An example of when the intimacy of home cooking becomes the constriction of a dysfunctional family. The two sisters who run this restaurant assume the mantle of aunt or at least old family friend but not in the paradigmatic friendly, spoiling way. Instead, they are the commanding, demanding types.
To start our meal, I requested a wine list. Looking through it, and not very informed about Spanish wines or those on the list, I randomly chose a Ribera Del Duero. The sister that is the waiter (the other is the chef) was incredulous. Why would I choose a Ribera Del Duero when this is a Rioja restaurant, she asked in a patronizing and somewhat mocking tone. Cowed, I agreed to her selection. I was too put off by her imperious tone to question why such an offending selection was even possible and on the menu.
We were similarly guided through the food choices with verbal slaps on the wrist at asking for two egg dishes as one of several examples.
However, while we very much universally enjoyed some of the dishes - including white asparagus with egg and Iberico ham and some of us enjoyed the rich if too salty squid stew and taste-of-the-sea red shrimp croquetas - not too surprisingly, forced (strongly encouraged) to take some dishes we had not wanted, we did not enjoy them fully or finish them fully - leaving half of the overly salty bacala and half of the overly rich lamb sweetbreads. In most normal restaurants, even very intimate ones, leaving half of your ninth and tenth dishes unfinished would have provoked no more than a simple question of whether everything was ok, to which an answer that we were simply full would have been accepted.
Not so in this household! No, the waiter sister simply refused to clear the unfinished dishes even as we continually told her at each pass she made to the table that we were finished (hoping she would clear them to provide more space). We had thought she hadn't understood us, but eventually she made it clear that she was worried what her sister would think. What!?!?? And clearly, she was worried for us.
Why she was worried became apparent two seconds after she finally cleared the dishes. The sister cook came out and loudly confronted us, asking, "WHAT, YOU DIDN'T LIKE MY COOKING?" The other two tables stared at us. We had to explain that we were full (honesty in this situation seemed more likely to lead to irrational violence by elderly chefs that we were willing to risk.). Needless to say, we won't be back. read more