[Wilfrid1]

A year since my first visit, I return to this cool, white room in the smart Chamberi district, betting that the chef's selection for the Grand Menu would have evolved. I wasn't wrong, and I was treated to a dozen courses of quite wonderful food (and one dud). A terrific kitchen. Sadly, I thought the service ultimately fell short of the standard one expects at this level. Let me talk about the food first, though, as it provides entirely sufficient justification for a visit.

Following the familiar panoply of breads, crispbreads and crackers, with a selection of EVOOs from a fancy tray, butter, and the three dips I remember from last year - alli oli, peanut (they could bottle and sell this stuff) and avocado - I settled in for a meal structured as:

- three tapas
- three entradas
- two fish
- one meat
- desserts

I specified that the cart of cheeses should be placed at my disposition before the service of desserts.

At the end of the meal, I was handed a copy of my menu to take away. However, since the menu is terse and willfully playful, I'll have to unpack some of the descriptions. The tapas/entradas distinction seems meaningless; indeed, as we shall see, one of the entradas was an inspired detournement of a tapas bar classic. So, essentially, six small plates.

First up, erizo de mar con pan y tomate: slivers of sea urchin topped with a puffed foam of "bread and tomato". Arola is a professed disciple of Adria (I've never eaten Adria's food), and it's at moments like this one can understand the magic of these much-discussed innovations. Pa amb tomaquet - bread rubbed with fresh tomato - is a ubiquitous flavor of Catalunya; right here, Arola gives you it's pungent essence in the lightest fluff of mousse. A great combination with well-flavored sea urchin.

Next, a dish I found hard to understand but easy to enjoy, rape en ceviche. The monkfish element seemed to be expressed in a white puree at the bottom of a small bowl - didn't seem to be very ceviche-like, more like a brandade if anything; and this was topped with a thin layer of coulis, slightly sweet, maybe tomato but maybe a fruit. Notes don't help me much here.

Third offering was simple and wonderful, tosta de chantarellas con queso azul y espinacas. The fresh chanterelles were simply served on a crisp round of toast spread by with a blue cheese, probably Cabrales, and some almost pureed spinach. But I shouldn't say anything here is simple - the chanterelles, which were spectacularly tasty, may well have been cooked in a stock or broth. I could have eaten a tray of these.

The first of the entradas was more challenging, gazpacho de foie con helado de ajoblanco. In the centre of a soup bowl, find a circular slice of pain d'epices, with a delicate ginger flavor. Top this with a small scoop of white ice cream, flavored with garlic (although I'd have guessed scallion), and lap the ingredients with a cool, foie gras broth. The ice cream and cake were really, really good. The broth was slightly unbalanced, I thought - a little too citric for the flavor of the foie to come through clearly. But I am nitpicking.

Fondas de patata confitados con tomae y "alli oli" was the smart pastiche of that tapa classic, patatas bravas. Six tiny cylinders of potato, each about the circumference of a pencil and standing an inch tall, had been cooked (braised, apparently), to a golden brown, creamy finish. Each tiny tower was topped with a daub of light cream, into which the whole, nostalgic essence of tomatoey, garlicky bravas sauce had been infused. Funny and delicious.

And then it got even better. Revuelto de esparragos blancos y verdes con morillas. Halved morels in a morel broth; delicate green asparagus spears; strips of white asparagus somehow endowed with a huge, pleasantly startling kick of rosemary flavor. Atop all, the yolk only of an egg, encased in just the kind of thickish, crunchy breadcrumbs served as migas in traditional restaurants; split open, the yolk flows and binds the dish together. FMJD, as experts say.

After these overtures, the larger plates started arriving. Salmonetes con judia verde y mango, sopa de pescado de rocca - rosy fillets of red mullet over green beans and a slice of what must have been mango, I think, although the flavor didn't come through, and a rockfish stock. Good. Then the dud of the evening, suprema de lubina asada con tapenadea la pimienta rosa (sic). The rectangle of sea bass is usually the dullest part of a menu for me; in this case, it was the opposite problem - yucky, unbalanced flavors. The sea bass, underdone and chewy in the center, was smeared with a fierce black olive tapenade. It was then garnished with what the menu describes as pink peppecorns; pink, they were, but I believe they were Szichuan peppercorns - can an expert clarify? Anyway, I can't bear these little beggars at the best of times, palate-killers that they are. Horrid dish, and left unfinished.

But the meat course was fine: Arroz basmati guisado con verdura y fruta escarchada con pichon de Navaz al aroma de las brasas. A single breast of pigeon, tender and rare, fanned prettily over one large chanterelle and a braised to softness pigeon leg. The garnish, risotto-consistency rice cooked in a very rich stock, with some dried fruit for a little sweetness, and a hint, I suppose, of the Ottoman.

We then had a bit of a battle over the cheesecart. The server who had taken my order had been instructed very clearly to insert a cheese course before dessert, and he had understood and written it down. But the different server who brought the food whipped out a pre-dessert after the meat. When I pointed out the mistake, he asked if I would like the desserts before the cheese (as the kitchen was clearly ready to send them out). At this level, the answer had to be no, I wanted what I'd ordered, and I did explain that to him quite firmly, which clearly gave him the hump. I don't expect servers to get humpy at a Michelin two star as a result of their own error.

Anyway, el carro de queso trundled over eventually. Usual suspects - Idiazabal, Cabrales, Manchego - but pleasant enough, and plainly served. The desserts, finally, were a bit of a blur: calabaza, or pumpkin, which I think was rendered as a cool cream; yogurt-quicos-miel, or yoghurt with nuts and honey; and fresas estofadas y helado de azahar, strawberries with an orange blossom ice cream, and I only wish I could remember what they were stuffed with. I don't do the desserts justice, but they were just fine.

I drank a 1998 Gran Clos from the Priorat through most of the meal, a gentle blend of grenache, carignac, and cabernet. This was recommended by the sommelier after she had surprisingly tried to downsell me, of all things, turning me from the Priorat page of the wine list to offer me a very inexpensive bottle from another region. I didn’t want to take the chance. The other elements of the drink service were, I felt, unsatisfactory. One had the sense that they wanted to give me whatever was ready to hand. Rather than being offered a choice of aperitifs, I was poured a rather disappointing cava on being seated. It seems to have been complimentary, and I believe all diners were being offered the same. I would have preferred something different. At the conclusion of the meal, I told the sommelier I would like a digestif. "Cognac? Armagnac?" I don't know, is there a list or something? "No, no list. Something strong? Whisky?" I don't know, because I don't know what you've got. I want to make a choice. Having dined here previously, I knew there was a trolley of digestifs, and I was interested to see what would drive her to go and fetch it. She did eventually, and it arrived in the company of the only server in the dining room who speaks English. Unfortunately, he didn't have any information to offer about the bottles on the trolley, so I had to have him pull them out and show me the labels. I selected a 1974 Armagnac, and he announced that the sommelier would serve it. I can only conclude that she was timid about discussing the selection with me, perhaps because she has no English, even though I'd been speaking Spanish to her throughout the evening.

Anyway, that's all for the record. No-one should hesitate to go and eat this great food. The Grand Menu is priced at 100 euros - with 57 euro wine, and the 25 euro Armagnac, and an additional cheese course, the total check topped 200, which at a kinder exchange rate would be excellent value. Even so, the cost of the dinner was comparable in cost to a Manhattan four star, for food which, dare I say, no restaurant in New York or London (although I've yet to visit Per Se) comes close to equalling.

[omnivorette]

I'm dying over here. I can't possibly face my lunch options after that.