One of the bastions of Basque/Spanish avant garde cuisine, too many accolades to recount, and the sort of reputation for obsessive attention to detail that makes you worry that you might not be an adequate customer. No worries; they make it clear that they are happy to welcome you, and set you at ease right away. The quick supply of an aperitif and the relaxing setting, as well as their apparent sincerity, set the mood for fun and adventure. We had both, and some stonking good food as well, of course.

We were informed that the night’s menu was to consist of 20 courses, the first parcel of which (5 or so) were meant to be eaten solely with one’s hands. Since we had lovely seats on the outside patio and very agreeable weather, the notion of hand food and cava suited us nicely, and was quite a departure from what one might expect from such an establishment. We were asked two important questions to begin: did we have any food allergies and/or aversions, and whether we wanted to know the menu in advance. We answered both in the negative. And I’m glad we selected that approach. I’ll provide photos for each course, but won’t describe most of them in great detail here (I’m on vacation, you know.)

The “outdoor” courses; the stand out for me was the anemone course. Just a few days ago I mentioned that geoduck was the sole remaining weird seafood for us – nope, as apparently certain anemone are edible (and delicious, much like sea urchin). Laura’s favorite, and certainly the most forehead-smacking dishes of the starters, was the tempura-fried oregano blossom. Simple, transformative, completely new and delicious.

Flax and wheat “Kraft” paper with marine accents

Oregano tempura

“Fishbones” with nuances of lemon, garlic and cayenne pepper

Marine chords of a crispy woodwind (staring sea anemone)

Grilled toast of bone marrow with herbs and horseradish ash

Then we moved inside, moved on to a 2009 Penedes called Electio, and our more formal table setting, though with enough space and energy in the room to encourage full, open conversation (which may have occasionally touched upon what others were eating – each table is not served the same 20 courses). Service was consistently attentive, respectfully but never overbearing – quite an accomplishment when the staff outnumbers the guests. I’ll provide photos of each of our courses, but comment on just a few.

The wine was poured, the hands were cleansed, and we were ready for whatever was to come.

Slices of foie gras cured in clay and peppercorns; bath of apple extract.

Tomato “Provençal”

A quick trip to the kitchen for an introduction to the night’s chef de cuisine and a few of the folks on the line, as well as one of the most remarkable dishes of the night (not pictured) – a blood macaroon with a blue cheese filling. Remember when they asked about food allergies and aversions? Let’s just say that they double-checked before springing this surprise. The cookie was essentially an Italian merengue using fresh blood in place of egg white, and blue cheese where a sweet filling might otherwise have been. I don’t know how many sous chefs bled into a standing mixer before they realized that they could achieve the same consistency with blood as they could with egg white, but it was quite a treat.

Back to our table to contemplate the lesson imparted: that ancient food stuffs could be treated in modern ways to yield products that were familiar at first impression but completely new, and that we had much left to explore. Back to the tasting.

Artichoke and Iberian ham “tatin” with clam chantilly

Hazelnut and bean stew (with a confectionary “mother of pearl”)

Ravioli of aromatic vegetables. This dish went on and on and on, in a very clean, fresh, aromatic and savory way. Deceptively simple, but unlike anything before it in execution.

Roasted loin of hake with clashing grains of aged mascarpone, cauliflower and fresh almonds. Possibly Laura’s favorite dish.

Coastal fish with crunchy trimmings of aged sourdough and sweet pickled onion. A dish so good, it was half eaten before I remembered to photograph it. The messy presentation is my fault alone.

“Bonding…” toasted seeds and spices served in a mortar and vegetable broth. This was certainly the most memorable dish of the night. Imagine a restaurant full of metal-on-metal clanging, laughter and loud, excited chatter – you likely aren’t picturing a “fancy” restaurant in a pastoral setting – yet here we are, every guest forced (asked) to grind his or her own toasted seeds and nuts to create the base for a soup. First confusion, then polite tapping and finally seed-crushing cacophony. The communal aspect of it brings the experience of all the diners together, and the festive clatter amuses the waitstaff who cajole those who may be too shy in their approach to the pestle. It is completely disarming, this campy audience participation, and a minor miracle that the staff is able to coordinate the service such that each table undertakes this chore simultaneously. The final product was good, too.

Crispy and tender sweetbread with slices of “brassica,” bitter leaves and artisan praline

Breast of guinea fowl with lobster emulsion and its roasted skin. This was probably the only “not-excellent” dish, though I did very much like the refined take on chicharones.

Light dices of sculpted apple with figs; crunchy dark chocolate and mint. Like apple pie deconstructed, this was really wonderful.

Small bite of milky wafer with lemon ice cream

“Traditional” almond fairy cake

Vanilla-fern. Essentially, a vanilla “bean” made from local herbs and served with a luscious chocolate. The Mayan word for “black flower” appears on the plate.

Candies of frankincense; perfume of eucalyptus bark. Complete with a few glowing embers to ensure a nice atmosphere.

Finally, something to amuse ourselves with while waiting for the check to arrive: truffle of hazelnut.