More so than Mugaritz, more so than Arzak, more so even than some of the other #mystery places I've featured on here, this spot reeked of magic. Its super central position and incredible food should make it a mandatory destination for both residents and tourists. But half the poeple you ask don't have any idea it exists.
Its utterly unremarkable facade reveals only a poorly stocked bar at first glance. Here's where it gets all mythological...if you can get past the gatekeeper, the patriarch of the family that owns the restaurant, and get a table, you walk down stairs into a dark, small dining room with six tables and a clock that doesn't work.
The owner recites the menu as his wife straightens up your table and brings the wine. Famously gruff, he cites offerings of seafood, truffles, and meat from a cow whose name he told us but I've forgotten.
Then the food starts...and the best kokotxas I've ever had. Punto. These confit hake kokotxas were simply perfect, tender and not the least bit chewy. The best. I'm ruined.
Then there's the dish the very special couple that took me to this spot has been raving about for as long as I've known them: the potato, egg and truffle.
Soft and perfectly seasoned crushed potatoes drowning in bright yellow egg, with huge flakes of black truffle...we were all licking our plates. Really.
May this spot never change.