I watched, fascinated, as waiter Manuel expertly separated the flesh from the bones of my salt-baked sea bass. Behind him, diners spilt out of the restaurant onto the cobbled streets of Ciutadella’s port, drinks in hand, chatting in Spanish. The scent of paella hung in the warm early-autumn air.
Spain has always been my favourite destination for good food. I was last here on my birthday, intent on consuming my body weight in Basque cheesecake. But instead of heading to San Sebastian (where the dessert has found fame), I found myself in Ciutadella… and liked it enough to return just months later for another friend’s birthday.
