Glug

There was a plate of pasta on my first visit that tasted more Catalan than Italian, and a vegetable dish on the second that managed the reverse; somewhere between the two sits Glug. Out in the Nova Esquerra de l'Eixample, away from the busier corners, the kitchen borrows from both coasts without either one losing its accent. The second visit was the better meal. The cooking had settled: surer hands with the produce, plates made for sharing, a natural bottle open before anyone thought to check the clock. Not every note lands, and I'd rather that than caution. This is a generous table, the kind where lunch stretches out and nobody apologises for it. I'll return as the seasons change and see what the market has coaxed out of them.