Death and Dining at Botín

It’s almost midnight and I’m sitting in a 300-year-old restaurant eating scrambled eggs and reading about death. 

When I first arrived at Botín, I asked the maître d' if there was a table for one available. He confirmed and said “a bajo” and gestured towards the very narrow downward staircase nestled between a blur of kitchen activity and a large leg of jamón where a waiter was busily whittling away. Although very popular among tourists, Botín has an authentic and rural feel.

Famous for its suckling pig and hosting literary great, Ernest Hemingway, Botín is also former stomping grounds for Francisco de Goya who worked there as waiter before diving into his career in the arts. As I carefully made my way down the narrow staircase, I was enveloped in the warm atmosphere of brick and painted walls, welcoming archways and waiters in white suits hurriedly attending to guests with sincere and polite candor.  

I opted for a lighted meal, given the late hour, and ordered scrambled eggs and alcachofa (artichoke) with jamón. If I had to select a flavor to represent Spain, alcachofa and jamón would be top of the list. Alcachofa has a deep and uniquely earthy flavor. Bold and sexy, it can overwhelm at times with its intensity, but in a way that beckons you to come back for more after what feels like going to the surface for air. The sweet and sprightly jamón cuts through the alcachofa and brings the dish to life, creating a sort of gastronomic levity for your tastebuds. The two flavors dance together well among the attractive and contrasting colors. To wash down this culinary amusement, I opted for the house white, a reliable Rueda that rounded off the meal with a crisp citrus finish.  

As I consumed my way towards midnight, I was reading Hemingway’s “Death in the Afternoon” in which he references Botín as a place where he would prefer to be dining on suckling pig. In that moment, cradled by the warmth and hospitality, I couldn’t have agreed more.