Once bitten: tapas crawl in Madrid

Ernest Hemingway described Madrid as "the most Spanish of all cities" and the "best to live in". It's easy to see why, with its alluring churches and monument-filled plazas; fascinating fine art museums and exotic festivals. But I'm choosing to experience the Spanish capital in a different, more delicious way - with a seven-hour tapas tour. I can't resist the chance to eat the most unusual forms of this food I can find, even though it might not be so good for my already expanding waistline!

Tapas is the name for the broad range of hot and cold appetisers or bite-sized snacks served up in Spanish cuisine. "There are two theories on why we started eating tapas," relates Jorge Alonso, proprietor of El Lacón, a trendy tapas bar in the heart of town. "One was that a piece of bread with a morsel of cheese or meat was put on top of your beer or wine to stop the flies getting in it [tapas derives from tapar, which means "to cover"]. The other is that King Alfonso the Wise, who reigned in the 13th century, fell ill and was advised by his doctor to eat lots of little meals rather than larger ones - as the public would copy the monarch, this habit caught on."

This spot is just one of 33 fantastic stalls and eateries in one of the oldest covered markets in the country: Mercado de San Miguel, which was constructed in 1916. I stand in this wonderful temple to gastronomy with locals and tourists bustling underneath a spectacularly intricate web-shaped cast-iron ceiling. Bacalao means "cod" in Spanish, so it's no wonder this fish is this place's forte. Without hesitation, I indulge: it's dished up as a sort of edible paste on French toast, with a mouthwatering garnish of lumpfish caviar. Amazingly, each portion of any tapas only costs €1 (HK$10.20).

Myriad pastel-coloured houses adorned with petite balconies and antiquated iron lamps indicate that I am on Cava Baja. This quaint, winding road, which traces the line of the old city wall, is renowned for its array of fantastic tapas bars. My first port of call is Toma Jamón, where I begin to think the owner may be a bit upset with me, because he is standing at the window brandishing a large carving knife. But my imagination is running away from me; the guy's only slicing an enormous jamón Ibérico. I just have to try some, and tuck into the moist Iberian ham with mushrooms and garlic. It's sensational.