12/29/2017
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| Barceloneta |
Oh, how sad the end can be, and yet, it’s not over yet! We emerge from the apartment still coughing and blowing our noses but alive and ready to experience the city. We had long planned a nice seafood meal down by the sea and had the restaurant picked out for ages (Suquet de L’Almirall). We go in at 1:00, “Do you have reservations?” they ask, but we are so early it does not seem to be a problem.
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| El Born |
The restaurant does start filling up at 2:00 and it was thronging at 3:30 when we left. We start with spinach and cuttle fish “fritters”- I wonder what is the difference between a fritter and a croquette? I wonder how they got such texture out of the spinach? Fried, but soft and like bread in the middle. They were good. The next dish was grilled artichoke, potato, onion and squid with a soft fried egg on top. They were baby squid, all soft and mushy with little eyes and they squirted black ink (as squid do). I liked the potatoes and artichokes better than the squid. I got octopus on a bed of onions for my main dish. Very simply grilled, wonderfully fresh, and cut in little rounds. Great chewy texture without being tough. The best dish was Lorena’s rice and mushrooms with lobster. They called it a “soup.” I chided her for ordering lobster: “We can get that in Canada!” “But how long since we have been in Canada and eaten lobster? Five years.” What a treat. This restaurant had a few paella type dishes on the menu, but we had been warned off the tourist paella for so long we have never ordered it. Now I can see if it’s done well – it is what all the fuss is about.
The rice itself was special – a short grain like risotto, but the Spanish version without the creamy texture. It had absorbed the sauce just the correct amount and had the perfect “give to the tooth.” They carried the dishes out in deep cast iron pans and show it to you and then put it in a dish for you to eat (another potentially schmaltzy thing that was done well). What surprised me most was the flavor of the sauce. I realized later it was a brown butter sauce with the mushrooms. It had such a deep umami taste, somewhat sweet, but rich and savory at the same time. And of course, there was the lobster. We could have been in Nova Scotia. Lorena had five utensils and worked feverishly to extract the lobster. I kept my eye on it, and once she surrendered, I swooped in with the ferocity of a gull. I love picking at the shells and sucking the claws to get the last morsel. I got my hands dirty. Then I finished off my octopus in the rice and sauce. Lorena had ordered a wonderful wine (a white Priorat). It was, as we had hoped, a meal to remember.
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| Suquet de L’Almirall |
We observe the diners around us and make up stories about their lives and relationships. I’m feeling a bit edgy about men (probably the combination of Trump, #metoo, fevered insomniac You Must Remember This podcasts on Marilyn Monroe, and the general spirit of machismo that surrounds us), so my narratives lean towards patriarchal oppression.
The wine was amazing: a white Priorat. I didn’t know there were white Priorats. Finished with Catalan crème.
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| W Hotel |
We walk again along the shore after lunch, and my attitude towards men softens watching a father empowering his daughter kicking around a soccer ball. We head up to the “W” hotel, a major icon that we’ve never been to but have seen from afar every year (well, maybe not in 1985). It’s pretty spectacular.
We find a bus that is right outside the W hotel and make our way home. It feels so good to be back outside. We have a bottle of Cava left at the apartment. Earlier, I thought we might just have to abandon it here, but now feel as though we may get it finished off before the night is out. I’m so grateful to feel healthy again. We are not 100% (our coughing is frightful!), but to have some energy, a bit of appetite and be (for the most part) shed of fever. And in Barcelona. Grateful!
K & L's Travel Blog 
Kitty strikes such a sensual tone as she describes this meal. I love that. And, Lorena, all things Trump will eventually pass. The pendulum has swung. It will pass. And the better times to come will be sweet. Perhaps soon. Come home.
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