Located steps from the Museo de Bellas Artes de Bilbao and seemingly a popular place for business persons and those on-the-run, a brief stop at Sanwicoffee was hoped to be just as good as that at Panko the day before, but offering little in the way of environment or customer service the experience was mostly forgettable while the food was mostly the same.
Almost “chain-like” in its design, though unlikely following any such model considering the lack of smiles and impossibly slow expediting process, Sanwicoffee offers a few mundane pintxos along with breakfast pastries, sandwiches, salads, plus a few kitchen plates and opting mostly for the former plus one postre the €13.50 total seemed excessive compared to other similar spaces while execution lagged behind.
Starting with a torta that was lighter than many but marred by potatoes that were still too starchy around a pocket of ham and cheese, red flags were raised further by a roll that was undoubtedly at least a day old, not to mention the cream cake with a center so overcooked and undersweet that it may as well have been a hard boiled egg.
Showing signs of life with an apple cake that somehow managed the tricky task of being toothsome yet exceedingly most beneath caramel soaked fruit it was with warm Torrejas that the meal was finished, the whole process completed behind the counter in a convection oven with bread no better than store bought and results about as good as one might expect, all things considered.
Always interested to see Europeans interpret traditional American desserts it was early Friday morning that a stop was made at Kikarea and although using far less sugar than typically found stateside the results were generally quite excellent, a few pastries neither Spanish nor particularly American the lone exceptions to the rule.
Located on Perez Galdos, a narrow road with limited parking necessitating most to find another area nearby, entry to Kikarea sees a small bar lined with pastries to up front with homey seating at the right and resembling something one might see in Brooklyn or PDX the shabby-chic setting is bolstered by bookshelves lined with paperbacks, black and white photos joining refurbished antique mirrors on the walls.
Pleasant and multilingual in service, one young man at the counter gathering baked goods and playing barrista while a small kitchen worked with fervor behind the scenes, prices at Kikarea trend significantly lower than those back home and trading just €12.50 for a total of seven sizable items it was with great care that each was boxed or bagged.
Taking the lot to go, a later start than anticipated caused by the general lack of Diesel in the city of Bilbao, it was in an attempt to go from light to heavy that guided the degustation, first bites of the milk cake proving buttery and only lightly sweetened, the scone that followed unfortunately so dry the center was essentially flour and baking soda – one bite was taken before the rest was left to the birds.
Improving substantially with two cookies, the crisp shatter of the chocolate version’s rim yielding a soft center studded with white chocolate chips, both cake slices proved equally well executed as up-front flavors danced amidst a moist crumb and light layers of cream cheese frosting, the Red Velvet featuring a whole lot of cocoa but nowhere near as much as an over-the-top brownie that must have weighed almost half a pound.
White, Wheat, Spelt, Rustic Baton with local cow’s butter
Prawns and Green Beans cooked in Orujo Flame
Sauteed Kokotxa, White Garlic Pil Pil
Sauteed Fresh Foie Gras with “Salt Flakes and Grain Pepper”
Hake in Seaweed Steam, Plankton, Oyster Leaf
Squid as a Risotto, Butter Flower
Grilled Iberico Pressa with Pepper Seeds and Garlic in Three Versions
Mojito
Melting Cupcake
Orange “Tocino de Cielo” Sheet with Fruit Leaves
The Different Apple Tart
Nougat, Caramel, Crispy, Macaron
Originally pursuing a career in medicine before circumstances saw an interest in hospitality develop late in school. Pedro Subijana’s resume bears little resemblance to those of contemporaries who honed their skills in the best kitchens of France, but continuing to develop a distinctive style since taking over Akelarre in 1975 there is little doubt forty years later that some things are written in the stars, the Chef and his seaside restaurant continuously holding Three from Michelin since the 2006 guide.
Writing its own story in a land where Basque traditions often mingle with modernist flare, arrival at Akelarre is not dissimilar to that of other fine dining destinations but with the two-tiered room placing some along the windows while other are elevated at its center the choice is really a matter of preference, an afternoon overlooking the ocean probably the ideal though those who prefer to witness the service spectacle may wish to peer down from above.
Divided into three eight-course tastings, a classics menu suggested as the best way to witness Subijana’s evolution throughout the years, large parties are encouraged to choose differently with a focus on sharring, the Berkarki menu plus one classic addition proving the most compelling option for myself.
Opening at 20h30 with a total of eighteen items offered along with four housemade breads when accounting for canape, mignardises, and palate cleansing sorbet suffice it to say that two hours at Akelarre features no lack of action, the opening quartet offering but a glimpse of the Chef’s willingness to elaborate on familiar flavors with discrepant ingredients and textures as the mussel croquette featured a surprising sweetness amidst brine and butter, the “Bloody Mary” an airy meringue that quickly flooded the palate and just as soon dissipated.
Impressed by the sort of bread that will challenge diners not to overindulge, both the spelt and hearty baton particularly great with curls of butter, course one of the tasting featured jumbo prawns cooked tableside over flames of Brandy, and coming out perfectly tender despite the directed heat all three were picked and sucked clean of their carapace with curls of green beans cleanring the palate between bites.
Again embracing the region in course two, fleshy hake throat delicately fried with a bit of spice and garlic adding nuance without overwhelming the gelatinous core, its follow-up showed signs of whimsy amidst textbook execution of duck liver, the “salt and pepper” haphazardly tossed over top by my server actually flavored like cocoa and vanilla as the bittersweet juxtaposition enhanced a silky center beneath the caramelized sear.
Returning to the fish from prior with a meaty fillet dusted in dried plankton that was as flaky as it was moist it was with suggestions to prepare the palate with a single Oyster Leaf that the evening marched on, the jet-black dish served next not containing a single grain of rice but virtually indistinguishable from the most delicate traditional versions given the finely chopped cephalopod and creamy stock further bolstered by butter.
