José Pizarro by John Carey
Civilian London: Bermondsey has become quite the neighbourhood in London over the last few years. The White Cube has arrived and Clive Watson and Adam White did something amazing with The Garrison and Village East. Now you’ve got two restaurants on the same street. What brought you here?
José Pizarro: It reminds me of Spain. People say hello to you and smile when you see them in the morning. I first came here because I was working at Brindisa in Borough Market and wanted somewhere close to work. Zucca hadn’t opened then, but The Garrison and The Woolpack pub were here. I can walk to Piccadilly in less than an hour, and I’m right by the river, but I don’t feel like it is central London. I knew I could make a restaurant work for dinner here, but wasn’t initially sure about lunch. But the customers here are very loyal and there’s a very local mentality.
CL: The British got to grips with paella and package holidays to Spain in the 1970s, but what was their perception of Spanish food when you first got to London?
JP: When I arrived 14 years ago, there was nothing. When I opened Brindisa, I could see some interest and by the time I opened José, they were mad for it. The thing we offered with José was the authenticity and simplicity with clean flavours. When you come in, it feels like you are in Spain. It’s nothing fancy, there’s no attitude. You can go with four or five people, or eat alone and enjoy it.
CL: Is it about a modern twist on Spanish food, or are you just importing something that already exists?
JP: You can find a tapas bar like José anywhere in Spain, but many people say they prefer the food I am doing here in Bermondsey. It’s about ingredients. The suckling lamb has to be from Castilla, but otherwise the best lamb I’ve found is from Kent. The asparagus has to be from England because it’s the best you can get anywhere in the world. My hake is from Cornwall.
Pizarro, London by Paul Winch Furness
CL: And the ham?
JP: Ah, the Jamón Ibérico must be from Spain. I like Joselito, but think Manuel Maldonado’s is the best. Many farmers want really huge animals, but Maldonado’s comes from smaller, seven kilo pigs. And they are really looked after. They eat only acorns for the last four months of their life. It’s a very expensive process – each animal needs one hectare of land.
CL: Nuno Mendes is serving his pork medium rare at Viajante, and so is Ollie Dabbous. Were you the first to do it in London?
JP: Yes, when I was at Eyre Brothers, ten years ago. I worked with fillet, not with the pluma we serve at José or the presa at Pizarro. It’s still on the menu at Eyre Brothers. Everyone thought I was crazy. When people tried it, they changed their mind and now we rarely have any table question the way it’s served. Pluma is from the back of the arm and it’s a delicious cut, but you won’t find it in Spain much. I first had it in Extremadura, where I grew up. It was normal for me and it was always cooked the same way I cook it now: plancha, salt and olive oil and nothing else. We do it the same way at José. We don’t use any oil in the plancha, the oils come from the fat. The pluma is something very special and it’s not available all year. They start killing the animals in January and stop in May.
Iberico pork with olive oil mash
CL: We know that a lot of regulars go to José just to have the pluma. It’s always a tragedy when the kitchen has run out. What other foods have you championed from Extremadura?
JP: Pimenton de la Vera – smoked paprika – and the chorizo. The secret to chorizo is good fat and the paprika. Chorizo changes from one village to the next. It should be 20% fat and the rest is lean meat from shoulder cuts. Then you have the cured loin, the lomo. When you have that, you’re in heaven.
CL: What are your earliest memories of food from Spain?
JP: The flavour of the milk from my father’s cows and my grandmother cooking partridge in white wine and vinegar are both stuck in my head. Then there’s the flavour and scent of fresh, ripe tomatoes. I always say to people: give your children the best quality and let them eat the best food. It stays with you your whole life.
CL: Is there a void between the Michelin stars of San Sebastián and the simple rustic Spanish that you do?
JP: It is a completely different way of cooking, but I have worked in Michelin starred kitchens – I started out at Mesón de Doña Filo in Madrid – and I learnt techniques to get better flavours from traditional, simple dishes. Like the hake – you need to know the timing and the heat to use.
José in Extremadura by Emma Lee
CL: Would a Michelin star be important for you?
JP: No. I just believe in simplicity and quality of ingredients now. For me, it used to be too fussy and too much stress – the pressure of working in those kitchens, to keep the Michelin star. It’s still hard to run the kitchen at Pizarro, but I want to do the things the way I want to do them. If someone told me that I’d get a Michelin star if I changed something a certain way, I’d tell them to f––k off.
CL: Do you think your style represents a more modern way of eating than the avant garde?
JP: People go out to relax, laugh and be noisy sometimes, which is why my restaurants are popular. I used to love El Bulli and I love my friend Elena Arzak’s restaurant and The Fat Duck. When I visited elBulli, I had 29 different plates and each one of them was – ‘wow!’ – something new. I recently spent seven days in South Africa and they are trying very hard to achieve a Michelin star standard there. It was all fancy food, but after a few days, I didn’t want it any more. I wanted real food. People love to go to The Fat Duck once, but not every week. I could eat at Pizarro two or three times a week, same with Zucca next door.
CL: So if we came to Spain with you right now, where would you take us?
JP; We’d go to San Sebastián. We all know that it has more Michelin stars than anywhere, but we’d go to the port and have some octopus and boquerones. Or perhaps to Elkano in the next village, Getaria, and have a whole turbot on the grill, which is just ‘wow!’ I have huge respect for Elena Arzak. Her food is sophisticated but still rustic within that Michelin world.
CL: And let’s get really local here… what about the region where you’re from?
JP: We’d go to El Figón de Esutaquio in Cáceres, which reminds me of my childhood. I used to go there with my grandfather all the time and many people think of it as the best restaurant in Extremadura. Also, Atrio which is in a Relais & Chateaux hotel. The food is exquisite and stunning, but fancy. It’s not where you’d go for something simple. And Hospedería del Real Monasterio is heavenly. It’s in the beautiful town of Guadalupe, within the monastery, and run by the monks. The food is simple, but very well cooked. It’s worth staying overnight. The morcilla, from the local butcher, cooked with paprika, is a must. C