Curiosa
I still remember the first time I met David de Jorge [or as I like to call him, my Hagrid] of RobinFood. Andoni took us to ‘visit the restaurant’ the night before our official first day. Except instead of walking into Restaurante Martín Berasategui, we snuck around back to la choza [aka Hagrid's hut]. Of course, it was a rainy evening in January, the perfect setting for an inconspicuous nighttime visit under the large paraguas of Sir Anthony.
David de Jorge
For our Sammic videos, we always film in the service kitchen of Restaurante Martín Berasategui and for the personal plate dishes we film in la choza de David de Jorge on the set of Robin Food. This time I had the rare opportunity to film in the home kitchen of Martín Berasategui.
camera
One of the most important things you learn as a BasqueStage or any stage coming to Restaurante Martín Berasategui is to be flexible. I always talk about how every day here is an aventura (adventure) and it is, a challenging one for that matter. No matter how prepared I come with my moleskine notebook of ideas, schedules and plans, I am always thrown a curveball. Or a sinker. Or a change-up. Or a knuckleball. Just like in baseball, BasqueStage requires you to sharpen your reaction time, then translate it to Spanish.
For instance, for each Sammic filming day, Athena and I have one grabación (recording) in the kitchen of Restaurante Martín Berasategui where we demonstrate Sammic machines and the other grabación in Hagrid’s hut, also known as la choza de David de Jorge (literally a hop and a skip away on the premises of MB) where we film a personal dish.
Recipe Planning
Congrats to all!
A special shoutout to my chef, Martín, for [Restaurante Martín Berasategui] climbing 4 spots to #29:
Garrote
Garrote!
I arrived at Restaurante Martín Berasatégui at 8:35am like I’ve been doing for the past two months or so and expected to go about my daily routine: change into chef whites, report to morning station in pastelería (that morning it was chocolate tempering) and then help clean before staff lunch. However after I finished tempering chocolate I was summoned by Joseba.
“Martín quiere que tu traduzcas.” (“Martin wants you to translate.”)
“Que?” I wondered to myself in the escalating, interrogative tone of bewilderment.
Here are some photographic intrigues from the kitchen of Martín Berasatégui this week:
Erizo de Mar
I “Eee!” ‘d with excitement (how Martín of me) when these bright, orangey ‘tongues’ of uni arrived that I had to break one open and try it. Briny, mildly sweet with a short finish compared to ones from Santa Barbara (sweet, hints of vanilla, lingering finish) or Maine (earthy, nutty, grainier texture, long finish).
For the past week and a half I’ve been in pastelería. Hasta la pasta, fishy hands! Truth be told, I really wanted to work with Juan, the chef de partida. He is organized, logical and methodical. Sure all the jefes have their moments of berating you on the line if you sprinkle a few too many carrot brunoise but there is rhyme and reason to his madness.
Tejas de Chocolate
Ever since I first laid eyes on them in La Bretxa market, I’ve wanted to try percebes, also known as barnacles or ‘dinosaur claws’ in my last description. I’d only seen them once at La Bretxa and then again in Hondarribia when a peculiar lady was selling them on the street. Darn, why didn’t I seize the opportunity when it stared me in the face? I could have struck a great deal on that percebes gold. Alas, I finally encountered percebes again the other night at where else but an unassuming pintxos bar in Parte Vieja.
Claws
Sometimes show is so much easier than tell. Check out snapshots of this week from the kitchen of Martín Berasatégui:
Part of Martín’s lunch:
jumbo
