A Foodie’s Tour in “The Best City to Eat in Europe”

In Parts Unknown, Anthony Bourdain—rockstar of the culinary world—declared San Sebastian, Spain “the best city to eat in Europe.”

Indeed, many foodies visit San Sebastian to experience Bourdain’s favorite Michelin-starred restaurant, Arzak—but their €450 ($486) seven-course tasting menu didn’t appeal to my husband and me.

Instead, we chose to indulge our palates like locals, with the traditional pintxos (Basque for tapas) crawl. This tradition involves “eating small amounts, many times”— an approach better for our digestion and our wallet.

We booked A Taste of Spain’s private San Sebastian Basque Foodies Tour, a foodie’s dream vacation involving five days of culinary touring and four nights in a four-star hotel, for €2,600 ($2,800) per person.

A Taste of Spain also offers more affordable options—or you can read on and plan your own itinerary based on our excellent experience.

Five Pintxos Bars—and a Nap

After a spectacular breakfast buffet at the Hotel Londres, we met our suave Basque tour guide, Inaki, in the hotel lobby. He guided us through San Sebastián on a walking tour.

From him, we learned that Spain’s Queen Maria Christina was the first “ambassador” of San Sebastián. From the late 1800s until 1929, she spent her summers at the Mirador Palace overlooking La Concha Bay.

Her presence in the Mirador Palace attracted Europe’s aristocracy, helping to convert the town into a summer retreat—with the local architecture styled after that of Paris as a result.

Then it was on to our first pintxos crawl. Paco Bueno, founded in 1950 by a boxer, was our first stop. Its specialty is fried gambas (shrimp). Inaki brought us a plate of shrimp, coated in a crunchy tempura style batter and cooked to perfection. He paired this with our first glass of txakoli, the popular fizzy white wine produced in the region.

Our seafood adventures didn’t end there. We headed to Bora Berri Bar, where a chalkboard listed the day’s fresh pintxos. I chose the pescado del dia (fish of the day). The lightly seared tuna sat in a silky white sauce, adorned with pickled squash and sprinkled with pistachios—a truly delectable bite.

A glass of Galician Albarino white wine paired perfectly. (The wine cost only €3; in Spain, wine often costs less than water.)

Stop No. 3 was Ganbara, Bourdain’s favorite pintxos bar. Salty anchovies do not appeal to me—but given their ubiquity in Basque country, and Bourdain’s endorsement, I gave in. Much to my surprise, we devoured an entire plate of anchovies in a mild vinaigrette.

We also ordered a plate of small, green padron peppers. They were sauteed in herbaceous virgin olive oil (the Spanish love their virgin olive oil) until blistered, then lightly salted. By the end of the trip, I would become addicted to those fresh, crispy, blistered peppers.

The fourth stop was Txuleta Bar, so we could try the local beef. We ordered two beef cube pintxos. Three cubes of meat arrived on each dish, laced on a stick and placed on french fries. The beef, seared on the outside, medium rare inside, was tender and flavorful. We also ordered a robust red Rioja.

Our final stop was La Vina, famous for its crustless burnt Basque cheesecake. La Vina recommends pouring some Malaga sherry over the cheesecake, and we were game. Part of the sherry doused the cheesecake; the rest we sipped. La Vina’s cheesecake is unusually creamy inside; the contrasting flavor of sherry really punches it up.

This rich dessert put us over the top. It was time for a well-deserved nap.

It was a warm, brilliant day. After we slept (and digested), we explored the spectacular La Concha beach, regularly—and ubiquitously—rated the best beach in Europe. The sun’s rays shimmered off the waves as I strolled barefoot on the soft golden sand. Mount Urgull rose up on one side of me, Mount Igueldo on the other. Behind me, the boardwalk was adorned with Art Deco railings.

An Exclusive Basque Cooking Club

Gastronomic sociedades, or cooking clubs, are an integral part of Basque culture. Traditionally, these were men’s clubs wherein members cooked, socialized, and dined together. (Thankfully for me, these days women also join in.)

