Only one thing on the plan for today: lunch at Mugaritz near Donostia-San Sebastian, a restaurant famous for its experimental style. We’d just gotten used to Spanish hours, but early this morning we switched to winter time, so three pm became two pm and we get up at eight, which is actually nine? Or something? I’m thankful for modern technology, my cell phone knows exactly what to do and we can count on it knowing the right time. We have a light breakfast, put on comfy clothes, pack something more decent in a bag and set off to find an easy stroll.
Hondaribbia (or in Spanish: Fuenterrabía) is a small city right on the border with France: in fact the south side of the Txingudi bay is Basque, the north side French. We park near the water and start our stroll on the embankment. There’s a lot of people doing the exact same thing, must be a tradition on Sunday mornings. We walk south towards the tiny airport, which was constructed in the bay itself. Since there is not enough flat space near Donostia-San Sebastian to land a plane, they decide to build it here, 20 km further. Even so, it’s too short a runway for many modern aircraft and it looks like a pretty quiet place.
We make our way up to the old town – as usual in this area it’s on the highest point – and wander a bit through the charming streets. We see the Charles V castle (now a hotel, so not much to visit), the old city walls and the charming Gipuzkoa Plaza, before arriving back at the water to walk towards the port area. It’s sunny, almost 20 degrees C, with a strong wind.
Our reservation is for twelve thirty, pretty early for Spain, might be the French influence. We’ve been here before in 2013, the area looks familiar, but we suppose the restaurant might have changed a bit and we’re very curious to see what kind of food we’ll get.
The restaurant is quite busy, but not entirely full. I suppose that the staff (kitchen and waiters combined) is larger than the group of guests, which makes sense if you look at the complexity of the menu. We do not actually get a menu to choose from, but we’re asked to confirm any allergies or dislikes and informed that today it’ll be without cutlery and that the menu will not respect the traditional sequence of starters, fish, meat and dessert.
The staff, obviously passionate about the experience, explain each dish as it comes (and the paired wine for Arne), paying attention to the ingredients, preparation techniques and the philosophy around it. I won’t attempt to explain what it all tastes like and you’ll see in the pictures that they play with shapes as well as tastes and textures. For example: a apple cider flavoured skin with a sauce of pork sausage – where you have to peel the skin from a ceramic face.
We get savoury and sweet, meats and fishes and cheese, all mixed up in 23 small ‘emotions’, as they call them. Some of them I really like, some of them I find disconcerting (like the texture of the ‘skin’), but the total experience of it really challenges my preconceptions of what food is, what it should look like and how it should be combined in a menu. We have coffee/tea at the end of the meal, but there are for example no sweets to accompany it. Was this the best tasting food of this holiday? No.. Was it the nicest environment for chatting and relaxing? No.. But I really enjoyed experiencing the different point of view and think I might look differently at food from now on. They’ve recently started a project to create their own wines, working with wine and champagne houses to make dedicated blends, which can be tasted only in this restaurant.
As an aside, just as the restaurant eschews food traditions, they also welcome you to eschew dress and etiquette traditions: you are invited to wear whatever you feel comfortable in and I feel completely free to lick my fingers or even the plate. The staff reflects this freedom: they all wear the same sober costume, then combine that with wildly colourful and varied socks. Some also have body adornments like piercings and tattoos, so it feels like a very open-minded place.
The pace is pretty quick, but we linger with a glass (lemon verbena for me, sherry for Arne) and wrap up around four. I drive back to the hotel (I had only water with the meal) and we have a late siesta. I’ve finished book one and two of Robert Jackson Bennet’s Foundryside trilogy and decide to start Patrick Rothfuss’ Kingkiller Chronicles again. It’s slow and long, excellent for a holiday.
Febe writes 