summer's suddenly sprung: san sebastian.

...and we're back. To Mike's birthday trip, that is, which, yes, I know, ended over two months ago, but we moved, people. (More on that, and other recent things, much, much later.)

Cast your mind, if you will, to San Sebastian, Spain, where, very sadly, during the first week of May, the weather was nowhere near summery, but it almost didn't matter. San Sebastian isn't big, but it is action-packed and full of insanely good food. Our first stop, after dropping off the rental car in the world's most poorly-marked Sixt location and checking in to our fancy-pants hotel right on the (freezing cold) beach was dinner at Arzak, a three-Michelin-star restaurant, longtime entry on the list of the world's 50 best restaurants, and a place I've wanted to go ever since I saw it on 'No Reservations' (which also convinced me that the entire culinary scene in San Sebastian was mightily worth a trip, some magical day...).* More important to me, though, was its concept as a family restaurant--the current head chef, Elena Arzak, is the fourth generation of her family to cook here, after having worked alongside her father for many years! And also that it's somewhat unique in the rarified atmosphere that is the 50-best list in that they serve approachable, local food, at the absolute top of the game. I'm in. As it turns out, the restaurant is also quite intimate--no grand, wide-open spaces that generally intimidate you into sitting up straight and speaking only in whispers. The atmosphere is quite comfortable and cozy, so that there was a certain warm level of conversation and joviality at all times--also a rarity in a restaurant of this reputation and high standard. What a joy and an absolute privilege to dine there. A few highlights:

Because I'm utterly addicted to vegetables, I started with the seasonal veggie plate. Mixed in there are fresh peas, favas, asparagus, mushrooms, radishes, edible flowers, and house-made tofu. Gorgeous and sublime.

My "grouper with its own collagen enhancing its texture and beauty." Which, frankly, sounds a little icky, but was stunningly tasty.

The lovely chocolates served with our coffee at the end! The flavors included curry, cinnamon, and avocado and raspberry, and they're in the shape of wee froggies to honor this species of San Sebastian frog that almost went extinct, but is making a slow comeback. (Swoooooon.)

Even though it wasn't Mike's actual birthday, they still brought him a birthday treat. ("Zorionak" is "congratulations" in Basque.)

Our menu for the night. We didn't each have all those courses (thank heavens); where we had choices on the menu, Mike and I each got a different item so that we could try it all. (And also, we added in cheese as well, because cheeeeeeeeese.)

OH YEAH, and while the food was genuinely awesome, the high point of the night was getting to meet chef Elena Arzak herself! We got to speak with her twice! What a lovely and accomplished and interesting lady, and so gracious to come out and greet all of the guests. (Yeah, yeah, I got a little starstruck. Like I said, I've been thinking about this place for 11-ish years now.)

The next morning, my intrepid (and, possibly, slightly stubborn) husband did something unexpected: I'd told him about the existence of this tortilla espanola at Bar Nestor in San Sebastian that has been regularly voted one of the best tapas in Spain or something along those lines--but they only make two a day, and in order to get a coveted slice, you have to get to Nestor a couple of hours before they opened and to put your name on a list. So Mike, my "I don't wait in line for anything" husband, went and stood in some rather chilly wind for two hours to get his name on this list, and ended up being first in line.

While, I meanwhile, slept in a bit and then faffed around taking some photos in San Sebastian's lovely little historic center.

Pretty.

Just prior to our return to Bar Nestor, we stopped at the marvelous (and, luckily, next-door) Txepetxa to try out their famous anchovy pintxos. We tried their no. 1 seller, anchovies with crab and creme Anglais (left), and anchovies with chopped and marinated peppers and onions. Really ridiculously so good!!! 

And then, at 1:00 PM sharp, we claimed Mike's prize: not one but two slices of the most heavenly tortilla ever. (I know it's just olive oil, potatoes, onions, and eggs, but this thing was surreally creamy. An unbelievable texture.) Apparently, being first in the tortilla line has its privileges: one of the waiters kicked some people off of the end of the only (6-person) table in the place, and we got to sit and be as leisurely as we wanted. And so, not pictured: the tomato/olive oil salad, the pimientos de padron, the gilda skewers, the small cheese plate, and the massive hot-stone steak that we also shared. (Because those items are the only things Bar Nestor does, and they do them well.)

