The Catalan ensaïmada is more than just a pastry – the sweet, spiral-shaped bread covered in powdered sugar serves as a direct link to the ancient Sephardic Jewish history of Spain and, more specifically, the Balearic Island of Mallorca (Majorca, in English). Despite the Jewish connection, the name of the pastry actually comes from the Catalan word for lard, saïm, and literally means “mixed with lard.” According to recent research conducted by the Majorcan pastry chef and culinary anthropologist Tomeu Arbona, ensaïmadas are Christianized relatives of an ancient Jewish bread baked on the island, similar to braided challah.

Barcelona’s old bodegas are resilient specimens. Despite facing the forces of development and gentrification, they have had an incredible capacity for preservation, remaining one of the few businesses in the city still alive with the same energy of decades past. The strong attachment of locals in Barcelona to the magnetic personality of their neighborhood bodega is the secret of these survivors’ evolutionary strength. Bodega Josefa, located in El Farró neighborhood’s Lesseps, is one such bodega. Originally a 1920s cellar and shop for bulk wine called Casa Paco, now the bodega offers one of the best homey lunch menus and vermut aperitifs in the area, as well as stomping grounds for neighborhood FC Barcelona fans.

After a year like the one we are about to leave behind, the feeling of a good bite has a double meaning and a double feeling: it combines a great dish with the happy return of sitting down for a restaurant meal. It was a year of lockdowns, restrictions and uncertainty but, somehow, we also managed to scrounge up resilience, recovery and renewal. While some favorites shuttered for good, other neighborhood icons, like Bodega Salvat in Sants, were able to reconnect with their past and move forward. From our dinner table in Barcelona to the first post-lockdown Culinary Backstreets trip on the opposite coast of Spain, here are our greatest gastronomic moments this past year.

Typically eaten at Christmastime in Spain, turrón (a type of nougat) originated centuries ago. Some historians believe it was a sweet paste with nuts eaten by athletes in ancient Rome, while others trace its origins to a more elaborate medieval Arab delicacy that combined various toasted nuts with spices and honey. First documented in Spanish by an Arab physician writing in 11th- century Andalusia, “turun” may have been introduced to the Iberian Peninsula by Arabs or Jews from North Africa during the period of al-Andalus. Either way, by the 16th century, the Spanish aristocracy was crazy about turrón, and its popularity eventually spread to all social classes and to other parts of Europe. Over time, this sweet with ancient culinary roots was further refined, becoming Spain’s most popular Christmas treat.

Caga Tió, Tió de Nadal No cagues arengadas Que són saladas Caga torróns Que són més bons It’s not a carol, but it is likely the most popular song in Catalonia around Christmastime. Please pardon the profanity necessary in rendering a faithful translation: “Shit, Log, Christmas Log/Don’t shit herrings/Which are salty/Shit nougats/Which are better.” You might also hear Caga Tió/Avellanas i mató/Si no cagas be,/Et dare un cop de bastó. “Shit, Log/Hazelnuts and mató [curd cheese]/If you don’t shit well/I’ll hit you with a stick.”

Every fall, traditional Catholic families join together to pray and honor the dead, bringing candles and flowers to cemeteries and sharing meals at home. For many, Mexico’s colorful Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) celebrations come to mind. In Spain, this type of holiday takes the form of All Saints’ Day, a Christian appropriation of the Celtic Samhain, the night of the dead. It has also become closely connected with the joyful and ancient pagan celebration of the end of the harvest, marked by the festival called Castanyada (in Catalonia) or Magosto (in other parts of Spain). Throughout Spain and Portugal, people gather to eat roasted castañas (chestnuts) and other seasonal foods, drink the first young wine of the year and enjoy the last warm weather before winter.

Back in the day, weary travelers in Spain could make a stop at a village fonda, a type of inn or tavern, for a hearty meal and a place to rest their heads. Today, in Latin America, fonda has a more contemporary meaning, including popular restaurants and cantinas serving food and drinks. Both rely on down-home, no-frills fare. But at Fonda Pepa in Barcelona, chefs Pedro Baño and Paco Benítez have taken this concept to new gastronomic heights. The restaurant has the easygoing vibe of a village canteen, with the flavors of a royal kitchen. It was the Covid-19 pandemic that gave the Catalan Pedro and Mexican Paco the last little push they needed to jump into a new personal adventure.

This may come as a surprise, even to locals, but Barcelona has its own “urban” vineyards and winery. Located inside an old masía (farmhouse) in Collserola Natural Park, a vast greenspace on the edge of Barcelona’s northwestern city limits, the winery – originally a project established by the Barcelona City Council – uses grenache and syrah grapes grown in those vineyards to produce an outstanding full-bodied blend. But more than simply a winery, the project, known as Can Calopa-L’Olivera, is also an effort to provide city dwellers some important lessons about sustainability and the existence of alternative economies. At the same time, it allows agricultural life to make a healing return to the urban sphere, something Barcelona locals started thinking about more seriously during the Covid crisis.

