Part I : A Visit by Vedat Milor
In mid-July 2025 we visited Disfrutar in Barcelona. Ranked as number one in the world by 50 Best and with Michelin three stars, this is a highly regarded restaurant. The cook/owners and some of the staff spent years at El Bulli, and as you would expect, there are important continuities in terms of overall vision, menu design, and cooking techniques. Playful, irreverent, a little theatrical and at times amusing, Disfrutar is certainly a must to visit for those interested in the history and the current state of avant-garde gastronomy. But unlike the Scandinavian school with its predilection for conveying puritanical and moral messages to the client and the patronizing attitude accompanying that “mission”, Disfrutar, like El Bulli and Enigma, encourages reflection and reciprocity. That is, the attitude of the staff and menu design encourages dialogue between the kitchen and the client, joking and having a good time, while feasting on some exquisite dishes. Although I have not spoken with any of the three owners, I sensed that they are not too pretentious and do not take themselves too seriously. Rather they seem to want people in their restaurant to have a wonderful “sobremesa” by spending four hours relaxing, conversing, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.
However the food is very serious, clearly rehearsed many times and perfected. It is well thought out in terms of portion size, the sequence of dishes, and overall balance. Fortunately, unlike many “top 50” or Michelin three star restaurants, dishes are actually delicious and not merely conceptually intriquing. We also appreciated the fact that when we left we felt satisfied but not uncomfortable due to over-eating and indigestion. Consequently we slept well.
Four months have passed after our visit to Disfrutar. When we look behind and evaluate the meal, what stricks me and my wife the most is not the existence of some brillant dishes. Such unforgettable “anthological” dishes are rare, but I have seen them at Alain Chapel, Jamin-Robuchon, Freddy Girardet-Hotel de Ville, Bernard Pacaud-L’Ambroisie, and Fernan Adria-El Bulli. Rather it is the overall harmony, consistency, and the flow at Disfrutar that impressed us.
Once ushered to your table, a kind of palate cleanser is served: frozen pina colada, that is the molecular version with pineapple in contrasting textures and temperatures. Then one toasts with “forest floor”, a low alcohol distillate from water, dried herbs, and moss. Obviously this aperitive is a vehicle to toast (serving this in a copper cup was a neat idea), but its true intention is to alert the plate for the first taste experiment. That is, an oval plate is served containing eleven sprouts. One is supposed to discover flavors after smelling and tasting the sprouts one at a time. For instance persinette is parsley. Scarlet is beet. Borage is cucumber.
I liked this challenging game, not only because it is a tribute to mostly forgotten earthy-natural aromas and flavors, but the intended discovery of the hidden world of green sprouts sharpens and broadens the palate. It is a proper beginning to a long meal containing a multitude of flavors.
What kind of dishes or aromas-flavor combinations should follow the “sprouts” test game?
Well, it is followed by “polvoron” and liquid salad, both served in a metal ice cream container, like a glass. Honestly I have never eaten Polvoron which google describes as “a type of heavy, soft very crumbly Spanish shortbread made of milk, sugar, flour and nuts.” This version is powdery, but not sweet. It contains tomato and arbequina olive oil. Neither this and nor the pink liquid salad made an impression on me. Perhaps they were intended as harmless amuses to keep the taste buds fresh before the onset of savory dishes.
While we were trying to figure out the secrets of the “liquid salad”, they serve truffle scented vodka in a cognac glass.
Truffled vodka raised our expectations, and we were not disappointed. The next three dishes all featured fresh oscietra caviar from China. The first dish was a fluffy, weightless fried bun filled with caviar. It is basically made from unfermented dough, and the idea is to show the temperature contrast between the exterior and interior of the fritter. It tastes very good, and since the technique is to fry a siphoned foam, the so-called “Chinese bread” is very light and non-oily for a fritter.
The middle course was reminiscent of crisp bruschetta topped by a generous dollop of caviar and solidified bubbles of smoked butter. (They must be using a technique similar to previous dish.) The bruschetta or thin waffle was inky black, and it is like a crisp version of the well known mole sauce. At any rate, this dish is delicious. The rich creamy-sweetness of oscietra caviar was exponentially augmented by condensed butter, but it was also tempered by the piquant mole. Both paired well with the truffled vodka.