Heh.

After our ginormous lunch we decided to walk it off a teensy bit at the San Telmo Museum of Basque Society and Citizenship (a rather grand name for an excellent and approachable museum). 

The museum is an interesting blend of old and new: a very modern building was added in about 2012-ish to the historical museum already existing in a 16th-century convent.

The main church contains some gigantic canvases by Jose Maria Sert, commissioned to create the paintings for the museum's move to the convent buildings in 1932. (Amazing fact: Sert is the same guy who did the murals in 30 Rock!)

These things go all the way around the interior with the exception of the back wall. Stunning.

Above the paintings in the apse are some 16th-century frescoes rediscovered during renovations.

Among other fascinating exhibits in the museum proper was this display on traditional Basque countryside headdresses; many of these styles could indicate, for example, one's birthplace and socioeconomic standing. Hilariously--well, now, but probably not so much at the time--these were banned by the church in the 17th century for their perhaps-somewhat-phallic shape.

Just look at the variety in those things, though. So elaborate.

There were also exhibits on Basque craftsmen and their trades; Basque manufacturing; music; and plenty of art. 

Looooove that graphic design.

Interestingly, there was also a temporary exhibition on death and funerary culture. I believe these grave stelae are part of the permanent collection, but I think they brought in extras for the special exhibit.

There were also a few of these tatted shrouds, which, in the 16th century, were usually the finest and most intricate items included in the linens a woman took into her marriage.

Yes, this is a terrible photo, but this was my favorite part of the death exhibit: beehives and candles. I will reproduce the caption of this portion verbatim: "In the past, it was customary to inform the bees of the death of a family member to get the bees to make was for the argizaiolas (funeral candle holders)." Two things here. First, just FYI, the argizaiolas are those flat things in the background and foreground of that photo, and the stuff wrapped around the middle is said beeswax. Second, I know someone's losing a loved one, but how weirdly cute is it that you'd notify the bees?**

Back outside the museum, we wandered into this church (with the largest gilded altar I've ever seen) where a really excellent men's choir was practicing for an upcoming concert. So, naturally, we set up camp to listen for a few minutes. Sadly, my video captured more of the echo than the beautiful music, so wah-wahhhhhh, no video for you.

Next, because it was lovely and sunny outside (for once), and because it wasn't so far away, we decided to hike up Mount Urgull to check out its views and fortifications.

Neither of which are too shabby. (Look at that beach! I bet it's glorious--if packed--during the summer heat.)

This mountain is topped with a smallish castle and honeycombed with all sorts of paths and stairways and ramparts and battlements and miscellaneous fortifications, but for me, the most interesting part was what they call the English Cemetery.

It's a handful of tombstones for British soldiers who were sent in the 1830s to support Spain's reigning queen regent against her brother-in-law Carlos's claims to the throne.  (...Well, that's more or less what it was about; as with any civil war, it's far more involved and I'm just not into writing a historical essay on it right now. You're welcome.)

Clearly, these overgrown, crooked tombstones and their position overlooking the sea are very romantic and ripe for photograph-taking, but mainly I found it terribly tragic that these poor men died so very far from home in such a seemingly inconsequential conflict. (Seemingly inconsequential at the time, that is. The outcome of the First Carlist War did help create the Basque nationalism movement, from which arose the ETA, eventually, so one might argue that, at least, in this part of the world, it was very consequential. But these guys and their families didn't know that.)

Post-hill climb, it was time to make our way towards dinner at Casa Urola, a center-of-downtown restaurant with a sterling reputation. And while I can say that the food was really good...

Yup, I'm a sucker for a plate of seasonal vegetables. (Not pictured: the excellent grilled octopus we shared as another starter.)

...the service started out decently and then went precipitously downhill. Our wines and waters went unfilled for a good while, and then it took us a half-hour to pay, which sort of thing I've never understood. PEOPLE, I'M TRYING TO GIVE YOU MONEY FOR THE SERVICE WHICH YOU'VE JUST PROVIDED, AND I WILL PROBABLY OVERTIP YOU, SINCE I'M AMERICAN AND DO THAT ROUTINELY. TAKE MY MONEY. TAKE IT NOW AND LET ME GO HOME, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.

