“I take responsibility for not having managed my expectations.“
Cuisine: Basque, barbecue, seasonal. The menu changes daily.
Website Link: https://www.asadoretxebarri.com/en/home
Overall Rating: 7.5/10
Food: 7/10
Service: 8.5/10
Atmosphere: 7/10
Would I return: Not likely.
Finally. Asador Extebarri, #4 restaurant in the world, one of Anthony Bourdain’s favourites, and something of a promised land for dining enthusiasts worldwide. I have been trying to book this restaurant for years, each month desperately refreshing the never-fruitful reservations page, and so after securing a table by a stroke of luck, I admit it was all I could think about. Food bloggers whose taste I respect waxed lyrical about the “meal of a lifetime”, Instagram captions read like love poems, so seemed the intoxicating effect of this elusive Basque restaurant. I flew to Bilbao specifically for this lunch and upon arrival did feel that frisson of awe one usually feels when walking into a particularly magnificent religious building. This was it, my holy grail, made all the more human by the kind and accommodating staff ushering us in from the rain and offering us a drink whilst they laid the tables (we were very early).
The meal opened with a generous slab of bread (nothing wrong with it), chorizo, marinated tuna, and anchovies. Who could complain about bread, chorizo and oily fish? None were the best I’ve had, but all were great examples of the art of simplicity. This sentiment was repeated with the ball of mozzarella atop chopped tomatoes from the garden. To be clear, I love great produce, but if blind tasted couldn’t honestly distinguish these plates as “best in the world” caliber. Cheese and tomatoes. Who could complain? Not I! But nor will I pretend that it was more than what it is. Another diner who visited some weeks previously had this dish served without the tomatoes (so, just a ball of mozzarella). It doesn’t feel right to me that two ingredient dish could be served with one ingredient missing, or that either incarnation qualifies as a culinary preparation worthy of note. It’s humble: The people, the service, and much of the food. But, you can’t eat vibes, and you can’t taste stories. On to the next course….
The grilled red prawns were fabulous – one of my favourite things to eat. I ate with my hands and sucked the heads – scrumptious! But… well you can probably guess where I’m going here. The prawns are not at all local (from 400 miles away in Palamos, where by their own admission “everyone” gets the best prawns from), and are simply grilled – to perfection I might add. This restaurant does not have a monopoly on red prawns, in fact an hour down the road in San Sebastián I later stuffed myself with comparable examples. To be clear: this is exactly how I think you should serve red prawns. The simplicity allows the produce to speak to you, uninterrupted. But because it is so simple, it would be disingenuous to suggest that this grilled red prawn was distinguishable from all the others. The knowledge that I was at “the worlds 4th best restaurant” lingered in the background and kept reminding me that this should be a meal of a lifetime. Perhaps it was inevitable that my experience would be crushed by the weight of all that expectation.
A quick segue to say that I couldn’t help but notice an inconsistency in the ethos: hyper seasonal hyper locality of some of the produce (mostly from their own back garden) vs the no such scruples for other ingredients on the menu. I also felt that the more rustic Basque plates didn’t really have any relationship at all with the gastronomic fine dining plates: there were two different languages on the menu that were somewhat incompatible with each other.
White asparagus with mushroom had a little more culinary intervention and I thoroughly enjoyed that plate. The white asparagus features heavily on the menus of the region and the produce was (again) excellent. The marinated tuna belly similarly had (a little) more going on. The texture was new to me – it had a crunch and bite that I wasn’t expecting, and I enjoyed it paired with the onion. The egg yolk and St George mushrooms was a little flat; eggs and mushrooms both need salt. I found it to be under seasoned, if seasoned at all. “Peas” a dish applauded by some, I felt really were just peas. I can’t blame the ingredients for being what they are, but although remarkably fresh and vibrant, there just wasn’t enough going on. I love peas and have great memories of growing them as a child but I found this plate to be one dimensional and I didn’t finish it.
The Hake kokoxtas (hake chin – and with each fish possessing just one chin, an ingredient intensive dish and a coveted delicacy in the region) was fork soft, nicely seasoned, served on a crisp kale leaf with a blob of aioli. It didn’t change my life but it did somewhat improve it. Then arrives “Cod Loin” presented whole then unceremoniously chopped in a motherly fashion, and plated at the table. The sauce consists only of gelatine from the fish bones, oil, and garlic. What a delight! It’s a well made, flavourful sauce that you’d swear was packed with butter, and a delicately cooked slab of white fish. The bread came in handy. What’s not to like?
Savoury courses came to their much anticipated conclusion with the famous ex dairy “Txuleta” steaks, cooked (like everything on the menu) on the grill, and served with a simple green salad. Impossible to fault the cooking of the steak – we both fought over the scraps left on the bone. The salad added light relief, the wine pairing was perfect. It was a good steak and a nice salad. I enjoyed this course, who wouldn’t? But the claims that this is the best steak, perhaps in the world? It just didn’t land that way for me and I say that as someone who really wanted it to. I found it to be very forgettable.
I had debated whether to mention this but there were also flies. Many of them, incessantly trying – and succeeding – in landing on our food. Staff did what they could – they had candles which they claimed would repel them, but alas the candle did nothing at all. This has dragged down my score for “Atmosphere” as swatting away flies was a constant task over the 4 hour duration of the meal. This would annoy me in any neighbourhood restaurant, but it became an infuriating distraction when sat in a culinary institution that people travel across the world to dine at.
The desserts were surprisingly two of the best and most creative plates in the menu (I haven’t seen this mentioned and this wouldn’t be my usual inclination). I was very (very!) pleasantly surprised at the beetroot and milk ice cream. I thought it was inspired and without a doubt one of the best fine dining desserts I’ve eaten. Earthy, irony, sweet beetroot with a cooling orb of silky milk. I was very pleased, and entertained. The “chocolate soufflé” was also excellent. I was conflicted with every mouthful: the pleasure of the eating and the pain of it getting closer to ending. Light, custardy, with a restrained lick of chocolate and the texture of a cloud, I most definitely could have (wanted to) eat two.
The next dessert, a pear tart was nothing special and I wished I hadn’t eaten it last as it was a great shame to replace the lingering flavour of the chocolate soufflé.
The wine selection was excellent, the cava, made in the Traditional Method was the best I’ve ever had, and the pairings were perfectly appropriate, though we couldn’t order a second glass of our favourite red as they had run out. Service is of minimal intervention and without flair (I thought this was the right approach). We were offered a walk around the kitchen, where the grill is operated solely by Chef Victor Arguinzoniz, using coals that he makes himself.
My parting thoughts are this: I found Asador Extebarri to be a good experience, and one that every self respecting foodie should have. That said, the hype surrounding the restaurant did not chime with the experience I had. I know Bourdain loved it, but Bourdain loved a lot of things and in any event was served grilled imperial Beluga caviar when he dined there. I felt that if you stripped away the wine list, the story, and how lovely the team are, the offering was not better than many other restaurants in the region. If it wasn’t so difficult to get to, and impossible and get in, would people rate it as highly? If someone took you here without telling you what it was, would you leave thinking this was the pinnacle of gastronomy? I’m not sure. And of course – the people and the story are an important part what gives a restaurant life. These additions I feel are enough to make this a special place, but the idea that only three better restaurants on earth exist I feel is an accolade too far. It’s worth mentioning that the restaurant itself doesn’t for a moment overstate itself. They didn’t ask for the think pieces and cult following, so I take responsibility for not having managed my expectations as to what a meal of this nature could ever truly be.
S.G 🥂