The last of the trio featuring caviar was the most complex and profound: amaranth coral with caviar, oyster, and codium emulsion. The coral tart is made from amaranth grain and is topped with sturgeon (oscietra), as well as trout eggs, oysters, and codium (seaweed). These flavors highlighted the saline-iodized component of the caviar, but the overall harmony and depth of the dish rendered it perfect. This is one of the best caviar dishes, on par with Thomas Keller’s “oysters and pearls”. The anatomy and history of this dish is explained with painstaking detail and precision by gastronomy expert Carola Sitges who is also a good client of Disfrutar. I URGE ONE TO READ IT CAREFULLY HERE as it will provide an in depth understanding of Disfrutar’s philosophy.
I should add that the presentation of this “Amaranth coral” is accompanied by a little ceremony or optical illusion, a la Disfrutar. I have mixed feelings about its relevance, but it can be better understood by reading Carola’s article.
When we were reveling in the intense and deep maritime aroma and flavors, the next course was presented: a kind of “gazpacho with pistachios, green olives, various oils.” I could not quite concentrate on it, but noticed that they used an Adria style spherification method to the fullest. I recall fresh, bright, and balanced summer flavors. It was well conceived, following three consecutive rich courses.
But it is impossible not to remember the next taste explosion: flourless ‘coca’ bread with “escalivada” and anchovy. At home and in summer-fall, I love to eat grilled sourdough bread with caramelized red pepper, onions, eggplant, and Cantabrian anchovy. The often used cliché, “umami”, may be appropriate here as the overall taste combination is very rich and savory. Here they both lightened the Catalan traditional escalivada (smoky grilled vegetables brightened by sherry vinegar) and they concentrated the umami impression. The traditional coca flatbread was very light but crisp. When I asked, they said that they made the dough from potato starch-pliant kokko oblate to make it light. Yet its topping was true gourmandise.
After this very strong taste, what should come next? Well, they followed this with a display of an overly technical dish: crunchy mushroom leaf served alongside crispy egg yolk with warm mushroom gelatin and a fried egg ball sitting on egg shell with mushroom consomme. These visually beautiful two dishes did not make a strong palate impression. The latter showcased an interesting technique where the egg yolk was fried very fast (they said it was microwaved) and looked like a fried Chinese bun.
Next two dishes made a good impression. Oyster escabeche was served with four different kinds of fermented mushrooms, toasted pinenuts, and ice plant. This was an excellent example of mar y muntanya style dish which are very popular in Catalan cuisine. The sake they served paired very well with the fermented umami component of this dish.
The smoked eel, pesto (in spherical form), pine nuts, pistachio nuts, and pancetta combination was delicious. The parmesan cream sauce brought together the different components of this course.
Then it was the turn of my favorite Catalan green calcots (a sort of wild green onion). The season is very short, mid-April to mid-May. Normally they grill it and serve it on paper with sauce romesco. Since they served calcots in mid-July, they were freeze dried. They used the stem of the calcots to make a dashi. This was presented in a cognac glass. They also made a version of romesco sauce with miso. The result was quite good but by no means is a substitute for freshly grilled calcots which we have had on several occassions. (Somehow our server did not seem to believe that we knew what calcots were!).
I am not a fan of suquet fish stew as the fish tends to get overcooked, but the hake suquet was excellent. The hake was fresh and most likely it was not cooked in a stew. The fish stew was presented in a separate coffee cup and called “cappuccino of suguet”. On the plate, potato foam, potato gnocchi, and saffron aioli accompanied the fish nicely. I noted the quality of the saffron as another positive point.
The most perplexing dish was the next: “the hen of the golden eggs: crustacean fried egg”. They first leave on the table a deep plate simulating a nest, with a straw and five eggs with a barcode and a sixth egg painted gold in the center of the nest. Then they serve the dish that we are going to eat and recommend breaking the golden yolk and combining all the ingredients. The egg white is very well fried and a langostinos prawn tail is cut into three pieces and placed on top of the heavily toasted tips of the egg whites. According to Carola, whom I asked to explain this dish, the golden egg yolk was a spherification of a red sauce that looked like srirasha and was golden on the outside. Overall the dish looked like “fried egg white shrimp tortilla”. In personal correspondance Carola writes: “It is a deconstructed fried egg something in between a tortilla de camarones and some traditional Thai recipe, perhaps a kind of deconstructed Pad Thai.”
