What makes a dining experience the meal of a lifetime? And how do you know when you’ve had it? What yardstick can possibly measure something that amorphous? These questions run through my head anytime I get a chance to indulge in extraordinary cooking and unparalleled service at a restaurant of Michelin-star transcendence.
As I established in my June 21st intro column, I'm an active gastro-tourist. Over the years, I've traveled many miles to be pampered, tasting brilliant food from the world's greatest kitchens. That's what makes my extended stay in Basque country this fall so special and unexpected. Even now, with some weeks to reflect, I’m happy to report on the meal I had at Arzak in San Sebastián, Spain — which I can only describe as the meal of my life.
Perhaps because I'm a serious wine drinker and there's a method to sensory evaluation used by tasters that I've learned over time, I also tend to apply these elements when I'm turning a critical eye toward food.
You use your senses of sight, smell, and taste in combination; first to evaluate color and aroma. Next, when you take a sip or a bite, there's an initial taste impression on the tip of your tongue. Flavors then move to the mid-palate and develop. Great food and wine fill your mouth with ever-expanding layers of flavor like an explosion. When the wine/food reaches the back of your mouth, and you swallow, flavors make one final impression on the “finish.” Ordinary wines die, but great ones linger for minutes and may even continue to evolve. Great food makes similar impressions as your head spins.
As an old friend and I arrive at Arzak — it’s housed in a four-story 1897 building with a hip industrial interior of concrete, metal and glass that somehow feels warm and inviting — we are met with a flute of high-end cava, Spain's version of Champagne.
Then, HE appears.
Juan Mari Arzak, now a spry 70-year-old, is one of the world's most esteemed chefs, godfather of new Basque cuisine, and the holder of three Michelin stars since 1989. His genuine warmth and hospitality fill the room. As an only child, he admits to being a “rascal,” which is, even now, part of his charm. He’s alive with childlike enthusiasm and lights up when he speaks of his daughter and partner, Elena, now the fourth-generation Arzak serving the public on this site. Elena was named the world’s best female chef at this year’s prestigious Restaurant Magazine awards, which last year honored Juan Mari for Lifetime Achievement. Not bad.
Arzak turns us loose with his longtime sous chef, Igor Zalakain, for a complete building tour. After a glimpse of the chef’s table and the line chefs hard at work, we ascend the stairs to the 100,000-bottle bodega — the sleek climate-controlled wine cellar built around the original rustic 19th-century timbers. Then we’re up to the next floor where the Arzak team develops new dishes in their ongoing commitment to produce an ever-evolving, research-based, cutting-edge, signature Basque cuisine. Longtime team member Xabi Gutiérrez conducts experiments in a cooking lab adjacent to the "idea bank" where 1,600 flavors — scents, spices, herbs, oils, powders, and seeds from around the globe — are catalogued. Great chefs source impeccable ingredients and then add complementary flavors to build memorable dishes where the synchronicity of taste is greater than the individual parts. Arzak showcases flavor without pretension, melding rustic, Basque regional tradition seamlessly with the most advanced modern and creative techniques.
Central to Arzak’s cuisine, and to all great food, is balance — a crucial focus while tasting. Looking back to wine as a touchstone, it's about juggling fruit, tannin, and acidity. Some wines are fruit bombs; they may initially seem lush, but overwhelm your taste buds because they lack the acidity to cleanse your palate. Long-aging wines have a "pucker factor" that comes from tannin in the seeds and stems, but softens over time. At that magic moment when the fruit mellows and the tannins soften, great wines display layers of flavor that build to a crescendo that fills your mouth. Food not only has texture and temperature, but flavors that wake up your taste buds of sweet, sour, bitter, salty and umami (a savory meatiness). Not all dishes hit on each of the five tastes, but a chef must always consider how each element of a dish adds to the final impression and make sure that the dish reflects proper ratios to make the flavors sing. And this is what Arzak’s flavor-based research lab is about.
As we finish our tour and head to the table in the intimate dining room, Juan Mari is working the room like an expert politician. He joins the maître d' at our table, welcomes us again to his “home,” and with a nod of his head, the adventure proceeds.
Our meal commences with a cavalcade of five small dishes. Wafer-thin slices of crisp “potato chip-like” coconut on tiny skewers hovering like sails above bright golden sweet-tart cape gooseberry boats, seemingly afloat in a dry ice cloud; lush bites of local scorpion fish pudding wrapped in kataifi (golden, shredded phyllo dough); a tiny sliver of fatty chorizo paired with a small compressed watermelon cube in a bracing tonic pool atop an inverted, crushed Schweppes can (LOL!); crisp sunflower seed brittle atop Basque arraitxiki (sea bream) mousse; and finally, underneath a colorful chiffonade of edible flowers reminiscent of fall leaves, dense sweet corn pudding with fresh fig that yields to a creamy morsel of morcilla (blood sausage). This thrilling mix of colors, textures, and flavors is uniformly delicious and quickens my pulse in anticipation of treats to come.
