Since returning from Spain, where I spent two weeks with a couple of buddies, people continually ask: "What did you do?"
We didn't visit any museums or churches. We didn't stroll around any parks or fountains. We didn't write one postcard or buy one souvenir. We ate.
We mastered the three-hour lunch, followed by the five-hour dinner. We toppled the world's greatest tasting menus and astounded waiters as we devoured a dizzying number of dishes. We drove thousands of kilometres, dashing from city to city, trying to get there in time for our reservations. We tacked on about 12 kilograms among the three of us.
We had no budgetary constraints, blowing more than $17,000 primarily on food (mostly good, occasionally awful) and wine, cava, Campari and that American stalwart Jack Daniels.
We tapped our savings and wielded our credit cards without remorse.
We're gastro freaks. And we were completely out of control.
Our gluttonous tour was mapped around a trio of famous Michelin-starred restaurants named Arzak, Mugaritz and Can Fabes. When not bagging stars, we tackled tapas at a hodgepodge of other recommended restaurants.
The trip began with the three of us rendezvousing in Madrid. Including myself, Team Spain consisted of Robert Berry and Ricky King, two chefs in Washington, D.C., with scary appetites and a deep understanding of food.
Madrid was merely a culinary sideshow of Padron peppers and fried cod. The real action lay ahead in San Sebastian, which is nestled on the Atlantic Ocean and home to Juan Mari Arzak, who is considered the father of modern Spanish cooking.
Arzak's daughter, Elena, who will one day run the restaurant, greeted us warmly. She led us into the capacious kitchen, where we observed 30 cooks silently preparing food with precision and intensity.
One of the chefs, Igor Zalakain, guided us through the twisting hallways and into the wine cellar, which houses a staggering 100,000 bottles and more than 2,300 labels. He then took us to Arzak's test laboratory, where 1,500 dried condiments - tapioca from Thailand, chili morita from Mexico - sit on the shelves. Here, Zalakain experiments with recipes until they're ready for the menu.
This brief glimpse behind the scenes gave us a greater appreciation of what we were about to eat: food rooted in the Basque tradition but with a modern flair.
The meal took hours. We devoured everything, experiencing repeated bursts of sharp, dazzling flavours. We discussed every dish, its ingredients and why it worked.
Juan Arzak, a jolly, vigorous man, came out to our table. He explained how they made the roasted lobster with freeze-dried olive oil and how they infused kefir with the essence of foie gras. In return, we praised the tuna belly and just about everything else. After nights in San Sebastian and Pamplona, where we feasted on braised bull, we headed for lunch at Mugaritz, located in the hills of Basque country at the bottom of a looming mountain between San Sebastian and Irun. Mugaritz, a two-star Michelin, was a completely different experience from Arzak. It's known for cutting-edge, rigorous techniques that involve test tubes, tweezers and the gastrovac, a machine that extracts flavours from foods without breaking down enzymes.
Mugaritz awed us. The degustation menu embraced wondrous textures and tastes. We consumed, among other things, buttery Idiazabal cheese gnocchi in salted Iberian pork bouillon; tuna fillet covered in pearl tapioca and roasted in the bottom of a cider barrel with basil leaves; and beef roasted and perfumed with thyme and other flavours. Five hours later, sipping Luis Felipe Brandy Gran Reserva on the veranda, I was sorry to leave. We had to dash across the Pyrenees to eat in Barcelona.
Exhausted, we didn't make it that night. We ended up sleeping on the side of road.
Finding decent grub wasn't guaranteed the next evening, but I had with me a suggestion from Chef Eric Ripert of Le Bernardin in New York City. A favourite among Barcelona's moneyed set, Paco Meralgo is astonishingly good. Not elegant like Arzak or Mugaritz but possessing a purity and reverence for the earthy ingredients on the plate.
We attacked, plowing through at least 18 dishes: razor clams, sea snails, chunks of black-pepper fillet, grilled cockles, broiled Padron peppers with sea salt and the best tomato bread I have ever tasted.
Three nights in Barcelona left us exhausted, but we had to rally. We had a reservation at Can Fabes, the first haute cuisine in Spain to garner three Michelin stars. Tucked away in the small town of Sant Celoni, north of Barcelona, chef Santi Santamaria awaited.
"Surprise us," we told the maître d', choosing a tasting menu of Santamaria's choice. We were eager to discover what was behind the wizard's curtain.
Santamaria wowed us, displaying a deft touch in all of his dishes. We relished the tender pork with sea cucumber, calamari with cod fish, and a dish that has been on the menu for years, cepes and confit onion encased in shrimp carpaccio.
The sommelier at Can Fabes designed a fantastic wine pairing that included a rare Chivite 125 Anniversary Chardonnay 2004 and Vina El Pison 2001. The chardonnay blew us away.
Our next stop was Valencia and La Sucursal, a one-star Michelin located in the Institut Valencia d'Art Modern that specializes in Mediterranean cuisine. This was the only time we stepped foot in a museum, and it was only to eat.
Over the next four hours, the chef dished out 10 courses. Many of them sparkled with brilliant colours like the pumpkin with creamy foie gras, beans and corn.
We walked out of the minimalist La Sucursal at about 2 a.m. We had learned plenty about the fabled Michelin standards. We had just completed a Michelin trifecta, gorging our way through the guide's tiered system.
The next day, we returned to Madrid, tired, ragged and very hungry. We couldn't think straight. We needed to come off the mountain.
Rob, steering us to a plaza dotted with tourist traps, chose our last meal in Spain: a half chicken, french fries and desperately needed salad.
We said little. What more was there to say?
We're gastro freaks.
Pack your stretchy pants
WHERE THEY DINED
La Bardemcilla 47 Augusto
Figueroa, Madrid, 34 (91) 521-4256
Bodegas Ricla 6 Cuchilleros, Madrid, 34 (91) 365-2069
Arzak 21 Alto de Mira Cruz,
San Sebastian, 34 (94) 327-8465
Mugaritz Otzazulueta
baserria 20 Aldura Aldea,
Errenteria (near San Sebastian), 34 (94) 352-2455
Otano 5 San Nicolas, Pamplona, 34 (94) 822-5095
Paco Meralgo 171 Muntaner, Barcelona, 34 (93) 430-9027
La Salseta 35 Sant Pau, Sitges (near Barcelona), 34 (93) 811-0419
TapaC24 269 Diputacio,
Barcelona, 34 (93) 488-0977
Con Fabes 6 Sant Joan, Sant
Celoni (near Barcelona) 34 (93) 867-2851
Casa Granero 9 Canto de la Torre, Serra (near Valencia), 34 (96) 168-8425
La Sucursal 118 Guillem de Castro, Valencia, 34 (96) 374-6665
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