The final savory course was excellent: squab. When I asked its provenance, they said it was semi-hunted and came from Madrid. I did not quite grasp what they meant by “semi-hunted”, but it was a great squab, tender but also with a gamey edge that made the meat more flavorfull. (Most likely the squab was strangled.) They served it with two sauces: liquid manchego (fonduta texture) and a demi-glazed flavored by beet juice. These two were separated by bow shaped spaghetti made from agar agar. (See the photo.) A beet merinque on the plate was a nice extra touch. The excellent 1952 Rioja Gran Reserva they served by glass elevated the experience to a higher plane. My only wish is that they should also present the liver, internal organs, and the thigh of the pigeon alongside the breast as these are often the most flavorful parts.
Like almost all Michelin three star restaurants with degustation menus, there are too many desserts. I think it would be more satisfactory to offer a cheese course and only one dessert, but I know that inexperienced diners seldom frequent these type of restaurants and when they go they only remember desserts. I rarely remember a dessert unless it is exceptional. Disfrutar served one exceptional dessert: cucumber sorbet, black sesame, ginger granita, hoisin sauce, and chicharron (deep fried porc rind). This was not solely original and well conceived but also delicious. It was multi-dimensional and at the same time complemantary and contrasting elements hung well together.
We also loved the final gesture. They present engagement rings in a jewelry box. There are a total of 25 rings and one selects as many as one intends to get get engaged in the course of life 🙂
One doesn’t also leave Disfrutar thirsty. As I have written above, they offer a ‘forest floor’ coctail, truffle infused vodka, and sake. Besides the glass of old Rioja Gran Reserva, we ordered an excellent champagne, Dehours, Les Genevraux. Made from pinot meunier with the Solera method, this is a deep and fresh tasting champagne. The white wine, a non-fortified Palomino, 2022 M. Ant De La Riva Macharnudo is an excellent wine from Jerez that I had three times. I was equally impressed each time.
I left the restaurant happy that I got engaged only once and married the right woman. Nonethless I should have eaten more than one engagement ring!
EVALUATION: 9/10
Part II – The Amaranth Coral: In Depth Analysis by Carola Sitjas i Bosch
I’m often told that my write ups are so long that, if I published only what I say about a single dish, it would already be an article that within a single chronicle there are several articles and that I write books rather than restaurant pieces.
What’s more, I complain that press releases don’t go deep; when they explain the latest menu at, for example, Mugaritz; a restaurant that invites you to write, think, and rethink. They simply transcribe the names of the dishes as they appear on the reminder card and pad them with generic adjectives like “a must try,” “the iconic,” “the delicious”; connectors like “followed by,” “next,” and “to finish”; and they transcribe quotes from the chef without offering any opinion beyond a bit of praise. In other words, a flat EEG.
When I posted photos of the latest menu I ate at Disfrutar this past Tuesday, October 7, 2025, I was surprised by how many people told me their favorite dish was the “Amaranth Coral.”
One of the dishes considered iconic at Disfrutar is the “Chinese bread stuffed with caviar and sour cream” from 2016, and I had no idea there was such (probably skewed) unanimity around the coral. Personally, I like the “Chinese bread,” but it’s not one of the dishes I’d highlight at the restaurant. Technically yes, because the idea of frying a siphoned foam alone thrills me, and I think the unfermented dough is very well achieved; but in terms of flavor, even though I value the two temperatures (the interior and exterior of the “fritter”), a taste of frying predominates that I associate with cuisines far less aesthetic, sensitive, refined, and intellectual. That’s why I liked seeing a different dish so clearly singled out.
I’ve said many times that Disfrutar is one of those restaurants I could talk about for hours and hours; I think their cuisine allows for that and much more.
