Ranking: 17/20
It is located on N637 at Exit 25.
This restaurant in the Spanish Basque country has been awarded three Michelin stars in 2013. Chef and co-owner Eneko Atxa is in his early 30s and has worked both at Mugarritz and Etxebarri. His uncle is the largest proprietor of Txakolin in the Basque region, Gorka Izagirre. The “eagle’s nest” in which Azurmendi is located, is above the winery, perched atop a hill and surrounded by vineyards, cypress trees, and rolling hills in the horizon. Had it not been for the motorway below, which hurts your eyes and detracts from the aesthetic pleasure, one would have been tempted to call the location heavenly.
The setting has the trappings of new style rustic elegance which must have influenced the run of the mill, eco friendly, hotel school graduate, Michelin inspector. The reception area is wide and long, and one is invited to take a tour of the kitchen, while savoring the first set of amuses. We requested to leave the kitchen tour to the end of the meal, but enjoyed our tiny bits in the reception area, which reminded me of a contemporary nursery with the sophisticated addition of a postmodern wooden sculpture.
I am not particularly interested in kitchen tours, and I was dismayed to observe that they did not have a wood fire grill, but did have a sous vide machine. The overall look of the kitchen was very hygienic, bordering on sterile. On the other hand, we enjoyed visiting the orchard which was situated on the top floor of the building. The orchard was planted with an impressive array of fresh herbs and vegetables, even though very few of them featured on our plates. (It was December 1st.)
This said, like 90% of the Michelin loved and Restaurant Magazine’s judges’ favorite eateries, herbs and flowers play a prominent role in Azurmendi’s cuisine. In other words, compositions on the plate are such that, to quote my friend Robert Brown, “visual aspects are derived not from the main products themselves, but from flower petals, herbs, eye droppers, and paint brushes…”
Robert Brown also notes that “fine dining is being turned into a pursuit in which the cuisines of countries, let alone regions, have virtually become unrecognizable because of sous vide cooking; [and] many course tasting menus…”. I can’t generalize as easily about tasting menus, but I could not agree more about the sous vide cooking. For instance, both of the main courses which we have tried, the suckling pig and the pigeon, despite the sophisticated plating and molecular techniques, left a lot to be desired. That is, these dishes were not inedible, but they did not have the depth and richness one expects from a three macaroon restaurant using top quality ingredients. The day before we had had an amazing multi-course meal at Etxebarri, and the finishing touch was an awesome woodcock dish. When I mentioned this to chef Eneko, who came across as a very modest and genuinely nice fellow, he confessed to me that he did not know how to handle woodcock/becada. After further conversing with him I understood that he considers the a la brasa method, however subtle and nuanced it is, as is the case at Etxebarri, not suitable for a top end destination. He thinks that dishes cooked a la brasa lack refinement. This is strange because I think the very opposite. For example, Etxebarri’s cooking brings out the taste of the great ingredients, whereas sous vide eliminates textural differences between and within categories ( I am talking about meat) in favor of a cloth-like soft and UNIFORM texture.
At the same time I enjoyed the restaurant. Eneko’s cuisine, for the most part, does not fall into the no men’s land about which Mr. Brown is rightly complaining. Eneko uses very good ingredients. The cooking is, for the most part, clear and focused and not unnecessarily complex. Had somebody taken me, eyes closed, to Azurmendi, I would probably have guessed that I was in Spain, but I may not have guessed that it was a restaurant in the Basque region of Spain.
The amuses that my wife and I tried standing up in the reception area set the tone for the whole meal. They were a mixed bag, ranging from fussy and forced to the sublime. The hibiscus infusion with rose petals and beets could not have been more international in style such that you can find anywhere. The so-called Txakoli balls with orange and spicy pepper, was a take on local specialties, given a boost by Adria’s signature morphing technique that is a sine qua non of being called “creative” by today’s standards. Peanuts with wild mushrooms and foie gras came across as bizarre, displaying an urge to be original, but somehow misguided. But the house smoked anchovies were superb, reminiscent of Nardin’s anchovies that can be found in Getaria, a truly local and amazing taste sensation. (They should be paired with a Txakolin from Getaria, like Etxaniz).
We were ushered to the dining room with a smile and given a table by the window, overlooking the scenery. As you might expect, the building is all glass and steel (or is it titanium?), with large windows, designed to conserve energy and to maximize light. It is not necessarily rustic or warm, but rather it is sleek and elegant and a bit cold.
Our English speaking and competent captain was a little tense in the beginning of the meal. When he gave me the wine list, I searched for soothing names which I thought would match the food, like Emilio Rojo and Do Fereiro (cepas vellas), but they did not have my favorite Spanish whites. Our waiter, who may or may not be the sommelier, offered to serve wine by the glass for every single course. I have had some bad experiences with this type of arrangement, but I acquiesced.
