Margarit, Greek Inspired, Poble Sec

Margarit, Greek Inspired, Poble Sec

I stand before you wordless, or as close to that state as I am likely to get. Certain kitchens, such as Lebanese, Turkish, or Greek, are best avoided outside their country of origin. The results are often watered down and meagre. I do not want a tablespoon of wilted tabouleh for example so I bide my time until I can have the real thing. However, my ambivalence at trying a Greek-inspired kitchen in Barcelona loosened as trusted sources tried and loved Margarit.

I went with friends on a Saturday night for a post-birthday celebration. The menu at Margarit sets my eyebrow at an intrigued arch. The knee-jerk Taverna Greek dishes are notably absent, things like tzatziki, horiatiki and calamari. Souvlaki is here but made from sweetbreads. As is taramosalata.

Taramosalata is one of the beloved dishes of my childhood. I happily consumed vast quantities of the pink stuff bought from bucket-sized tubs at the Greek supermarket delicatessen. At Margarit the taramas (11.5€) it is ivory white and creamy, with glistening pickled mussels in the centre. It is so extraordinary we are tempted to order a second one. And though we resist we do order a second basket of the house sourdough (6.5€).

Let me tell you about this bread basket. And how a carb-conscious table who doesn’t normally “eat bread” tears through the bouncy aerated dough, slathered in olive oil and sprinkled generously with oregano. The oil makes its way down my forearm, collects at my elbow and stains my trousers. I don’t notice until later because the experience of wolfing down this bread, glancing hungrily around for some sauce or puddle to drag it through entirely subsumes me.

There are temptations plenty and writing this now, surely opportunities missed. We try the grilled bisbe with apple compote (13€).  The sweetbread souvlaki (14€) comes on an ethereally light pita bread with a tremendously delicious glob of tzatziki beneath it – if only Margarit would serve tzatziki as a stand-alone appetizer!

We have the Palestinian lamb with yoghurt and herbs (19€), tender and falling off the bone. As my paternal grandmother would have prepared it. Off the menu, we order swordfish and trahanas (19€). Trahana is a fermented grain yoghurt mixture, it’s a comfort food my mother often makes herself for lunch. At Margarit it is served in a loose tomato passata and our table roots around for more of the sourdough to salvage the very last bit.

Given the hour, we order one Portokalopita (7.50€) orange cake to share between the 3 of us. It comes chilled from the fridge, laden with sweet syrup and a scoop of gelato on top.  At room temperature, it may have tipped into overly sweet but just chilled it is simply beautiful.

As the evening progresses the din of the restaurant intensifies. The smells from the open kitchen settle into our clothing. Our servers are a local man and a young Armenian woman. Both are attentive and bring our bill with a smile and three tiny glasses of sweet local wine.

I spend two weeks in Athens every summer and there is a renaissance of all sorts but particularly of restaurants that have been going from strength to strength in the last three years. This Barcelona Greek-inspired outpost is certainly holding its own against some of the best in Athens. I read later in Cristina Jolonch‘s article in La Vanugardia that Margarit is a collaboration between Greek chef Stefanos Balis and Valencian chef Jordi Fenoll. Though with my nostalgia-tinted glasses on I don’t notice.

Margarit
C/ De Margarit 58
Poble Sec 08004
Instagram.com/margarit.bcn