I often read and hear the comment “not much left to say,” not only from enthusiasts but also from chefs and journalists. It seems to me you can talk about restaurants by going a little further than assessing product quality, doneness, and whether the dishes suited our personal tastes.
For all these reasons I’ve decided to publish just some thoughts on Disfrutar’s “Amaranth Coral.”
If I hadn’t previously published an article exclusively about one dish, it’s because, in a way, isolating one and discussing it without the broader context of the menu, the restaurant, and its trajectory can lead to misinterpretations and seems risky to me, since we’re talking about only two or three bites from a menu that, in this case at Disfrutar, consisted of 32 items (26 plus 6 petits fours), just as some journalists decontextualize a quote from an interview to craft a click bait, tendentious headline.
EXPLANATION OF THE DISH
On the one hand, the base is a crunchy amaranth that’s somewhat similar to a “cookie” of puffed rice.
First, they “soufflé” the amaranth. Technically, I understand that to “inflate” and to “soufflé” are the same and achieved similarly to how potatoes are made into pommes soufflées, how rice is puffed, or how corn pops to make popcorn that is, it bursts thanks to the moisture in the endosperm, where the starch is. That said, even if the terms inflate and soufflé are used interchangeably, I’d say they’re different processes and, physically speaking, inflating is different from bursting. Perhaps English makes this clearer, since “puffed rice” (which preserves the grain’s shape but is much larger) is different from “popped rice” (which has an irregular shape like popcorn).
Then they grind the souffléed amaranth, mix it with a green and a red coloring, add vodka, and fry this mass. Because it contains vodka (alcohol), when it comes into contact with the oil, the vodka evaporates very quickly and expands what’s inside (the mass), thus achieving the coral shape. I understand they add vodka to create more internal moisture. Technically, I don’t fully understand why they add an alcohol (wouldn’t water work?), and I imagine they use vodka rather than gin, white rum, or another clear spirit to contribute as little aroma as possible.
On the other hand, on top of this crisp and much easier to grasp go salmon roe (we’ve also been told trout roe at times), beluga caviar, a codium mayonnaise and pieces of codium, and finally two pieces of oyster. Even so, whether due to the season or because it was the first version, back in January 2023 they served it with sea urchins and the two codium textures, but without caviar, oysters, or salmon/trout roe.
The presentation of this dish also comes with a whole little ceremony and explanation. It’s served inside a black box with a pane of glass standing vertically in the middle. They ask us to take the coral, but we can’t find it. Then they remove the glass pane from the box and we “discover” the coral. The idea is to create an optical effect that confuses the diner, to prompt reflection on the plate (the tableware), on whether we’re supposed to eat the decoration and accompaniments or not, whether it’s necessary to have the decoration on the plate or simply to see it, and on garnishes and ways of serving food an idea very much in the elBulli vein that they’ve been developing for years. It really is a magic trick!
A dish that carries a message, a reflection but I understand it’s a game that could be adapted to other aperitifs, like Parmesan crisps, for example and that there’s no inherent connection between the optical effect and the coral.
ASSESSMENT OF THE DISH – Organoleptic analysis
Appearance: It’s very beautiful, delicate, and fragile, very Disfrutar and the mirror effect achieved with the black box makes it shine even more.
Aroma: Scent is not what I’d highlight in this dish; amaranth isn’t exactly an intense ingredient. But of course, the seafood is at the right temperature and gives off some aroma.
On the palate.
Temperature: It’s very pleasant to feel the faux “toast” contrasted with the freshness of the seafood.
Texture: I really like the unctuousness/moistness that the codium emulsion lends to the crisp, without sogging it, yet giving it “juiciness,” and the crisp itself is “soft” in the sense that it’s easy to chew. That is, you have the fragility of the crisp and the density of the seafood, perfectly combined.
Taste: I remember that the first time I found the crispy component a bit disproportionate to the sea urchin and would have liked to taste more sea urchin and less “fried bread,” but as they serve it now (with oyster, salmon roe, and caviar, together with the codium emulsion and whole codium) the “coral” is more generously filled with seafood, and the bite conveys more marine freshness and that intense, deep maritime “punch.”