Rounding out the savories with a very special presentation of acorn-only fed Iberico Pig lightly grilled and as intense as any charcuterie seen to date, it was again riffing on a classic American Cocktail that the mouth was transitioned to sweetness, the airy notes of lime and mint far more appealing to me than the actual drink.
No doubt a worldly man, hints at Americana not subtle in a “Melting” cupcake that tasted as though buttercream frosting was whipped via ISI-Container with fruit and then chilled, the Orange “Tocino de Cielo” was a return to Spanish flavors with a thin custard that tasted similar to a Carballon tinged in walnuts with light floral notes.
Intrigued by the “broken jar of Yoghurt” but told that “The Different Apple Tart” was a dish that should not be missed it was in the later that the meal reached its ending, the mignardises probably good though I really don’t remember as the caramelized tart tatin on an all-butter shortbread was as intricate in flavor as it was in its look.
Separating two Michelin 3* meals by nearly six hours with exploration of San Sebastian limited by falling rain and whipping wind that continued as it had throughout the week in Northeast Spain it was part hunger, part interest, and part seeking shelter that led me to Bar Bergara just after 18h00, and with several upscale Pintxo’s offered in a space both large and modern the dining experience proved to be a mixed one, service almost “French” in its disinterest with cost-to-quality ratios skewed too far leftward.
No doubt more ‘upscale’ than Gatz or El Globo in Bilbao, the lighting alone an improvement as visitors are treated to large tables and polished surfaces with concrete floors and ceilings spanning high, the process at Bar Bergara is nonetheless similar to that of other like-places and grabbing a plate with eyes on diversity as opposed to ‘filling up’ a five Pintxo sampling was selected along with a kitchen plated dessert.
Benefited by an early arrival, everything I tasted from the bar still warm except for the creamy liver that one would not expect to be anyhow, it was with bites of salt cod on toasted bread beneath chopped peppers and onions that the meal commenced, an “all my favorite things” follow-up of pork, cheese, and foie gras as decadent as it sounds though lent nice balance by bright citrus marmalade.
Turning to tradition for plate two, the €2.50 croquetta not only expensive but a bit oily despite being “fresh,” a better series of bites was located in the springy Spanish Torta with finely diced potatoes accented in Paprika while the simultaneously delivered flan was rich in espresso notes alongside half-melted ice cream that was unfortunately quite bland.
Fluke marinated with “patxaran” and dusted with purple corn
Lobster with Bee’s Pollen – Sweet and Acidic Flavors with Blue Honeycomb, Zucchini Spears
Red Space Egg – 65degree Red Egg, Red Peppers, Cereal Ferments, Crispy Pig Trotter
Monkfish and Rhubarb – Grilled, with Lillies
Duck with Potato Feathers – Traces of Mastic
The Big Truffle – Chocolate Ice Cream
Milk and Sea Buckthorn Pot – Smoked Sheeps Milk, Crispy Sweet Potato, Peanut with Basil Ice Cream
Ice Cream Assortment – Lemon, Apple, Red Fruit
House Herbero
Toqued by the father/daughter team of Juan Mari and Elena Arzak with ownership and operation of the restaurant dating to the latter’s great-grandfather in 1897, the style of Arzak has been described as everything from abstract to avant-garde by visitors for nearly fifty years since Juan Mari took over the kitchen, and described as an “Author’s Cuisine” by the Chef himself the focus is perhaps best summarized as “bringing years of French training back to the history of the Basque.”
The most storied of the region’s 3* Michelin, Relais & Chateaux rated properties, my visit to Azark was actually on the restaurant’s first day back from a well deserved break, and although Juan Mari was still away at a culinary conference his daughter and a staff of twenty were already hard at work when doors were opened at 12h00, another full booking seeing diners stacked in the lounge until seating began one hour thereafter.
Unmistakably fine dining, linens crisp and silver polished in a well adorned space that spans two-stories and several rooms, it was at a large table on the main floor that seating was offered to smaller parties as a group of twelve occupied much of the space above and declining opting for a dry Spanish white as I perused the multitude of menus it was with one substitution that the meal began, service beyond compare throughout the afternoon.
Presented two warms breads with freshly pressed olive oil to begin, each fine if not particularly creative and replenished without need for request, it was just five minutes before the first of six canapes was brought forth, the unfamiliar sweet plant bolstering the flavor of prawns in crisp dumplings while a bottle of pureed beans were lightened by lightly fermented apple.
Continuing a theme of bold flavors married to natural sweetness with a briny sardine wrapped around strawberry alongside a banana crisp topped in squid, the most interesting bite offered to the majority was no doubt the ripe mango matched to pork sausage while a bonus plate was shuttled my way for “coming such a long distance,” the tempuraed Cromlech inverted to be eaten “like an icecream cone” incredibly complex flavors of coffee and onion dancing amidst unctuous flavors of seared foie gras.
Taking every chance to offer unique ingredients, sometimes for looks but also often for taste, the 2015 tasting menu officially began with snappy slices of fluke ceviche with a boozy herbal tinge and progressing next to a raised glass square of sweetened lobster over an LCD screen I only wish the flavors would have been as inspired as the presentation, a tepid pool of acid offered in one corner while passion fruit gel threatened to unbalance everything at the south center of the plate.
Perplexed by the zucchini served prior, apparently intended as a bridge to flavors yet to come, course three was entitled “Red Space Egg” and although again elegantly plated with a great bit of texture the taste itself still left me wanting as red pepper flooded the palate to the point where one could hardly decipher the flavor of pork let alone any sort of funk or ‘ferment.’
At this point hitting a lull in service that saw thirty-five minutes pass before grilled Monkfish and Rhubarb were delivered with a beautiful tableside sauce of lillies it was finally with this penultimate savory that the experience finally lived up to its billing, the “feathered” duck to follow another unique bite with rosy soft flesh augmented through the addition of crisp potatoes with lingering notes of pine.
