Lourdes and I pick the swish Sojo Fusions, bar known for its blend of the modem and the Arabian mirror work on the ceiling and huge cane fans and fusion meals. Here, the creamy salmorejo makes a return, but in different flavours, mixed with beetroot, asparagus, even raisins and apple, vegetable tempura and crusty bread and local sherry. Beyond restaurants, gastronomic markets have made it big in Cordoba. The slick Mercado Victoria is comfortably sheltered under a 19th century pavilion made of wrought iron and glass (earlier used for exhibitions and fairs). Surrounded by gardens, this gastro-market is sprinkled with numerous stands.

I find myself veering off towards one that has Iberico ham and sausages and another dedicated to wines that can be paired with olives and pickled vegetables. Somewhere in the hustle of the market, I am touched when a Pakistani food stall-owner insists that I accept a plate of pakoras free of charge because I remind him of home.

On my last day, I muse over my endeavours during dinner at the Tabema La Viuda, over some berenjenascalifales (eggplant covered in a thin and crunchy coating, fried in extra virgin olive oil and drizzled with a wine reduction with a final touch of sesame and salt flakes) and tortilla de patatas (with caramelised onion and aioli). I reflect on my Spanish sojourn and the intriguing food culture of Cordoba and realise how I have glimpsed a hidden world in Spain.