By the edge of Puerto de la Cruz’s tiny harbour in northern Tenerife, a seafood grill operates out of a converted shipping container. Boys fish from the harbour walls, and girls jump into the choppy water, screaming—it’s mid-March, and only 20° Celsius outside. In front of me is a basket of wrinkled, charcoal-grey potatoes, served with pots of freshly made mojo rojo and verde. My beer is a Cruzcampo, brewed in Seville by Heineken—you can’t even get Canarian-brewed (and AB InBev-own...
