Feed the Soul
She followed her forebears into the kitchen of Restaurante Arzak but this renowned Spanish chef brought her own flair to the 120-year-old establishment. Here she shares the meals that have moved her.
The meals that shaped famed Spanish chef Elena Arzak
When my sister and I accompanied our father to La Bretxa market as children, he would take us for a pintxo as a treat. One day he took us to one of the classic old bars and ordered a plate of percebes [gooseneck barnacles], which are found all along the rough Atlantic coast. He showed us how to open them by pinching the top to release the edible part. We were supposed to share the plate but I think I ate most of them. Some people say they taste like a cross between lobster and clam. To me, they have a very delicate flavour of the essence of the sea. They’re an exquisite, treasured part of my childhood. After I had each of my own children, I had a quiet celebration with my husband and our tiny new family. Sitting together in our home, we shared a huge plate of percebes.
In 1989, when I was in my first year at Schweizerische Hotelfachschule Luzern [hotel and restaurant management school] my parents came to Switzerland to see me. They took me to Frédy Girardet’s restaurant in Crissier as a special treat. I was awed. I hadn’t been to many Michelin-starred restaurants at that point and I remember being particularly impressed by the technique and precision, especially the perfectly exact brunoise. It stuck with me. Precision is something I continue to value in my kitchen and innovative restaurants fascinate me. Another memory that stands out was the lunch cooked for us on our restaurant’s 100th anniversary in 1997. It was under a tent, set up in the main square of our neighbourhood. There were local cooks, professionals and dedicated amateurs – friends and co-workers. They made versions of our dishes, including my father’s landmark pastel de krabarroka [a scorpion fish cake] as well as a squab charlotte and stewed beef cheeks. It was so moving and just goes to show that food made with heartfelt affection tastes best
– it transmits feelings. I’ll never forget it.
Sometimes it’s all about the place. At the end of last summer a cheesemaker friend made us lunch at his temporary hut on top of a windswept mountain range. He made a hearty lamb stew with potatoes cooked over a wood fire with a big round loaf of village bread, a tomato salad from his garden and idiazábal, which is my favourite cheese. We were crowded around a wooden table, passing plates of food and bottles of txakoli wine and dry Basque cider. Several of the guests were bertsolaris – a revered type of Basque poet. Eventually one started to sing a bertso, a form of spontaneous epic poetry. Others joined in, taking turns to make up verses. It was magical as the wind whistled outside and the fire and the wine warmed us inside.
I grew up in a restaurant, in the heart of a family obsessed with food. Every special event in our family takes place around a table. We are lucky to live in a place like the Basque Country, with wonderful raw ingredients. But the most important thing is the people and the conversation. I love the way we eat off a common plate here; there’s something so special about sharing food with family and friends.