There is a triad that must be in order for a restaurant visit to become enshrined as something more than a meal but a memory and an experience: quality, service, setting. We stumbled upon El Restaurante Los Cabanas after visiting the engaging archeology site of a Roman Villa in the small town of Almedinilla. We would all declare with great certainty that it would go down as one of the best experiences of the trip-the restaurant that is (and mind you, the Roman Villa was terrific). It was so ‘best’ that we ended up returning the next day before driving on to Cordoba.
Was the food spectacular? Absolutely.
Was the ambience of the restaurant interesting, pleasant and special? Yes.
What tipped the trip into special category was the service.
Kindness is a currency all of its own when you’re traveling and aren’t a native speaker. Although Andalucians have been hospitable and welcoming there is no doubt we are outsiders. It took us weeks to figure out that most stores closed at 2 and wouldn’t re-open until 5. It took us many hungry nights to ascertain that between 6-7 was wildly early for dinner and tapas were the only choice at that indecent hour. Dining at 9-10 was the norm and if you want breakfast in Andalucia you better get used to baguette, olive oil and tomato puree and possibly a sliver of garlic.
Menus come fast and furious because you’re being told a list of first and second courses that often number in 4-5 choices in each category. Almost all the restaurants we have visited have one person waiting the tables (unless it’s like our beloved Patio Andaluz that had 1:40 ratio going that was a sight to see). We could write about the food endlessly at Restaurante Los Cabanas but what really felt like a gift was the window into a Spanish family and a way of life.
Gregorio and Rafael are a father and son team. Gregorio the father stays behind the bar dishing up beer, wine and coffee. He is the creative force behind the decor. When we first met Rafael- his son who is a waiter extraordinaire, I asked whether the boar on the wall was from the region. He replied, “I’m not sure, my Dad got him.” In a swift two minutes, he returned announcing the boar was ‘from the Granada area’.
We came to learn that Gregorio had been in the restaurant business ‘all of his life.’ We came to know the chef, wife to Gregorio and ‘Mama’ to Rafael through her cooking and warm smile. Second eldest in a family with 15 children, Rafael reported she’d spent most of her childhood cooking and the transition to teaming up with Gregorio was a natural one.
When Rafael told us about his ‘Mama’ it brought the food into context. The food epitomized ‘home-cooking’, ‘soul food’, or sometimes what is called ‘comfort food’. Imagine the dish you most crave when you think about your favorite food or the food that reminds you of home. Every dish at Los Cabanas was like having that food your body most desires.
Rafael was one of the most attentive and kind waiters any of us have ever experienced. He was earnest, speedy, accommodating and best of all, did his job with a million-dollar smile. He would come in close and ask how you liked your dish, if you needed anything or just check in on how you were doing- he did it in a way that made you feel cared for in a genuine way. The food made even more sense when you got a glimpse of what kind of human being had been raised by the chef.
We ended up buying a big round of cheese from Toledo, wine and two giant cans of the best olives ever! When we say cans we mean liter size! We’re not sure how we’ll ship it home yet. The food was that good that it didn’t seem to matter to know if it was possible to ship it, we just knew we needed to try.
As we left the first day Rafael had already excused himself (as usual I think our timing for eating was a bit off); we left the restaurant after taking this shot of our goods with Gregorio:
On our way out the door we realized that Gregorio was joining his wife (possibly his daughter?) and a friend at a table near the door. They already had a bottle of wine open, a giant plate of Fava Beans ready to consume along with a giant helping of sliced jamon serrano and the ubiquitous olive oil. Gregorio’s wife beamed and said, ‘We do it this way- only a bit of olive oil!’ Here’s what their table looked like: (can you guess which one 'Mama' is? The smile was hereditary!)
The next day after not much debate we returned for a second meal, a meal we knew would be our last at Los Cabanas. As we walked in Rick and Tata had hushed and sincere words with Rafael who was beaming his mega-smile. When we asked what it was about they sheepishly admitted they’d forgotten to tip Rafael with all the food purchases at the end of our previous meal. You would have never suspected from the way Rafael greeted us at the door- the pride, the idea that this is a way of life not just for him but for his entire family was clear.