The first surprise treat comes from the sommelier, who chooses Ossian 2009 to match our early courses. This wine is a revelation — made from old vines, pre-phylloxera Verdejo grapes, organically grown in the higher elevations of Rueda, fermented and aged in oak barrels. It has seductive aromas and, more importantly, on the palate it complements each of the starters and the dishes to follow in surprising ways. What a chameleon! It enhances each bite of these extremely diverse courses like no wine I've ever known. Note to self: find a U.S. distributor and get a case NOW.
Next comes a crisp, and unexpected, cromlech (a Stonehenge-esqe obelisk) filled with warm, caramelized onions and foie gras, then lightly dusted with coffee and green tea powders. The two-tone outer shell is made from twice-fried tapioca flour and huitlacoche, a truffle-like corn fungus that I’ve only previously had in Mexico City. Figuring out how to eat this is a conundrum. Step one: Slide a fish spoon underneath and invert the cromlech to munch it like an ice cream cone. Step two: Revel in the surprise of total scrumptiousness.
Perfectly cooked, succulent chunks of lobster tail and claw are dotted with intense, brilliant orange lobster oil and served with a trio of peppery hemp's mustard leaves floating on bright yellow cumin aioli. Sesame brittle (and micro greens) balance sweetness with crunch, and two diminutive lobster coral clothespins wittily mimic claws to complete the plate. WOW! The dish is accompanied by a tiny bowl of micro greens dressed with tapioca pearls and citrus.
The pacing of the meal is relaxed, but practiced. Dishes come and go effortlessly. There is time to reflect on the multi-sensory dishes you've finished and just enough space to anticipate how the next delectable morsels from this wonder of a kitchen will excite your senses and your mind. What tricks will the team devise to elevate the next course? Will it be humorous, visually pleasing, and/or texturally stimulating? In any case, you're sure it will be absolutely delectable.
One of the great luxuries of the modernist “sous vide” cooking technique is the ability to poach an egg in its shell at a low, but exact temperature (147°F) for an extended period (one hour). The eggs are perfect every time and can’t be overcooked. Arzak serves a low-temp ultra-fresh local egg capped with a gel disc of mussel flavored by pimentón (smoky Spanish paprika). Lying atop the egg is a flat, flash-fried vermicelli cracker, green with spinach and parsley powders, dotted with black & white sesame. Next to it on the plate is a single poached mussel topped with an astounding rainbow of julienned flowers. The dazzling deep orange yolk is a luscious sauce that melds the variety of tastes and textures into a harmonious whole.
We are already reeling from sensory overload, when our server places an iPad-like tablet on the table playing a mesmerizing video of waves breaking against a huge boulder on the beach. WTF?? Our server then arrives with the next “plate” — a glistening sheet of translucent, legged glass that fits perfectly over the tablet with a clear center window that reveals the crashing waves under a perfect fillet of delectable white Bonito tuna, an artful smear of fig sauce, and small wedges of prickly pear. This dish is like nothing I've experienced, and even after eating/viewing it, I sit silently at the table — at a rare loss for words. For a few moments with my eyes closed, I “listen” to the imaginary sound of waves sloshing around my brain.
I return to reality, a Remírez de Ganuza Rioja Reserva 2005 arrives at the table in anticipation of some heavier dishes to come. The dark fruit and earthy flavors of this unfiltered, old vine Tempranillo are lip-smackingly good.
As we progress to the meat courses, we each get beautiful plates proving my contention that heavenly restaurants have access to ingredients not available to mere mortals. Both the perfectly grilled squab and lamb fillet are as tender, juicy and flavorful as any meat I have ever eaten. Our plates are garnished with colorful flowers; the squab dish is painted with anthocyanins, naturally occurring vegetable and fruit pigments. The superb piece of Basque lamb topped with sweet red wine jelly features a garnish of potato “corks” colored with parsley and pimentón and a mini-army of tender turnip, carrot, and compressed watermelon sticks standing at attention. Again we are wowed by how all the flavors sing.
The dessert array begins with playing marbles — crunchy malt balls filled with oozy chocolate ganache on a bed of popped sesame with a disc of dark chocolate and a subtle, oregano-laced white chocolate sauce that is as sublime as it is unforeseen.
One of the great sweet surprises is a green herb-tinged white chocolate ravioli stuffed with creamy chocolate mint that's flanked with hazelnut liqueur spheres that explode in your mouth; it’s all topped with a sprinkling of crunchy puffed rice.
The ever-attendant sommelier, seeking to end our meal in style, pours glasses of Gonzales Byass Del Duque Jerez Amontillado Muy Viejo NV, a rich and distinctive 30-year-old sherry that, while medium-bodied, is intense and complex.
As if to gild the lily, each dessert course is accompanied by a small porcelain square filled with luscious ice cream, taking us on a flavor journey to gooseberry, chocolate mint, passion fruit and coconut. What can possibly top this?
