Three chefs, Tom, Villasar and Nico

A slow start led us down the hill towards La Rambla, the long street leading to the water. I popped into a second hand shop and was greeted by the female assistant,

“Hola,” she said.

“Hola,” I replied.

Her rapid Spanish which followed was met by my quizzical look and she then spoke in English.

“Can I help you?” she said.

“I was just passing and I thought I’d pop in and have a sticky around the shop, if you don’t mind.”

This time it was her turn for a quizzical look.

“I don’t understand a word you are saying. Where are you from?”

Over coffee, Tom’s phone rang and it was Nico, his Spanish chef friend he worked with at the Gilbert Scott in London.

“Would you like to come to lunch at my friend’s restaurant in the hills behind Barcelona?”

The train to Mataro, a half an hour north of Barcelona, ran on tracks just a few metres from the beach and sometimes the ocean. Nico took us in his Volvo into the hills, past vineyards and traditional homes beside the winding road, all the time telling us stories. He told us of the history of the area which is not Spanish but Catalan, their love of food and a long lunch, of the local sparkling wine, cava, till we arrived at Villasar’s restaurant at Vallromanes.

Nico suggested we allow Villasar to bring out what the chef thought would, in his words, “Make us happy.”

Over the next three hours, we ate:

Strawberry and tomato Gazpacho (cold soup)

Alaskan Salmon salad

Pa anb tomaquete (Bread with tomatoes and oil)

Table of jamon (ham)

Greek green olives

Ham in béchamel croquettes

Tempura battered onions in romesco (peppers, tomatoes and nuts) sauce

Cod with grated black olive with confit tomato

Capitota (pig’s head and trotters)

Pork rib paella

Coconut foam pineapple with mint

Orange brioche

Cigalo rum with espresso

Orujo, pomace brandy

Orange chocolate sweets

Copa cava (local sparkling white )

AA Parvus (local Chardonnay)

We were more than happy. The food was excellent and Nico, a natural storyteller, entertained us for all of the three hours it took to get through the courses. Vilassar sat with us and gave us places to eat in Girona, one of his chefs recommended seafood restaurants in Portugal, we met and swapped business cards with the local mayor who was having lunch, Tom toured the kitchen then Nico drove us back to Barcelona a little bit more squashed in the Volvo than when he picked us up at the train station.

Later in the evening, while the other carpet snakes were curled up resting after their meal, I took a walk to a nearby square and listened to five men play guitar, clap and sing their version of Spanish flamenco rap. A good finish to a fine day.