Just Cooking, Thanks

Tapas are the culinary equivalent of a shopping spree: you really only grasp the damage once you’ve tallied up the individual prices and get home with a lot of extra weight. 

For someone who would much rather have a nose around a farmers market than a department store, tapas are exciting beyond belief.  I get as wide-eyed over a plate of three manchegos as some women might get at the sight of a stack of Manolos.

I tried to explain this to a date last year.  “Come on,” he pressed, “If you had a lot more disposable income you’d get the shoes, too.”  Hmm, no, not really.  I’d just get myself to Italy more often.  For mozzarella.  He didn’t get me, and if my mind hadn’t been on the sticky toffee pudding in front of me I would have realised then and there that he and I wouldn’t be getting anywhere.

Now where was I?  Tapas.  I was meeting Andrea, whom I hadn’t seen in way too long.  I hadn’t been to Salt Yard in quite a while, either.  Google.  Egad!  Salt Yard has just opened a sister restaurant in SoHo.  Dehesa follows the same concept of Spanish and Italian tapas.  But there’s no reserving, adding to the need-it-now factor. 

So I arrive right on time for a change and sit down to a glass of Borsao.  The mix-and-match approach lends itself perfectly to food combining, my latest project.  This was going to be my protein meal, so my challenge was to lay off the carbs (I had already had a falafel wrap at World Café for lunch). 

It was easy on the tongue if not, predictably, on the wallet.  Mackerel, my favourite super food, is done poetically here a la plancha with quince, apple and pear alioli (£5.50). Another protein hit came from a poached egg atop braised Swiss chard in tomato sauce (£4.95).  It was nothing special, but that’s what I get for deviating from their famous deep-fried courgette flowers stuffed with cheese and bathed in honey.  I tried some of Andrea’s grilled mussels, the evening’s bargain at £3.50.  I said no to her salt cod croquetas (£4) and patatas bravas (£3.50).  Meanwhile, I kept popping bright green, sea-salted padron peppers (£3.50).

We had half-a-dozen plates before us at any given time, and we were still hungry.  When it comes to tapas, the size of the bill is indirectly proportional to that of the portions.  And Dehesa cleverly does communal dining, so a covetous glance at the dessert next to us sealed the deal: figs roasted in sherry with homemade burnt lemon ice cream (£5).  Sexy, divine figs turned up to a seductive degree I’d never tasted.

Undoubtedly, tapas trumps shopping any day.  Unlike the later, you never really know how much you’ve consumed.  Thankfully, you can’t really return anything, either.

Dehesa is at 25 Ganton Street, W1F 9BP.  A bit far from where I saw this sign, but nonetheless applicable.

Comments

[Alan]

If you like to cook a la plancha, check out the modern plancha at www.evoamerica.com.

[aforkfulofspaghetti]

Interesting. I'm a fan of the Salt Yard, and have just been recommended the Dehesa by the owner of my local favourite eaterie. Sounds like the food is pretty similar (predictably), but disappointing to hear that they may be stinting on portion sizes.