Cecelia

I’ll first preface this by saying if you’ve never watched an episode of chefs table on Netflix, please do so ASAP. Just start with the very first one. This is about Cecelia and how I had a ‘chefs table’ moment.

I talk a lot about losing weight and being a chunky chunk but this is all because I have an uncontrollable, passionate, slightly obsessive love for food. And I’m not just talking about dirty kebabs and McDonald’s (even though yes absolutely), i’m talking about real food. Meals where you go and eat and your mind is silent because all you can think about is how amazing the food is.

When I was in Spain we went to a place called Nerja which is a super scenic old fishing down turned tourist spot thanks to the caves. Just up the hills from there is a little village called Frigiliana and even further up from that, is a little restaurant called La Venta de Frigiliana.

Allow me to set the scene: you are very high up in the hills in spain, it’s 32 degrees, and the restaurant doesn’t really look like much- a sort of pub like vibe but more Spanish with olive trees surrounding and quite cute table cloths. Outside the benches are pretty standard, with little parasols.

The lady who owns the restaurant, as I learned later, is called Cecelia and she speaks pretty much no English apart from a couple words. Luckily my dads Spanish is okay and if she talks slow enough I can pick up words I know. There’s no menus or specials boards or anything like that it’s just Cecelia telling you what she’s made that day. Not 100% what she’s on about but we order some bits and hope for the best.

A religious experience would be putting it lightly to what this woman created. Firstly, we have olives that are grown from her own olive tree in her garden. I’m sorry? Have I just entered the eternal garden of Eden? They taste like no olive has ever tasted before, I could hear the olives laughing at my pathetic jarred ones in brine I have back at home.

Oh sweet Mary, then comes the meats, cheese and bread. Handmade chorizo, warmed. Then Cecelia brings out a very basic basket, oh it’s just got warm homemade bread inside. Excellent. So whilst I pick my jaw off the floor at the absolute glorious of it all, I’m basically handing my soul off to Jesus because surely it doesn’t get any better than this.

So when my homemade spinach & ricotta ravioli came out, I was having a cardiac arrest. Now I’ve had ravioli at Italian restaurants before and good grief what’s not to love?! The cheese, the pasta the sauce- incredible. Cecelia’s ravioli was the most buttery, light, but some how richest pasta I have ever tasted. It was like the scene in Ratatouille where the critic is transported to his childhood. Expect it was a split second of knowing 2 very important things. 1. I have never in my life been this emotional over pasta and 2. The sadness of knowing it was going to end.

Now I can harp on about how the food made me want to weep at the good Christ’s feet but what really made this restaurant special was Cecelia. She was born in Uruguay and she moved to Spain some years ago with her husband and started this restaurant, which is only open 10-6 might I add. She cooks everything her self, she is her only staff and she was the most incredible woman. There’s not many times when my heart has been so full of inspiration and kindness as it was at Cecelia’s.

And that’s why I’m a chunk.
Good night.