William Sitwell joins a pair of tapas-loving siblings
as they pay homage to Catalonia on a return
visit to Barcelona, the city that inspired them to
set up their award-winning restaurant.
They do things differently in the food world. Take interviews, for example. In normal life, the prospective employee arrives, dressed in a suit, and is then cross-examined by a panel in a dull meeting room. If he or she is lucky, they might be offered a glass of water.
When restaurateur Sam Hart was looking for a chef
for his Spanish tapas restaurant, Fino, he 'interviewed'
Jean-Phillipe Patruno, who was the successful candidate,
by eating an 18-course lunch at Jean-Phillipe's then place of work, London restaurant Simply Nico.
I learn this as I witness another example of how people in the food world do things differently. While, for some, research consists of poring over data in a darkened room, Sam and his younger brother and restaurant co-owner, Eddie, hop on a plane to Barcelona and eat themselves stupid for 48 hours.
Data analysis, as part of this particular research module,
is taking place this lunchtime at Ca l'Isidre, which serves
traditional Spanish fare. It's a Barcelona institution populated by suited types and is, apparently, the King of Spain's favourite restaurant. But before we collate the findings it's important to understand the terms of reference. These were set, very strictly, by Sam Hart as he strode out of the airport on arrival that morning.
"We will now change to Spanish time," he announced. "That means we'll have lunch at 2.30pm and will not have dinner before nine."
Back at the favourite lunch spot of Juan Carlos Alfonso Víctor María de Borb�n y Borb�n-Dos Sicilias, the boys are wolfing down a plate of pa am tomaquet.
"You see this dish of bread and garlicky tomatoes whenever there's a glut," says Sam. Alongside their food they're sipping a refreshing
manzanilla called Bodega Lustau. Eddie leans over to congratulate the matronly maître 'd on the bone-dry sherry.
"It's mine. My husband owns the bodega," she replies. "But it's not an investment, it's an involvement of the heart."
The next food that arrives at the table looks like the toes of a small dinosaur. But they are, in fact, Galician barnacles, delicacies harvested by perceberos, who risk their lives by scaling cliffs with ropes round their tummies as harsh waves lash the Atlantic shoreline of northwestern Spain. Then comes a typical Catalan dish; a hearty stew of cuttle fish and artichokes, the kind of thing usually cooked in the home. This is succeeded by pasta with truffles, plates of tripe, baby lamb's brains and baby goat – all consumed with gusto.
The sherry is followed by Spanish Chardonnay, which, in turn, is succeeded by a red Galician wine. By now, we're on to pudding (chocolate fondant), which is followed by cheese, before – just for the hell of it – our brandy balloons are filled with a pink drink called pacharan; sloe anise on the rocks.
The Hart brothers, not seemingly weighed down by either food or beverage, wave a fond goodbye to the owners and set about walking around their favourite foreign city. They need to create a little space for dinner tonight at Cal Pep, always a highlight of any trip to the city. For this was the place that inspired them to open Fino.
"We've flown to Barcelona before just to have lunch at Cal Pep," says Sam. But, just for a moment, the boys
ponder the city's non-edible facets. Barcelona has more buildings designated as UNESCO World Heritage sites than either Paris or Florence, and the city's planners, over the years, have never shied away from erecting contemporary buildings next to – or even within – older ones.
Thus the city combines Roman and Gothic structures with Art Nouveau and the work of Antoni Gaudí. Born
just down the coast in the town of Reus in 1852, Gaudí's
sensuous, curving, surreal work can be seen throughout the city. There's the twisting, bony façade and equally peculiar interior of Casa Batll� on Passeig de Gràcia, for instance, or the grand and extravagant temple of Sagrada Família.
"I have mixed feelings about Gaudí," says Sam, as we gaze up at the skull-like balconies of Casa Batll�. "Some of it I love and some of it's terrible."
