My name is Constantí Bru. A barceloní by birth, I am taller than most of my fellow country-men, some might call me large. I prefer ‘generously proportioned’.
A food and wine writer I began my travels with Marie; however, I felt the need to eliminate her after the first paragraph. It is distinctly easier to travel by oneself. One can stop and start as one chooses, put one’s feet up on the dashboard for some shut eye, comfortably pass gas should the need arise and follow the wind where it chooses to take you. These are the stories of my travels; I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.
April , Alella
Celler Jordana
Spring is showing her gentle face as I drive along the coastal road towards Alella. In the distant fields, clouds of pink-white almond blossoms compete with the vibrant yellow of mimosa trees. Greenhouses shelter future crops of fragrant ‘maduixes’ juicy, plump strawberries indigenous to the area and the ‘perla verda del Maresme’ sweet tiny green peas in season at this time of the year, often served with botifarra and mint or in a tasty broth with a poached egg.
I park under a solitary tree not bothering to lock my old Ford. The restaurant is just around the corner. The small terrace of Celler Jordana is full of people enjoying l’hora del vermut or an early lunch. ‘The oldest restaurant in the area that started off as a colmado’ , my guidebook had informed me over breakfast. I push open the door.
Inside it is dim, my eyes take a few moments to adjust. I look around. On both sides of the shop, dark wooden shelves are stacked with rows of wine bottles. My heart beats a little faster as I take in the wine labels. Clos Martinet 2017, Castillo de Ygay 2010, Recaredo Corpinnat, international wines Bollinger Special Cuvée or Sextant Bourgogne Chardonnay 2018. The local Alella wines are on full display, Tallarol 2019, Testuan 2017, Cau d’en Genís 2019. In a corner, near the shop window, a little fridge hums silently to itself. Through the misty glass I spy a creamy Brie, a blue veined Stilton, a Molitinero threaded with truffle and a La Retorta Finca Pascualete, a silky gooey cheese best eaten with a spoon. On the shelves beside the cheeses, shiny jars of preserves and jams sit beside oils and vinegars, there are vacuum packed parcels of all manner of charcuterie.
Behind the tiny bar, the owners Manel and Carme and the young waitress are hard at work. They look up and smile ‘Bon dia! I nod in reply. Manel leads me up the two steps to my table. It takes me a few minutes to work out how to sit on the high metal chair without sliding off. You must push your legs against the large barrel that is your table, once you figure that out, it is perfectly comfortable. The restaurant is small, with a view of the shop. Another four or five barrels serve as tables. Suspended securely above my head, several more barrels lie on their side, interlaced with fairy lights that give off a soft glow.
I ask Manel to recommend a local wine from Alella. He brings me a bottle of Cau d’en Genis 2019. The wine is crisp and light with a slight minerality and hints of white fruit. I look down at my cell phone, a message from Tomás tells me that his mother has gone missing again. I turn off my phone.
The wine combines perfectly with my artichoke and anchovy tartare served with toast. The tartare is tangy, creamy, and slightly smoky, truly delicious. Following my tartare is a coca d’escalivada i foie. A thin layer of grilled red peppers and eggplant is topped with caramelized foie, all on a crispy coca; the combination is perfect and the portion just right. And now for the star of the day, bikini de porchetta i tofona (slow-roasted pork belly and truffle). This is nothing like the typical white sliced bread of a common Bikini. I bite into the bread, it is crusty, buttery and the porchetta is succulent, rich, juicy and pull apart tender. Meat juices dribble down my chin, I wipe them away impatiently and take a refreshing mouthful of chilled wine. Although the restaurant is full, the service is relaxed and attentive. For dessert I have a creamy coconut ice cream and a serving of carquinyolis (almond cookies) washed down with a sweet red wine, ‘Dolç de mataró’. Manel comes over to chat. He and his wife have been owners of the restaurant for over nine years now. ‘Tornaré aviat,’ I promise to come back soon as I pay the bill and walk out into the spring sunshine to my gallant Ford. I put my feet up on the dashboard and close my eyes for a restoring siesta.
Alta Alella, wine cellar
The heavy grey metal door clangs shut behind me as I let myself into the Alta Alella wine cellar. ‘El camí de l’esquerra’ a voice over the intercom instructs me to take the left path up to the main building. I take in the view as I stroll along the dirt path. On either side, immaculately kept vineyards stretch up to the hills and down to the glimmering sea. I am met at the wooden stairs by Imanol, our guide for the afternoon. He is young and knowledgeable and gives us a small introductory chat about the wine cellar Alta Alella. The cellar is run by the Pujol-Busquets Guillén family, Josep María and Cristina and their daughter Mireia together with a close-knit team of skilled workers. Their 52 hectares of vines are planted in sauló (a type of granite soil)typical of the Alella DO. Whilst a large part of the grapes is the indigenous grapes Pansa Blanca (xarel.lo) white and Mataró (Monastrell, Mourvèdre) red, they are at the same time experimenting with new grape varieties VRIAACC, that adapt better to climate change. They also have Chardonnay, Syrah, Pinot noir, Macabeu and Garnatxa negra. All their wines are organic.
Just outside the vineyards lies the ‘Celler dels Aus’ where the natural wines of the wine cellar are produced. The names of the wines are the different bird’s native to the area.
Imanol leads us down the stairs towards the vineyards. Fortunately, it is not too steep, I am able to keep up with the group without losing face. We walk through the romantically named ‘Vall de cireres’ valley of the cherries, a former river, as Imanol explains how each vine is carefully tended and pruned. Delicate green buds are making their first appearance, peeking out from among the vines’ gnarled bodies. Our guide then leads us to the building where fermentation and ageing takes place. On the right, large stainless-steel deposits hold up 5.000 litres. Behind these on the other side of the wall and in perfect formation lie the 225 litre French oak barrels. To my left are grey, clay, egg-shaped vessels and amphorae made out of the granite soil of the vineyards. Nearby is the cellar where the bottled wines are kept. Most of these are ‘cavas’ the sparkling wine of Catalunya. The space is quiet and almost ethereal. Row upon row of bottles lie in silent harmony, undergoing the magical process of turning a still wine into a sparkling one.
The tour is over, and we head back to the terrace. Imanol brings out the bottles of wines for our tasting. Against the backdrop of the Mediterranean Sea in the distance we watch as he expertly opens the first bottle, a cava made with the experimental grapes. The wine is brilliant and golden in colour, crisp and welcoming. There are hints of citrus on the palate and a slight minerality. Next up a Laietà Rose, gran reserva Brut nature 2017, made with the Mataró grape. It is deliciously pink, creamy, an explosion of tiny, happy bubbles that fill your mouth with hints of raspberry. We then open the Cau d’en Genis (Pansa blanca) , the same white I had at Celler Jordana. For some reason, up here, surrounded by the vineyards, it tastes even better. A 2016 Red Orbus (Syrah) gives us a few barnyard aromas followed by red fruit and a hint of vanilla and finally we taste the sweet Dolç Mataró 2019 (Mataró) which gives us fig, orange peel and violets. The tannins are balanced and provide a satisfying finish.
After purchasing several bottles and saying my goodbyes I walk slowly back to my car. The afternoon sun is gentle on my back, a thin layer of dust has settled on the boot of my Ford, in the distance a bird calls out to its partner. I must remember to call Marie when I get home.
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