In a time, ours, in which everything seems fleeting, provisional or liquid, as Bauman would say, traditional seafood restaurants become an oasis of certainties, a refuge of solid realities. I was thinking about it this weekend, while I slurped the very tasty head of a red prawn. The head waiter of the establishment had tried to tempt us with some splendid lobsters that were wriggling in his hands, but after praising their dimensions, I politely asked him to take them back to the kitchen, waiting for a client with a fuller wallet or a desire to burn their VISA. "There are fewer and fewer of those every day," he replied.
In fact, he confessed to me that his clientele was, literally, dying off, and for that reason, he was especially happy every time a client under 50 walked through the door, even if, instead of ordering lobster, they settled for some beach squid and a portion of red prawn. I told him he was exaggerating, but, glancing around the dining room, I realized that, indeed, the clientele was mostly over seventy-something.
Seafood is expensive, and, resorting to irony, I was tempted to tell him that if there weren't more young people eating at the seafood restaurant, it was because, precisely at that same hour, most of them were demonstrating in the city streets against abusive rents. Which is to say that a large part of the country's youth barely has enough to pay for a small apartment, often shared, let alone consider treating themselves to fresh fish and seafood. But the same argument should apply to Michelin-starred creative cuisine restaurants, and yet, these are full and have waiting lists.
The seafood restaurant is a luxury from another time, when life's great triumphs were celebrated with a good seafood platter. In them, businessmen held Christmas dinners, Barça players celebrated sports victories, and even the humble would go, somewhat self-conscious, if that week they had had a stroke of luck and hit a 14 in the pools. The seafood restaurant par excellence is the famous Botafumeiro where, months ago, the director, Juan Jesús Pérez Alonso, served, with a spoon, directly into David Beckham's mouth some very expensive elvers. The scene, of course, went viral.
Of course, not all seafood restaurants in Barcelona have the lavishness of Botafumeiro. There are more modest ones, but with equally excellent products. Establishments like La Barca del Pescador, with a bar very popular with regular patrons, where some sit for a while just to chat and snack on some freshly fried small fish, accompanied by a glass of Albariño. Or Montalban del Poble Sec, a small and modest seafood restaurant; it's hard to find, but it serves scampi so delicious they'll make you cry.
"The service in these establishments is in perfect harmony with the dishes on a typical, honest, and unpretentious menu"I said, at the beginning, that traditional seafood restaurants are an oasis of certainties or a refuge of solid realities, precisely because they have remained practically immutable to the transformations experienced by the restaurant sector over recent years. Here there is no place for foams and spherifications served on volcano-shaped plates by tattooed waiters with influencer pretensions. Seafood is served raw, steamed, or grilled. Mainly, accompanied by lemon and, at most, garlic and parsley.
It goes without saying that the service in these establishments is in perfect harmony with the dishes on a typical, honest, and unpretentious menu: cooks and waiters with many years of experience who have ended up creating an almost familial bond with a loyal and, therefore, regular clientele. And what about the crockery and tablecloths that adorn their tables? All very classic and traditional, without fanfare, not to say old, worn, often even a bit cheesy, which, far from repelling, has the appeal of authenticity.
In a city that always prides itself on being modern like ours, let's celebrate that there are still extemporaneous establishments like these.