Zachary staged at Disfrutar in Barcelona because it gave him the chance to challenge himself by honing his skills in a different country
Not only have the chefs at Disfrutar been in the vanguard of fine dining for some time now, but I also wanted to leave my comfort zone and work in Barcelona.
I had certain expectations of what the food might be like in Spain but wanted to learn more about the unexpected. A restaurant like Disfrutar creates "familiar" dishes but not in their original forms. There is a sandwich of tomato meringue and sorbet, the other a cappuccino with potato foam; there are argent gnocchi, gilt yolks of crab broth, pimentos made of chocolate, tables that grow into ecosystems. So, yes, I carefully considered distance and the prospect of new flavors when deciding my destination, but I considered innovation and brio as well.
I began on the commis team in the basement prep kitchen as one of about twenty stagiaires. (This was how everyone started, even the chef de cuisine of one of the world’s leading restaurants, who trailed for a few days while traveling through Europe.) It was our part, inter alia, to pick herbs, gut pigeons, clean uni, crack walnuts, and to see to the attendant scrubbing and trash hauling of kitchen prep work. Space was tight, but because of this I had a good view of the cooks and sous chef. Butter was transmuted into bubbles; the walnuts we’d cracked in two were made whole again, their contents having been toasted and replaced with the addition of smoked cheese. I was able to refresh some old skills, and gained my first glimpse into Disfrutar’s singularity.
A week passed and I was called upstairs to work as an adjunct to the roast cook, a position I kept for the remainder of my time there. He handled the processing and cooking of the station’s proteins (pigeon and langoustine), and the production of sundry oils, stocks, and sauces. I prepared the mise en place for the smaller bites and the rest of the larger ones. The smaller bites are most notable, as they figured most prominently in my prep lists. First was a doughnut inspired by a bao bun––pan chino, they called it. Fried, it was perfectly spherical, redolent of honey and rosemary, its inside prodigal with caviar and crème fraîche. Then the huevo crocante: a tidbit of viscous mushroom broth served in an egg shell, the missing yolk tempura-fried and balanced on top. I prepared both dishes from scratch every day. The rest of my prep consisted of small knife work, herb picking, and setting up––the standard practice of heating sauces, filling squeeze bottles, collecting tools, and bringing a general order and cleanliness to the station before guests arrive and service begins.
Disfrutar seated no more than forty-five guests, but the length and complexity of its menu could have welcomed three hundred. The rapid pace and exacting standards were not new, but most of the language was a bit challenging for me. The cooks spoke some English, all with varying degrees of efficacy, and it often took hand gestures for us to understand each other. But my comprehension improved by degrees and services became easier.
During service, the cooks cooked and the stagiaires plated. Dishes were fired and we’d arrive at the pass in a body, sauces and garnishes in hand, jostling for access to the corresponding plates, which were usually too cold to use and needed to be warmed in the Salamander. Succoring other lines was often necessary, too, allowing for a more comprehensive understanding of the kitchen and menu, and for an opportunity to distinguish oneself. I was able to earn more responsibilities and function more as a cook than was previously allowed. No more than a third of my time behind me, I was firing garnish and slicing proteins, splitting time between the pass and the line. It was gratifying to work this muscle, as it were, and to keep pace with such a superb team, and doubly gratifying to do so while communicating in Spanish.
I am grateful to the more than generous cooks and sous chefs who took the time to answer questions about their work. In these cases, mere proximity to new techniques sufficed. I may or may not have missed some techniques but know that I will master them in time. The true lesson of Disfrutar, one to which I assign great value, is that nothing must be as it is expected. Oriol Castro, Eduard Xatruch, and Mateu Casañas cook after their own style. Having worked in their kitchen, I see in ingredients a potential that previously eluded me. This was the sort of growth I had had in mind.
