Lomo Bajo
Ordering hanger, rump cap, brisket or skirt steaks may seem like a shot in the dark for those without a bit of carnal knowledge. Yet, virtually anyone who enjoys the simple pleasure of char-grilled beef can tell you that the lean and tender ‘loin’ is a safe bet when perusing the offerings of the local butcher—a cut that runs along the animal’s back, from the hip to just at the start of the ribs. In Spain, this large piece is divided into the upper and the lower loin (lomo alto and lomo bajo), which also happen to be the names of the upstairs and downstairs dining areas of this new Barcelona beef paradise. While Lomo Alto offers arguably the best quality beef in the city, grilled over coals for their patrons in the upstairs dining room, Lomo Bajo focuses on one of my favourite food groups: the sandwich.
In the event that diners desire further education in the edible anatomy of a steer, they need to venture no further than the entrance of Lomo Bajo, where a 1,500kg ox from Leon, split down the middle, hangs on hooks beside the reception desk in a 0-degree dry-ageing chamber. (Note: you might want to leave your squeamish friends at home). Over the course of this behemoth’s 500-day ageing process (the normal primal cuts received by the restaurant are aged a still-impressive 150 days), it loses almost 50 percent of its weight through evaporation, and finally comes to your table at Lomo Alto at a fork-dropping €800/kg.
Luckily, for those of us who don’t have the bankroll for such a delectable extravagance, the 150-day aged beef from Rubia Gallega cattle, bred in the green pastures of north-western Spain, is also served in burger and tartar form in the casual-but-classy downstairs dining room.
While Lomo Alto offers arguably the best quality beef in the city, Lomo Bajo focuses on one of my favourite food groups: the sandwich
We sat down to lunch after a cursory tour of the place. We started with the dining areas (from the owners of El Nacional and equally well-decorated), moved on to the custom-made meat refrigerator (all the meat is meticulously catalogued and stored by the chef, local gastronomy icon Carles Tejedor), and landed in the kitchen with its Josper grill, cranked by hand to raise and lower the meat over the fire, tempering it gently to a succulent medium-rare.
The menu of Lomo Bajo is divided into six parts. To begin, the sharing section features a couple of salads and a homemade croquette of cecina. We ordered the typical tuna confit with tomato salad to add a little lightness to the meal. The quality of the tuna and tomato was excellent, but I quickly forgot about this ‘old faithful’ tapa when the overflowing bun of spicy steak tartare arrived.
The ‘Rock & Rolls’ are buttered and grilled hot dog buns stuffed with the likes of steak tartare (spiked with Tabasco and topped with dollops of egg yolk cream), cecina, sobrassada or grilled pork. The tartare was delicate with a nice amount of spice, and the distinct, almost-buttery flavour of the 150-day aged beef was the star.
The burgers section offers three options: normal (made with ground veal), the ‘Sibarita’ (made with veal and topped with foie gras and apple) and the ‘Supreme’ (made with the 150-day aged Rubia Gallega beef). Of course, I ordered the Supreme and, though the €14 price tag was a bit steep for the size of the burger, once you take into account that you can’t taste a burger quite like this one anywhere else in the city, it’s worth the trip and the tariff. The pretzel bread is a touch of genius, too.
I can’t move on from the burger without paying homage to one of the best moments of the entire meal—when the chips arrived! I love waxing poetic about an outstanding Michelin-star tasting menu as much as the next guy, but give me these fries with every burger I eat for the rest of my life and I’ll die a happier (and fatter) man. Perfectly crisp and standing at attention, these chips put most others in the city to absolute shame. Dipped in the spicy (or regular) ketchup and mayonnaise supplied in squirt bottles on the table, they might have been my favourite bite of the entire meal. We ordered a small sample of the onion rings in molasses as well, which were light and crunchy, with just a thin layer of batter, but the humble chip won the battle of the side dishes.
To finish, we devoured a classic pepito—the ubiquitous steak sandwich of Spain—composed of grilled veal loin with grilled green peppers, cheese and a meat mayonnaise, served on a rustic ‘black bread’ roll made with carob. The pepito was without fault, but was overshadowed by the other dishes on the table in my opinion. At €16 it was the largest of the three sandwiches, but the least interesting. Taking into account the tab for a Supreme burger (€14), chips (€3.50) and a caña (€3), it’s not the cheapest place to get a burger in town, but it is unique.