Full Belly Files | Best Bites from Our European Escape

Sunrise in Maury

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When it comes to vacations, I was once a fervent believer in never going to the same place twice. Life is short, and airfare isn’t cheap, so why not see something new every time you go anywhere?

So I embarked on our family’s recent two-week European escapade with an ever-so-slight indifference, seeing that the arc of our journey — Barcelona to Bordeaux to San Sebastian — covered grounds that we’d previously trod on past adventures.

Of course, with so much to eat, drink, and experience, from tapas near the towers of Sagrada Familia to pintxos above the sun-soaked sands of La Concha, I had nothing to worry about. In fact, I’m a little surprised to report that my entire opinion on travel is in flux. Could the richness provided by returning to the same places actually outweigh the flashy spice that decorates everywhere brand-new?

Don’t get me wrong: I hope to never stop exploring lands where I’ve never been. But I’ll be proudly heading back to my favorites as well, and I’ll never again question why others do the same.

Those who followed our journey on Instagram, where I posted nearly 400 photos on four sets of SpainFrance2024 stories, might see why. Our trip was a lifelong memory-creating mashup of big cities, small villages, fancy bites, casual eats, and attractions huge and homey.

I like to think we took this vacation at an ideal age for our kids, who are 12 and 14, to appreciate and remember the meaningful parts. I’m all for traditional schooling — Madeline started at La Colina this week, and Mason is a freshman at Dos Pueblos — but I’ve learned way more by traveling than I ever did in class. And unlike school, which tends to end in youth, the lessons of travel never cease.

Madeline shows off the stained glass of Sagrada Família

In an effort to make our highlights easy to enjoy, I’m breaking it down into segments that may appeal to different readers’ interests. If you want more info, contacts, or further advice on exploring any of these spots, feel free to email me. I’m happy to share more of what I learned.

Eye-Opening Experiences: Our trip started in Barcelona, where the Sagrada Família looms large as must-see numero uno. (Tourists have overrun much of the city, so we smartly rented an apartment in the still-mostly-local neighborhood called Gràcia.) I’d seen Gaudi’s masterpiece vision from the outside before, but the mind-bending color scheme enabled by the rainbows of stained glass inside is even more impressive. It’s worth either the wait or the fee for a tour…

Thanks to recently visiting Dave Phinney’s Our Lady of Guadalupe Vineyard near Lompoc, I learned that he owns Department 66 winery in Maury, France. So we stopped there to stay overnight in the tiny village and meet winemaker Richard Case. You can read about our tasting and dinner below, but the chance to wander among century-old grenache vines in the remote Pyrenees was rivaled only by our spotting of a massive bird of prey, most likely a short-toed snake eagle, with a wingspan approaching six feet….

In Bordeaux, where my wife was born and raised until 5 years old, we stayed at the home of her lifelong friends. On the day we ventured into the city, it was a treat to see my kids freely enjoy pink sips of Rosita Bomba in the open air, matter-of-factly encouraged by the staff at Michel’s Bistro. The next day, my son rented clubs and went golfing solo, which sounded like a very unique outing.

[Click to enlarge] From left: Veal andouillette at Michel’s in Bordeaux; Mason golfs outside of Bordeaux

Our door was directly to the right of the stage for this Basque concert in St. Jean Pied de Port.

The morning we drove to St.-Jean-Pied-de-Port, the charming owner of our rental informed us that a Basque youth association was hosting a concert outside of our apartment that evening. She offered to put us elsewhere, but we thought it might be cool. As we hauled our bags up the cobblestone road, we found a stage erected on our literal doorstep, with a hundred or so people gathering to watch the show. The next morning the same scene’s utter silence was only broken by the footsteps of pilgrims beginning their Camino de Santiago….

