We begin #LANEWS as we ended the last one: talking about the private room. Sometimes a simple gesture—leaving a door ajar—is enough to change an entire service. On the other side, the fire sounds the same, but when the noise subsides, the small details become clearer. Suddenly, everything becomes sharper: the laughter, the silence, the rhythm of a table.
We seek that privacy within a place that is otherwise very much in the public eye. We find the contradiction delightful. And it's working. Many people come from out of town, yes; we'd say its use is almost evenly split between residents and tourists. Those who live here use it to eat and meet without interference. Those who arrive in Madrid quickly understand: "There are eight of us, where do we eat?" And they end up there, in that little refuge.
This month, we also want to talk about a new dish: lamb and pine nuts. It reminds us of the forest at this time of year, but without nostalgia, because of the smoke and the flavors. We work with pine nuts and pine cones; we smoke it with pine cones so that the aroma is sweet, almost fruity, and doesn't mask the animal character. We braise the lamb necks and roll them up. We fry them and smoke them again. We were looking for a clear contrast: crispy on the outside; that tender, melt-in-your-mouth texture that emerges when heat and time do their work.
The key comes at the end, when everything seems ready. We coat the fried lamb with the lamb's own sauce, cold-blended with pine nuts, olive oil, and a touch of vinegar. This is where the dish's success hinges: if you overheat it, the texture breaks down; if you underheat it, it doesn't hold together. The idea is reminiscent of ajoblanco, but the depth is different: lamb broth instead of water, just the right amount of fat, nothing heavy.
At the base, we place a toasted pine nut praline. On top, a pesto of nasturtium, parsley, and pine nuts, which brings a touch of green and a subtle bitterness. The nut appears in layers—cream, praline, pesto—as if the dish were repeating the same idea with different textures.
Looking for the source of our inspiration, we rediscovered an old obsession: that method—common in some Chinese cuisines—of frying and then glazing thoroughly, letting the fried food soak up the oil until it becomes almost unctuous and glossy. We've had that in Usera. Madrid has that gift; it offers hidden gems without you having to go far, and it lends you techniques to bring them to life in a way that we understand.
Outside the kitchen, Chispa's restless spirit lives on. Satellite projects are taking shape, emerging around it, offering different formats to tell the same story from a different angle. We can't be precise yet; we're patiently developing it, the way you do things that truly matter.
And yes, we can say that we'll soon be opening our doors again. In February, chef Robbie Jameson from Humo (London) will be visiting us to cook with us. We see ourselves reflected in his way of experiencing fire as an infinite tool. Our time together promises to spark enriching questions. We'll share techniques that will leave us with that fertile doubt that reorients us.
P.S.: We will be closed for Christmas from Sunday, December 21st to the 25th; we will be open during our usual hours for the rest of the holidays. Reservations can be made through the usual channels.
Happy holidays to all.
A heartfelt hug,
The Chispa team