Almost everyone who comes to El Bulli for dinner also makes a pilgrimage to Rafa´s. Ferran always says it´s his favourite restaurant in the world. And I finally got a chance to go for dinner last night. The first time I tried was the first night I moved down to Roses from the camp at Cala Montjoi. I was on my way over and then it started raining and I had to move all my laundry inside - two huge racks of laundry. Clothes dryers are perceived as an indulgent American luxury here. By the time that was done I missed my window at Rafa´s. The next week I tried to reserve - but that´s when I found out that if Rafa does not have fresh fish - off the boat that morning - or evening sometimes - he does not open. And another time I finally had the reservation, he had the fish, but I had to change my day off and work. So last night the stars aligned and I finally had dinner at the maestro´s. A plate of escargots - but Spanish, Costa Brava style. Whereas in France escargots are really just a vehicle for lots of very good melted butter - here, the escargots are sea snails that look like little conch shells, filled with firm meat, and chez Rafa served with a simple vinaigrette that he makes a la minute. It was the only condiment or sauce last night. Then it was the infamous espardenyes. They are a local specialty - and loved or loathed. Basically small sea cucumbers. We did two espardenyes dishes at El Bulli - one with the real deal, sliced transparently thin. The other a faux espardenyes - which was actually that crunchy, fried seaweed and rice snack. Rafa himself delivered the plate over - and looked over his shoulder to see my reaction. I´d specifically asked for them first - and I think he wanted to see how I´d receive them. Heaven. The aroma alone - they were done a la plancha - so carried smoky char. Just a plate scattered with what could be a marriage of scallops and squid - in long, thin, flat strips. I really could have done with just half the portion - which is an option because Rafa sells by weight. Normally it´s 100 grams - but you can have more or less - makes no difference to him. And the two langoustines and two gambas that followed might not sound like much - but they were such intense experiences - sucking the heads of all four was like freebasing the ocean. And I hadn´t decided earlier on my fish - it was either the monkfish - which is another Bay of Roses catch - and as ugly as a fish can get - or the San Pedro/St. Pierre/John Dory - which have huge heads here, unlike the sleek oval fish you find in France. Rafa had said he preferred the San Pedro - but that I HAD to eat the head. So he decided for me. With the last gambas brain in my mouth he delivered a beautiful San Pedro for one. Or a Chinese family of five really. Again, just done a la plancha - with crusty golden patches - breathtaking. My method for eating the St. Pierre was going for the top filet first, working through the deliciously gelatinous head, then peeling off the spine for the juicy bottom filet. I was going to skip dessert but they had an artisanal recuit - a soft, light, fresh goat´s milk cheese - with a generous pour of mountain honey. Drinks during dinner were two cervezas, and a cortado cafe post. And while I hung out by the fish case they served me up three rich slivers of their pumpkin confit coca - a cross between a puff pastry and pizza dough tart - with pine nuts on top. Between orders Rafa and I had a chance to talk - and gossip. He is an amazing man. Five tables, opens only if he has fresh fish, and whistles and sings to himself while he cooks. I was afraid that the cult hype might have affected him. It has not - not at all. I asked if I could have a picture of him at his plancha - and he invited me back into his tiny kitchen. The two cooks, he said. That was one of the greatest compliments from one of the greatest chefs that I have ever met anywhere in my life.