Ahem.

The next morning, we had the absolute best yeast donut I've had on this continent (...and maybe another exquisite pastry or two...) at Argitan bakery, then took one last stroll through the old town to stock up on some foodie souvenirs...and, of course, to eat some more pintxos, because it just can't be helped.

 

Ughhhhhh, not when you see this sort of vision through every doorway! (And look how long that bar is. The food here is near-infinite.)

Must...eat... (That thing in the back that looks like a sandwich made of zucchini slices, in fact, was one, with ground, seasoned pork in the middle and cheese melted on top. Want again right now.)

Afterwards we hopped a little commuter train north to the French border, where I'd given us an hour between train connections because borders. Turns out, in going from Hendaia, on the Spanish side, to Hendaye, the French side of the train station, takes all of 30 seconds. So we sat down at the only cafe nearby and ate some more. (Mike's pot au feu with chicken and chickpeas was quite tasty.)

Kinda fun to look down the street and see signs in French, Spanish, and Basque.

Then, we caught our fancy-pants TGV train still further north to the bourgeoisie finale of Mike's trip, and the destination that had inspired all of this excess: Bordeaux. 

That's what's up next.

*RIP, Bourdain. The world misses you.

**I envision something along the lines of "Grandpa's gone to Heaven, our little winged friends. Please and thank you for the beeswax you're about to provide." I also kinda think telling the bees would make for some excellent, and very deep-South-sounding, last words: "Judith, tell the bees it's time. I'm goin' home." Ugh, so irreverent, I know, but will someone please tell the bees when I kick off? It's just such a lovely gesture.

summer's suddenly sprung.

With the numerical arrival of June, friends, it appears as though our cold, wet spring has finally reached its end. And now it's 30+ degrees outside (...that's 86 F, Americans) every freaking day. And that's not the first time in recent memory that our change in season has corresponded exactly with the change of calendar date; it's actually getting to be a little spooky! At any rate, here's a look at what we did while it rained and we froze and then it rained some more.

Picking up where we left off: in March, our final visit to Herzbaracke was one of the most creative, fun shows we've seen there, maybe ever: The Waffle Machine Orchestra. Imagine, if you will, a swing-meets-Dixieland-meets-ragtime band with a smattering of acrobatics thrown in, and that's roughly what The Waffle Machine Orchestra brings to the table.

That and old-timey bathing costumes.

Speaking of acrobatics: the trombone player is standing on the drummer's knees, and the bass player is holding herself vertical with her legs around the guitar player's waist, all while they're continuing to play.

Same here, obvs, and yes, she's wearing a giant bushy mustache. (This song very quickly thereafter turned into a song I can only describe as Soviet disco surfer ska--100% unique and delightful. As was the 'Minnie the Moocher'/'Hall of the Mountain King' mash-up and their cover of 'I Wanna Be Like You' from The Jungle Book.)

During another song--one about cats--they all laid down to take a "cat nap". (Again, still playing.)

Srsly, if you're into fun and/or good music, don't pass up an opportunity to see these guys. We will definitely look for them again next season on the boat, and hopefully figure out a way to see them sometime in between.

Next up, we took a few days to dash down to Piemonte--which, despite the frequency of our trips there, never gets old. And this time we managed both to bring some new friends with us and to try out some new restaurants and wineries. Yessssss. A brief overview:

The glorious tasting room at Renato Ratti.

The incredible elliptical cellars at Elio Grasso. (I think the most efficient way to get around down here would be on roller skates. Almost like it was designed for that.)

The outrageously good sheep's-milk panna cotta with burnt caramel sauce at Dai Bercau, our latest can't-miss restaurant in the Piedmont. This stuff was so good we ordered a second round of it. (The dining style there is kinda like Gemma's, but with slightly more upscale food; there's no menu and they just start bringing various courses of glorious local food, but here you actually have some control over portion size and number of courses. The whole scene is just fantastic.)

The very familiar cellar at my favorite Piemonte winery, Paolo Manzone. (They're the nicest people ever, their wine is delicious and reasonably priced, and they always bring out local salami and cheese during a tasting. Heavenly.)