It happened to be “Gran Semana” when we got to San Sebastián, making this summertime Spanish mecca all the more packed. As we cut the heat and humidity by dipping into the salty sea that rings La Concha, the loudest noise was not waves but the roar of thousands who packed the beach. In the evenings, swimsuits were exchanged for ciders and beers as fireworks exploded above. On our last day there, after riding the antiquated amusements atop Monte Igeldo, we witnessed a hot-blooded fight between a muscled middle-aged man and older woman, the subject of which remains a mystery to us. But there was cake thrown everywhere….

In Bilbao, the last stop on our journey primarily for airport reasons, the Guggenheim was worth a gander.

[Click to enlarge] Scenes from the Guggenheim in Bilbao

Fancy Bites: We’ve trained our kids to appreciate and mostly enjoy gourmet cuisine, which allows us to dine at fancy restaurants with relative ease, so long as you don’t count the bank account damage. Too many of those sorts of meals is tough on the schedule and stomach, but we scheduled enough to understand a little bit about what the finer chefs in these corners of Europe are up to.

Scallops with pea foam at Babula in Barcelona

While fighting off our red-eye haze and awaiting the keys to our Barcelona apartment, our first meal at Babula qualified as fancy, though we just needed a place to sit. Normandy oysters in tigre de leche, 45-day-aged picanha carpaccio, and scallops with guanciale, almond cream, and pea foam topped the menu. It was also our introduction to Barcelona’s vermouth tradition, which we carried on judiciously for the next few days. A propitious start.

Our most haute tweezer cuisine came via a recommendation from Tara Penke, co-owner of Gala in Santa Barbara who also owns a restaurant called Picnic in Barcelona.

The seafood-centered prix-fixe dinner at Direkte Boqueria was bonkers, pairing shellfish and finfish with all sorts of things — watermelon juice, smoke cherries, carrot puree, fig leaf oil, shaved peach, cracker made of shrimp heads — that you wouldn’t predict. (The free-flowing wine pairing was a plus.) As directed, I emailed for a menu to recall the specifics of what I consumed, but they never responded.

The 14-seat scene at Direkte in Barcelona

The next evening’s dinner at Maleducat was a very close second in terms of creativity, but took first when it came to Catalonian traditions. There was a crunchy, poultry-filled tube called rostit; oysters in chicken broth; blue fin tartare with smoked egg yolk, miso, and pickle; fideuà noodles with pork rib and cod tripe; the roasted pigeon special; and a tonka-bean-based dessert.

[Click to enlarge] From left: Shrimp head sauce over shrimp at Maleducat in Barcelona; Espelette-speckled chicken at l’Envers du Decor in St. Emilion

Most of our Bordeaux meals were casual, but Joanna and I did book a lunch in the historic wine hub — and current tourist zone — of St. Emilion. Suggested by Crown Point winemaker Simon Faury — he’s French, so he must know! — l’Envers du Décor hit all the right notes, from the melon soup, to the tomato salad, to the Espelette pepper crumble-topped chicken. I opted for chartreuse for dessert.

Joanna’s ambitious shellfish order at Casa Camara

San Sebastian’s pintxos scene is mostly casual in nature, but we found seats at a newer spot called Ssua, and I’d throw their modernized dishes — baby squid ink rice, shrimp-chipotle croquette, pork cheek taco, charcoal-grilled secreto — into the fancy category.

Thanks to a recommendation from Samsara’s winemaker Matt Brady, we took a 10-minute cab ride to the port at Pasaia, then a cute ferry ride across the harbor to reach Casa Cámara, a restaurant that dates back to 1884. The food wasn’t cheap, but the drinks were, and we went deep into the seafood fare: Dublin Bay prawns, fish-stuffed peppers, a tuna-laced tomato salad, whole sea bream, hake in thick pil pil sauce, and, for Joanna, a full plate of shellfish. Then the kicker: watching as lobsters were yanked straight from the sea into the dining room.

Casual Grub: Most of our meals were more on the casual side: freshly baked breads and pastries from Forn Lacatarga on our square in Barcelona; cod-stuffed peppers and papas bravas on the same square from Bar Canigó; a dinner of pork, mussels, and sausage grilled over old grapevines with winemaker Richard Case and his wife, Sarah Case, at Le Pichenouille in Maury.