Told “The Big Truffle” should not be missed and not particularly sold on the minty dessert offered as part of the menu it was at no added charge that a substitution was made to the first of two sweets and although the tableside “melt” was no more impressive than that done elsewhere the purity of flavors was certainly appreciated, the sidecar of ice cream sporting an almost ethereal texture replicated in the herbal green scoop served with candied peanuts alongside Milk softened Sea Buckthorn bathed in smoked Sheeps Milk with Crispy Sweet Potato adding texture.
Treated to a clever cage of frozen bon-bons before a lengthy tour including the kitchen and wine cellar where lights went out temporarily to redefine “pitch black” it was back at the table that a small glass of house Herbero was offered, the punchy digestif a bit more than I could handle but apparently a reinvention of a traditional Catalonian liquor that the Maitre D’ was quite proud of and I was not rude enough to refuse.
Like a Religeuse with Cinnamon Meringue, Vanilla Custard, Caramel Cream
Pastel Crema
Pastel Crema with Citrus Meringue and Chocolate Shell
Cream Pastry
Brulee of Flan atop Sweet Bread
Located next to Panko, opening hours starting at 09h30, Pasteleria Suiza is widely considered to be one of the best independently owned bakeries in all of Bilbao and entering the tightly packed space mere moments after doors were unlocked it was evident that I was in trouble as not one item looked less than delightful though none were labeled and I was the only English speaker present.
One of those places where each item glows like a jewel behind glass, several large format cakes and chilled confections joining those still emerging from ovens in back, suffice it to say that it was after at least ten minutes deliberation with locals coming and going that an order was selected, the €23.13 tab a bit more expensive than others though the pastries do trend quite big.
Familiar with some items from prior stops, the Carballon a last second addition being placed on shelves just as I was about to pay, there is little doubt that both it and the almond croissant benefited from an early arrival in that both were still warm to touch, a similar sentiment applicable to the Pastel Creama with center still jiggly and rich with egg.
Unable to know much about other items as a result of language barriers, it was mostly on appearance that four more items were picked, and although the substantial spiral of meringue atop another custard tart disappointed by pairing chocolate to citrus while the flat bread topped in flan was almost impossible to eat without a fork and knife, both the donut filled with airy whipped cream and sculpture of cinnamon and choux were perfectly pleasant, the latter’s rich custard within each crisp orb doing a marvelous job offsetting the spice.
Waking earlier than anticipated, American Thanksgiving planned around a double feature of Arzak and Akelarre, the concept of laying in bed seemed pointless on Thursday morning and with a great gym session under my belt I made my way to rain-soaked streets in search of breakfast, Pasteleria Suiza not yet open and thus allowing for a visit to nearby Panko, a sizable restaurant that is about as “American” as Bilbao gets.
Heavily wooded and offering free WiFi, a great place to linger, meet friends, or get work done, Panko offers three meals a day both from the kitchen and in the form of pintxos, the menu running a gamut from salads to foie gras, even my request for postre at 08h00 granted without a second thought.
Not particularly busy on a Thursday, though rumors of weekend brunches being jammed packed, it was at the bar that seating was selected and chatting with the barman about his recommendations it was with good fortune that our palates seemed similar, a slice of bread from their bakery offered first with a brushing of tomato and a generous slice of nutty red ham.
Passing on American-style pancakes, one of two I’d see in all of Northeast Spain, it was onto a warm “Carbonara” torta that breakfast progressed, a melted layer of Parmigiano-Reggiano and chopped Parsley overlying the potato and egg pie studded with pepper and pancetta.
Falling bit short in the custard cake, the center simply too firm, it was with the aforementioned French Toast that the meal concluded, the center warm and wet with the outside seared golden, the caramel quenelle quick to melt and soak-in while pooling beneath whipped cream.
The recipient of more Michelin Stars than any Spanish born Chef, his eponymous restaurant in Lasarte-Oria holding three ever since 2001, it seems strange that Martin Berasategui nonetheless seems to be underrated amongst peers in the Basque region, not to mention lists touting the world’s top Toques.
Located just a few miles from San Sebastian, the spacious confines of the dining room more lavish than the likes of even Azark or Mugaritz, it was just prior to 20h00 that a parking space was located at the base of a staircase with shrubbery obscuring views of a glass-encased kitchen, Berasategui himself standing at the pass as a team of at least thirty were already at work across several highly-polished stations.
Modern in design with no lack of refinement, white gloves reapplied by severs as silverware is replaced between plates, greetings in the foyer were followed by escort to a table built for four, the tile floors and spotlighting lent an air of naturalness by white orchids and wood fireplaces plus the linen that seems almost impossibly light.
Known to dabble less in Modernism than others, his cuisine more focused on immediacy and the bounty of Northeast Spain, it is before menus are presented that aperitifs, wine, and breads are offered, a la carte options bound to tempt while the €205 tasting menu is strongly suggested and selected by most.
Offering a mix of old and new, the dishes dating back decades in some cases while others a timestamped to 2015, it is with two small bites touching on contrast that tasting is started, Berasategui’s savory Mille Feuille to follow with creamy foie gras layered by eel, the two bites leaving one wanting for several additional as the unctuous flavors dissipated to a linger that was slightly sweet.
Assuredly a place where ‘filling up’ on bread is a danger, the seed bread and foccacia of olives and anchovies particularly tempting, course two featured a frothy emulsion inside a porcelain “shell” hiding shrimp in an aromatic mousse, the follow-up oyster bursting with warm brine amidst a chilly composition of vegetal notes, spice, and top notes of Spanish wine.
Skewing Japanese in a presentation of Ankimo on an umami-rich backdrop of seaweed, mussels, and radishes in a salty green broth course six was the first in a string of five show-stoppers, the moist black nugget a compression of fermented wild mushrooms while the broth around it offered the rich aroma of truffles both French and Italian atop a bed of stewed greens.