Our server first places a flat rectangular "plate," with a colorful close-up garden image full of flowers and leaves, on the table. What’s coming next? Before we can even posit an answer, a clear glass topper with a "golden footprint and ladybugs" is before us with a flourish. A thin dark chocolate foot-shaped silhouette topped with gold leaf tread sits on a narrow slab of ripe, fresh fig and juicy citrus that "steps" on a trail of honey-laced sugar crystals. Two piquillo pepper gel ladybugs filled with sweet, liquid vanilla yogurt dot the landscape alongside nasturtium petals, fragrant green mint, and two tiny custard pools. The image is striking, the flavors are thrilling, and we finally accept that surprise rules the day.
An airy beetroot cake, resembling a pumice stone, is covered with crunchy, candied pistachios and garnished with an "X" of sweet beet syrup and a party-like sprinkling of colorful floral "confetti." The favors are pure, but the variety of textures and colors catches me off-guard. Finally, after a rapturous three hours, our flavor-tsunami degustation is, sadly, winding down.
For coffee and mignardises, we're invited to move to Arzak's chic reception area dominated by a huge, glowing scarlet "A" worthy of Nathaniel Hawthorne, to await a post-meal audience with Juan Mari. As we sink into the comfy leather sofa, a server swoops in with a shiny piece of sheet metal bent at a right angle, hand-labeled "Ferreteria (hardware) Arzak." The "hardware" is a witty mix of sweetmeats: chocolate nuts, bolts, and keys of differing flavors plus liquid-filled, Coca-Cola flavored edible “bottle caps” topped with pop rocks. And thus, it ends.
So the food blew us away, but the meal of a lifetime must also have attentive service at the highest level. World-class restaurants aim to elevate a table’s mood in different ways, reflecting each restaurant’s unique personality. At Arzak, it begins with a welcoming embrace. While the interior has a slightly austere, modern feel to it, the impeccable service is made up of pampering, middle-aged women in plain, gray and black outfits; it’s as if you were being served this fabulous meal by your favorite aunt or a family member who anticipates your every need, and delivers it in a seamless, understated manner. Crusty bread and cool water silently appear; dishes come and go with choreographed discipline.
As perfect as Arzak is, it’s illustrative to point out why the very finest table service in my experience was at another visit on this trip — to one of Juan Mari's acolytes, Martin Beresatagui's eponymous Michelin three-starred restaurant in the hills outside of San Sebastián. There, the service corps is a virtual army of handsome young Calvin Klein gastrobots in stylish, matching grey suits and ties. As they patrol the restaurant looking like a study in multi-cultural ethnicity, absolutely no detail goes unnoticed and all courses arrive and leave the table with a precise, seemingly effortless unison that betrays a highly drilled and confident staff. But let me share a rare exchange that blew my mind, one that is unique in my experience as a gastronaut, and that serves to highlight the apex of great service.
"Pardon me, sir. Did I notice correctly that you are left-handed?" Are you kidding me? I’m so taken by surprise at this keen observation, that I can barely manage an affirmative nod even as every key utensil is now placed in reach of my dominant hand. I so want to add, "Thank you for noticing; please ignore my gratuitous twitching and what may look like my eyes rolling back into my head. Not to worry, it's just my body's unconscious reaction to gastronomic ecstasy." Dinner with Martin Berasategui is another "peak experience" as any Michelin-starred meal should be.
But something about the whole Arzak gastronomic parade stands out from my many breathtaking foodie memories around the globe. Independent of each other, my friend and I find ourselves unable to forget the experience. Every single moment is meticulously crafted to enrapture guests and arouse all senses at the house of Arzak. What sets this meal apart is that, even with surprises at every turn, each and every bite leaving Juan Mari and Elena’s kitchen, without exception, is visually pleasing, texturally stimulating, mentally invigorating and . . . ultimately delicious. Maybe we’re just lucky, but even at Alinea, Per Se, Alain Ducasse Paris, Le Bernardin et al, there are moments, however brief, that dip below the extraordinary. Arzak’s trajectory is . . . up, . . . up, . . . and away.
After we come back to earth on the short drive from San Sebastián into SW France to the Basque farmhouse that serves as my temporary home, I trek upstairs to process my time at Arzak and make some culinary notes. My concentration on my iPad is broken when I hear a loud, but very contented, sigh outside the window of my second-story perch. As I look out from above, there’s my friend and dining companion stretched out, face down, luxuriating in the soft grass. "Look at the sky," he commands. I turn my gaze heavenward to see hundreds of cloud puffs bunched together like a large pan of Parker house rolls. Some are white, some a pale blue-grey and a few are beginning to turn pink or orange with the afterglow of the recent sunset. "I feel like an ancient shepherd who just had sex," he contentedly moans, staring at the sky. Even though he's gay and I'm straight, I laugh out loud because I know exactly what he means; we do share the same orientation when it comes to transcendent food. Arzak is that good! Yep, it was the meal of a lifetime.
This article appears in Nov 29 – Dec 5, 2012.