There were also pintxos galore in San Sebastian, our longest stint being at Bar La Cepa, and our latest at the historic Gandarias after the fireworks, as well as chocolate-dipped popsicles at Locopolo, which would succeed here in a flash freeze.

Edgy Eats: Traveling in foreign lands does present foodstuffs that push even our rather adventurous California boundaries.

Grapevines ready for grilling at Le Pichenouille in Maury

In that vein, we tried a very savory, slightly funky veal intestine sausage called andouillette at Michel’s in Bordeaux; another intestinal treat called grenier médocain, which is a specialty of the Medoc side of the Garonne River, at our friend Pascal’s home; and another local charcuterie called gratton de Lormont at Martine and Patrick’s house (that one was more like tasty ham, not so edgy).

During a lunch on the road in St.-Jean-de-Luz, a hefty plate of massive Arcachon oysters; juicy, cold, brain-exploding shrimp; and an ambitious pile of whelks still in their shells. Those last snail-like treats were a bit tough to chew down, though had a flavor similar to abalone.

Madeline and Mason eye the whelks and oysters with suspicion in St.-Jean-de-Luz.

Wine Buzzes: Since wine is my daily work, I didn’t make it a centerpiece of this trip….

However, we did taste quite a bit of bold grenache, syrah, mourvèdre, and carignane with Richard Case at Department 66, as well as from bottles of his own brand Domaine Pertusiane, which I found a touch more elegant. I learned a bit about “hairy grenache,” a k a lledoner pelut, a variety that hasn’t quite touched our shores, as far as I know.

In Bordeaux, my wife and I took a private tour of Chateau Angelus, which has long championed cabernet franc in the merlot-dominant region of St. Emilion. The winery is under intense renovation, after which time the tanks will be suspended from the ceiling. (It’s as wacky as it sounds.) We tasted two bottles, the 2020 Carillon (more affordable label, at $125-ish a bottle) and the 2016 Angelus, which comes in closer to $500 a pop. Both were fantastic, the Angelus striking that super-next-level chord that I only experience once or so a year. Graciously, they don’t sell wine there, so I wasn’t compelled to break any banks.

I did, however, buy a couple bottles of Bordeaux at Comptoir des Vignobles in St. Emilion to enjoy that night over dinner at Martine and Patrick’s a Chateau Belle-Vue Haut-Medoc from 2009 (Mason’s birth year) and a Chateau Roc de Boisseaux Saint-Emilion Grand Cru from 2012 (Madeline’s birth year). Both were under €50, and both were still in their prime.

I can’t get enough txakolina, the zesty, nearly effervescent white wine grape poured throughout Basque country, particularly in San Sebastian. It’s overtaken my fascination with the region’s cider, and I could drink it all day, every day.

More Time Needed: There were a few spots that will require return trips to further investigate, perhaps sooner rather than later.

Our bathroom stop in Girona turned into a quick lunch of sandwiches and charcuterie at The River Café, located at the foot of a cathedral, with downriver views that reminded me of Florence. I’ve since heard many people speak of Girona’s glories, and it makes a perfect homebase to explore the Emporda wine region, the Dalí museum in Figueres (which we only drove by), and the Costa Brava, including Cadaques.

The medium-sized French city of Pau, nestled in the foothills of the Pyrenees, sported that energy of a spot-on-the-verge. There’s plenty of history to learn, a number of solid wine shops and restaurants (see creperie above), and what felt like a vibrant scene, even in just two hours there….

It was my second time in St.-Jean-de-Luz, the last seaside town before France becomes Spain. Imposing shellfish plate aside (see above), the thrilling white wine I had at lunch by Vins Egiategia had apparently been aged for some time in the sea just off the coast. Given my experience with underwater wine here in Santa Barbara, that’s enough to pull me back for another taste.