Anyway, this arrangement turned out to be quite OK, as we had some nice surprises and made new discoveries. Our captain, who apparently has a British parent, listened and tailored his offerings to suit my expectations. The conversation about wine established a bond between us. Over the course of the meal our captain became more easy going and friendly.
This said, I still think that Azurmendi needs a better wine list, more suited to his type of cuisine. One should think beyond the borders and the chardonnay grape and investigate mineral-driven and lean white wines. German Rieslings, Austrian Rieslings and GV, Italian whites from Etna, Chenin blanc and Muscadet from France, treasures from the Savoy and Jura, and Assyrtiko from Greece, are some of the obvious choices that should be exploited.
The first two courses expounded on the theme set by amuses. Firstly, we had morcilla, boudin noir or blood sausage, with red bean puree, which was sublime. Secondly, we had slow cooked farm egg yolk infused with a black truffle essence placed on a spoon and served with a potato cone with shaved truffle. I know others will rave about this, but this is merely clever and tasty, but not on par with great egg/Alba truffle concoctions one may find in Piemonte.
A special nod is deserved for the farm house steamed milk bread they served at the beginning of the meal.
We paired these small bits with Gorka Izagirre Bizkaiko Txakolina. It did not work. The wine did not have the material to stand up to richly flavored dishes.
The next course was perhaps the most complex of all, but not satisfactory. It was one of these dishes with oysters, this time Gillardeau, where the chef did not know how and when to stop adding new elements, and kept on playing with textures, while trying to “wow” you with the presentation. Some seaweed is “de rigueur,” and the chef should prove his “creativity” by morphing. Chef Eneko built rocks out of mussel juice plus chemicals. Why not? Then he needed some “terre” component to wow Michelin inspectors, which was iodinated tea mushrooms (tremella) cooked in sea water. This was fine, but it did not match with the oysters. Then he added oyster leaves and seaweed and fried sea anemones. He also added nettles and salicorne (which worked with the oyster). Last but not least, he presented the dish “creatively”. Welcome liquid nitrogen! One waiter who looked uncomfortable approached the table with a big platter, poured a liquid and burned it, sending seawaves and shockwaves to our brains and eyes and nostrils. We inhaled the aroma and registered what the menu meant by saying that this course had “natural aromas from the sea.”
Our captain served some Oriol Rossell, D.O. Penedes with this fussy dish. I don’t have a positive or negative memory of this.
But I liked very much the second serving of homemade spelt bread.
The next course, however, was very good and very satisfactory. It was marinated mackerel fish with an infusion of spring flowers and tomato plant water, chive mayonnaise, and a garlic chip. This dish struck us as minimalist and inspired by Japan, very much in the ball park of the chef, and the type of dish I like very much when chef Kinch of Manresa interprets Japanese cuisine.
The wine pairing also went up by two to three notches with this dish. We tried an Albarino called Envidia Cochina (meaning Poisonous worms of envy, we were told). This wine possessed that grassy and iodine character I associate with the best of Rias Baixas and enhanced the purity of the dish.
From the clean flavors of the excellent mackerel we were transported to the rich flavors of very good foie gras. Foie gras in Ashes was like a wafer covered by ashes (also made of duck liver and perhaps root vegetables), and filled with rich and smooth duck foie gras. Perhaps the transition from a subtle flavor to an aggressive and rich flavor was too sudden, but I still enjoyed this dish. I know it is politically incorrect to say I love foie gras, but I do and never miss the opportunity to have it when it is this good. It is too bad that you cannot find good foie gras in morally uptight America. It is even banned in California.
This is the first time in my dining experiences that foie gras was matched with a Txakolina. It was a late harvest Txakolina aged in oak barrels: Bizkaiko Txakolina “Arima,” from the property. I was skeptical, but it all worked out fine. The unique Txakolina imparted a fresh, playful component to the intense foie gras and helped to refreshen our palates.
Unfortunately the next course was disappointing: the “earth tea service.” It had some kind of mushroom bouillon, a tea-like infusion with herbs and dried mushrooms, and was served like Chinese tea. Was the chef trying to capture “umami”? Was this his interpretation of some Japanese dish? Was he trying to serve a course saluting the Japanese tradition of having a dish capture the essence of the season (fall mushrooms), as Japanese chefs do in the middle of kaiseki meals? Does he have a particular bias for earthy flavors, ashes and dried, pulverized mushrooms, and tannic tea?
Even the intriguing Txakolina from the house, G22, which is a complex and very satisfactory expression of this underappreciated variety (made from local grapes which change from one terroir to another), could not make this dish palatable. I savored my wine and tried not to overburden my palate with the excessively tannic/earthy flavors of the course.
This was a good decision because the next three courses turned out to be outstanding.
I would call the marinated deer loin a triumph. I give it 20/20. There were four components to this dish: marinated and raw wild deer loin, chestnuts, cacao leaves, and roasted sweet potato ice cream. A pure infusion of cooking juices was served in a cup, and thankfully, not poured over the dish.