While many city folks feel the call of Mother Nature and dream of moving to the countryside, Francesco Cerutti had a different idea: “Why not bring the country to the city?” Always innovating, he is trying to “ruralify” Barcelona through an activity that has been strictly connected with pastures, shepherds and the like: cheesemaking. In 2019, Francesco opened a cheese shop in the city’s Gràcia neighborhood, but he doesn’t just sell dairy goods here. Pinullet is a workshop where customers can see, and even participate in, the rustic and ancient art of transforming simple milk into sophisticated, mouthwatering cheeses. Originally from Pavia in northern Italy, Francesco studied agricultural and livestock sciences so that he could be a veterinarian for cows and pigs.

When perusing the menu at any traditional restaurant in Barcelona, one is sure to find a range of paellas and seafood plates. A closer look will also reveal the fideuá, its main ingredient left a mystery. Sometimes done up as fideos arrosejats in Catalonia, fideuá is actually a variation of the iconic seafood paella, but in this case made with fideo (short, thin wheat noodles) instead of rice and served with an intense allioli sauce on the side. Fideuá traces its roots to the Valencian port town of Gandía. According to the Asociación Gastronómica Fideuà de Gandia, the dish was created around 1912-1914 on board the fishing trawler Santa Isabel. The boat would depart at 4am each morning and return in the evenings, meaning the six sailors on board would dine on deck.

Generations of inhabitants of the modern-day Italian peninsula may have learned the art of aromatized ices and frozen fruits and puddings from the East (China, Persia, etc.) – perhaps it was the Ancient Romans or Marco Polo or the Crusaders who introduced some variation of these cold treats. But it is the Italian Francesco Procopio who is considered to be the father of modern gelato. In 1660, he created the first machine to mix sugar, ice and fruit to make “cream.” With less fat, less air, no egg and a slower churning process than traditional ice cream, gelato has taken over from Spain’s traditional orxateries. As Barcelona residents melt under soaring August temperatures, biding their time for a holiday getaway and continuing to battle the Covid variants, the one thing that provides some relief is the city’s stellar gelato scene.

My memories of helados (ice cream) as a kid in the small Galician town of Vigo in the 80s are mostly of the signs outside kiosks advertising Colajets (a cola and lemon flavored popsicle) and Frigo Pies (strawberry ice cream shaped like a foot) – colorful, industrial fantasies on a stick. The quality ice creams of my town were represented by two unique parlors (Di San Remo and Capri), which always had long lines in the summer. However, these places were reserved for very special Sundays. Barcelona’s version of such traditional spots were the Valencian turronerías and horchaterías (orxaterias in Catalan), where locals could get tasty helados with a more artisanal bent. But as the city grows, many of these longstanding places have been disappearing, leaving Barcelona something of a dry desert when it comes to small-batch ice cream.

At first glance, Berbena, a restaurant in Gràcia, resembles a small, pretty tree with dazzling foliage – it offers a sophisticated and complex dining experience. But the restaurant’s delicate attributes, those pretty leaves, wouldn’t be possible without a carefully tended trunk and roots. In short, the basics matter, something that its creator, chef Carles Pérez de Rozas, decided after years spent in high-end kitchens. Carles had a culinary education par excellence: After studying at the prestigious Hofmann School, a culinary institution in Barcelona, he worked at several Michelin-starred restaurants in Catalonia, such as Drolma, Saüc, and Carmen Ruscalleda’s iconic Sant Pau. A job in the restaurant at the Hotel de Ville de Crissier brought him to Switzerland; he then spent a short and intense period in France with the great chef Michel Bras. In Japan, he trained alongside Seiji Yamamoto, in his Tokyo restaurant Nihonryori RyuGin, adding more notches of refined knowledge to his belt.

At Bodega Salvat in the Sants neighborhood, large wooden wine barrels perched on high shelves almost touch the ceiling, looking down on those drinking below with more than 100 years of local history. For several generations of Sants residents, this old bodega, opened in 1880 by the Salvat Vidal family as a bulk wine store, is a fixture of daily life. Now, after a few decades of being run by others, Bodega Salvat’s original owners have returned to bring a new shine to their family gem. The Salvat Vidals, who still own the building housing the more-than-100-year-old watering hole, now protected by the Barcelona City Council as an “iconic bodega,” have passed the business on to various owners over the years.

For some inexplicable reason, leche merengada, or meringue milk, a traditional Spanish summer drink, has fallen out of favor over the past few decades – industrial ice creams and sodas, with their multicolored flavors, bubbles and fantasy frozen shapes, have seduced local palates, making this monochrome drink pale in comparison. Well, we say that it’s time to shine the spotlight back on the démodé but delicious and nutritious leche merengada and to revive a drink that was considered opulent in numerous Spanish cities back in the 19th and early 20th centuries, and documented in recipe books from as early as the 18th century.