My palate does not lean towards sweetness but, mysteriously, pastry shops have always been a very important part of the compass I carry with me when I walk around Barcelona.Before being a space where I can sin, the confectionery is for me a zone of mental rest and calm breathing, a universe of scarce novelty, without too much news. In a time when even roscones have benefited from the chemical artifice of new cuisine (we congratulate the geniuses of Hofmann, first-world artists), I return to pastry shops to meet the past; therefore, far from the necessary culinary vanguard that saves Barcelona from boredom, the pastry shops I love are places where my conscience can disguise itself as a tietaand, conservative, I always end up falling into the soft melancholy of some pastry. The choice pricks my soul, because I have always tried to flee from any French custom.But the unquestionable nobility of the croissant defeats meA significant part of my body is made of the savory croissants from Vives bakery on Aragó street. The most perfect, in fact one of the best in Europe, is still the tuna one, followed by the chicken one and, a bit more sloppy, the classic ham and cheese. When I miss the Grid, I go back to the place and devour one on the benches of Rambla de Catalunya, while still being surprised by the number of people you meet on my old street (Cerdà's invention is, in effect, a neighborhood where socialization ends up being obligatory). Since we live in Ciutat Vella, one of the joys of the new enclave is its agglomeration of excellent bakeries. Fortunately, I live surrounded by wonderful croissants like those from La Colmena or Santa Clara. But none of them come close to the insulting spiritual and gustatory perfection of those produced at Brunells bakery.His Holiness Google says that Brunells' croissant is the best in Spain. I don't care about awards, that's all we need, because the perfection of this butter artifact goes beyond any jury. Above all, Brunells is one of the few spaces in Ciutat Vella that has survived the nauseating footprint of mass tourismand to the temptation of excessive modernity in the recipes. Despite having expanded its ancestral space on Princesa street with Montcada (stubbornly erected in this corner since 1852) in order to accommodate all visitors who spend the morning playing the fool at the Picasso, Brunells is still a neighborhood pastry shop, its friendly assistants always address the customer in our language, and the basis of its products continues to be the bible of the country's pastries. In a predatory city increasingly pawed by snobbery, this corner resists change with delicious stubbornness.
In a predatory city increasingly pawed by snobbery, this corner resists change with delicious stubbornness
Brunells' croissant is truly extraordinary, it magically disappears before being ingested, an oxygen bubble with butter, and leaves your mouth numb as if you had brushed your teeth with the Virgin Mary's vaginal fluid. Contravening my history of croissants at Can Vives, I have almost always preferred this artifact without filling, but it must be said that the inventions of the artisans at Brunells (they infuse pistachio, cream with strawberries, cream and even white chocolate into the invention) are a delight. Cakes are not part of my enjoyment, but Brunells' re-elaboration is extraordinary, topping the list with a tremendous lemon pie. I know I sound like a billboard man – what can we do, I'm going through very low times – but it should also be noted that lovers of good bread will find loaves of seeds or nuts that are the best in the neighborhood.
Barcelona is slowly forcing us to take refuge in small comfort zones where the ancestral continues undeterred. In this sense, pastry shops are now much more important than our museums, even more than the magnificent libraries that populate every neighborhood. Brunells' croissant is a reason to get up and visit a space where the nou exalts us and the vell continues to enamor us. Come with moderation, as those of us in the neighborhood still want to feel something similar to the sensation of having some kind of preference.
Add The New Barcelona Post as your preferred Google source for free