It was this dish that was the essence of the late fall season for me. All components blended beautifully. Another homemade fresh loaf was served with it, this time a corn bread. Being familiar with great corn breads from the Black Sea region of Turkey and Georgia, I was impressed.
Unfortunately I was less than impressed by the wine matching with this dish. It was an average Viognier from Spain, Vallegarcia Viognier, D.O. Fernando de Castilla. This was not too fruity, which is a good thing, but it lacked the depth to match the deep flavors of the dish.
The next course, however, turned out to be another 20/20 dish. Moreover the (fortified) wine selection was perfect this time. How can one help but feel ecstatic?
However, reading the English description of the dish, one would feel rather miserable, instead of any feeling that one associates with ecstasy: “Salted stew: vegetables, anchovies and iberics with Idiazabal cream cheese balls.”
Maybe they did not want to scare the macaroon chasers. The gelatinous broth turned out to be decadent pig trotter. Fresh green asparagus cut some richness, the salted anchovies added extra richness, and the smokiness of the Idiazabal cream encapsulated some of the nuances Victor of Etxebarri imparts to his unimitatable vegetables.
This course reminded me of the cuisine of early Mugarritz, where Eneko was sous chef, and before the gifted and intelligent Aduriz went through some soul searching and metamorphosed his cuisine into a purely conceptual and consciously provocative enterprise.
Palo Cortado, Fernando de Castilla was the right match for this course as it enhanced and prolonged the pleasure.
Then another excellent dish and another great match followed. This was not only the right match, but a great wine: 1998 Vina Tondonia from the Viura grape. I guess there is also %10 Malvasia in the wine. Lopez de Heredia makes truly unique wines, and albeit the Viura was supposed to be the French Macabeo, I never remember having a noteworthy Macabeo. I also don’t know of any other complex white Rioja from Viura. Somehow this wine reminds me of Savagnin and Vin Jaune from Jura. I believe it would have been more appropriate with the marinated deer loin if one stuck only to Spanish wines.
But the salmonetes/rouget/triglia served with this wine also worked. I don’t like the translation of salmonetes which is called red mullet in English. Rock rouget is one of the great flavors of the sea, especially when it is fresh. I have no idea what kind of fish “red mullet” is. At any rate the salmonetes were grilled and slightly smoked, and this was an amazing variation on the classic “al ajillo.” Eneko served the dish with tortellini of garlic and the fish’s liver. The slightly garlicky broth made from the fish bones added extra depth.
I don’t want to dwell on our main courses as I have already mentioned that the sous vide cooking did not do justice to both the cochinillo and the pigeon. I noted some hazelnut mousse and crumbles, tripes inside something, duxelle mushrooms with foie gras, cheese balls shaped like a rock but oozing cream, with the baby pigeon. Somehow these components did not quite come together. Likewise the baby pig was less interesting in itself than its accompaniments: Iberian noodles with porc skin and ham jus and the natural sweet pumpkin puree.
One wine that was served with these dishes was merely OK: 2011 Almirez from the Toro cepage. This is more of an international style, over extracted wine, which seems destined to please internationally known wine critics. The other wine, 2001 Rioja Alta’s 904, made from old tempranillo vines in Rioja, turned out to be still fresh, juicy and vibrant, with spicey red fruit notes, delicate tannins, fine acidity, and an earthy, decomposing fungus-like, medium-long finish. This wine would be a good match with classic suckling pig and lamb, cooked whole and slowly in a traditional wood fire oven.
We turned down our waiter’s offer for a dessert wine and sampled the four desserts which were brought successively: chestnuts with vine shoot scent (smoked); red fruit and cheese croissant with egg yolk; tarte tatin with almonds and fresh almond paste; rose, i.e rose shaped chocolate with citrus cream and cherry ice cream.
All of the desserts were good, but not on par with the more simple but extraordinary desserts served at Etxebarri or the cheese cake of Zuberoa. None achieved greatness, but I will never turn down a version of Tarte Tatin with fresh almonds, a slightly smoky taste and appetizing natural apples.
Overall, despite the uneven cooking and some misconceived dishes, we would like to go back because the best dishes, about a third of the “Adarrak Menu”, are intriguing, and they do reach culinary heights. My wife and I rarely frequent three macaroon restaurants in the Basque region of Spain, but I found Azurmendi to be worth another visit. It is a better restaurant than the other three three macaroon restaurants nearby: Arzak (a shadow of what it was in the ‘90s), Akelarre (Subiana is a nice man but he is treading waters for which he is not cut out ), Berasatagui (Martin is a great chef but he cooked his best when he had two macaroons).
I have no idea in which direction Atxa will evolve. Chances are that he would like to be more widely known and successful and make to the top whatever of the 50 best list. This is the likely scenario as forces pulling in that direction are too strong.
But I hope not. He really has the fortunate combination of talent, passion, and the means to achieve greatness.