Soon, we are walking through medieval alleyways, with houses teetering on either side, the rooms of which never, surely, see much daylight. Then we find ourselves on Las Ramblas, the city's most famous street, filled with tourists who sit in cafés or watch the clowns, musicians and human statues. But the Harts haven't come to gawp at silver-painted men on plinths. Las Ramblas is home to La Boqueria, the city's finest market. Housed beneath a vaulted glass-and-iron roof are stalls selling every conceivable foodstuff.
"I lived in Barcelona for a while a few years back," says Sam, "and every morning I'd walk the 45 minutes from my flat to buy something here to cook for lunch. Everything is awesome, whether it's the winkles, clams, lettuce or lamb. But coming here now is frustrating. If we had a market like this in London, our restaurant would be just amazing."
Even so, Fino, which opened in London's Charlotte Street in 2003 has won many plaudits for its high-quality tapas. Sam, 30, and Eddie, 28, were brought up in the restaurant industry. Their father, Tim, owns the successful Hambleton Hall hotel in Rutland and Harts restaurant in Nottingham, and both boys were sucked into his business.
Holidays, however, were spent in Majorca, where their mother, Stefa, was brought up, and it was these childhood experiences that inspired the brothers' love of Spanish food.
"I think we'd always wanted to work together," says Eddie, "so when Sam, who had dallied with opening nightclubs and bars for a bit while I was still working for my father, suggested the idea of Fino, I leapt at it."
There's another brother, too. James is 22 and still at
university, where he is studying history of art.
"He occasionally says he would like to join us," says Sam, adding cautiously, "but it's an arrangement that might suit him more than us." So while Sam looks after the money side of the business, Eddie handles the service. And both of them deal with the food. Speaking of which, an evening at Cal Pep beckons, so the brothers decide to observe the terms of reference and retire to their hotel – the 44-storey Hotel Arts, overlooking the site of the 1992 Olympic village.
Later, after their siestas, Sam and Eddie refresh themselves with glasses of fresh, appley cider at Sagardi, a pinotxo – or skewer-bar. Here, barmen pour cider into glasses from a great height and customers nibble on snacks at the bar. The number of skewers left on your plate determines your bill.
And so to Cal Pep. The place was recently heralded as the world's 31st-best restaurant and its discreet entrance, off an unexciting little square, is marked only by the large numbers
of people queuing outside. Within, the squawking Pep Manubens – who has attended lunch and dinner service at his impeccable tapas bar for 25 years – runs the show from behind the bar, taking orders and cooking some of the food. The boys embrace him as an old and important friend.
"I still send people to you, when they tell me that they're going to England," Pep tells Eddie.
"And we send people to you, too," he replies. Pep pours some glasses of sherry and they take their seats at the bar.
Dinner is a wonderful array of fresh, tasty dishes. There are fried artichokes, fiery pimientos de padron, tiny clams with sherry and ham, baby squid, baby shrimps, the lightest, fluffiest tortilla imaginable, and wild mushrooms fried with pepper and garlic. It's all served with great energy and a fair amount of shouting.
"Like all tapas, it's designed to be shared," says Sam. "The dishes should be eaten as soon as they're cooked, so this place is ideal as the stove is only two yards from the bar."
And the only way to continue this kind of spirited research is, after dinner, to visit the brothers' favourite and distinctly seedy caipirinha bar.
"I know Barcelona is a city of history, art and architecture," says Sam next morning, as the brothers ponder their itinerary before flying home in the afternoon. "But we come here to eat." And thus, their final hours of investigation take in the heart-stopping pleasures of hot chocolate and churros at a tiny churrería on via Laietana, a long seafood lunch at Merendero de la Mari by the harbour, and some farewell glasses of a local white wine, Ermita d'Espiells, at Cal Pep.
"We'll be back soon," says Eddie.
"I know," replies Pep.
"You know, it's not such a long way to go for lunch," says Eddie, as they head for airport.
"Anyway, it's work," adds Sam, as the research nears its completion prior to implementation of the findings at their London data-scrutiny unit that is the pleasuredome of Fino.
The Harts' restaurant, Fino, is at 33 Charlotte Street, London W1. To book a table, call 020 7813 8010 or visit finorestaurant.com.