El Celler de Can Roca in Girona, Spain, was more than a restaurant for Dallas residential architect, Steve Chambers. The cuisine that won First Place at World’s Best Restaurant Awards was an inspiring creative experience. Joan Roca is the eldest brother, executive chef, and culinary architect. To quote Joan, “we always pursue this idea of seducing our guests with one simple message: food is the language we use to tell stories.” Some call the Roca brothers’ style molecular gastronomy, some sous vide, I prefer to call it theater. El Celler de Can Roca gives new meaning to a family business: Joan heads up the kitchen, Josep Roca is the maitre d’ and head sommelier, and Jordi Roca is the pastry chef. The interrelated dynamic of the family translated to elegant pairings in the food, wine, and desserts. The cuisine was as decidedly as modern as the contemporary art and architecture we saw in Barcelona and worlds removed from the traditional food, but not the flavors, of Catalan cooking.

The modern glass and wood dining room architecture features twinkle lights pouring from a miniature arboretum in the center of the restaurant. Upon seating, we were served complimentary glasses of Cava (Albet I Noya El Celler Brut). The wine program is a large part of the El Celler De Can Roca experience. The collection of vintages so vast it’s catalogued into three volumes, each the size of a World Atlas. These massive wine books were delivered to diners on a rolling ‘library’ cart.

Our festival began with little olive with trees set upon the table, as though it was being decorated after the guests were seated. But it was soon clear this was just the beginning, the curtain opening to show the stage. Anchovy-wrapped olives were hooked onto the low hanging branches by wire question mark-shaped hangers. Plucked from the tree and popped into our mouths, the salty bites were sweet and crunchy. Olives are a quintessentially Spanish way to start a meal, and this clever interpretation of the tradition got the party started. The amuse of olives was followed by a steady stream of one-bite wonders. Campari bonbons, resembling miniature orange water balloons, unleashed a flood of zesty orange liquid. Next, a plank of wood arrived with anchovy bones embedded into rice tempura. The presentation resembled fossils hauled from ocean nets. The texture airy; the flavor was distinctly the pungent and salty taste of anchovies, conveyed from just their bones. While there was definite science behind the happenings in this kitchen with its foams, gels, “airs,” and “soils,” spherification of ingredients, and other seemingly magic things, there was also a palpable emotional energy to it all.

What followed was a dazzling choreography of service around the table with grilled prawns, sole meuniere, braised cod, Iberian suckling pig, red mullet, steak tartare, lamb in sweet peppers, wood pigeon, and a least five desserts. Many of the menu elements were laced with a powdery essence or crunchy shards of the ingredients. I loved how things melted in our mouths, leaving behind only the spirit or soul of a pepper, mustard sauce, avocado or lamb.

This doesn’t mean that we can leave love our comfort food behind. We can’t eat this way every day.  But it was spare poetry, using only the most essential flavors. This modernist approach invites us to deconstruct food and reminds us that good cuisine should engage all of the senses. It proposes new possibilities that take us beyond the familiar sensations and language of food…in some cases, into a level of strangeness and unfamiliarity.

It’s an intimate relationship between designer and consumer, with the architect showing the way. We allowed the chef, the sommelier, and patisser to take us into their kitchen for a three-hour seduction. We’re not sure where we’d been or if could even find our way back, but it was a hell of whirl under the klieg lights.

Our menu, wine list, and the photos below remind us that we did indeed have a ticket to the top show in the world. (Photography credit: Stephanie Chambers)