Joan Gatell

Gatell is like an old song that, no matter how long it’s been since you last heard it, it continues to fascinate, beyond the gastro-sentimental arena, for its strange perfection, for its timeless Mediterranean refrain… knowing all the while that this passion is not easy amidst so much novelty in the field, but Gatell is one of those immutable laws in cuisine (so few are left these days) who play in another dimension, in a different league, whose rules are self-explanatory only with a demand that neither time nor space are willing to make. Because Joan continues to emerge from the sea, which is his life; because the reception of marine products continues to occur twice daily; because an ancestral, intuitive erudition gives a reserved, wary look to contemporary cuisine; because the guard is never let down, ever. Here one never speaks of novelty, something that someday should probably be given up since, at the end of the day, it is an inexorable vector in our times yet, in reality… “Nouveauté”? Mais ça c’est plus vieux que le monde!”. Not here. It has been a long time since the menu changed. The proposals are the same. On one hand this can be limiting, on the other it indicates the extreme force exerted in not falling from the ranks. Because it is not easy to do, day in and day out, with those exaggerated sea snails, those meaty, subtle dates… Because you have to always be in the thick of things to snag those immense lobsters. Not to mention the wisely breaded sea cucumbers! Certainly, to maintain this level with these ideals, to go into it with these sublime goals, would be impossible without an exemplary trajectory to follow like that of Joan Pedrell.
And if in raw product they fight to the last man, without any possibility of retreat, at other points in the menu, which also remain unalterable, the resistance is no less fierce. Regarding the rice dishes, it is quite difficult to tell which is the best: marinera a la cazuela; a soupy rice with Norway lobsters, prawns and langoustines; the lobster… Primitive flavors made clean without hiding their inevitable Jungian pleasures.
Lastly, the only intelligent option is unconditional subordination before the avalanche: sautéed octopus with garlic and chopped parsley; sacrilegious tartars; Rochetti Norway lobster; the decadent suquets, the no less gourmand marine broth with fideos (noodles)… the unforgettable bouillabaisse. And, of course, the sea wins in the end… The Mediterranean.