The 3-star Michelin restaurant Mugaritz (rated 3rd in the Top Fifty
Restaurants of the World) is high up in hills of Errenteria, Spain
twenty minutes outside of San Sebastian. It is surprisingly easy to get
to if you are an expert in Himalayan climbs, hairpin turns, and fluent
in the basque language called Euskara. After you arrive at this
culinary mecca, you remove your crampons, ice axe, and Formula One
racing helmet, and are ushered into their gorgeous kitchen sanctum. A
sparkling cava (Copa Cava Opus Evolutium Ad Private) is given to you to
sip. A discussion is then held between you and the various friendly
alchemists who will be cooking your meal regarding the philosophical
underpinnings of that evening's dishes.
You are taken to your table. A glass of Ossian 2008 white wine is poured. A single small potato (called "Edible Stones" on the menu) that has been cooked in an edible clay shell sits on top of heated gravel. You bite into it hoping your dental insurance has been squared away and realize that it is soft and what you always hoped a potato could be, what any food could be. You dip it into an aiolli sauce and realize that if you only went to Spain for this one potato it would have been enough, more than enough, maybe even too much.
I was recently in Spain for Madrid Fusion, one of Spain's biggest gastro-festivals that included a “who’s who” of culinary heavyweights from Spain and elsewhere, including Ferran Adrià (who announced his two-year sabbatical from his famed El Bulli restaurant), Sergi Arola, Grant Achatz, Alain Ducasse, Cheong Liew and Mark Best.