Even so, and this is a bit contradictory, i really liked the version with sea urchins. They source sea urchins of a caliber that’s a joy to behold, served impeccably clean, whole, without a flaw… they’re so good and I eat them so rarely that, frankly, I might have added a couple more.
I won’t give any auditory assessment, because beyond the pleasant sound of anything crunchy, there’s no need to act like such “snobs” (to put it politely).
ASSESSMENT OF THE DISH – Evolutionary and stylistic analysis
If I’m not mistaken, I’d say it’s a 2023 dish. At least, the first time I ate it was January 2023.
Over these nearly three years, I’ve eaten it three times, and in that period it’s been versioned based on products available in different seasons of the year. It has also moved around in the menu, going from dish number 14 to number 5, something they often do and which I find very sensible, whether for taste and service reasons, or because when they introduce a new technique they tend to present it alone, as bare as possible to give it full protagonism and on future visits it appears within a dish as a garnish or as one element among others, or, as with the coral, relegated to an aperitif and “de emphasized,” since they are constantly introducing novelties.
On the reminder cards, the dish appears as “Amaranth coral with sea urchin” (2023) and as “Amaranth coral with caviar, oyster, and codium emulsion” (2024 and 2025).
I also think it’s worth noting that, although at Disfrutar they don’t break the reminder card into “snacks,” “starters,” “first course,” “second course,” and “desserts”, a breakdown that became obsolete decades ago at many high end restaurants with long, narrow menus, we’re talking about a dish that would be the equivalent of an hors d’oeuvre (I’ve always eaten it at the start of the meal, between dish 14 and 5) and not a main course. And for some reason, it seems people don’t demand the same level of rigor from an aperitif or a petit four as from the central courses of the menu.
It’s a tartlet/canapé format so typical of the “fine dining” circuit of “gourmets voyageurs” who follow rankings and lists Jordnær, Sézanne, Hiša Franko, Coda, Mirazur, Trèsind, Victor’s Fine Dining at Christian Bau, etc.
But I’ll stress again that, in Disfrutar’s case, it’s an aperitif and not a course; therefore I don’t find the format at all objectionable. That said, as an aside, one of the things I liked about this last visit was that the second aperitif “Centrifuged macadamia fat with milk skin, caviar, and mango” was in plate format and meant to be eaten with cutlery (in this case, with two spoons, which I love, as spoons are the great forgotten tool).
Technically, physically, and chemically, I find it magical, just as I find it magical that a corn kernel turns into popcorn, even if cereals had already been puffed before.
Stylistically, it doesn’t seem among the most representative of Disfrutar, as it brings together two creative lines followed by quite a few other chefs who work precisely at this junction of “elBulli style + seafood cuisine”: Aponiente, Quique Dacosta, Miramar, La Madonnina del Pescatore, Uliassi, Mirazur, Gérald Passedat’s Le Petit Nice, etc. I even think it could be a dish from Dos Palillos or other Japanese influenced restaurants inspired by elBulli, understood as a kind of crunchy “sunomono.” In fact, if I ate it blind in 2025, I might not say it was from Disfrutar, even if in 2023 puffing amaranth was a novelty. That said, if we look closely at how these other restaurants carry out the fusion of elBulli style with seafood cuisine, we see that Disfrutar is the only one developing techniques substantial enough to be considered new.
As for the product, I’d say the dish doesn’t introduce any new ingredients for them: codium seaweed, oysters, sea urchins, caviar, and salmon roe were all worked with at elBulli; perhaps amaranth is the “newest,” appearing as a novelty in elBulli’s 2005 menu, twenty years ago now.
Also regarding the product, the sea urchin version allows you to enjoy them in their entirety and doesn’t require chopping them as in the oyster version, where you lose the sense of fullness and the meaty quality of oysters eaten whole. As always, there are examples that could sway us for or against cutting, mincing, or heavily manipulating an oyster, but I still remember what felt like sacrilege conceptually when, perhaps twenty years ago now, Nandu Jubany made an oyster tartare.
