Nieves Barragán Mohacho
Executive head chef, Barrafina
“We’re going to crash! We’re going to crash!” exclaimed my father. You should have seen inside the car he drove from home in Bilbao down to Valencia. It was my first big holiday and the car was loaded, loaded, loaded. Because Mamá would squash in the table, chairs, plates, cutlery, absolutely everything, so in Valencia she could feel like we were in our home, when we weren’t.
We didn’t go out to restaurants in Valencia because Mamá was a very good cook and had brought her equipment. I wanted to be a good cook too, and the holiday was time to cook together. We’d make the family’s breakfasts, lunches, brunches and dinners, to eat on the beach or the patio. I remember the muffins with chocolate, baguettes with salami, chorizo and tortilla de patatas, lots of light fish and the big paella Valenciana. I really wanted to impress Mamá so, one day, while she was at the shop or supermarket, I made lunch by myself. But, stepping down from the chair, I tipped hot oil over my chest. It was bad. I still have the scarring. Mamá arrived back and said, “You are seven years old!”
I really like seafood soup. Sometimes, as a child, we’d have mini holidays, driving to San Sebastián where a relative lived. The greatest fish soup I ever had was there. It contained prawns, crab, white mullet, tomato, paprika, brandy, wine... Every sip with the spoon was a hundred million flavours.
As a teenager I was in a group, like the scouts for boys and girls, called Tiempo Libre and went away with them on breaks to Burgos, above Madrid. Sometimes we’d walk for eight hours – hiking, camping, playing games and doing a lot of charcoal grilling of chicken, chorizo and vegetables. I was 14 and starting to have feelings. I was gay and it was very difficult but this other girl liked me as well, so it needed to be secret and we would catch up behind the house we were staying in. It was exciting. At 18, I returned to Burgos with 11 or 12 friends and 100 euros. We rented a cheap place and I was buying and preparing all the food. I had a knife in my hand constantly.
At 19 I had a horrible terrible trip, but fun. I went with three girls in a rented car from Bilbao to the coast and down to Barcelona. We slept two in the car and two on the roof, until the car was stolen. One of my friends had left the key inside, unlocked, and it disappeared with all the other girls’ backpacks. They had been drinking. I was the only one wearing my bag so still had money to go to the market and make baguettes for everyone with jamon, tortilla and tuna in oil. We got a second rental car to drive. But then that car was stolen too. The police couldn’t believe it.
Even though we lived in Santurce, next to the port of Bilbao, my parents had never taken us outside Spain, so when I moved to London, at 21, it was my first time abroad. It had been difficult being gay in Bilbao at the time, and in other ways too it was like a holiday. I fell in love with London and in love in London. I couldn’t speak a word of English at first but I lived in Crystal Palace, near the park, it felt very English, and I soon worked at Simply Nico – learning a different cuisine.
Now I have lived in London for 18 years but have never taken a proper holiday in the UK. I’ve been down to see a friend in Brighton. I thought the people on the beach were much mellower and quieter than the Spanish, who shout, scream, sing and feast on beaches. Sometimes I’ll meet Mitch Tonks (of The Seahorse) for two days in Brixham or Dartmouth to talk about fish. I love travelling by train; I feel like a baby on trains. Two years ago I went to Cornwall to do an exhibition with Rick Stein and then relax a little.
For the first time this weekend I’m going to Paris – it’s my girlfriend’s birthday. She says, “You’re always working, you can never switch off,” and I say, “Well, I’m running three restaurants.” A holiday for me is time to really think about work. I am not able to think and write things down properly when working, but on holiday I can do this – I can think and think about menus, dishes, changes, improvements and do this while sitting having a beer and then another beer. So I have no complaint.
Holidays, when I’ve found the time, have been in the sun abroad. Not long holidays, but I do like a break. The furthest was Thailand, where I was pinching myself at the grilled fish. In Sardinia I rented a boat so we could dive. I love Italy, for the food especially, coming back three or four kilos heavier. In Spain in April I had my first holiday for 18 months. I found Casa Antonio, a small hotel in Cadiz run by a father and three sons who were chef, sommelier and waiter. The welcome – and seafood – they gave me was unbelievable. When I left I was crying.
