'Gastro freaks' gorge through Spain's top restaurants

NEW YORK -- Since returning from Spain, where I spent two weeks with a couple of buddies, people constantly ask: "What did you do?"

We didn't visit any museums or churches. We didn't stroll around any parks or fountains. We didn't write one postcard or buy one souvenir.

We ate.

We mastered the three-hour lunch, followed by the five-hour dinner. We toppled the world's greatest tasting menus and astounded waiters as we devoured a dizzying number of dishes. We drove a couple thousand miles, dashing from city to city, trying to get there in time for our reservations. We tacked on about 25 pounds between the three of us.

We had no budgetary constraints, blowing more than $17,000 primarily on food (mostly good; occasionally awful) and wine, cava, Campari and that American stalwart, Jack Daniels.

We tapped our savings and wielded our credit cards without remorse. We're gastro freaks. And we were completely out of control.

Our gluttonous tour was mapped around a trio of famous Michelin-starred restaurants named Arzak, Mugaritz and Can Fabes. When not bagging stars, we tackled tapas at a hodgepodge of other recommended restaurants. We always had a destination, but we didn't always make it. Complications caused us to stumble occasionally.

The trip began with the three of us rendezvousing in Madrid. Including myself, Team Spain consisted of Robert Berry and Ricky King, two chefs in Washington, D.C. with scary appetites and a deep understanding of food.

Madrid was merely a culinary sideshow of Padron peppers and fried cod. The real action lay ahead in San Sebastian, which is nestled on the Atlantic Ocean and home to Juan Mari Arzak, who's considered the father of modern Spanish cooking.

Arzak's daughter, Elena, who will one day run the restaurant, greeted us warmly. She led us into the capacious kitchen, where we observed 30 cooks silently preparing food with precision and intensity.

One of the chefs, Igor Zalakain, guided us through the twisting hallways and into the wine cellar, which houses a staggering 100,000 bottles and more than 2,300 labels. He then took us to Arzak's test laboratory, where 1,500 dried condiments — tapioca from Thailand, chili morita from Mexico — sit on the shelves. Here Igor experiments with recipes until they're ready for the menu. Sometimes the recipes can take a day to perfect. Sometimes a year. Sometimes, said Igor, "never."

This brief glimpse behind the scenes gave us a greater appreciation of what we were about to eat: Food rooted in the Basque tradition but with a modern flair.