Essence

I don’t usually write reviews of restaurants that have just opened, but in the case of well-established Barcelona pastry school and restaurant Espaisucre, its brand new Essence dining experience was more than fair game. The Espaisucre name has gained plenty of fame and recognition over the last 17 years, primarily for founding the world’s first dessert-only restaurant, and later for its long list of successful pastry chef alumni.

The entire culinary journey at Essence revolves around a tent pole of sweets, propped up by classic pastry techniques and draped with unexpected—and often strange—ingredients. Espaisucre is a school first and foremost, so Essence’s dining room and kitchen are partially run by students, though that is not to say that these highly complex desserts are elementary by any means. Dinner at Essence takes guests on an educational journey through the meal, explaining unorthodox products and providing an inside look at the creative process behind the conceptualization and execution of a dessert fit for fine dining tables.

We arrived knowing next to nothing about the experience and were quickly ushered into the Espaisucre pastry school kitchen. Standing around an industrial kitchen work station under fluorescent lighting, we eyed the picnic baskets, labelled one to five, that sat before us.

The menu of the evening was simply described on the invitation as "Three Savory Tapas, Five Desserts and Three Sweet Tapas." Award-winning pastry chef, professor and Espaisucre co-founder Jordi Butrón promptly explained that these five baskets contained the raw materials that the chefs and students would be using to craft our five main courses (if you could call a rosemary, olive oil and pine nut cake a main course). We were invited to rummage through the baskets with our fellow dinner guests, touching, smelling and tasting the likes of lemon verbena, mascarpone, haba tonka beans, Japanese sansho peppercorns, jicama and molasses.

I won’t spoil the playful surprise associated with the first and last courses—the tapas—but I will say that they were far less substantial than I had imagined. Just a few (literally) savory bites, then we were jumping head first into a meal consisting entirely of sweets. We were served in the pastry school’s library at a long table allowing everyone to view the projection screen at the front of the room that displayed details of the creative culinary process applied at Espaisucre. Each dish is composed of a handful of base ingredients, the backstories of which can be explored on the tablets propped up in front of each diner.

The meal began with a light first step. An alcohol-free shot of hibiscus and ginger was followed by a minimalist white plate smear with kefir, topped with candied celery ribbons, pomegranate vinegar gelée and a slightly spicy ice cream containing...well, I’m not entirely sure what it contained. The ingredient-focused description of the dishes left me wondering, “Where exactly were those Fisherman’s Friend lozenges (an actual ingredient in one dish) hiding?”

Next came an odd but flavorsome and refreshing citrus dessert soup with green apple, yogurt, sansho pepper and honey, with little floating "noodle" of extruded custard of some kind dancing in the bottom of the bowl with match stick slices of crunchy jicama.

The third course—a dessert of a tamarind tube and pork rinds (a much enjoyed bit of protein, though it was just a little crumb)—was built over a fork-tender, perfectly rectangular bed of pears that seemed to have been cooked sous vide based on their compact texture and perfect doneness. Delicately laid atop this geometric preparation were incredibly thin sticks of haba tonka-infused meringue that melted instantly in my mouth.

It was at this point that I realized that I was already quite full and reaching my sugar threshold (dining exclusively on dessert isn’t exactly my preferred culinary experience, being a lover of all things savory). I was truly enjoying the experience and the dishes, but kind of wished I had laid down a salty foundation of pizza—though I only recommend one slice, as these desserts are deceptively filling. It’s a fine line between tucking into a taco or two beforehand and eating too much and being unable to enjoy these very memorable dishes. However, this is delicate feedback to give, as one would feel a bit sheepish confessing to the chef that “everything was delicious, but I just wish your dessert restaurant had a bit less dessert and more sausage”.

The fourth dish was my favorite: bits of forest green cake that got its color from an intensely spicy and bitter olive oil from Jaén, served with pine nut ice cream and lemon. The goal was to capture the Essence of the Mediterranean and they achieved it splendidly.

Of course, chocolate was the final hurrah, and this dish was packed to the brim with earthy flavors, from coffee and English breakfast tea to molasses and licorice. There was a mousse, sliced plums and puff pastry ‘branch’ of some kind...I wiped the plate clean.

All in all, the service, presentation and conceptualization of this experience were excellent, and I would recommend it to anyone searching for an intriguing and educational dining experience, or merely looking for a new way to experiment with satisfying their sweet tooth—just be aware that a two-hour dinner of virtually only sweets is what’s in store.