The moment you step on the same block, the smell in the air violently invades your olfactory excitement. Alliumphobics not welcome. (Of course I didn't know that word, I looked it up.)
The dining room is small and welcoming, we feel right at home. It's loud, but not annoyingly so. The ambiance is pleasantly smooth. The Sangria goes down beautifully, both red and white, and it keeps coming. I'm already impressed and nothing has come out yet. The real treasure starts with the bread and garlic aioli spread. The very essence of garlic is deeply infused into the buttery, citrusy topping. I down much more bread than usual. My mouth is already screaming obscenities of intense protest. We’re not used to this intensity, me and my mouth.
Calamari to die for. I always ensure people that it doesn’t have to remind you of eating a chopped up tire. This dish is buttery and smooth, charred to perfection with a spicy sauce. Luckily I’m here with two other people that love to eat. So the dishes start to come. Tomato basil salad, spinach goat cheese salad, ceviche, garlic shrimp; that should be enough to start to meal. Each dish is unique and thoughtfully refined to perfection. Care and love are prominent here. I haven’t been to Spain yet, but this meal is pushing me and pushing me. Sangria keeps coming. I’m nearing full and our main dishes are still on the way.
I’m glad my friends like to share. Because the seafood paella is floral and lighthearted and amazing. It’s probably the best I’ve ever hard. And the roasted duck breast with fig reduction is undeniably good. The fig complements the ducks fatty meat to a nice balance of sweet and savory. My grilled yellow fin tuna steak is the worst dish of the night. It’s near excellent.
I think we ordered flourless chocolate cake with homemade caramel and whipped cream… but I’m in a state of hypnosis…deep in my phone looking at flight prices to Barcelona.