Channeling Bras’ “Gargouillou” with an eye-catching salad studded with Slipper Lobster before offering a sous-vide egg melding complex herbs to pork, plate nine continued a theme of using protein to compliment vegetation rather than the other way around, the crisp bits of salt cod and buttery scallops used to highlight Swiss Shard that ate like matchstick potatoes in a creamy broth made from the plant’s leaves and flavors of licorice.
Substantial in the penultimate savory, a pork-veiled Hake fillet served alongside spinach pureed with black truffles and foamy flavors of K5 atop mounds of crab, it was admittedly a bit of surprise when the three-bone Lamb Chop arrived in an equally pronounced portion, sighs of being ‘too full’ heard from other tables while the tender pink meat served with sweetbreads, cheesy fritter, and light citrus still saw me smiling and faring quite well.
Unable to resist a classic, Berasategui’s 1995 Vanilla Apple Pie replacing a 2015 palate cleanser at no additional charge, it seemed to tickle the Chef that such a request had been levied as he personally saw to its service, the crust seemingly a thousand shattering layers beneath pearls of sugar with boozy cream served in a sidecar, a quenelle of sour apple sorbet pleasantly refreshing between bites.
Again glancing modern with a boulder of chocolate that could have probably been compressed to a small bon-bon were all the air squeezed out, it was with light hints of smoke that the meal came to its conclusion, the frozen components largely present for texture though the mint and whiskey’s interaction was indeed quite interesting, the same to be said of a sculpture crafted by the chef that presented petit fours and a shot of warm brandy-spiked milk.
Woodcock “Shot down the road just yesterday” with Creamy Rice and Red Fruit
Reduced Milk Ice Cream with Beetroot Juice
Basque Cake with Smoked Ice Cream and Apple
Sweet of Pumpkin, Drinking Chocolate, Goat Caramel Chocolate
Located in Atxondo and considered by many to be the premier destination for wood grilled cuisine in the world, Victor Arguinzoniz’s Asador Etxebarri sits high in the Spanish hills outside of Bilbao and seducing diners for over a decade through the pairing of fire to peerless ingredients the experience takes “barbeque” to new heights, each bite a reminder that skill plus passion can be transformative in even the oldest style of cooked food.
Starred by Michelin and a difficult reservation in part thanks to its place on San Pellegrino’s annual list, it is perhaps a bit surprising that both the Chef and his restaurant remain humble without much adornment, the only indication of the later a sign above the front door and a lot full of rental cars while Arguinzoniz himself spends the both lunch and dinner over smoking wood in a T-shirt, the days and hours off committed to family, farming, and sourcing, even going so far as to bake his own bread, churn his own butter, and make his own cheese.
Starting out in the tavern, a full house present for 13h00 seating as wind and rain rattled windows from outside, it was with brief greetings from the chef that an all-female staff led each party up the stairs, and with one small room complimenting a larger main chamber it was not long before linens were unfolded and menus presented, the €125 Chef’s Tasting selected by all in attendance while a la carte options were added by myself and several tables surrounding.
Opting for a single glass of dry Spanish white to pair with the menu, crusty bread offered in two varieties featuring a springy chew, it was but a few moments before a creamy cup of beans imbued with smoke was presented to the table, an adjacent woven plate featuring housemade chorizo on a tiny toasted baguette bold yet elegant in its spice profile and a good sign of things to come.
No doubt proud of Victor’s commitment, the staff sharing stories of the animals and process involved in making both butter and cheese, suffice it to say that it is perhaps best that the former is served as a single thin slab because otherwise far too much bed would be ingested, though I must admit I did consider a second order of the honey kissed grassy cheese.
Not particularly a fan of sardines, though the wood’s essence and light brushing of herbs served this particular fillet well, a charred rectangle of pumpkin topped with local flowers was a perfect palate cleanser accented by mint essence, the two prawns to follow absolutely breath taking in their sweetness of their tails while sucking the head brought forth familiar flavors of the sea with low notes of smoke.
Turning squid meltingly tender yet snappy by the fire, spring onions and ink nice for dipping both the body and bread, course nine saw earthy mushrooms transition the palate much like the pumpkin, the best item of the meal following with spicy chorizo the texture of velvet atop a faintly sweet corn crepe.
Portioned and coursed appropriately, no dish overwhelming as dynamic flavors were left to linger just long enough, those familiar with the aroma of white truffles could undoubtedly smell the ingredient immediately after it was served to the first table, the simple egg pudding a perfect delivery mechanism with a luxurious smoothness not dissimilar to crème fraiche.
Preceding the finale with a lightly warmed cut of tuna that would make even the most impassioned sushi fan call to mind the best slices of o-toro served raw, the savory part of the tasting menu was concluded by Arguinzoniz’s famous beef chop, the flavor as rich as any in the region while the texture was a bit more firm that found elsewhere, not the most memorable bite of the afternoon but certainly not bad at all.
Sated but not stuffed, the a la carte goose liver I’d considered adding admittedly still a regret, there was simply no way to pass up a grilled Woodcock described as being “Shot down the road just yesterday,” every bit but the feathers and entrails served atop risotto and red fruit that offered an admirable foil to the bird’s rich and gamey funk.
Ending with desserts, the tasting menu providing rich ice cream that ate more like yogurt chilled just below 0ºC in a broth of juiced beets alongside a trio of treats highlighted by sipping chocolate and a small pumpkin cake, it was on a hunch that I opted to additionally request a slice of the Gateau Basque and with chilled cow’s milk infused with smoke alongside butter, sugar, and apples the flavor was as elegant as it was decadent, every bit as wonderful as anything else during the meal.
Packing a lot into the four remaining days of vacation it was to BoChoco that the GPS was directed after exiting Don Manuel in a steady rain, and finding the small store far less fanciful than the morning’s first stop the selection was equally underwhelming, all but one of the items completely forgettable with better versions seen almost anywhere.
