning to my grandparents' kitchen. But this time in the middle of the capital.

Isn't cooking a way of caring for those we cook for? Isn't it the cook who, with his talent, cares for and pampers others?

That's how I felt drinking that broth, caressed by fresh, traditional flavours full of history. Pampered by attentive, warm and friendly waiters.

In the midst of the hustle and bustle of Madrid, I invite you to escape from it and soak up the flavors of Galicia.

Restaurant "Los Montes de Galicia"

Beatriz Azañedo
bea.aza@hotmail.com

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