Sojourn: 71. San Sebastian

Almost everyone going to Mugaritz gets lost.

The first time that we were lucky enough to get a booking here, we used the GPS co-ordinates supplied by the restaurant and found ourselves in a paddock on the top of a nearby hill.

This time we managed better. There was a sign at the most confusing of the three intersections.

The property was looking superb. Recent summer rains had given everything a green boost.

The herb and edible flowers garden next to the kitchen was booming and the pink dahlias in particular were magnificent.

Our very long lunch began on the terrace. Each party had their own outdoor area for the day. They have 16 tables inside and 16 settings outside, we were told, with plenty of space in between.

We began with a glass of cava, the Spanish equivalent to champagne, together with a bottle of chilled sparkling water and a damp cloth warmed on a hot stone.

Paul has a photographic record of all of the matched wines we enjoyed - let him know if you are interested.

On leaving the restaurant, we were given a copy of the menu in English. The translation loses a lot of the passion and eloquence of the original Spanish/Basque. I will use the translated title for each dish and add a little description of what it tasted like.

We began with 'Comb and coral biscuit' which was like chewy, dried chicken skin sandwiched together with minced prawn. Very tasty.

Marine cold cuts. The highlight was a most beautifully plump, tasty and warm mussel with a very mild mayonnaise and a nasturtium leaf. In the centre, an anchovy (sardine) stuffed with tomato and parsley, and below, a square of marinated cuttlefish (squid) with an olive tapenade.

Steaming empanada. Empanadas are very Spanish and are usually filled with things like cheese or well cooked meat to make a type of pie. This empanada was hot, crisp, as light as air and to be filled with the clarified pork fat on the little bamboo paddle to the side.

Stew of crunchy suckling pig with wild sorrel. An absolutely stunning hollow cylinder of transparent pork crackling stuffed with pulled or stewed pork. Wow! And how good is wild sorrel?

Confit of razor clams. The name must be an oxymoron because confit means 'cooked slowly in its own fat' and razor clams have no fat whatsoever. Be that as it may, razor clams are incredibly delicate and delicious - so were these, dusted with paprika and the finest dice of preserved lemon.

Gelatinous salmon mille-feuille. One of the few instances where presentation was unbecoming of the dish. This is the skin of a salmon fillet, rolled into a cylinder, coated lightly with tempura batter, deep fried and offered with creme-fraiche and dill. Stunning!

Salting of ashes: orchids and ferns. It was definitely fern and although my piece was a little stringy, the flavour was good but unidentifiable. Pobably not worth the effort that went into developing it.

This was the last of the finger food entrees on the terrace.

We have moved inside now because cutlery is required for the next selection of dishes.

Like most buildings in this part of the world, the woodwork is dark and the decor somewhat sombre. On our first visit we sat at a table on the other side with our backs to the window - so this is a whole different perspective, being able to see the garden.

The first photograph inside foretells the problem I am going to have with the lighting - but never mind.

Mousse of cream and stone crab. The instructions were to turn the bowl over and eat with the spoon. Very delicate creamy crab with an exquisite taste. But the spoon? - surely they had something more delicate to eat it with.

Clams and dahlias. Lightly pickled dahlia flowers used to ceviche two equally delicate, juicy clams. These are the dahlias I spotted in the garden.

From San Sebastian we are heading to the province of Galicia, in the far north-west of Spain where all of this fabulous seafood comes from.

Tomatoes with an animal and vegetal dressing. Tomato is a traditional summer dish all over the world. The tomato was skinless and had been marinated, one assumes in the 'animal and vegetal'. I didn't recognise the herbs.

This dish was not on the menu list, so I assume it was a test dish, one that was 'under development'. Well, don't bother! The base was a minced seafood of some type and the 'grass' was actually growing out of it. Awful! (I can't believe that Paul liked it.)

Oily fish, beetroot and horseradish. Here was the local mackerel, rich and beautiful but the sauce was a little too sweet for my liking. Overall though, it was superb.

This dish was called Bovis maxima: via la France! A crisp wafer made of beef jus and sandwiched in between was succulent beef and bone marrow. But somehow, eating a beef sandwich in your fingers is not as satisfying as eating the same components with a knife and fork.

Grilled fish and beef essence. This dish tasted fine but the delicate fish seemed to be overwhelmed by the dressing of green capsicum.

Ail glacé. Oh yum, confit of garlic with toast and tarragon. Oh, yum!

Beef candy. No comment. Paul had two.

Eucalyptus smoked loin lamb with its cultivated wool. Beautifully cooked and presented but I didn't like it. It seemed to have lost its traditional sweet lamb taste and the 'wool thing' on top was not identifiable as food. Not a winner with me.

The lamb was served with whisky and iced water. Not a taste I liked, but the charming American on the next table thought it a great match.

An invitation to visit the kitchen, where you had to be very quick with the camera to get a shot, it was all moving so quickly.

When we said we were from Dan Hunter's end of the world, some of his old friends came out to say hello.

Hi, Dan!

The cheese. Talking about winners - here's one. It came wrapped in a muslin cloth.

Cheese at three ages of maturity - 3, 6 and 9 months. There was no bread served with the meal except for this cheese course.

Outside on the terrace once more, the next plate was called Toffee and parsnip cake. That is grated cheese on top so you know it is going to be more than just parsnip and toffee. I couldn't eat mine - too cloying in the mouth, neither salty nor sweet. We found out later it was made with some type of deep sea fish. It was the only dish about which we were asked our opinion. I wished they had asked me about the clump growing the grass - yuk!

Peanut. Peanut ice-cream, peanuts roasted, peanuts whole, peanuts crushed. Just peanuts.

Neapolitan ice cream. Another crazy concoction that didn't quite hit the mark because it was so far reduced it was unrecognisable as food. Tasted fine though - strawberry, vanilla and chocolate - but .......

Plum roasted in its second skin. A winner here though - it is just what it claims to be - roasted plum with crushed macadamia. Lovely!

And finally we have made it to the end of our magnificent lunch as long shadows move across the terrace.
This is The seven deadly sins. Each layer of the wooden puzzle contains a chocolate interpretation of a deadly sin. This is the Mugaritz signature dish.