Cordera Asado en Los Caracoles, Barcelona

There is a very quaint restaurant in Barcelona called Los Caracoles (The Snails). It happens to be one of my favorite restaurants. It's probably the most well-known non-tourist restaurant in the Mediterranean. The location is frightfully close to La Rambla but very well hidden. It practically looks like a hole in the wall, like a very simple bar. But - my friends - beyond that bar lies a fabulous spanish kitchen and two or three floors of great restaurant, including a chambre de privé (not mixed up with club privé - another story) for about ten to 12 people.

I entered this holy sanctimony more than twelve years ago, when I lived in Barcelona. One of my classmates, a woman in her late 40's invited me to dine with her and some friends. She told me - in absolute confidence I might add - about this little culinary pearl of hers.

I'd like to remind everyone that Barcelona wasn't just a simple walk in the park back in 1992. The city was still preparing for the olympic games. Tourists and foreigners were recommended to stay away from certain areas like El Barrio Gotic where Los Caracoles is located. ETA - the basque separatist movement - made their entrance by letting several bombs go off in different parts of the city. What can I say, it was exciting times.

That's why this was such an adventure. It was like stepping into the unknown when we left the cab on La Rambla and took our first steps on Calle Escudellers. Locals where standing on both sides of the street, talking and pointing at the foreign crowd. Most of the locals were either homeless or criminals - or both.



Well, over to the great discovery of that evening: El Cordero Asado (The Roasted Lamb). It was the third plate we ordered and it was just fabulous. The meat feel of the bone, the potatoes and the onion was so finely roasted that they melted in my mouth. I just had to order another bottle of wine. I do recall it was a Montecillo Gran Reserva.

Since 1992 I have been a frequent guest at this great restaurant. It's been in business for close to 200 years and I hope I'll help to keep it in business for at least another 50 years. Wouldn't mind having my last supper there.

PS. Let this be a lesson to you kids: Low-carbs and South Beach Diet is nothing more than a marketing scam. The true pleasure and healthy living lies in eating great food in moderation as well as exercising.

The Wine I Enjoy the Most: Castillo de Ygay

Marques de Murrieta Castillo de Ygay Gran Reserve Especial (1989's and 1994's) is one of the most fantastic wines I have ever had the pleasure to drink. I cannot remember the first time I tasted this glorious wine - which I think is a good thing. But it was most likely during one of my visits to my friend Manolo in Barcelona. Manolo was halfway into his PhD when he invited a bunch of us to enjoy his company in the San Francisco of Europe. Well, I think he invited us only once. His company, conversation and energy is exquisite so we kept coming. He did get his PhD but that's another story.

I vaguely remember a craving for roasted lamb and the restaurant Los Caracoles but I'm not really sure. Anyway - the depth of this wonderful wine and it's raspberry, blackberry, earthy and leathery tast overwhelmed me. The wine is a classic Rioja with a excellent texture, an acidity that leaves the palate cleansed and the length is delicious. And it has one of the most beautiful labels I have ever seen (Rothschild included).

I started to buy the 89's when visiting Barcelona during the end of the 90's. It was less than $15 at the airport. Might have even been under $12 factoring in the favorable exchange rate at the time. Oh, I wish I had bought more. This wine is only made in the best years which are few and far between. I currently host about 7 bottles of the 94's in my cellar. I buy them from the Wine Bank in San Diego - a fantastic establishment run buy two brothers. The 94's are about $38 per bottle which is the deal of the century if you compare with a lot of the crap ones that Napa and Sonoma cranks out for $50 a bottle. Hmm, after checking I think we are down to 6 bottles. Well, I need to give them a call to ship another case. As a matter of fact, I should get a few just to save for the future.

The Bodega Marques de Murrieta was founded by Luciano de Murrieta y García-Lemoine. He learned about wines from his uncle Crístobal Pascual de Murrieta, who was a London banker. Luciano bought the Ygay estate in 1872 and his family had the winery until Vicente Cabrián bought it in 1983. They still run it.

I can warm-heartedly recommend this winery. It's in one of the most amazing wine regions in the world and delivers well beyond it's promises.

