Next to the rice station sits the grill, a long steel box of charcoal and oak that is lit before anyone else arrives and burns until the last plate goes out. Almost everything that comes off it is simple: a chorizo, a handful of green peppers, spring onions blackened to the core. Simple food has nowhere to hide, so the fire has to be right.
Three zones
The cooks rake the coals into three zones. The hottest sits under the front bars, where peppers blister in a minute and a steak takes its crust. The middle holds a steadier heat for sausages and lamb, which need time to render. At the back there is almost no coal at all, only warm steel, where finished pieces rest while the rest of the order catches up.
- Front: blistering and searing, a minute or two a side.
- Middle: rendering and slow color, turned often.
- Back: resting, never cooking.
Working this way means a table’s plates reach the pass together, each cooked at its own pace.
Charring on purpose
In spring we grill calçots, the long Catalan onions, until the outer layers turn black. Guests peel them by hand and dip the sweet centers in romesco. It looks like a mistake the first time you see it. It is the whole point: the burnt skin steams what is inside.
Burnt is a flavor when you choose it, and a mistake when you do not.
The same thinking runs through the rest of the grill. We char what benefits from it, keep the rest just colored, and taste as we go. The fire is loud and the work is fast, but the rules are few and they do not change.