The Russian poet Anna Akhmatova said that there is nothing more tedious than someone else’s dreams or someone else’s fornication. I would add someone else’s meals to the list. Yet here I go.
I am in many ways the wrong person to write about a dining experience. For one, I have mixed feelings about restaurants. Often, I walk away thinking how mediocre the meal was. Rarely is it bad, but just as rarely is it memorable. My dissatisfaction expands when I look at the bill. What I ate was fine, but the bill suggests that it was superb. It wasn’t.
Plus, I do not have very discriminating taste buds. Don’t ask me to identify a flavor in something I’ve eaten. I won’t be able to do it. I know what I like, but beyond that I am generally lost.
Finally, writing about food is an art I cannot master. Great food writers – and they are few and far between – can make you salivate with their gastronomic descriptions. Somehow, they recreate a complex taste in a way I cannot fathom. If you’re hoping to get that here, stop reading now.
All that being said, once in a blue moon I am surprised by a restaurant that provides a dining experience exhibiting creativity and originality. Most importantly, the food tastes so damn good that the flavors linger in your mind long after they’ve left your palate. That is an undeniable pleasure and begs to be shared.
Recently I had such an experience. It was at a restaurant in the Getsemani neighborhood of Cartagena, Columbia called Celele. The restaurant was touted as the Latin America’s 6th best restaurante. I am generally skeptical of such rankings, but in this case, it lived up to its billing.
Celele presents contemporary Caribbean cuisine based on the culinary and cultural diversity of Columbia. Every item is locally sourced, and the menu changes seasonally. The owner of the restaurant spent two years “surveying the territory, inventorying products, recipes and techniques”. It shows.
Our sojourn to Celele started on an odd note. The reservation, which was made for us, was at 9:30, which seemed unusually late. We decided to go at 9:00 and see if we could get in early. We were met at the locked door and politely told that the staff was on break and that 9:30 was a general seating time. Luckily, there was a nice little bar across the street, so it was a minimal imposition.
We returned at 9:30 and were ushered to our table. At first, I was disappointed since we were seated near the small open kitchen, not my general preference. That disappointment quickly dissipated when I realized that we had front row seats to a gastronomic ballet.
There were about 20-25 tables and 75-100 patrons. Seating them all at once meant orders came in a flood. We were in prime position to watch as these complex dishes were cooked and assembled, with the expediting chef only a few feet away. It was clear why a break in the evening was essential.
Cartagena must be the specialty cocktail capital of the world, with each restaurant listing an array of unique libations. Celele was no exception, but it took it a step further. Julie ordered a Guayarita, which was composed of Olmeca White Tequila, mezcal Ozo de Tigre, sour guava chutney, mandarin lemon and a basket pepper. It came in a small martini glass filled with 1/3 of the drink, the remainder resting in a small cruet sitting in a bowl of ice to keep it cool until needed. It was advertised as smoky and refreshing and it was.
I had a Vereda Tropical. It was concocted with Columbian Le Hechicera rum, Enate Rose wine, coastal plum leaf syrup and lactofermented plums. The plums sat on a bridge straddling the rim of the glass. I was instructed to take a bite of plum before ingesting the drink. The plums were very salty, but when combined with the fruity cocktail the result was incredibly stimulating – a surprisingly fresh and soothing treat.
For an appetizer Julie ordered a Caribbean Flower salad, a layered extravaganza. The bottom of the bowl was lined with cashew paste, smooth, but with some nut fragments intact. Atop the cashew sat fresh local greens. The greens were topped with edible flowers in an array of colors. A light dressing was added by the server. It was almost a shame to dig in, but it was so tasty it was worth spoiling the effect.
I had Smoked Seasonal Fish with Arab Spices. (sorry, no picture. I started eating too quickly). Nut hummus adorned the side of the bowl, with fermented greens and bits of fish. The waiter poured a light fish broth into the bottom of the bowl all and I mixed it all together. The result was both unexpected and exquisite.
For my main entrée I was feeling adventurous and ordered the Braised Rabbit. The waiter just shook his head and redirected me to Lamb marmaon with Arabian spices. I would not have chosen this without the waiter’s suggestion since my appetizer included Arab spices, and I had no idea what marmaon was. Turns out it is similar to couscous.
The waiter was, of course, correct. The dish was adorned with edible flowers.. Underneath, the lamb was melded with smoked eggplant, gooseberries, and a very light sour cream all within a crispy filo dough. The lamb was incredibly tender. The smoked eggplant and gooseberries gave it a pleasant tang which was perfectly moderated by the sour cream and filo. My taste buds could do nothing, but scream, yes!!!
Julie had the Confit Local Hen, which was adorned with sour guava BBQ, roasted bananas with coconut oil, long green beans, fired banana peels and smoked hen broth. It came in a bowl that highlighted the green beans. The guava BBQ was added by the waiter through a dropper, who then encircled the dish with the hen broth. Again, disturbing the presentation seemed disrespectful, but that hesitancy was well worth overcoming. The complex flavors blended perfectly.
Having had appetizers we would normally skip desert, but that was not an option. We split a “Creamy Chocolate from La Sierra Nevada de Santa Maria”. The dish was white chocolate ganache, tropical dry forest crumble borojo gel and sorbet. It was an elegant combination of chocolatey sweetness and fruity tang. To say it was delectable is an understatement.
I was shocked when I saw that we had been at the restaurant for over 2 hours. Usually, I get antsy after an hour or so, but not that night. As we stood up to leave – one of the last – I caught the eye of the chef. I gave him a big smile, and, like an idiot, two thumbs up. In response he flashed an even bigger smile, giving the impression that for all the awards and rankings the restaurant has garnered, it is still the experience of the individual diner that mattered. You can’t ask for anything more than that.