Perhaps better known for candies, chocolates, and confections, though none appeared extraordinary in any way, it was to Spanish-only service that questions were attempted and although admirable effort was made both ways the language gap was one of the trip’s most prominent, the order eventually cut-short at just five items as I did not wish to cause the gentleman inline behind me any further delays.
Retiring at this time to the car, the downpour growing harder and the Guggenheim scheduled to open in ten minutes time, it was perhaps two hours later that goods were removed from their packing, the Mille Feuille already besieged by sog with just one bite taken before the rest was cast away.
Moving next to a coconut crusted Alfajore, the crumbly texture of each cookie a bit disheartening given the smoothness of a sweet spread within, the Pastel Crema was equally compromised by a rubbery custard, the outlet’s eponymous item essentially just a chocolate ganache donut – fine, but nothing worth a special trip.
Saving what would turn out to be “best” for last entirely as a result of the fact that the sticky spread had made a complete mess of the bag into which it was packed, the item recommended by the young lady behind the counter turned out to be a “more than meets the eye” sort of shocker, a slice of what seemed to be bread actually a crisp pastry not unlike a Palmier while the Strawberry Jam tasted like a fresh puree of nothing but the fruit itself, sugary but not overly sweet.
Baba, Espresso Cream Puffs, Pastel Basco, Apple Tart, Tart con Crema
Carballon
Settling in to Spain, an aggressive dining agenda to see almost daily trips between San Sebastian and Bilbao, Wednesday began cold, rainy, and with an early morning run followed by pastry, the first stop upscale Pasteleria Don Manuel.
Located on automobile friendly Urkixo Zumarkalea, parking free until 09h00 with an opening time one half-hour, the design of Pasteleria Don Manuel harkens the boutique environs of places like Laduree or Baillardran but with a focus on Spanish pastry, cakes, and cookies the selection easily ranges over fifty options, a great place to share but as a solo somewhat daunting.
Bilingual in service, a finding not common at older Pasteleria like Suiza or Arrese, it was after extended perusal of shelves, cases, tables, as well as the front window that an order would unfurl, several items taken on the road while four were enjoyed with a well made Americano at one of four tables on premises.
Embracing old-world recipes at times, but often embracing a more modern approach, tasting began with a golden spiral filled with delicate pastry cream, the size in no way representative of the lightness found in each bite while the almond croissant lacked the same degree of levity, but was equally well constructed without a drop of sticky frangipane in sight.
Next tasting an item labeled Lazos de Hojaldre, the English translation of “Puff Ties” an adequate description of the glazed twist that reminisced of a cronut with less oil, final bites of the seating were invested in laminated spiral of fruit and nuts that rivaled anything found in France or anywhere else, though the sticky sweet syrup was perhaps a bit more liberally applied than persons with a slighter sweet tooth might want.
Not one to skimp, a return unlikely for this trip, it was with twelve petit fours and two more cakes that the tasting would continue after lunch at Etxebarri, none but the almond and orange Carballon on par with those tasted in store, though the dark chocolate coating a crumbly Negrito was definitely high grade while caramel coated sandwich cookies and one bite Basque cake were also quite nice.
Octopus warmed over potatoes with first press unfiltered olive oil and Spanish Paprika
Croquetas – Ham, Cod, Mushrooms
Txuletoia Euskal Herriko Label of Distinction with Fries
Cream Cake
Rice Pudding Ice Cream
Located at Calle Colon de Larreategui 1 and failed as a late arriving dinner just forty-five minutes after hopping off the plane Saturday evening when the dining room was overflowed it was with heightened interest that Tuesday 20h00 saw me walk into Nido, the female proprietor who’d expressed regret in turning me away this time there to greet me with open arms.
Narrow but long, the bar leading to the kitchen with a few tables up front and the rest lined behind a divider to the left, it was minutes before opening that parking was allocated and walking inside without reservations the written log was consulted, plenty of room at the bar plus a duo of two-tops not yet spoken for.
Oddly decorated in English Trivial Pursuit questions while music in Spanish chimed overhead, it was after several specials were offered that the menu was presented and although foie gras, ham, cheese, and tomato offerings were indeed tempting one could not ignore other traditional Basque specialties, the portions all enormous and thus explaining mostly large parties as most will need to share.
Proud of their ingredients, a true mom n’ pop place with the woman who’d greeted me acting as secretary, hostess, translator, and server when stopping by with warm slices of Octopus atop boiled potatoes topped liberally in salt, olive oil, and spice it was with a small break in her non-stop hustle that the simple preparation was described in great detail, her husband manning the kitchen arriving early each day to clean, tenderize, and marinade the muscular yet supple meat.
Absolutely mesmerized by the opener, potatoes mostly set aside for sake of capacity since house-made bread proved far better for sopping up the paprika speckled oil, round two offered six croquettas that one is advised to to dig straight into due to the temperature, each bite virtually oilless while the fillings of cod, mushrooms, and ham were fortified with cheese and a richness quite profound.
Knowing that I’d likely bit off more than I could chew in ordering a kilogram of beef after a day already filled with food atop an early start, it seemed pointless to visit Nido without a taste of the signature Txuletoia, and with an Euskal Herriko Label of Distinction proudly described by the Chef as meeting or surpassing the region’s highest standards each grassy bite melted like butter on the palate with a richness rivaling even the best dry-aged steak back home at a fraction of the cost.
Told that desserts should not be overlooked, all including a dozen ice cream flavors made on site, it was with a few strips of rosy red beef set aside along with a pile of fries that the meal was concluded, the cream cake no different than those served at any panaderia while the frozen rice pudding was a spot on representation of the traditional version right down to the subtle cinnamon and toothsome starchy spots.
