Catalan, Otra Vez

On a chilly night, Kimster and I returned to the excellent and cozy Contigo. We lucked into a table despite our lack of reservation; don't try this on a weekend, kids. Before long we had a plate of tender wheat and white bread slices and a saucer of wondrously grassy Arbequina olive oil. A dish of roasted cauliflower dotted with lemony cilantro and two enormous olives disappeared very quickly. And the salad of winter squash, chanterelles, frisee and pomegranate seeds with lacy drifts of ombra cheese nearly made me swoon. Yet there was more: coca flatbread! Crackly-crusted and topped with arugula, Manchego, olives, crispy potato and rosemary...and a farm egg! You gotta have the egg because of the ritual: break the yolk, smear creamily over each piece and roll your eyes back in your head. Maybe I exaggerate; most likely I don't. Someday: Barcelona; for now: Contigo.