But it's just...

Had lunch at a bar that has perhaps the best Patatas Bravas in all of Spain. Insert castinet flourish here. Why, I dunno but the place is always packed. The waiter is one of those classic Spanish camereros with a voice like a foghorn and a heart as big as his size 12 shoes. Simple stuff, prepared right. After all Patatas Bravas are just fried potatoes, a slightly spicy sauce and alioli (which is another example of the mystery of "but it's just..."). But in Spain everything can have duende, even fried potatoes.