Idiazabal Cream Tartelette with Walnut and Apricot
Sheep Cheese with Balsamic Onion Jam
Salt Cod Gratinee
Sepia Gratinee
Mullet Gratinee with Paprika
Crunchy Morcilla with Raisins
Baby Squid with Leeks
Heritage Iberico Sandwich
Americano
Gateau Basque
Perhaps the most well known place for pintxos in Bilbao it was after three days in Bordeaux that a visit to Bar El Globo was made, and although an 18h30 arrival found the indoor space near filled to capacity the service could not have been more friendly as more than a dozen bar bites complimented a sizable menu of made-to-order plates.
Operating more like a proper ‘restaurant’ than a place to simply grab a drink or snack, there is little doubt that much of El Globo’s praise is generated by multi-lingual menus plus an abundance of advertisement, but with marketing set aside the experience still feels quite local and authentic, the majority of patrons speaking Spanish and most of them likely fresh off a long day at work.
Slightly more expensive than Gatz or Irrintzi, yet at the same time going the extra mile to plate certain items and return them to the kitchen so that they could be enjoyed warm, it seemed completely irrational not to start with an acorn-fed Iberico finger sandwich presented for just two Euros, the following gratinees of squid and baccala both re-emerging from the kitchen moments later all creamy, salty, and hot.
So impressed by the cod that mackerel topped in paprika immediately became a ‘must,’ round two additionally featured lightly breaded tentacles of squid atop pan seared leeks, the balance shifted a little bit too far to the latter while housemade blood sausage was presented as a funky breaded nugget with subtle notes of sweetness provided by chopped dried fruit.
Opting next for two cheeses, both sent to the kitchen for heat while I heeded the server’s advice to try soft ham dusted in Parmesan, those harboring a love for Idiazabal would do well to order multiples of the tartelette topped in walnut and apricot, the melty Sheep’s cheese unfortunately suffering a similar fate as the calamari as it got lost in the balsamic and onion liberally dolloped on top.
A long day already in the books with more yet to come, imagine my shock when a made to order Americano proved better than most coffee at France’s fine dining Meccas, the custard centered Gateau Basque an equally pleasant surprise as the sizable slice was served warm with crème Anglaise for less than a 500ml bottle of mineral water’s cost.
Beet Dusted Comte, Jerusalem Artichoke in Spanish Spices, Foie Gras Tart
Cornbread, Olive Baton, White Wine Raisin Bread with Salted and Unsalted Butter
“Jamon et Beurre”
Foie Gras from the Landes – Roasted and smoked in Bergamot, Tuberous Creamy Chervil, Ice Cold Salsify, Duck Jus perfumed with Buddha’s Hand
Scallops with Goose Barnacles, Carrots, Squash, Passion Fruit Puree
Suckling Pig with Quinoa, Rutabaga, Truffles and Mushrooms
Saint Nectaire Tart – Cashew Crust, Poached Pear Sorbet
Coconut Cream, Pineapple, Apple, Pear Sorbet
Crunchy Biscuit with Kalamansi – Burned Coffee and Celery Stalk Sorbet
Madelines, Chocolate, Lemon, Nuts
Canceling lunch at Joel Robuchon on the recommendation of none other than Michel Guerard who assured me that The Restaurant at Le Saint James was “a very special place,” my last meal in France was hosted in the small town of Bouliac where the a gorgeous room and resort awaited, the service every bit deserving of its Michelin Starred status while much of the food warranted two or three.
Set high on a hilltop with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a privileged vantage of the cities and towns below, the Relais & Chateaux recommended Saint-James features the culinary talents of Nicolas Magie and with a stunning pedigree plus passionate sourcing from the regions best producers a number of menus are offered to those taking a seat at the table, many steeped in resort classics while those more daring are encouraged to opt for Magie’s “Mood of the Day.”
No doubt operating on a level above that of the region’s other starred spots, the giving spirit and superlative service all the more intriguing as several staff members are students-in-training at a small school visible from the street, the meal begins long before a menu is selected and with a dry white wine joining a trio of canapes the chef’s style immediately becomes evident, complex herbs and aromatics used in delicious and innovative ways.
Taking pride in resources, the purveyors proudly presented on the menu in a very “American” way, bread from a local artisan Boulangerie is served alongside salted and unsalted cow’s butter, the corn and olive versions setting a high standard that the sweet wine rolls pocketed with raisins still managed to surpass.
Happily saucing all savories following the amuse tableside, a whimsical take on the ham and butter sandwich light as a cloud with a brioche antenna pointing high, the first course featured a sizable slice of liver smoked and seared with bergamot, its creaminess mirrored by the vegetal medley next to it while a broth of duck jus accented in citrus helped adjoin each to a compote of apple and onion above.
At times taking inspiration from the a la carte menu, but otherwise working on well trained whims, course two offered a daily take on Saint-Jacques, each buttery jewel as sweet as can be expected while briny barnacles proved a perfect counterpart to passionfruit atop an autumnal puree as smooth as silk.
Inquiring as to whether seafood or meat struck my fancy as a finale, the latter suggested as something special from the market that day, it is difficult to determine whether the cube of suckling pig was sous-vide or confit given considering how supple was the texture, but suffice it to say that it is hard to name a better piece of pork in recent memory with umami magnified significantly by the textures of mushroom and rutabaga all around.
Pleasantly surprised by a plated cheese course that saw Saint Nectaire mousse married to pears with a rim of toasty nuts, the palate was cleansed by an elegant sorbet before moving onward, the flavors of lime and coffee somehow finding themselves together as dance partners alongside lightly sweetened celery sorbet.
Served in just under two hours, the pace of the meal leisurely though certainly never dull, it was with mini-Madelines made for dipping that the dining itself concluded, a tour of the property offered by the Maitre d’ of whom both M. Guerard and the and his counterpart at Les Pres d’Eugenie had spoken very highly of.
Happily sated at La Boulangerie, but with a long drive back to Bilbao due after lunch, it was to Jocteur that the GPS was pointed to gather provisions, a pleasant staff fluent in English guiding me to an eight-part order that turned out to be unequivocally great.
