The charm of Barcelona is not in its town planning, at street level, anyway. A block layout that absorbs the worst of Paris and misses the best of Manhattan whilst in some ways resembling both. Drop a local on a random street corner and it will take several minutes for them to work out where they are. Yet, in Gaudi’s Sagrada Família, the Catalan capital boasts possibly the most incredible piece of world architecture of any epoch, and it’s not even finished yet.

People who think cathedrals are monuments to God, overlook the inconvenient truth that they are temples to civic ego. To be a credible European city in the post Jesus Christ era, is impossible without a Sacré Coeur de Montmartre, a St Paul’s Cathedral, a St Peter’s Basilica. The sort of buildings where cost is not even considered in the rush for mountainous scale, and infinite detail. It is this sort of competition that drives people of mere citizen status to go to the gym, to save up for an amazing dress, to spend untold hours of hard labour on the beach working up the perfect tan, and to eat at places like Catalana.

Typical Catalonian tapas is the order of the day. Pan con tomate, Iberian hams, squid done various ways, tortilla cake. It was served with efficiency and friendliness, but another inconvenient truth is that the food is better in places round the corner.

If you want to be seen with the right breasts, chests and vests, Cervecería Catalana fits the bill. If you want to be fed well I would recommend Mesón Cinco Jotas round the corner where you can see this sort of carving action, and without queuing, eat the most incredible food. Providing you are prepared to sit with mere muggles, of course.

Cervecería Catalana
C/ MALLORCA, 236
08013‎ Barcelona Spain
T: +34 932 160 368

And that meant that ordering Luis Cañas again was not scary, not even from the same merchant.

Mind you, I still opened this bottle with a little trepidation, as my Tesco pizza frazzled in the oven.  It cost me about £20 after all, having arrived as part of a President’s Cellar selection from the STWC.

At first it was a shade bitter but, no worries.  After a bit of air, all the smoothness of the 18 months of oak ageing came through and the wine revealed its fruity, mellow underbelly.  A Spanish wine that tastes more like a Bordeaux and yet goes marvellously with spicy pizza?  That has to be worth £20.

After a gruelling weekend, I am so tired I simply don’t have the energy to write a witty, amusing, or even anything other than perfunctory review.  However, I wanted to say something, because I enjoyed it.

The exterior reminds me more of Southport than Sloane Square.  Twee and much smaller than I imagined, especially on the inside.  FO is no TARDIS.  But, it has Gordon Ramsay as an owner, so I figured the soccer connection was appropriate.

Soup of Leek with wild garlic and (one) “oysters” would have been equally glorious without the bivalve.  My choice of a 1996 Gran Reserva Rioja at £58 was a good bed partner for both the starter and my main, Sirloin of Beef with “the usual” sides, which turned out to be broccoli, cauliflower and unfeasibly crispy and yet fluffy roast potatoes.  Mumbles has the wine at £18.49 which implies a mark-up of almost bang on the London average of ~200%.

In summary, Foxtrot Oscar is a local’s local place.  Very friendly and homely, but with West End standard service and pretty decent cooking.  The wine list is not massive but well chosen and much better priced than, say, Boxwood Café, a now demised rendition of Gordon’s empire that I visited once.  Mind you, the bogs are nowhere near the class of that Knightsbridge establishment.  I had to wait about 20 minutes for a piss, whilst a yummy mummy changed her baby (there is, apparently, insufficient room in the Ladies).

For once I won the “guess the bill” bet with Mrs Wino (but still had to pay anyway).  At £148 including 12.5% service, my estimate was only 82p out.  But then again, I drank a cocktail, a sixty quid bottle of wine, a classy Armagnac, and a doppio macchiato of Italian origin.  Pretty good value for Chelsea, and excellent value for London.

I can only assume that the place was so quiet because the local team (likely to come second or even third in the Premiership, on account of a stale draw with the home of Brown Ale) was playing while we were eating.  If not, then maybe FO will go the same way as BC?  That would be a shame.

And, for the record, I thought the Stoke fans were brilliant both during the match and in defeat.  Very noble, very supportive, very loyal.  I am sure they want me to Foxtrot Oscar but I hope they continue to thrive in the Premiership.

Foxtrot Oscar
79 Royal Hospital Road
Chelsea
London SW3 4HN
T: 020 7352 4448
W: www.gordonramsay.com/foxtrotoscar

But this website is my own personal record that I rely on for my own future advice.  So I reckon it is OK to report wines that I really don’t get on with.  Otherwise I might buy them again in the future, at my own cost.

Malumbres 2009 came to me as part of an end of season mixed rosé case from my most dependable supplier, The Wine Society.  Here, in England, we have experienced an Indian summer, at least in terms of temperature.  I was in London today – early November and 16° C!  That would have charmed June in the 1970′s (OK, 1976 excepted).