As for the product once more, perhaps the only point to criticize is the coloring, since to the uninitiated it sounds like a “bad” ingredient. I’m sure there are quality colorings and many natural colorants (like the seaweeds themselves) and many ways to “dye” food, but it brings to mind those dyes used to tint jeans and used in some countries outside the EU to color that aberration of “wasabi” in a tube that looks like toothpaste. Maybe I’d avoid presenting the dish by saying the word “coloring,” so as not to trigger the pro natural zealots afraid of being poisoned by the infinitesimal dose of sulfites in a bottle of wine, for example, and I’d explain that they achieve the green with seaweed, or whatever it is they use to tint it.
AMARANTH
A parenthesis to talk about amaranth, since it’s a food that’s fairly foreign to me and that I associate with an Aztec origin from Mesoamerica.
It’s an ingredient I’ve practically never cooked with, except for a few bags from the Catalan company Biográ that I bought about four years ago, with dried amaranth seeds from India that I simply cooked to get to know the taste and ended up using only in salads and other dishes as if it were a legume. It took some effort to finish the bag and, in the end, I had to fry part of it and put the rest in the oven to use like sesame, seeds, or croutons as a crunchy element in some dishes.
I find it an inexpensive ingredient (I was buying it at €4.50/kg raw), and I associate it with South American countries, where I imagine it grows in poor soils and is consumed regularly to avoid malnutrition.
When I bought it for Ca La Carola, I took a bit more interest in the product and discovered that, botanically speaking, it’s considered a pseudo cereal that is, it doesn’t belong to the grass/poaceae family (where cereals are), but rather to the amaranth family, like quinoa, chard, spinach, and beet. Even so, due to its high starch content, in the kitchen it’s used like a cereal and has the “virtue” of not containing gluten.
My references for amaranth are scarce. I tried to jog my memory and look through my archive of reminder cards and found that in April 2005 I had it at elBulli in the dish “Sole with souffléed amaranth and amaranth air with coriander.” I’d say it’s dish 1176 | sole with puffed amaranth, Córdoba air, coriander amaranth/popcorn, Chinese chive blossom, and lemon.
That same 2005, elBulli also did “Little snails in court bouillon with pickled velvet crab and fennel amaranth” (dish 1170).
Another restaurant where I remembered eating amaranth was Mugaritz, and I found that in December 2009 I ate sea cucumbers sprinkled with amaranth seeds like crunchy crumbs. From the same restaurant, I also have a vague memory of a fish dish with “acidic amaranth sprouts” and a salsify nixtamalized or “fossilized” with the lime technique, accompanied by amaranth crumbs mixed with some fish roe so that they were visually confusable, since both were granular. And in 2025 Andoni is doing the dish “amaranth seeds with chile miso,” which I haven’t eaten, but it truly looks like a micro plantation of sprouts. I also found that in 2006, for Mas Pau’s 30th anniversary, Andoni cooked “A modo de una pasta, amaranto guisado con un caldo de sardinas guarnecido con colas de cigala y hojas tiernas del huerto como una bleda vermella” and a recipe of his based on scallops and tubers “roasted” covered with amaranth, slices of sweet acorn, and winter purslane, dressed with clay and truffle.
On 08/31/2020, Andreu Genestra (Mallorca) served “Potato, olive, oyster, and cockles.” A very typical Andreu dish, since it was three dishes in one, or in which he plated the accompaniments on separate plates.
On one plate there was a potato parmentier with an oyster on top and a green olive gel.
On a separate plate he served an almond “crêpe” with a stew of pochas (white beans) inside, potato sauce, and amaranth.
On a third plate, a crisp cookie made of potato with a base of fresh herbs, finished with three dots of black licorice and three cockles on top.
In Italy in recent years I’ve had it at AlpiNN (Bruneck/Brunico) with Norbert Niederkofler, where on 09/22/2021 he served the aperitif “Cabbage with puffed amaranth”; at Lido 84 (Gardone Riviera) with Riccardo Camanini, where on 03/31/2023 he served “Amaranth crisp, smoked eel cream, and black kale powder”; and at Clandestino (Portonovo) with Moreno Cedroni, where on 08/19/2023 he served “Ricciola con porro e lemongrass, viola del pensiero, basilico amaranto,” a 2010 dish raw greater amberjack accompanied by a leek and lemongrass sauce and, on top, fried amaranth (as crumbs), basil, and pansies. Very thin slices of a very tasty amberjack with a delicate dressing.