Obligatory church photo prior to the obligatory lunch at Gemma's. (The only place in the world I'll eat raw beef. Gemma's is feathery-light and lightly but perfectly seasoned, more like a spread than a mound of raw meat, and it is unfathomably good.)

The views from La Morra are expansive, to say the least.

A quick stroll through Bra after lunch at the excellent 480 Gradi pizzeria.

With one exception, April was fairly quiet--but that exception was quite big: we bought an apartment! So I've been spending some time saying my goodbyes to our current, really special place, which has been our very treasured home for over 6 years now.

Yeah...it's fairly unique.

And since we still don't move for a couple of weeks, I'm trying to keep myself from going insane by doing a little writing, so...to the big event of the spring: Mike's surprise birthday trip. We've done the Nürburgring and a jet flight--what's left but snooty wine and fancy food? Or so I was thinking, anyway, since I'm an idiot and used up all of my big ideas two years ago. This year's destinations: Bilbao and San Sebastian, Spain (...Basque country!), for some incredible food, and Bordeaux, France, for some fancy-pants wine. 

On our first afternoon in Bilbao--one of the three sunny days we had in the ten of our travels!--we checked in and then headed across the gorgeous Nervion river...

...to an architectural marvel I've wanted to see for a good while: the Bilbao Guggenheim.

The Guggenheim and the massive 'Maman' ironwork spider by Louise Bourgeois. 

This building is utter insanity.

I love it.

The inside is just as nutty.

How on earth would you, as the architect, communicate these shapes to your contractors??

No photos are allowed of the artworks inside*, but outside, among several other pieces, is Jeff Koons' ginormous flower-covered 'Puppy,' which was in the process of getting its flowers refreshed while we were there.

Which, on the one hand, was a little disappointing--no 'Puppy' in his full flowery glory--but was also rather interesting, in that they only do this twice a year and it's a major undertaking involving 20 people and 9 days to complete.

Post-museum, but pre-dinner, we had a little time to kill, and so wandered over to check out the rather striking Tiger Building.

LOOK AT THAT THING. It is 9 meters long (...I believe...), and perches atop this great Art Deco-ish building from 1942. The double Ms on the side are the initials of the building's original owner, whose business's name and nickname both involved the word "Tiger." So there you go.

Dinner this evening was at the rather empty, but foodily extravagant, Eneko Bilbao, which is owned by the same guy that owns the current 43rd best restaurant in the world, so I figured this place would probably be ok. (His other restaurant isn't so far outside of Bilbao, but I was sold on the convenience of this location, and besides, had other plans for ridiculously high-level food on this trip...but more on that to come.) 

Like idiots, we opted for the longer tasting menu--which, while absolutely delicious, was about two courses too long. That having been said, this was by far the best torrija we had on the trip. (It's kinda like a bread pudding made with french toast, but floating in a puddle of something like sweetened cream, and this version was caramelized on the outside. Holy wow.)

The next day began with relatively unstructured wandering-around time, so we headed straight for the Casco Viejo (old town) neighborhood. Here, a nifty wall mural, and a street sign in the rather incredible Basque language, which, interestingly enough, has ancient and somewhat mysterious roots and is not related to any other language in the world. Neat.

There's probably something like a kilometer of painted ceiling in the arcades across from the main market, Mercado de la Ribera.

Next, we took a swing through the Museum of Basque Archaeology, Ethnography, and History, which isn't nearly as large as its name might imply, but has some pretty decent exhibits on local culture. (Most of which aren't labeled in English, but you can mostly get the gist.) In the 17th-century cloisters of the original Jesuit church and school here, you can see the museum's most famous artifact, the Mikeldi idol, carved between the 4th and 2nd centuries BC.

Back outside, strolling around, we came across probably five of these bacalao stores. I know the Italians and the Spanish have this whole salted/dried cod element to their maritime cuisines, but I have never in my life seen as many stores selling only bacalao as I did in Bilbao. So much fish.

The stunning, if tiny, main train station.

We kept seeing this massive concrete thing jutting out over the city, and so I had to track down what it was. This thing is an elevator connecting the center of Bilbao with its Begoña neighborhood high above; it was inaugurated in 1947, and only stopped taking passengers in 2014. I don't really think anyone knows what to do with it now.

