Family of One Has a Top Ten Meal

As promised, I want to tell you about the most wonderful meal that I had on my trip to Spain. In the next few days, I'll share with you the runner-up meals, but this one has such a special patina that I decided to lead with it.

I had been told to try Sergi Arola's restaurants and so I made reservations at his restaurant at the Arts Hotel in Barcelona and at what appeared to be a casual restaurant at the Reina Sofia Museum in Madrid. Because I had so many other high-maintenance reservations, I decided that would be enough of his cuisine.

On Monday, November 9, knowing that it was a national holiday, I scampered over to the Reina Sofia Museum to see Guernica and to have a delightful lunch. I had checked the guidebook and it said that the museum was open on Mondays, even holidays. When I arrived, it was closed up tighter than Dick's hatband (a favorite expression of Mother's which I don't completely understand). I was not particularly disappointed as I was a bit jetlagged and the thought of a long nap on the Heavenly Bed was fine, especially since I had recently partaken of the enormous buffet at the Westin Palace dining room. I decided to stop for a Coke Zero and a can of Pringles and climb into bed with my book. I had seen about as much of Madrid as I wanted to and it was a cloudy, gray day.

Returning to my room, I put on my Queen Bee pajamas and flung myself across the bed. I decided to look over my restaurant reservations for Barcelona and, as I was doing so, I noticed that the reservation that day for Arola was not at the Reina Sofia, but on a street whose name I did not recognize. I realized that American Express must have made the reservation at one of the "real" restaurants. Cuss a rutabaga, I said to myself. I should probably go down and tell the concierge to call and apologize for my not cancelling the reservation which was for 1:00 and it was now 2:30. I placed on my casual walking clothes and went to the concierge.

As soon as they saw me approaching, there was much consternation. "Where have you been? They are looking for you to be at Arola", they screamed. I explained what had happened. They got on the phone with the restaurant and much high-pitched Spanish ensued. They looked at me and nodded, "Yes, she will be there in ten minutes". They hung up and said, "they only have a few reservations today because it is a holiday and they are getting ready to close and we told them to hold the restaurant open for you". I was aghast. "Oh, that is not necessary", I said, "I will be OK going another time". "No, you must go today. There is to be no more discussion. We need to get you into a cab".

I am most happy when I know where I am going. I don't think that I am alone in this preference. I had absolutely no idea where the cab was going. I only knew that I had over 200 euros, so I should have enough to cover it. I called my beloved K from the cab and said, "do you think this is going to be OK?" She screamed with excitement and said, "you are having a surprise meal--how incredibly fun--enjoy every second". And, it's true. When you are traveling by yourself, you always know where you going to eat, so it is very unusual to have a meal for which you have no advance knowledge.

The taxi drove down several beautiful tree-lined streets and suddenly pulled up at a restaurant in a very posh district. The most handsome man was standing in the street waiting--for me, it turned out. He was anxiously looking from side to side and smiled happily when he saw me. He ran over to open the door and said, "we must get you into the restaurant". I apologized profusely for causing him to stay open and he said, "not another word, just relax and enjoy yourself. You will be the only person in the restaurant".

Well, that wasn't exactly the case as I entered a long, narrow room decorated very sparsely, but in an attractive contemporary style. I was seated on a banquette towards the back, about four tables away from a couple who was finishing up their meal.

The treats immediately begin arriving--cod fritters, Catalonian olives, tiny potatoes with a tiny bit of potato foam. There was a lovely glass of wine.

I was treated respectfully, but with alacrity. I could barely process what was happening, but I knew it was wonderful.

My first course was chestnut cream soup with sweet potato puree and bacon ice cream. Incredible.

The server asked me if I liked mushrooms and I assured her that I did. She said, "the chef has some extras from today and he would like to make them for you". I was served the most tasty range of mushrooms--delicate, earthy, chewy, smooth--in an incredible sauce that did not overwhelm the mushrooms.

It was about this time that I got just a little perspective on what was happening. Do you know that feeling when you suddenly find yourself with the opportunity to have incredible, passionate sex either with a stranger or your partner? You want to have that moment forever--the desire, the anticipation, the sensuality--but, you can't hold on to it for too long because real life will intrude and ruin the moment. That is how I felt--like I was being swept off my feet by one of the most magical meals that I would ever have. Part of me wanted to weep at the fact that I did not have hours to enjoy this experience, but the practical side of me knew to savor and enjoy every second, every moment. Because these folks wanted to get the hell out of there and enjoy their holiday, so I had to be considerate of that.

I could see into the kitchen and there was no one there except for a lone female chef and a fellow mopping the floor. She was literally cooking this meal for me. The other patrons had left. It was the most empowering, humbling, hedonistic sensation to be alone in that restaurant.

Next up was one of my favorite fish that I always order on my European adventures, red mullet served with cucumber and what I can only decipher as cream of flores in my rushed handwriting. Lovely. Simple. Perfect. It was accompanied by one of the most interesting taste sensations ever--perfect tiny Kenyan green beans with peach sorbet. I wonder if I could duplicate that in the triplex kitchen? Probably better not to try.

The dessert is one that I will remember forever--the taste, the texture, the temperature, the saltiness, the sweetness--coconut curry souffle.

The lovely staff started bringing out the petits fours, the macaroons, etc. I said (even as it broke my heart to have to leave this enchanted vacuum), "please just pack those for me so that you can go and enjoy your holiday".

Thank goodness I know that I can return to this restaurant so that I can have a more leisurely experience. But something tells me that no return visit will every duplicate the intensity, the excitement, the joy of this unexpected gastronomic adventure.