Long and narrow like a shotgun, the pastries glistening up front as small tables lined the walkway to a bakery in back, Jocteur is parenthetically noted as Le Boulanger de l’Hotel de Ville and with a location near Le Musee des Beaux Arts and opening hours till 20h00 the options run the gamut from viennoisier to tartines and sandwiches, the baking ongoing with new items yielded throughout the day.
Taking a pass on savories, the brie + walnut + fig jam tartine admittedly tempting me to order more, it was instead in a butter croissant with soft arches that first bites were invested, the air pocketed interior as light as a feather with yeasty notes dissolving early and a finish that was pleasantly sweet.
Having not seen Pralines Roses since leaving Lyon, the sugar coated nuts a regional specialty to the North, it was with great surprise that Jocteur offered several items featuring the pink candies and although a small cupcake was difficult to yield from wax paper the toothsome texture was a great compliment to the crunchy exposed surface, a similar balance noted in a “gallette” that ate more like brioche.
Turning next to choux, the pastry cream-filled puff still structurally sound even after a four hour journey Southwest, those who fancy eclairs are encouraged to visit l’Hotel de Ville’s Boulanger for the bitter-sweet espresso version, each bite breaking from crisp to soft to creamy with coffee flavor quite pronounced.
Finding the dark-chocolate studded brioche every bit as soft and eggy as the praline version from before it was with some regret that I’d waited so long to taste both the almond rich financier and pistachio laced Parisienne, both so good that another day in Bordeaux would have seen me return to order more.
Told by an elderly local the day prior that Bordeaux’s best pastry was an rustic tart sold at a place simply known as La Boulangerie near Basilique Saint-Michel it was with breakfast plans slightly altered that the small shop on Rue des Faures was visited, the smell of wood ovens perceivable at a distance while yeasty notes drifted lazily in the air.
Certainly more obvious in its placement than other bakeries, the open square surrounding the church dotted with several cafes and stores, my 7h30 arrival found a small queue snaking to the sliding glass door and stepping aside to let locals pass as I perused the options the temptations proved quite copious, my eventual order featuring a half dozen standouts plus one dud.
Always benefited by an early morning, four of the selections still warm to the touch, it was with a slightly dense core that the croissant was presented, yet but with ample notes of butter the flavor was on point while the citrusy madeline featured execution so perfect that it would have made Alain Ducasse blush and Proust weak in the knees.
Not offering an almond croissant, the sugar topped Jesuite a poor stand-in as frangipane had melted through the base leaving the rectangular object dry and dense, a return to form was found in two golden coils wound tightly around fruit, nuts, and chocolate, the bright red version delightfully bracing in its sourness while the neon green escargot wad expectedly quite rich.
Hopeful that the best had been saved for last, though neither the tart nor canele were amongst the options purchased hot, bites of the latter found the exterior amongst the most crunchy tasted to date and although the custard was more firm than some may think appropriate the taste was still textbook, the mellow vanilla a perfect segue to object that I’d come for, each bite finding the sweetness of roast apples married to toasted pecans by a flaky charred crust.
Raspberry Marshmallow, Financier, Pistachio Opera, Mint Loli
Whte Chocolate and Kiwi Tart
No stranger to multiple tasting menus in a single day, the late dinner hours of Europe even more conducive to such things than back home in the United States, it was entirely the result of a misprint on the agenda that saw me arrive at Restaurant La Cape in the middle of Staff Meal, a gracious Maitre d’ informing me that dinner service did not begin for an hour, the surrounding area unfortunately not much fun at 19h30 on a Monday evening.
More than once receiving a Michelin Star, Chef Thomas Brasleret’s minimalist space decidedly contrasting the innovative ingredient pairings put forth on the plate, Restaurant La Cape is located on a side streetin the town of Cenon and delineated by white on white letters a greeting adjacent the glass wine cabinet is followed swiftly by seating, no bar present at which to order an aperitif.
Featuring a la carte options in addition to prix-fixe and carte blanche it was with one specific request that the latter was requested, a five course menu converted to eight by way of canape, amuse, and mignardises with apricot proving the best Alain Milliat nectar sampled to date plus a warm loaf of sourdough and mushroom infused butter that was liberally spread.
Starting off with a briny cracker dressed in herbal aromatics and crispy bits of pig’s foot before moving on to a soup that boldly presented bitterness amidst the flavors of scallop and naturally sweet tomato gel, the proper menu began with a slate a starkly as the building itself, a trio of poached oysters featuring all the expected seawater sapor while textures of coconut and cauliflower added nuance, the plate actually quite elegant if not particularly consisting of ingredients that I crave.
Next presenting scallops a second time, an odd choice given the range of items offered a la carte that night, course two saw the tender rounds presented with Jerusalem Artichoke cream and a puree of poached rhubarb, the intrigue dialed up by pomegranate paste and kernels of fruit though the sear on the bivalve seemed to have gone a bit too far.
Ignoring my fatigue for passionfruit, a desire to see Brasleret’s take on sweetbreads as I’ve never had a bad one in France, it was with good fortune that the crispy fried slices were of the richer variety considering the potency of the accoutrements, the yellow spherification set aside until the end with flavors of vanilla and salsify well pared to the characteristic gaminess of the gland.
Using a foamy fruit cup with buttery notes of cheese as a transition to dessert it was with mignardises on the table that the final plate arrived, and confirming once again that the Chef’s palate varies substantially from this diner I tried as best as possible to enjoy a tart of kiwi, the cloying flavor of the fruit finding some balance in white chocolate, though not enough for me.
One of several locations in a growing chain of patisseries known predominantly for their copper molded caneles, it was late afternoon when a visit was made to La Toque Cuivree in Le Bouscat, the custard cakes even better than those at Baillardran with a tariff far less steep.