But this Spanish wine, that should boast of bull fighting and castanets and taste of sunshine actually couldn’t even outshine a (burnt) microwave massacre# pizza from Sainsbury.  Lacking in acidity and fruit, it reminded me of the place I once worked: The 3 B’s:  Bitter, bland and burnt.

Note to self:  When you look back at this post-senility, BBBs stood for Bradford & Bingley Building Society.  Like Accrington Stanley, who are they?  Precisely…

# Following on from the Sainsbury Basics and, Taste the Difference ranges, Microwave Massacre is the latest Sainsbury lifestyle brand.  Or at least that is my prediction for 2011.

This sort of experience excites the hell out of me and has my salivary glands pissing like a Dutch dyke.

The formal address of Mi Casa is Creuetes, 3.  Middle of nowhere and beyond.  San Juan.  And when you arrive there is only one menu with a couple of minor variations to choose.  That simply yells confidence, if not arrogance.

The tablecloth gives a clue to the menu, quietly announcing “rices”.  Having said that, the opening dishes were innumerable screaming tapas:  A plate of fuet, cheese and roasted almonds.  A Russian salad, puréed rather than shredded that whilst delicious, was more filling than the contents of a shotputter’s jockstrap.  Meanwhile, a self assembly pan con pimienta was a tasty game of edible Jenga.  I need to grow another stomach to truly enjoy this place.

The best of the tapas was Huevos Rotos con patatas a lo pobre. Roughly translated as poor man’s potatoes and eggs, it was scramblers and pots in a pan – the simplest and possibly best omelette I have ever eaten.

The starters having been shuttled to our table at relentless pace it was nice to be given time for a wine breather.  Thank God.  The highly recommended Protos 2006 Crianza Ribera del Duero was rich and spicy yet smooth and oaky.  Perhaps a lighter wine might have suited the climate better although at least it was served at the right (cellar) temperature.

I like to examine the wine markup policy restaurants that I visit.  I was amazed to spot this wine later that afternoon in the duty free shop of Alicante airport at only 30c less than the €14 Mi Casa charged us.  That’s a markup of, well, for all intents and purposes, bugger all!

Negro con Sepia is a paella with squid cooked in it’s own ink.  I can only assume that at least six squid died in the making of this sea monster of a dish.  This is where the dark and deep wine came into a glorious preter-cameo role.  By now I am starting to leak black perspiration on account of the thundering effort my body is exerting trying to digest the constitution pummelling ingredients.

A combination of sleep deprivation, fine wine and overeating starts me nodding like the Churchill dog and I remember I have no health insurance for Spain.  The egg flan and fresh fruit arrives in an attempt to liven me up but fails, joyfully.

This must be one of the best restaurants on the Costa Blanca.  But here’s a tip for newbies.  Don’t eat all the starters.  Well, not if you want to walk out unaided.  Mind you the waitresses are pretty and hot.  I guess being carried out is not such a bad deal.

The bill was a wake up call.  EUR72 for two persons included free beer, free coffee, free limoncello, free water and all but free love.  Let’s just say we left a big tip.  When in Alicante don’t miss this fabulous place…

Mi Casa
Crehuetes, 3
San Juan
Alicante
T: +34 (0) 965 65 51 87
Don’t bother looking for a website or a map – just ask locals

It looks like a solid and dependable tapas bar.  The decor and atmosphere is very appealing.  The staff are welcoming and even speak a bit of English which is very unusual for Alicante.

The oysters were small – looked and tasted like shrivelled rats’ sweetbreads.  But then, with no R in the month I was taking my life in my own hands.

A bottle of Cava – Raventos 2001 Gran Reserva was barely drinkable.  In fact two glasses and two thirds of a bottle headed for the spittoon faster than a Justin Gatlin comeback.  Fortunately two glasses of Luis Canas Rioja were more intoxicating than a Dwain Chambers urine sample.

Once through the Cava and oyster faux pas, it brightened a bit.  A well composed salad was over-dressed, but a plate of freshly carved jamon with tomatoed bread had my tongue somersaulting for days.  Then the lamb chops arrived.  There is something about Spanish lamb.  Skinnier than Naomi Campbell but twice as tasty, although not as bloody as a South African diamond.  A little marinade, seasoning, some simple sautéed potatoes.  Stellar, but not in the McCartney sense.

So was it legendary?  Not quite.  Was it cheap?  Not for the area.  I would rate it third for quality out of the three places we dined, and definitely worst value, but that may be unfair.  Compared to ANY English restaurant, it would hold its own.  Whatever you may think about Spanish cuisine and chew over how Iberian restaurateurs ever make any money due to under-billing, I would strongly recommend that you call in for a tapa or two if you are in Alicante.

La Taberna del Gourmet
Calle de San Fernando, 10
03002 Alicante/Alacant, España
T: +34 965 204 233
W: www.latabernadelgourmet.com

Scrambled egg, asparagus, mushroom and ham was the pick of the dishes we were served.  This is where a picture tells a thousand words, saving me the troubling of thinking any up, much to the annoyance of serious food journalists.