In short, amaranth strikes me as an uncommon ingredient in haute cuisine, with lots of possibilities even as a flour for bread and other doughs, or as a beverage, making a kind of “amaranth milk,” as is done with rice and other grains.
Closing the amaranth parenthesis: simply by racking my brain about where I’d eaten it, I was surprised to find more examples than I’d have thought at first. But in any case, I find it curious that all the dishes combine amaranth with products from the sea fish, crustaceans, fish roe, or seaweeds except for Andreu Genestra, who used it in a sauce with potato that accompanied an almond crêpe stuffed with a bean stew (legumes).
THE CORAL
Lastly, to close the evolutionary and stylistic analysis of Disfrutar’s “Amaranth Coral,” I think that, in terms of embodying an idea based on a non culinary element, the dish is very well achieved.
Even though we also call the red part of scallops, zamburiñas, lobsters, and brown crabs “coral,” we all understand that Disfrutar’s coral refers to the marine invertebrate which, though some consider it a plant and others an animal, I’d say is not eaten besides being highly protected and considered a prized object. This double meaning could also serve as a wordplay to stuff the amaranth coral with lobster coral, for example making a “coral of coral.”
I think of chefs who have tried to “cook” marine coral and, right now, the only thing that comes to mind is elBulli’s 2005 “morphing,” the “chocolate coral” (dish 1212), but that wasn’t a dish that intended to transmit the taste of the sea; it was simply a chocolate in the skeletal, branched shape of a reddish coral.
It’s a dish that can call to mind, aesthetically and in its marine profile, Disfrutar’s “aerated sea rock” from 2024 (dish no. 10 on the October 2024 menu).
It was a “rock” they made from a béarnaise with some mussels; they put this sauce in a siphon to make a foam and vacuum sealed it, so that all the air in the foam expanded, achieving a very light, delicate texture. Then they put it in the blast chiller to cool it very quickly and so it would retain the spongy form.
On top, they added blue spirulina for color, some fried shrimp (“camarón”), Kalix roe, tobiko (flying fish roe), some seaweeds like sea lettuce and sea grapes, and an emulsion that I’d say was codium. At the base of the plate, under the rock, there were small pieces of oyster.
I take Kalix roe to be the Swedish “caviar,” the roe of the European vendace (Coregonus albula), a freshwater salmonid; specifically from the Swedish city of Kalix, on the Swedish side of the Bay of Bothnia, where there’s an archipelago famous for producing this “caviar” with a distinctive taste due to the large influx of fresh water that the Bay of Bothnia receives from the rivers of Swedish Lapland.
The idea was to take the spoons and eat away.
A dish I remember as very aromatic, it smelled like Cala Montjoi! The taste of béarnaise was gentle, but I liked it combined with the seaweed and marine flavors. I found the rock a touch too cold; I always struggle with things that are too cold, although in this case the coldness dissipated quickly. The rock, despite looking like a sponge, crumbled; it wasn’t elastic like elBulli’s “sponges,” which is why I think they called it an “aerated rock” and not a “sponge.” Sea grapes, even if they add little flavor, are curious and fun for their texture. Discovering the delicious tender pieces of oyster beneath the rock was fantastic.
I found it curious to combine a béarnaise with seaweed, fish roe, and oyster, since it’s always been served with meats like Chateaubriand or beef fillets, though it has also been used with fish and vegetables. It also surprised me to eat it cold and in the form of an “aerated rock.”
Even so, the similarity between this “sea rock” and the “amaranth coral” is debatable. It’s like saying a black shirt dress and an LBD are the same. Yes, they’re both black dresses, but they have nothing to do with each other, one informal and daytime, the other a cocktail party dress. I mean they are two dishes with marine flavors, but technically they have nothing in common, apart from the fact that the “aerated sea rock” was a colder bite than the “amaranth coral.” Simply put, since I ate them in the same menu in October 2024 and only a few courses apart, it was easy to link and compare them because of their marine theme and aesthetics.