The beautiful front of the San Nikolas church, where we met up with Irene, our guide; Ben and Clea, a fun couple from Manchester; and Peter, Diane, and Jane, some very sweet American retirees on a major tour through Spain, for a wonderful, wonderful evening activity:

...a pintxos tour!! (As we learned, pintxos differ from tapas mainly in that they're usually served skewered to a piece of bread--which you actually shouldn't eat if you're serious about your pintxos, 'cause it's really just intended to serve as a plate. Clever.) We started at Sorginzulo, where we were presented with bacalao al pil pil, patatas bravas, and this marvelous creation: a sandwich made of tomato slices with cheese and avocado in the middle...breaded and fried. Yessssssss. (Each stop was paired with a local drink, too, so here we tried out Bizkaia Txakoli, a white wine.)

Next was a stop at the beautiful Victor Montes bar, where we sampled croquettes of squid cooked with squid ink (yummm!!), txistorra filled with Basque chorizo (kinda like chorizo-filled egg rolls), txakoli from Getaria, and gilda--these delicious little skewers of olives, pickled peppers, and anchovies. Fantastic.

On the way to our next stop, we took a stroll through the gorgeous Casco Viejo...

...past the cathedral, decorated with stone seashells to indicate that it's on one of the pilgrimage routes to Santago de Compostela. (We saw these shells on the sidewalks, too, on occasion.)

And then it was time for these absolutely spectacular shrimp and octopus skewers...

...and some of the best calamari I've ever had, and some pimientos de padron, at Berton (where we also tried a rosé from Navarra--really good!). 

Next, a stop at the gorgeous food court in the Mercado de la Ribera, where we shared some idizabal cheese (origin-protected cheese made from the milk of specifically Basque breeds of sheep), sardines, jamon iberico (ok, so, not Basque, but always appreciated), and a couple of bottles of Rioja crianza...

...and then concluded the evening at La Olla with ham croquettes, gulas (shown here--these are actually little pieces of fish shaped to mimic baby eels, which are a prohibitively expensive delicacy--and I can't speak to the eels, but the gulas were delicious!), and a slab of tasty torrija...

...paired with cider, which our lovely and fun and extremely knowledgeable guide Irene showed us how to "break" by pouring it from the greatest distance one's arms can manage. (Not as easy as she makes it look.)**

Post tour, we went for drinks with Ben and Clea, who were traveling for the same reason as us--turns out, Ben's birthday is the same day as Mike's!--and ended up staying out way too late. I paid for it tremendously the next day...but what an absolutely glorious way to spend an evening in Bilbao! No regrets.***

The next day, Mike and I decided to head back to La Ribera for an early lunch...

...ugh, the gorgeousness and abundance of pintxos and olive skewers and little sandwiches make me want to weep!...

...and then it was off to pick up a rental car for the short drive to our next destination: San Sebastian. That place has been on my radar for a good while, and it did not disappoint.

*For me, the most interesting pieces in there were Richard Serra's "The Matter of Time", which is utterly massive; Anselm Kiefer's overwhelming "The Renowned Orders of the Night"; and Gerhard Richter's insanely photorealistic "Seestück" painting. And you're a cold soul if you don't like Jeff Koons' "Tulips," which is not inside, but which I utterly failed to photograph 'cause we took a wrong turn and ended up going out the exit, instead of to see the tulips. Ugh.

**One also pours txakoli from a certain distance over the wine glass, purportedly to help release its slight sparkle and foam it a little. I don't know about all that, but there's definitely some spectacle involved in Basque drinking, and I dig it.

***Shameless plug for the company with which we booked our pintxos tour: I cannot recommend The Best of Basque highly enough. I believe it's just Zach, Irene's husband, whom we did not meet, but was very helpful and patient with all of my questions during the booking process; and Irene, who is a lifelong native of Bilbao and just a delight. (She even gave us suggestions for San Sebastian.) The tour with them was actually one of the cheaper ones I found, but it guaranteed 8 pintxos at 5 bars, drinks included (...a rarity!), and it ended up being more like 12 pintxos with very free-flowing drinks. (I know Irene ordered us a few extra nibbles, and the bars themselves sent out extra wines and pintxos for us to try--so it ended up being a night of complete overindulgence, but also a really great time.)