Celler de Can Roca: memory, landscape, life, death, nostalgia... everything, on the plate.
“Only the moment is eternal”, Raúl Bobet
September 26. 2012. I write about Celler de Can Roca , a hotel in Madrid, a computer, notes scribbled on an old -now retired- Moleskine. I have eaten at the Panamericana -where you eat more than well- and I have drunk a quite forgettable champagne. I've been asked why I love restaurants. Again.
June 12. 2007. I know Quique Dacosta in Dénia , I try The Animated Forest for the first time. Perhaps the first dish installed in my memory beyond taste, touch and aroma. It was a gray day, no rest of the waves in Las Rotas. I don't remember much else. But yes the truffle from Alba or the black truffle. Herbs, thyme and rosemary . Humidity. The journey from the plate to memory, to the memory of many afternoons accompanying my father and his dog through the lush pine trees of El Saler. I was a child and I hated that forest. He died years later, believing -I guess- that I forgot those unforgettable afternoons.
December 17. 2011. Girona. A group of honorable men and women united by the love of wine and good food gather around a round table at Celler de Can Roca. Josep Roca welcomes us. Pitu. He is not only the best sommelier I know, but also a special person -a transmitter- capable of leading you to a unique emotional state, of talking about memory, landscape, life, death and nostalgia. We talk about nostalgia. A fado by Silvia Pérez called 'Lágrima' plays, a fado that accompanies a Niepoort from 1983. I scribble a phrase “Oporto never dies”.
January 30th. 2006. Denis Mortet , one of Burgundy's most brilliant vignerons, takes his own life (46 years old) from a gunshot among his Clos de Vougeot vineyards. He fell into depression five years earlier because he believed that he had failed in the 99 vintage by interpreting his terroir, his landscape, his memory. I decide to visit his vineyard four years later, I do it because his creation- his Pinot Noir - is one of the reasons why one day I decided dedicate my life to wine . It was an unforgettable trip. I remember the story of Mortet that December 17 in Can Roca, hours after that fado, drinking with a good friend what was one of Mortet's favorite wines, Les Amorouses de Chambolle Musigny. It smells of cherries and damp earth, mushrooms and forest. It smells like nostalgia should smell.
Burgundy or how to dedicate your life to wine
July 5th. 2012. Valencia. I read an article by a colleague I admire, José Carlos Capel. It's called 'Memory and Roots'. I make a bet with him, a bet that I win. That conversation and his wonderful article remind me of one thing. I have to write about Can Roca. But I don't know what to write . What else can be said about Can Roca? José Carlos speaks of perfection -I agree-, he speaks of a kitchen of memory and roots. I don't know if it's the best restaurant in the world. And the truth, I don't care . I'm tired of scores, lists and awards. Of best and worst. I don't want to write that chronicle.
December 17. Gerona. Start the masterful (here you have it, signed by Pitu) El Celler menu with 'eat a world' and 'caramelized olives' . An olive tree perches on the table. I scribble the name of the dish and draw a star next to it -I always do- I do it because I know I will always remember this dish, I will always remember this food. Like that day at Clos de Vougeot, like the animated forest, like the fado that still hurts in the memory, like the afternoons with my father.
Today is Friday, I send this article.
I remember Can Roca.
What else can be written about Celler de Can Roca?