The “amaranth coral” is also a dish that more than one chef has liked and, even if they don’t copy the puffed amaranth technique for the base, we do find canapés that resemble Disfrutar’s coral quite a bit. We don’t have to go far to find a copy (or “homage” or “inspiration,” if you prefer to soften it), like the “Corali” I ate in May 2024 at Paco Pérez’s Miramar, the fourth of the nine aperitifs served.
I assume they call it “Corali” because, visually, it evokes the calcareous skeleton of marine coral.
There were spaghetti like or filamentous strands of various seaweeds on the shell of a zamburiña; the seaweeds remained rigid and were crunchy.
On top, salmon roe and tobiko (flying fish roe), although they didn’t specify, saying simply “different caviars.”
Also on top and again they didn’t mention it, there was a freeze dried codium foam (white, even though codium is green; who knows what they blend it with so it loses color). In any case, I take it they make a foam with freeze dried codium, not that they freeze dry the foam.
Over that foam, a bit of what looked like fresh wasabi and a little purple flower.
Over the seaweed base there was also a gelatin made of three seaweeds (the light yellow dots): laurencia, sea lettuce, and gracilaria.
There was also a gelatin with huitlacoche that doesn’t show in the photo.
Finally, “mareperla” (the succulent plant, not mother of pearl) which, honestly, I have no idea where it was or in what state (solid, liquid, or gas) they served it.
It was also meant to be eaten by hand like a canapé and, if you were capable, in a single bite; otherwise, half the ingredients fell off, crumbled, came apart, and dribbled everywhere, making a mess of yourself and the tablecloth.
Flavor wise, a citrusy mayonnaise and the salmon roe dominated. Texture wise, it combined the crunch of the dehydrated seaweed, the different crisp pops of the roes, and the creaminess of the gelatin, the foam, and the salmon roe when they burst, very pleasant creaminesses of different densities. A delicious canapé I would have enjoyed much more had I been able to manage it in a single bite.
At Miramar, in the same menu and also served as an aperitif, the ninth canapé was a dish titled “Marine Salad,” which also revolved around the same theme.
Even though they write Marine with a capital M, I understand it doesn’t refer to a proper name but to the sea.
They describe it as a “cupcake” of a transparent gelatin made from lemon peel and filled with brown crab and halophyte plants. Even though they didn’t announce it, it also had salmon roe (they said trout), orange tobiko (orange flying fish roe), yellow tobiko (yellow flying fish roe), and some “sea peas” that were spherifications based on a seaweed juice grilled over embers (the smallest spheres).
I don’t find it very serious to call it a “cupcake”; I don’t quite like that give me tartlet or a more classic name; we’re not in a café in the Sant Antoni neighborhood, for goodness’ sake!
An aperitif quite similar to the fifth canapé, the “Corali,” but without the crunch of dehydrated seaweed and, once again, with fish roes from very far from Cap de Creus.
All nine Miramar aperitifs were served and explained at once, resulting in a touch of saturation with so much information received in one go; I’d prefer they serve them one by one (with an allegro vivace tempo like at elBulli) or in two rounds. Besides, the three or four minutes of explanations alter the temperature, texture, flavor everything of each bite. An endemic ailment of fine dining; nothing new to say there. Just as I repeat myself by saying that, once again, the aperitifs were rather wishy washy something that doesn’t happen at Disfrutar. Fortunately, however, at Miramar they also had the marine intensity I expect from that restaurant, and that made me happy. I love starting with that fresh, pure maritime power so characteristic of Miramar at its best!
In short, aesthetically, the base of Disfrutar’s “Amaranth Coral” reproduces very well the idea of calcium carbonate forming the hard skeleton. The green color with red touches also seems very appropriate to me, since coral lives in symbiosis with microalgae that lend it those colors and, moreover, given that amaranth is white and they give it green and red hues with seaweed (codium).
Also, some corals can trap plankton and fish, so I find it very fitting to serve, on top, roes, seaweeds, and bivalves, in addition to boosting the marine flavor.
Therefore, I think it’s magnificently represented, it’s very good, and Disfrutar has made it possible for us to eat marine coral. I’d never have imagined it would be so delicious. A gemstone worthy of the finest jewelers. You could happily eat the whole reef!
