If you go to see Picasso’s “Guernica” at Madrid’s Sofia Museum, and you should, be sure to continue on to the next room where you can browse all his preliminary sketches leading up to the evolution of a classic painting. It's anti-war, but it's anti-Spanish Civil War, circa 1936, so that doesn't make Picasso anti-American. That wasn't one of our wars.
When you have your fill of Guernica painting and its antecedents, go out the museum’s rear exit leading to the Atocha rail station. Bypass the museum cafeteria (terrible food, terrible service) and head for the Calle Paseo de Santa Maria de la Cabeza (that's a pun), then turn right along Cabeza. After crossing Ronda Atocha, the first restaurant (I think) on Cabeza is a little hole in the wall with a long bar overseen by Papa with a long apron and a lot of obvious locals both at the bar and chowing down on inviting and overflowing dishes at four or five tables. Mama stays in the kitchen.
Best restaurant we found in Madrid. The daughter, in her late 20s (and I will chauvanistically note that she's attractive), speaks English reasonably well. At least better than my Spanish. We took Mama's recommendation on what to eat and one of us was even invited into the 2-by-4 kitchen sanctum to watch it prepared.
Tell them "Jorge de Arizona" sent you. Accent on the "e." They told me to consider this outpost my home when I'm in Madrid, so I expect my friends to get the same courtesy.
After note: To my disappointment the Sofia museum itself proved disgustingly discriminatory against age-challenged Americans. No less an authority than Rick Steves had advised me that over-65s get in free.
Ah, but when we invoked "the famous American travel writer,” the unimpressed ticket seller pointed out that the over-65 free policy only extended to all EC countries, all Central and Latin America countries, former Spanish overseas colonies, all of Spain’s ships at sea and migrant workers.
It was a great museum, so I forgave them for their flagrant non-political-consciousness.