Lunch With An Alchemist

When I was researching Barcelona restaurants back in the summer, looking for somewhere suitable to apply for work, several establishments stood out. My favourite was Comerç 24, where I'm now two months into my training stage. But there were some other restaurants that really caught my attention. Espai Sucre (Sugar Place) was one. It's not every day you find a restaurant that only serves dessert courses, especially one that attempts to break down the barriers between sweet and savoury flavours in its pastry cooking. Cinc Sentits (Five Senses) was another. Just look at their photo display to see why.

My parents had promised to take me to a restaurant for a birthday present when they came over the other weekend, as well as coming to eat at Comerç 24. But with neither Espai Sucre nor Cinc Sentits open on a Sunday or Monday, I had to look elsewhere. My choice for Monday lunch was Jordi Vilà's Alkimia. One of the Nuevos Cocineros de Barcelona (the spiritual offspring of Ferran Adrià), Jordi trained with Michelin-starred Jean-Louis Neichel (the man who earned El Bulli's first Michelin star) and the great Jean Luc Figueras, before opening Alkimia four years ago and winning his own first star 18 months later.

If you're wondering why I omitted the hyperlink, it wasn't a mistake. Strangely, for a Michelin-starred restaurant in this day and age, Alkimia does not appear to have a website. Describing its cuisine as Catalan, auteur and experimental, I'd seen good write-ups from Frommer's and the Telegraph and some excellent photos and a recommendation from Pim. The decision was finally sealed when I read the write-up from Rrems, a frequent and well-travelled contributor to Chowhound. So off we set on the metro to Sagrada Familia, for the short walk to Carrer de la Indústria and lunch with an alchemist.

Before I criticise, a couple of points. Firstly - and it should go without saying - if I thought the food at Alkimia was better than the food we're serving up at Ç24, I'd say so. I derive no pleasure from criticising competitors. Secondly, everywhere has good days and bad days. Maybe we just got unlucky with the timing. And thirdly, make no mistake that the best of Alkimia is absolutely stunning - anyone with two eyes and half a palate can see how Head Chef earned his Michelin star.

Now for some compliments. Two of the dishes were brilliant to the point of genius. One was Jordi's signature dish - a deconstructed version of the simple and traditional pa amb tomàquet (white bread rubbed with tomato pulp and olive oil), in which they filter the tomato, separate the flavoursome juice, add olive oil, top with crumbs of toasted bread and serve with lloganissa salami.

They managed a gluten-free version of this (simply with the bread component removed), which dad described as the first time he'd experienced a range of textures in a perfectly homogenised liquid. "Somehow", dad asserted to me, "the tomato seeds, pulp and juice could all be tasted separately. Drinking it was like an amputee scratching an itch in the missing limb".

I also have to give the highest credit for the dish in which Jordi combined intensely flavoured dried tuna slices with a vanilla infused pumpkin puree and seeds, a masterpiece of construction and balance.

Unlike the beef fillet with caramelised shallot, salsify and pear compote, which seemed lacking in creativity and more to the point, purpose. And I'm not sure I'd have dived into the blue stock surrounding the clam, oyster and caviar - even to save a drowning man.

In the 21st century, a top-class restaurant should be able to cater for food allergies and intolerances, no matter how loudly Jay Rayner may argue that yesterday's "tiresome little brats" like my dad should shut up and eat what's put in front of them.

Dad is meticulous about explaining to waiters that he's a coeliac and describing his exact degree of intolerance towards gluten. He was happy to dismiss being presented with non-GF bread as an error easily made, because bread is distributed like condiments and cutlery.

But on two separate occasions his food was brought to the table - only to be followed by a moment of embarrassment as the waiter hesitated, thought about it, and returned to the kitchen. There's absolutely no excuse for that. And nor is there any excuse for having to send back a bottle of wine. A bottle that wasn't corked, I hasten to add. Even at the Hotel George Cinq they suffer the odd cork failure. No, this was a tannic wine - deliberately chosen as such, that contained so much tannin I'm sure it could have killed a small animal within seconds. Imagine home made wine fermented from unripe sharon fruit and and you've got some idea what I'm talking about. So astringent it could have been employed as an alternative to botox.

So - to sum up - clear evidence of genius, masked by imperfection. I truly hope it was just a bad day. There aren't enough restaurants producing dining experiences at the level of which Alkimia is so obviously capable and I hope they don't start to slide downwards. Here's my slide show of the tasting menu. For more information on individual dishes, click on the corresponding slide: