Small Plates
Is small plate fine dining just posh tapas?
For a while the line between higher-end tapas and small plates fine dining has blurred. What is the difference?
Soma bar
I reckon posh tapas, at places like Bar Cañete or Cal Pep (both incredible) is generally more traditional, morsels are on display on the bar, and can usually be ordered as you go along. The small plates joints are more innovative, hipper, younger. You eat off mis-matched vintage china, and for the best, such as Berbena or Gresca you book well-ahead and keep an open mind about what dinner might involve.
That line is further blurred by numerous creative, modern tapas joints that haven’t let go of bravas but still have the potential to surprise. The joy of these, like Bar del Pla or Soma, is that you may get away with booking the same week, or occasionally – halleluiah - not at all.
The Small Plate. I love not worrying about being presented with a massive portion of not-what-I-expected. Also the chance to try lots of different dishes. But then again there can be some truth in the Venn diagram: small plates + big bill = still hungry. There was that time at Dos Pebrots, our only venture into the territory of El Bulli alumni. Extraordinary, a lot of fun, but had to stop off for donuts afterwards. Or a recent visit to Ibérica in London’s Marylebone where small plates tapas were just downright stingy portions.
Sometimes the format works a treat. If ever there was a case for the small plate, it’s Barcelona hot-spot Berbena. It’s often described as casual neighbourhood dining. It may have been once, but by May 2024 when we get there, it’s a book-for-your-birthday destination.
Berbena exterior
With our arrival all 24 excited diners of the 9.45 pm sitting are on the pavement waiting to be let in, simultaneously, theatrically, when the kitchen is ready to do so. It’s been well and truly discovered by the foodie tourist crowd. The food feels super local, fresh, organic, unpasteurised, inventive, considered. You order dishes to share, which should be spaced evenly down the menu, as each particular dish is served to everyone who has ordered it at once, giving a kind of sense of occasion, supper club vibe as all the beefs come out at once. It’s a system that works around the kitchen rather than the diner. This is in no way a criticism – it’s probably the only way to make a cooking of this quality work commercially, and also creates a more communal, buzzy atmosphere.
Casual, relaxed? Well there are shabby-chic bare brick walls, the staff are friendly. There’s nothing intimidating or starched here, but still no, not casual. This is what a posh restaurant looks like in 2024.
We’re at the chef’s table, a marble slab that is also the kitchen pass (we seem to have been upgraded as an apology for a small admin error – an over-and-above but welcome gesture) and have a close-up view of the tight kitchen focus.
The food – exquisite stuffed courgette flower with whipped cheese, cecina, squid, beef cheek, memorable bread with smoked butter is explained dish-by-dish by (many!) servers. But not over-explained, which can be a thing. Perfect raw ingredients, not too messed-about, but with creative and careful attention to detail. With absolutely no need for late night donuts.
It reminds me of a place in Copenhagen, only there we’d be eating wild berries off wonky artisan pottery and paying more.
Berbena is a tiny independent business where it all really matters – from the correspondence (before and after!) to each perfectly formed small plate. We’ve seen The Bear, we get it.
Similarly special is Gresca, also in a nice, buzzy but not too touristy, area. Finding it tricky to get an on-line reservation I popped in and the off-duty staff happily booked us in. They, like Berbena, have not let their wild popularity go to their head.
It’s in two halves – original bar on the left (always the best place to eat, but good luck, it’s not big), and more recent restaurant extension on the right, where we’re sat, mainly with locals.
Apparently it’s not to everyone’s taste, but I loved the emerald Formica tables and fringed lighting – a meeting of retro, trad and contemporary cool that signals the food to come.
Gresca chocolate tart
Expertly executed morsels on mis-matched china, natch, with twists on classics. Highlights included the bikini - a small, rich, deep-fried treasure of comté and jamon ibérica (the fancy bikini is a thing in Barcelona), the gilda (ditto) and a rich chocolate tart. Natural wines are the drunk (not unusual, but particularly good here). We loved the Miranius, an organic Xarel.lo from Penedés.
Neither Berbena nor Gresca are cheap, but both are good value. Either could easily get a Michelin star at any moment, so go while you can….