una charla with the world's greatest chefs

On Tuesday night I had the priviledge of attending a cozy little chat between the best chefs of my town.  If I were still in Alabama, this would mean I was hanging out with my boss and our friends. However, as a resident of Donostia-San Sebastián, this means I was listening to the best chefs in the world sit around and shoot the breeze.

Juan Mari Arzak, his daughter, Pedro Subijana (Akelarre), Martin Berasategui, Andoni Luis Aduriz (Mugaritz), Iñigo Cojo (A Fuego Negro), and Eneko Atxa (Azurmendi) gathered together Tuesday night for something uniquely European, a government sponsored chat on the important values of the region (in this case, culinary).  An institutionalized intellectual conversation? These are the reasons I love it here.

The premise? Basque cooking is something special.

The explanation? There is a spirit of sharing, a culinary compendium, that began with this eldest of generations (Arzak + Subijana) and has been passed down, resulting in a richer body of culinary achievement. And if it sounds like hocus pocus, I have to admit I'm on board: you can walk into the dinkiest, dirtiest bar here and eat GOOD. I mean, WELL (that's for all my english students).

Some highlights (translated by yours truly):

pedro subijana

• "Things don't fall into your lap from the sky, they fall into your lap from hard work." 
• "People are afraid to ask questions."
• "Dont waste your time on things that will make you bitter about life."

juan mari arzak

• "I'm never going to retire." 
• "Fight for your job to be your passion."

martin berasategui

• "First be a person, then a cook."
• "Being stubborn is very important."

andoni luis aduriz

• "Nothing is more powerful than enthusiasm."

And they really are friends...and people. It was so cool to see their respective personalities: Juan Mari and Pedro, the grandfather figures, equally humorous but Juan Mari a little bit more overt; Martin with his Emeril-like campesino character, rough around the edges; Elena, who for me was Pardis Stitt-like in her diplomacy; Andoni and his scholarly note-taking and serious considerations; and Eneko and Iñigo, the youngest, Iñigo slouching around and throwing out "hombre" just as anyone his age would.

*and might I add, with a bit of childish excitement, this happened two blocks from my house! squeeeee

pintxo astearteak (tapa tuesdays)

astelena:::solomillo a la pobre (sirloin steak sprinkled with sea salt, served with crispy potatoes, a quail egg, and a pimento del piquillo sauce)

why basque chefs are special

Last week, I read an interesting article in the Diario Vasco that danced around this very question, which will be addressed tonight in a meeting between some of the great heads and the new faces of basque cuisine, such as Juan Mari Arzak (arzak), Pedro Subijana (akelarre), Iñigo Cojo (a fuego negro) and Andoni Luis Aduriz (mugaritz), just to name a few.

Some of the factors they attributed new basque cuisine's success to were cooperation, innovation, and the "human" factor.  One of the organizers of the event said, "Our chefs pollinate with other cultures, like the french, and were able to adapt the basque tradition, finding a balance between international influence and  respect for the tradition itself."  Also a major factor cited (and one corroborated by a friend of mine who has his hand in the gastronomic scene here) was the cooperation and lack of selfishness on the part of the great chefs here.  It's a crowded scene here when it comes to Michelin stars, which makes the lack of ego almost eerie.

But most beautiful was a quote from Elena Arzak, the next generation of the great cuilnary family, who said:

"In Basque Country, if you close your eyes in front of a dish and you focus solely on the flavor, it's not easy to tell how old the chef is. Here, the older chefs continue to evolve to the rhythm of the young, and avant-guard dishes are prepared by veteran creators with the youthfulness to invent."

vamos: hondarribia, país vasco

Recently, we had a puente, a super Spanish phenomenon that occurs when a holiday falls on a Tuesday or Thursday and the whole world subsequently decides not to go to work on either that Monday or Friday, resulting in an extra long weekend.

Oh, Spain.

A good friend of mine offered to take me around Hondarribia-Fuentarrabía for the afternoon. This Basque town sits meters away from the French border town of Hendaye, but the two towns are very different. The old quarter of Hondarribia is enchanting. Trees line the cobblestone roads, and the outlines of the ancient fortress walls define its shape.

Lately, Hondarribia is getting more credit as a dining destination. Expect an influx of gastronomic day-trippers thanks to this recent article. Many chefs thumb their noses at the expensive rents of Donosti and set up shop in the small, neighboring village, which might turn out to be surprisingly prescient.

The fisherman's quarter of Hondarribia was perhaps my favorite area. Without the stone grandeur of the old part, it's mostly comprised of tiny, almost elfin cottages.  Basque fisherman would set off early in the morning, walking out their front doors, down the tree-lined street, and into their fishing boats.

Remnants of the famous seige on the city by the French can be found in the pockmarked fortress that is now a parador, or state run luxury hotel. 16,000 shells were fired into the city, which was almost destroyed but did not surrender. They celebrate this victor with fiestas at the beginning of September.

Finally, we scaled the mountains around the city to stand on cliffs overlooking the bay. An ancient lighthouse that used to guide in the Basque sailors sits at the top of the hills.

Gorgeous.

pintxo astearteak (tapa tuesdays)

bar zabaleta:::foie con sidra (a seared piece of foie gras and apples with a Basque cider glaze and a balsamic drizzle)