A close second was calamar plancha – food porn of high order.  A whole char-grilled squid with Kenny Everett style crossed legs all ready to reveal a rubbery, slippery, garlicky vulva, and like Cupid Stunt it was all done in the best possible taste.

Agramont Rosé was an agreeable diversion from fine wine.  There’s a time and a place for peap chlonk…and a short break in Spain is a great reason to glug through numerous litres of dog wash.  At €11 per bottle this was actually much better than “cheap” although that was what it cost.

The crowd of diners, compared to the lonely seats at other establishments, confirmed that this is the best place on the marina.  We spent most of the afternoon using bread to mop up the sauce from the squid.  Highly recommended.

The bill, for two, at €72 plus service, included 3 bottles of wine, two liqueurs, 2 espressos, 6 bottles of water and numerous tapas (pretty sure they missed a few, on reflection) was even better value than a second hand yacht, and much more within my meagre credit-crunched reach.

Xe Que Bó,
Muelle 8 – Zona de Levante
Marina Deportiva
Puerto de Alicante (Alicante)
Spain
T: +34 965 20 55 03
W:  t’interwebxequebo.com

Headline:  Queen in tennis court shocker!  Our waiter told me that he had been working at Windows for 7 years and never seen the tennis court in Buckingham Palace Gardens.  Did they cut down trees?  Did the Hilton Tower sprout some extra inches?  Is Kate Middleton a budding Virginia Wade?  Is Galvin’s any good?

First atmosphere.  Being at the top of a Hilton hotel I somehow expected “Disney” tackiness, but I got a cross between The Groucho, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, and an executive helicopter ride.  Immaculately decorated with hyper-impressive views, one can forgive the shabby exterior.

My seafood inspired wine choice was Terras Gauda, Albarińo 2008.  It tasted well balanced after the champagne aperitif.  Pineapple, orange blossom, lavender and violet.  Light, refreshing and one of the few tastes capable of bridging foie gras and turbot.  This wine is currently available at Costco at £11.73.

At Galvin the markup is heading for 300% – pretty hefty even for London, and it is always disappointing that top class restaurants source wines that are readily available at discount warehouse stores.  £46 plus service is expensive, but I must emphasise that the wine is lovely at anything nearer retail price.

The foie, with kumquat purée and warm brioche was a melée of complementary flavours. The Turbot was a melée of flavours but a dischordiant and nerve-jangling combination of textures. My mouth felt more Peter Grimes than Magic Flute.

The Sommelier with the obligatory French accent, under interrogation, turned out to be from Riga.  Despite that, and the fact we liked different wines, he expresses an intelligent opinion.  We agreed to disagree and understood why (in summary he is young and I am middle aged).

But, if you have read about any of my dining experiences, you will know that I am not a food only person.  The whole experience:  Service, atmosphere, wine, comfort, view, taste, flexibility, innovation, friendliness etc.  They all count and Galvin @ Windows is very, very professional.  And if you like your dining fussy, you will love it.  If you like a simple, but excellent steak served by skateboarders, then you might prefer Hawksmoor.  But then again, that isn’t open for Sunday lunch.

The bill for two came to £192 including service which is at the top end of London dining but this is a top end place.

So in short, if you want a view of the Queen’s back yard that is much better than Google Earth, food fit for royalty and service to boot, and you are prepared to pay a King’s ransom, then Galvin is for you.  By the way, Google Earth reveals the tennis court quite clearly so it has probably been there a good while.

Galvin at Windows
22 Park Lane
London
W1K 1BE
T: 020 7208 4021
M: reservations@galvinatwindows.com
W:  www.galvinatwindows.com

A third is revealed under analysis from the taste buds.  No immediate overpowering flavours (not even oak), but gentle autumn fruits, Indian spices and vanilla pods.  Not even overpowering legs since the ABV is a very amenable 13.5%.

Excellent with rump steak.  Mine came from the Sunday Times Wine Club “President’s Cellar” collection which usually implies a price tag of about 20 quid a bottle.

If you have never been to Laguardia I highly recommend it.  Here is a quick sample:

I was fortunate enough to try the 2004 Reserva before release on a visit to the winery in 2008.  Combined with the weight of expectation of this vintage (do brilliant Riojas always come from years ending in the number 4?) and a tasting atmosphere warmer than nestling amongst Joan’s perfect bosom, I did find it a little tannic.

I have managed to resist sampling the released wine until now, whereupon I was not surprised to find it still a little teabag like.

If you like your Riojas gentle, smooth and vanilla-ridden you should keep this in the cellar for another 10 years.  However, if you don’t mind a bit of mouth-puckering tannic acidity combined with rich luscious flavours of leather, spice, cigars and fruit then drink now.  It is like imbibing a gentleman’s club in a glass – pure unadulterated masculine luxury.