Dinner from The Kitchen - where else?
By Barceloner at 12 December, 2005, 11:34 am
It’s always the same.
We head off on a Friday night with a place in mind and hunger in our bellies. Half an hour later we are kicking ourselves for not having made a reserva and trawling the streets for a nice-looking restaurant.
Five or six blocks later we are ready to enter the nearest place that seemed to serve fairly decent food without a group of middle-aged men drinking cañas learing in the corner. So we came accross a place called The Kitchen on Rosselón heading towards Balmes, and a pleasant surprise it was indeed.
The first impression was of a swanky venue, minimalist and formal; the kind of place that would serve small quantities of meticulously prepared food on huge plates. As we were shown a table my trainers squeeked on the shiny floor. For a while we hugged the huge old radiator next to the table and had to shoo away the waitress to give us a little more time to study the menu.
The menu itself was fairly solid mediterranean fare with some fusion elements. Prices ranged from about 8 to 18 Euros for a main course. As usual, we blithely ordered a bottle of the house red, only to be told that from the large range of wines, the house didn’t want to take any sides. Nevertheless, the waitress helpfully showed us which was the cheepest on the list.
I can’t tell you what we got for starters - something we shared between two, with an assortment of really cool little bread rolls. I think paté might have been involved.
The real treat was the main course: two enourmous plates with a small, yet meticulously prepared portions.
I had a tuna tataki that was so tender is seemed to melt in my mouth. My dining partner, who has a uncanny knack of ordering the thing I really wanted, had a steak tartar that kicked ass! A delicious blob of raw minced beef, topped off with the yolk of a raw egg. My two bites were so delicious that I can still taste it today.
The deserts looked fabulous, but the food was surprising filling, so we knocked back a couple of coffees and headed round the corner to catch Albert Fibla at The Mediterraneo.
I think I went to the same place, but I’m not sure. It did a load of fried vegetables in eth style of crisps (or ‘chips’ if you prefer) as a side order.