Perhaps I’ve done less appropriate things in a crowded, fine dining establishment than pour wine into my mouth from a pitcher. But doing so, at the urging of El Porrón’s proprietor, Mr. G., was one I knew I wouldn’t regret!
This authentic and modern tapas spot is located on an East 60s block dominated by towering, nondescript buildings. The structured, slate-and-chocolate-brown decor is visible from the street and causes the kind of double-take you make when mentally bookmarking a restaurant for a future visit. My friend and colleague Terri and I made that return visit on a stifling, clammy Monday night in late June.
During a moment’s wait at the bar for Terri, the amenable bartender poured me taste after taste of red wine until she could tell we’d found one I loved. Rarely interested in flimsy reds even on the hottest evenings, I sipped a Graciano, Senorio de Sarria Viñedo No. 7 (everything on the list is Spanish). The licorice-scented wine is intense, delicious, and lingering, and seemed a fitting prelude to our experience here.
Soon after meeting my wine, we met the man known primarily as Mr. G., our host for the evening and the one who dreamt up the place in collaboration with his family. Gonzalo Bermeo is ebullient, and he seems to want his guests to take him not as seriously as they take his food. He waggishly produced a tray just to carry my wine glass a few feet to our table, where we would sit and delight in a stream of tapas and wine for the next two and half hours.
Still feeling a bit balmy, we asked to share the Gazpacho Andaluz. The chilled and strained vegetable soup pops with flavor and has a silken texture that makes you swear it must contain heavy cream (it doesn’t) and is served with long, crackery breadsticks. Before we could finish spooning the cool liquid from our bowls, the unduly genial waitstaff presented us an array of hot seafood tapas, which El Porrón prepares with a flair well beyond any of NYC’s other upscale tascas.
Terri was savoring the Ponte de Barca Rias Baixas Albarino, which intimates sweet and tropical fruits and is perfect with fish. We found succulence in the Vieras con tocino en salsa de esparragos, scallops pan-seared with garlic and bread crumb crispiness, sprinkled with bacon, and resting in a shallow pool of white, buttery asparagus sauce. The name Gamas al ajillo, shrimp in garlic, doesn’t begin to describe the light complexity of another dish. Though the shrimp remained sizzling in Albarino sauce for a minute after landing on our table, the dish’s texture was flawless and not even slightly overcooked.
A special swordfish that day, served over sauteed crispy vegetables, proved that the fish with the driest reputation need not be that way. The square of meat seemed sealed with a citrusy, outer glaze that could barely contain its juiciness; one of my favorite types of fish, I’ve never seen it served so moist.
At this point, we welcomed a lull in the tapas cascade, and Mr. G. reappeared. The sated and impressed looks on our faces brightened his, and we had the chance to ask him some of the many, curious questions we had about El Porrón. He told us how the restaurant is the result of him and his brother, Mario, deconstructing their impressions from intense tours of their native northern Spain (though they spent most of their childhood in Ecuador).
They returned to conceptualize and open the family-run restaurant in Manhattan with Mr. G.’s son, Diego. Terri has a keen design eye and complimented the perfectly balanced decor of smooth, wide surface space, brick and wood details, and cinematographic photos of the family’s men. This, of course, is also when I inquired about the wine vessels called porrones that lined a wall, and Mr. G. happily asked us if we would like to try one. Well, I wasn’t aware of what that entailed, but I like wine and fancy, crystal-like containers, so I agreed.
Mr. G. hustled away to return with a full porrón, napkins, and a new level of panache. He tilted back his head and being to pour wine from the pointed spout into his mouth, holding it greater and greater distances away for long enough to astound. When he stopped, claps and light cheers went up around the room. Terri and I exchanged if-you-do-it-so-will-I looks, and with tentative technique, we each gave the apparatus a go. (While we were glad we tried, we received more bemused stares and far less ovation from the audience than Mr. G.!)
Any residual awkwardness was quickly absorbed with a Tortilla española, an item made in just about every Spanish household. At El Porrón, the fluffy but rich omelette contains eggs and onions and has a pleasant, bready texture.
This was quickly followed by what Terri considered the apogee of the meal: Albondigas de ternera, little veal meatballs served in a clay ramekin of leek, carrot, celery, and tomato stew. The finely textured, impossibly tender meat has a flavor that’s delicately gamey. The savory sauce they’re simmered in caught my taste’s attention, and in maybe not an entirely kosher dish combination, I couldn’t help but spoon a bit of it over our last piece of Tortilla española.
Small tapas in a airy, spacious restaurant make a perfect meal on a sweltering night. Situated in something of a culinary dead spot on First Avenue at East 62nd Street, El Porrón is the city’s best for such a meal. Though Terri and I stuck with our wine, in receptacles both familiar and new to us, other patrons praised the sangria as a wonderful, cooling accompaniment. I recommend making a reservation, as El Porrón was booked even on a Monday night. The space would make an elegant date spot, as well as being comfortable for small groups or even a solo supper at the bar.
As for our girls’ night dinner, the prettiest dish of all came last: the mocha flan is decorated with glacé and paper-thin fruit slices. Not only an aesthetic star, the flan’s pale inside color belies its potent, rich coffee and chocolate flavor. The java’s clearly present in this dessert and is probably what helped us summon the pep to exit to the muggy street, after a grateful goodbye to Mr. G., who by this point felt like a friend.
El Porrón
1123 1st Ave. (between 61st & 62nd Streets)
212-207-8349
www.elporronnyc.com