Far more modest than the boutique from a night before, simple glass cases containing the goods with a large baking area tucked in back, service at La Toque Cuivree was no less pleasant than the young woman at Baillardran and with a few full sized cakes offered in addition to Bordeaux’s signature pastry the total cost of my order was still just under €10, a sizable Gateau Basque joining the sort of “six pack” of which those of us living in American can only dream.
Requesting the freshest canele possible, all six plucked from a cooling rack instead of from the case, it was immediately on returning to the car that first bites were taken and with interiors still warm while the golden shell offered a soft crackle the results were across-the-board excellent, a light tinge of rum rising on the palate just as the sweetness began to dissipate.
Savoring the first before inhaling two more, the rest saved for later and nearly as good even after they’d been allowed to cool, there was obviously no way that a whole Gateau Basque was going to be finished by just one person during a day featuring two Michelin Starred meals plus breakfast and chocolates, yet try as I might to resist the soft notes of butter cake atop pastry cream proved quite compelling, more than two-thirds eaten before the rest was repackaged and placed in the trunk…out of sight, though certainly not out of mind.
Pomme Rotie au Four, Palet Croustillant de Pop Corn
Crispy and Americano
Said by some to meld the style of Alain Ducasse to a Basque heritage with an ethos similar to Michel Guerard as relates to ingredient sourcing, Vivien Durand was essentially hand selected from his small Michelin Starred kitchen to take the reins at the newly renovated kitchen of Le Chateau du Prince Noir in Lormont, and although shaky service almost saw me walk out as the whole staff fawned over a single six-top in favor of everyone else the cuisine put forth from the kitchen was absolutely exquisite, easily out-performing the modest mid-day cost.
Set alongside a highway, though noise is completely absent within the sunbathed confines of a space overlooking parts of a modern art collection owned by the new inhabitant of the 19th century chateau Le Prince Noir marries formal touches to brilliant whites with splashes of color, the meal unfolding slowly as a la carte options tempt alongside several tasting menus ranging from carte-blanche to a €31 prix-fixe that varies by day.
Establishing expectations after a nearly twenty-five minute wait without so much as water or bread, my server beckoning me back just seconds before I walked out the door, it was not long after sitting down a second time that an order was taken, offers of a complimentary glass of wine refused though no charge appeared on the final bill for a bottle Pear Nectar that was selected.
From this point forth treated like a VIP, the plate presentations thorough and portions generous as sounds from Led Zeppelin and The Cranberries occasionally were emitted from a kitchen where chefs seemed at ease, lunch began with a tableside presentation of ham atop a crisp and creamy cheese mousse bolstered by balsamic with a Parmesan garnish, the canapes continued in a quartet generally reserved for the tasting menu, the earthy beet stack and boldly flavored mackerel in paprika both well appreciated gifts.
Moving onto the lunch prix-fixe proper after a warm pair of breads was presented with one of the most grassy and complex butters ever to grace my tongue, it seemed almost too good to be true that three of my favorite ingredients somehow found themselves incorporated into one single course, and with the butternut potage poured tableside over unctuous liver and a gently poached egg the flavor profile was everything expected and then some, undoubtedly one of the best bites during my three days in France.
Continuing a trend of traditional flavors elegantly presented with a twist, course two offered a breast of hen served over linear handmade macaroni and although indeed ‘chicken; this bird was anything but boring, a significant amount of herb brining lending both moisture and flavor while the lightly browned Gruyere and Comte made me wish for a whole bowl of pasta plus more bread to sop up the pan sauce.
Adding on a supplement from the a la carte “signatures du Prince Noir,” a slice of Lievre a la Royale topped in traditional sauce fortified by a jugged hare alongside celery baked in salt, those interested in the dish would be well advised to bring a friend – or perhaps a party – to share in the plentiful classic, each bite rich yet well balanced but nonetheless exceedingly heavy all by itself, let alone in addition to the prix-fixe.
Regrettably passing on cheeses, the previous savories all exceedingly rich, it was admittedly a bit abrupt that dessert was presented without any sort of palate cleanser, the tart tatin draped in apples with sorbet and flavors of popcorn as delicious as it was beautiful, a single malty cookie ending the meal along with an Americano before settling the tab and heading to the gardens open to the public where those with a passion for sculpture are bound to be pleased.
Located not far from a culinary arts center as well as several stores selling artisan goods both edible and not, those unaware of Bordeaux’s bakeries may pass right by the bright red building housing La Fabrique Pains et Bricoles, but for those fortunate enough to enter inside the aroma of burning wood and yeast is but the first of many rewards, the quality of each item tasted setting a standard unrivaled by anywhere else in the city.
Focused on old-world technique, the selection of breads varying by day along with a collection of pastries and viennoiserie, it was largely a matter of planning and favorable traffic that saw me arrive just after doors opened at 8am on Monday when bakers were still present, and with most options still warm the question of how much to order was largely that of preferences alongside those of capacity.
Undoubtedly a place where anything but a “one of each” order will see desirable items left behind, the prices shockingly low with a total bill of just €10.45 for seven selections akin to robbing the place, it was in a chilly Place Camille Jullian that I sat to partake, first bites of the airy croissant awash with butter as golden flakes fluttered away in the stiff breeze.
Taking a unique approach to presentation, the apple ‘tart’ a delicate finger of stewed fruit between layers of buttery cake with a toothsome texture while the financier was a smooth orb dusted with powdered sugar atop rich nutty notes, those fancying clafoutis should make an early morning visit to La Fabrique Pains et Bricoles a top priority, the version offered in late November a creamy masterpiece with raw sections of citrus and stonefruit on top and cooked bits at the still steaming center.
Turning to classics at the end, a Madeline with light lemon as good as any straight from the pan, it should seem obvious that when in Bordeaux the canele is nothing short of mandatory, this version as good as any found outside the restaurant setting while the flawless Gateau Basque was a hearty way to finish, the double layered shell rich with almond flour around a pastry cream center.
