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Yesterday I talked for a while with Javier Alguacil, owner of El Faralló in Dénia (absolute temple of the red shrimp, essential to understand what this is about gastronomy without artifice) and I could not help asking him, before the noise of boxes and speakers, hey where are you "Taking a little while in the auction, there is auction." I almost cry with happiness.
That popular aphorism came to mind, "it is well known that the ratios are longer than the times", and I also imagine the lunch afterwards with the rest of the fishermen and cooks; I imagine the noise of the boxes, the humidity and the beautiful smell of the sea, how the saltpeter floods everything and time stops in the important ordering the apparently urgent ride.
Something like this happens in all our fish markets, gastronomic treasures of incalculable value (and much more accessible than we think) along our coasts: the Confraria de Pescadors de Roses, the fish market in Vigo or the fishing port from Barbate. My mother always reminds me: the tram to Malvarrosa on Saturday mornings and bags with fresh fish for the meal of the day. Treasures are not always hidden, right?
And yet we are doing just the opposite. Restaurants, gastronomic consultants, architecture studios, media and each of the characters that converge in that tailor's drawer called 'gastronomy': we are loading the naturalness of which we presumed so much.
The head of the shrimp, the clochinas on the ground or the bib in front of a lobster stew in Casa Manolo; the greasy batons of Loli in El Palentino, the shouts (what are we going to do, they had their charm) of Sento Aleixandre in his Ca´Sento del Cabanyal or the “I am already taking things from you” of so many honest chefs without another plan to feed the parish well. That is, we have become a bit of an asshole.
Clonic restaurants - which could be in Ponzano but also in Malaga or Milan, photocopied letters, minimalist scenarios and press releases that are always the same press release: “Madrid has a new fashion venue and we don't want you to miss your cocktails of design, its grill in sight and its cosmopolitan decoration ” . Tarts, carpaccios, ceviches, tatakis, baos and tiraditos. How lazy everything.
Places with soul; that is not bought with a marketing plan or a cool interior designer, much less with the visit of the influencer on duty. People and gestures . That perhaps has more to do with the smell of the bags after the market on Saturday morning and my mother opening the door of the house, with the colors of the fish market and each of those little moments in front of the sea. Like so many treasures that no one can ever snatch us.