Wilfrid

Dinner at Hisop, of course. In the almost 20 years I've been eating here, nothing has changed and nothing needs to change (except arguably the availability of wines BTG although there are pairings if you do the tasting menu). I ordered from the carte, but happily one of the dishes calling to me from the tasting menu showed up as the second amuse: artichokes with pig's feet and sea snails. The first amuse consisted of the tiniest tail of some fish, full of flavor, and a soup made from the same fish with trout eggs. Then "calçotada" de trufa; small leeks with truffles shaved at the table. That came with a terrific truffled romesco sauce. Porgy with beans and a kind of wild mint (poleo). The glorious pigeon which comes with a firm and intense pâté of innards. Cheeses. Dry sherry to star, a half-bottle of Embruix red, sweet sherry with cheese, cognac and coffee. Mignardises. 168 Euros for everything.

I can't remember why it happened, but his personal phone number was once accidentally published. Whatever the context, it must have been something interesting so I called and he picked up. He was not happy; I was not the first. I ate at Lutece once I think.

I looked back on my post from last September and yay, they switched to coupes at Ideal Cocktail Bar.

Last night, La Sosenga, this gem in an alley near Els 4 Gats. My third time. You must reserve (or risk a solo walk-in for the one or two bar seats). You must be on time because she will come to the door and call out your name. The two women front-of-house are so charming (especially because I am remembered) but they run this place uncompromisingly tightly. Tasting menu only at the table. Eight courses, nine if you count the terrific bread course: country bread with butter whipped with white mushrooms; traditional Catalan coca flatbread with girolles, butifarra and tomato. Then croquette of roast beef with mint and leek. A vegetable millefeuille with pickled onion and onion juice. Black turnip with chickpea puree, local truffles optional. Basque-ish bacalao in pil pil sauce, olive and spinach, raisins too. Quail with potato, glazed shallots and sweet-sour sauce. Local cheeses. A choice of rather sweet and squidgy cheesecake or delicious flan flavored with mushrooms. Again, all the above for 32 euros, tax included, gratuity optional (we left one). Unless you are expert in local Catalunyan organic wines, leave it to your server. The prices are within a narrow range, 25 to 35 euros. She presented us with a funky, cool bottle of red (a Marselan from the nearby Garraf Massif mountains), then rich glasses of cloudy dessert wine. Meager remnant of bread course pictured and I guess the croquettes went fast. Also Casa Carot, cheese source near Placa Jaume, which I had not previously known.

Afternoon beers in Bar Leo. No tourists. I don't count.

Barceloneta. Feels like 60 and surf's up.

It was certainly the last.

Ooh no, there's a history. Hinds encore with "Davy Crockett," a furious blast from a British all-woman band called Thee Headcoatees. That song quotes the Ramones' "Pinhead," which in turn quotes a scene from a 1930s movie "Freaks" which has so much contemporary relevance I could cry. @small h If you knew all that please remember it's late here...

Oh that must be it. I don't know the Charli really. Guess what the second encore was, extra points for shouting Gabba Gabba Hey wherever you are now.

Details to follow, but while I am enjoying a late digestif: I took two very old friends to La Sosenga, one of my favorites here. I was kept away from the check, but it looked like 140 euros. Right, the incredibly good eight course tasting menu is 32 euros per head. We must have run the check up to dizzying heights with the bottle of local organic red wine and after dinner drinks. Stupid.

Was that the last song in the regular set? I certainly didn't know it. Some video on IG for anyone interested. By the way, Ana and I aren't singing above. She said we had to shout "Noo Yawk!"

The show, in an old ballroom with a kind of red glow, was spectacular and the audience reaction the wildest I've yet seen. After the show, I got lucky. My friend and I went for refreshments to a craft beer bar nearby. We must have been there thirty or forty minutes and when we came out there was a gaggle of people outside a different bar. I just immediately saw drummer Maria's afro; which is quite distinctive. She was with bassist Paula so I went up and said hello, then I knew I had to say "Where is Ana? She knows me." And suddenly there she was and she did know who I was. Hugs, conversation, selfies. I said I wasn't very good at selfies, Ana said "I am" and grabbed my phone.

More to come but here's the important part.

Four hours to Hinds. Too early to start drinking but I think I've had enough cafe solos for one day.

Maybe not quite as funny as My Fucking Restaurant or Good Shit Vegan Kebabs, but I took note of the Sinatra-themed My Way.

After enjoying the ineffable peace of the upstairs galleries at Museu Frederic Mares, lunch at La Pineda. For once I ordered the half-size surtido des embutidos and I was glad I did because it was not burdened with stacks of chorizo. A glass of dark Catalan rose, Hereus. ETA: The colorful sausage in the middle row is Morcon, a fabulously bulbous sausage traditionally encased in a pig's bladder. I don't think I've had it here before.

Green Chartreuse. I wondered if they'd have it but spied it on the bottom shelf.

Oh more comps.

Bar Celta may be about the only old school tapas bar left anywhere near the center of the city (yes, there's a hole-in-the-wall here and there). Same food, same owner forever. The tapas are big. I usually order morcilla, but I'd had it for lunch. Bunuelos de bacalao, chipirrones. Only room for a plate of bacon (plus comps) at Bodega 8, where I also heard a lot of soccer stories from an English couple. Oh the bunuelo photo was last minute.

A gentleman never wears shorts except on the beach or in the desert. 🧐

Halfway through a Last Word at Boadas. Next three evenings are packed so might wander around some old tapas bars tonight. Bars in general are very quiet. The staff blame Dry January and the weather. The weather is dry too but I was finding it chilly even though it's in the 50s. Realized I am not dressed as I would be in New York.

Excellent two-floor show of Catalan artists in Paris (1900-1914) at Museu Picasso. Lunch a few steps away at Tapeo, opposite El Xampanyet. This is Tapeo by Daniel Rueda who apparently used to be at Commerc24. Very good pincho moruno with mint yogurt; a hunk of morcilla de Burgos with piri piri sauce and a scoop of housemade cream cheese; a plate of eggplants in honey and lime which was good, but too large and too rich for one person. With a glass of wine and mineral water, 26 euros. Walked it off at the Leger show at Palau Martorell. Last photo is Bodega 8 spied from a window of the Palau.

Last night's food was at Bodega 8 that I discovered last time I was here. It's an attractive room in an old building on Placa de Merce, sweeping modern bar, mainly locals and regulars and big cute dogs. The owner remembered me so comps followed. In addition to superb ham and fuet from the family carnisseria and cheese with walnuts she sent out pepper bacon and longaniza. Cava, Pla del Blages tinto and a chupito of cognac.

If Ana is not in a relationship, the world is mad.