Membership is handed down for generations. Most members meet weekly to cook and share a meal with family, friends (they can invite up to 10 guests), and fellow members. Today, some 150 clubs exist in San Sebastián alone.

Our cooking class, led by Chef Ben, would take place at one such club. We met up with Chef Ben at the Mercado de la Bretxa. He led us through the market, picking fresh ingredients for our lunch and pointing out delicacies such as kokotxas (hake cheeks), often served in gourmet restaurants. He introduced us to his preferred providers, many of whom sell to the local Michelin-starred chefs.

At Ben’s favorite jamon (ham) stall, he explained what differentiates jamon iberico (from black Iberian pigs with black hoofs) from jamon serrano (from common white pigs). The Iberian pigs roam free in woodland meadows, dining on acorns. No wonder their meat—with its higher unsaturated fat content—is intense and succulent.

Ben selected a large merluza (hake) for our meal, some fresh clams, then some jamon and chorizo (sausage). Our final stop was at Ogi Berry Bakery, where we picked up a crusty baguette.

Our cooking class was held at Gastronomica, the club Ben belongs to. The rustic stone building, perched atop a hill, is outfitted with several dining areas, each with heavy family-style wooden tables. The expansive kitchen boasts restaurant-quality stoves and everything needed to cook a meal for a large group—except ingredients, which members provide themselves.

Since we had chosen a private class, it was just us, Ben, and his wife. We finished cooking and eating lunch before members arrived, so had the kitchen and dining room all to ourselves.

When we entered the kitchen we spotted a platter of tasty olives, fried padron peppers (I told you I’d become addicted!), and txistorra frita (sauteed and spicy sausage slices). We nibbled away as Ben explained what we’d be cooking.

Our first task was to make pachineta donostriarra, a cream-filled puff pastry. Ben demonstrated. This part was easy, since we used puff pastry, added a dollop of filling, then sealed it before adding sprinkled nuts to the top and popping them into the oven.

While we waited for our first attempt at Basque pastries to bake, we moved into the dining room. There Ben explained the history of the famous Gilda pintxo, a kebab of olives, anchovy, and pickled peppers. The Gilda pintxo was created by Bar Vallés and named for Rita Hayworth, after her spicy performance in the movie Gilda.

We threaded a long wooden stick through the ingredients and, as tradition dictates, popped the entire Gilda into our mouths, producing an explosion of flavor. Ben explained that the Gilda stimulates the palate, preparing the stomach for the main course.

After snacking, we returned to the kitchen to prepare our main course: merluza en salsa verde (hake in green sauce). Ben kicked off the recipe, then directed me through each step until I’d finished preparing the complex dish.

It was gratifying to sit down in the dining room and consume the delicate fish we’d prepared. The hake was moist, and the salsa verde—made from olive oil, garlic, parsley and, of course, Txakoli wine—was simple, yet silky. Our crusty baguette was perfect for soaking up the divine sauce. Ben opened a bottle of a Galician white wine, a Gaba de Xil, O Barreiro—a white Albarino—to pair. It was a tasty, satisfying meal.

A Visit to Oceanview Vineyards

On day three, we toured and tasted at the family-run Ameztoi Txacoli vineyard and winery, nestled in lush green hills in Gaintza, a thirty-minute drive west from San Sebastián

During the tour, I was surprised to see vines growing on steep hillsides, the Cantabrian Sea in full view. We learned that the local weather can be cold, windy, and rainy, with salty sea air—harsh conditions for growing wine grapes. So most grapes are grown using a trellis system on southeast-facing slopes in order to better protect the vines.

The very dry white txakolinas range from pale yellow to green in color. They are high in acidity, and low in alcoholic content (9.5-11 ABV). They pair perfectly with seafood pintxos and are intended to be drunk young, within a year of bottling.

In the tasting room, our guide dramatically poured our txacolina—from three feet above our glasses.

This, we’d learned, is done to increase the wine’s fizzy, effervescent quality. It’s a party trick I’m sure to adopt—alongside serving plenty of pintxos. Topa!