Rafael shepherded us back to a table in front of a raging fire of olive wood. A beautiful rocking chair sat in front, a table set for 30 was ready to go in the corner; we assumed it was always set for that many in the hopes a party of that size would stop by. The huge bull’s head over the fire, the fact that the building was an old wine bodega and the ubiquitous wooden beams made the setting something out of Hollywood. Rafael’s attention made it something out of your family’s kitchen (if they are chef’s!!).
(Julie- thanks for the dress that just won't stop giving!)
When we walked in the second day the refrigerator case was jam-packed with desserts. Here's Baby-O studying the case in question the day before (can you see the rounds of cheese above her and some of the smaller vials of olives below?):
My last image of Rafael’s mother was her warm smile over a glass of wine she’d be sharing with her husband and friends in the very late afternoon. I knew they’d likely been open until midnight serving ‘dinner’- I had to ask Rafael, ‘When does your mother do it? When does she make dessert? How does she find the time?’ He waved a hand and flashed a smile, ‘oh, she makes a pudding here, a dish there in the afternoon between 4-6’
Every single dish from appetizers to main dishes like Paella, a variety of soups, meats and fish had all been made ‘by my Mama’--- we caught sight of her many times and she never seemed hurried or disturbed, it’s as if she were an octopus in the kitchen!
When the time came to order dessert I was stuck between Lemon Mousse and Arroz con Leche--I keep feeling like I should branch out. I asked Rafael for a suggestion and with only a quick pause he said, ‘Arroz con Leche. It is a specialty of my mother’s.’ It was the very best Arroz con Leche I have ever had in my entire life. (I’ve had this dessert almost every day for a month! I LOVE this dessert!) It was sublime and delicious, holding some kind of secret twist in the recipe.
I have loved arroz con leche for as long as I can remember. When I was a little girl it would be made as a treat. As I grew up it would be made as a request. Now that I have my own family it’s a dish I make not as a dessert but something that has been altered to be worthy of breakfast, snack and dessert- we love arroz con leche. It stands for rice with milk which might seem strange. It’s not. Imagine custardy pudding with cinnamon, orange, lemon and vanilla wafting up at you.
I asked Rafael if she’d be willing to give us the recipe. He laughed and said, ‘I can ask her but she’ll say no. Everyone asks her for it.’ We joked and said, ‘We’re not from the neighborhood, we won’t be competition.’ Rafael came back and with an arched brow of surprise he reported she’d agreed to give it to me but would have to send it via email because there wasn’t time now. For during the last part of our meal we’d seen a party of 30 arrive and nearly every other table fill up. Rafael never skipped a beat or a smile.
Here's Baby-O playing with a Spanish friend (this happens nearly every time we go out- kids are a fixture here)- Rafael wove in and out of their ball game effortlessly. Can you imagine waiting on the table behind them- there are 30 people:
As we prepared to leave I asked him when they had time together for a family (I’m pretty certain a sister was whisking in and out of the kitchen) and gestured to the gads of people. With no hesitation and his trademark smile he declared, ‘Tuesday night. After we serve lunch we close the doors.’
I will imagine them eating like kings. Rafael will be smiling and Gregorio will be laughing the short, deep laugh that we heard a number of times as we checked out both days. The matriarch? I hope she’ll be putting her feet up! I’m crossing my fingers that the recipe will arrive to my email which I carefully printed out on to Rafael’s notepad.
Unfortunately, I had to promise and swear I wouldn’t share it with a soul. You can bet I’ll be making it. Maybe in the afternoon. Hopefully with as much composure as Rafael’s mom.
What struck me about this experience at Los Cabanas is how deeply they cared about making people satisfied. They did it with their own happiness and in doing so, created much happiness. Rafael had the idea of adding whipped cream to Baby-O's strawberries- her reaction somes it up nicely:
Tata keeps exclaiming almost every time we eat, "To the Spaniards, cooking is an extension of the home. To them, it is as if they are greeting you in their house and so hospitality takes on whole new proportions." (Anyone who knows Tata knows he really talks like this! I'm probably slaughtering his eloquence.)
As we drove out of town, completely satiated but a little sad to be leaving Los Cabanas behind, we looked upon the little valley that held the village of Almedinilla. It was a thing of beauty. No wonder they produce it too.
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