"Baby Did A Bad Bad Thing"

My familiarity with Chris Isaak's music and performance style was rather nonexistent before last nights concert at the Paul Masson winery in Saratoga. I had heard a few of his songs, most notable "Wicked Games" and "Baby Did A Bad Bad Thing", but that's about it. Oh, another thing: He seemed to be more popular among women than men. He supposedly had some kind of sexy star quality. Whatever.

It's about 8:30pm, the sun is gone and the vineyard is covered in darkness. Chris Isaak walks on stage in a pair of black boots, a pink 50's suit and a steel guitar. His band - mostly middle-aged musicians - are all dressed in black. Smoke is pouring out from under the stage and the winery turns into a colorful, loud rock'n'roll celebration. And there it is. Chris Isaak's voice which sounds like a crying heart on it's highway into the desert. A man alone that needs protection and love. A wounded heart that is dying.

Beyond the lyrical themes of lost love and female deceit lies a brilliant blues and rock legacy. The mixture is intriging and becomes alive with his lonely voice. His performance is captivating as well as his skills as an entertainer. The storytelling between the songs is hilarious and rather provoking. The audience laughs and shrugs it off but the naked truth is already public.

It was a superb evening and I left the concert both entertained and thought provoked as well as a little tipsy from all the wine.

The Best La Bandera in Mexico

When it comes to drinks nationalism is quite comme-il-faut. Most countries have a national drink that has survived the evil prosecution of teetotallers as well as puritans. In Russia it's Vodka, in Japan Sake, in Sweden Schnapps, in France Absinthe, in Brazil Caipirinha and the list goes on.

In Mexico there is a number of interesting drinks and shots. First we have La Tequila which has to be 100% de Agave. It's made in three different kinds: el Blanco, el Reposado and el Añejo. The first is for 10x shots in a rowdy bar close to midnight and the second for sipping Margaritas in the most romantic setting. The third is unique and should be treated with care and tenderness. It's el Añejo. It should be had after a superb meal (I'd say roasted lamb) while smoking a Cohiba Robusto.

The second drink is La Sangrita (from sangre = blod) and comes in two glasses: one shot of tequila (el Blanco) and a glass of spicy tomato juice.

The third and last drink is La Bandera and equal to La Sangrita except for the addition of the third glass which should contain squeezed lime. La Bandera means flag and the three glasses symbolizes the Mexican flag with green, white and red. Enjoying how the different combinations of the lime, tequila and tomato juice is coming together in your mouth is most joyful.

Arriba, abajo, por el centro, por el dentro.

San Francisco: Long Time No See

Saturday morning marks the start of another adventurous weekend in the life of Perin. An early rise and shine followed by a strong cup-a-coffee and some cereal for myself and 1 hour workout at the San Francisco Bay Club for the missus. I still feel tired from the past weeks long working hours while Erin is alive'n'kickin', fully energized and already out the door for the second mission for the weekend: to test drive the new Mini Cooper S. All this before 10am PDT. I'm telling you - what is the world coming too.

My saturday approach differs from my wife's. I'm already thinking about the next cup of java and looking forward to a very tranquil weekend including the regular attributes: wine-drinking, book-reading and cigar-smoking. I've a pretty good feeling that I can convince her. It might cost me a Mini Cooper S though.

The top of the Golden Gate Bridge is now visible through the fog and the sky is April-blue. I can see the Marin Headlands from our bedroom window and am contemplating if I should dust of the MTB and head over for an aggressive run. I decide not to. As much as I need and should work out I feel that this weekend needs to be in honor of good old fashioned hedonism. The kind when you allow yourself to reflect on the good times between every sip of wine and don't hesitate to choose the don'ts over the do's.

I do think reflection and thinking is something very European while execution and decision-making is very American. If you put them both together - like nitro and glycerin - you have something very explosive. But - and this is a helluva but - let's not mix that drink this weekend.

I'm going to try to enjoy our weekend in San Francisco, the first one for quite some time, as if I was a tourist - accidental but not ignorant (i.e. no Fisherman's Wharf crap, Spikey).