DOOR HALF-OPEN

We begin #LANEWS as we ended the last: talking about privacy. Sometimes a minimal 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: laughter, silence, the rhythm of a table. We seek that privacy within a place that is usually so exposed. We find the contradiction delightful. And it's working. Many people come from out of town, yes; we'd say the use is almost evenly split between residents and tourists. Those who live here use it to eat and meet without interruption. 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 pineapple so the aroma is sweet, almost fruity, and doesn't mask the animal flavor. 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 tenderness that emerges when heat and time do their work on the inside. 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 (a chilled almond and garlic soup), but the depth is different: lamb broth instead of water, just the right amount of fat, without any heaviness. At the base, we place a toasted pine nut praline. On top, a pesto of nasturtium, parsley, and pine nuts that brings a touch of green and a mild bitterness. The nuts appear in layers—cream, praline, pesto—as if the dish were repeating the same idea with different textures. Searching for the source of this inspiration, we returned to an old obsession: that method—very common in some Chinese cuisines—of frying and then glazing well, letting the frying soak in and become almost unctuous, glossy. We've eaten that in Usera. Madrid has that gift; it offers you hidden gems without you having to go far, and lends you techniques to bring them to life on the stovetop in a way we understand. Outside the kitchen, Chispa's restless spirit remains alive. Satellites are taking shape, emerging around it, other formats to tell the same story from a different angle. We can't be precise yet; we're cooking it patiently, as one cooks things that truly matter. And we can say that we'll soon be opening the door to the outside world again. In February, chef Robbie Jameson, from Humo (London), will visit us to cook with us. We recognize ourselves in their way of experiencing fire as an infinite tool. Our gathering promises to spark enriching questions. We will share techniques that 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 the rest of the holidays. Reservations can be made through our usual channels. Happy holidays to all. Warmest regards, The Chispa Team
#LANEWS SEPTEMBER 25. Year three, expanding universe

Chispa is turning three. We find it hard to believe, even though our bodies know it.
That first service—a nervous night of embers and new smoke—ignited an intimate Big Bang.
#LANEWS, SUMMER '25. DECONTEXTUALIZED SPARK

One night in London, a customer at our table told us that this level of daring in the dishes isn't usually seen here. The compliment lingered in the air. We didn't know how to respond. We were at Carousel, a restaurant that changes its skin every week, where kitchens travel and dishes speak other languages. There, in the heart of the West End, we were invited to create our Chispa: with other dishes, other fires, other people. It was Chispa, but without its geography. Decontextualized. Cooking in London has left its mark. It was like playing a familiar song with foreign instruments. It forced us to listen to it again. To pay attention. To relearn. The city, so fast-paced, so full of everything, pushed us to a different rhythm. From the open kitchen—in the middle of the dining room—we observed the gestures of people who, for the most part, didn't know us. And yet, they listened. They flattered us, yes. But there were also silences. Plates that didn't come back empty. We also ate. A lot. We went to Umo, where kaiseki cuisine embraces the season, balance, and presentation. It was like looking at an invented nature. And we returned—more than once—to Kiln, where fire rules over a raw and precise Thai cuisine. The floating smoke reminded us that fire is our language too. Perhaps this experience has opened a first crack through which, in the future, from this immense city, a new light may enter. Who knows? Back in Madrid, with our bodies still heavy from the long nights, a dish we'd been mulling over for weeks suddenly emerged: Red shrimp and goat. Two twists: first, the crustacean's tail cured in goat's butter; then, a cheese-filled ravioli with a bisque made from its head. There's something in that dish that wasn't there before the trip. We didn't design it there, but there, without a doubt, we found it. Now, on August 2nd, vacation begins. Three weeks to pause. We're finishing a stable year, with set rules. Words that once scared us, and that now feel like home. With that regained composure, we're able to look more inward, with honesty, and from there, project ourselves outward. London left us with the certainty that we will emerge again. Because that's the nature of Chispa: to move, absorb, burn a little, and return. That's how we continue to grow. Professionally, personally... if there is such a difference. Now, the fire will be on hold. But it won't go out. Happy summer. See you back.
JUNE 1ST 5TH NEWS. PLANT FETISH

There are desires that are learned over the years. They are not whims, but obsessions that time refines, like one refines taste or memory. This is how we understand fetishism at Chispa: as that weakness we feel for certain ingredients when they return to the market each season. That object of desire, these days, takes the form of a plant: the zucchini flower. It appears for only a few weeks a year, and when it does, everything around it is activated. We are fascinated by its flavor, yes, but also by its versatility. It can be haute cuisine or street food, a soft perfume or a crunchy bite. It is simple and delicate; precisely for that reason, potent, powerful. This month, at Chispa, the flower appears twice. On the menu, it becomes a dessert: we work with only its own parts—petals, pistils, nectar—to transform it into a small, sweet and surprising universe. And on the menu, it is presented fried and smoked, as if fresh from a Roman wine cellar, without losing an ounce of elegance. Perhaps true fetishism is this: intensely desiring something you know won't last. In the kitchen, it's understanding that time is king. But while it lasts, here's our little vegetable fetish. Wish granted.
#LANEWS MAY'25

Sometimes you have to stop for a second, look down, and breathe. Not to stop, but to better understand the place we're in. And to remind ourselves that Chispa was born, simply, as an intuition. Chispa was born as a place that spoke from the fire, that connected Madrid with other geographies that we also carry within us, and, above all, that made each service an open conversation with those who sit at our table. This reflection hits us just after returning from Argentina, where we cooked in Mendoza and Buenos Aires. We came back different. Leaving home, crossing oceans, sharing kitchens... all of this invites us to ask ourselves what we want to tell. And in this dialogue with the other, we reinforce some certainties. The next stop will be London, inside a nomadic, almost clandestine restaurant, where we will once again cook with people we admire. It's not just about going out to cook: it's about learning, mingling, listening. And meanwhile, here in Chueca, we are in the midst of a menu change. Four new dishes are arriving. One with oysters and pork that already has us fascinated. Another, sweet, made only with zucchini—yes, only zucchini—that started as a prank and is becoming a declaration of principles. Not so long ago, such a move would have kept us awake at night. Today we experience it with serene concern, certain that Chispa is right where we dreamed of, moving in the direction we want. Very soon, we'll also have a new development that we're especially excited about: the expansion of the restaurant with a private room for 16 diners. A new space to explore different, more intimate and creative formats. We're finalizing the details; we'll tell you all about it in the next edition of #LANEWS. In the meantime, we continue. With fire. With calm. With hunger. A hug to everyone.
#LANEWS APRIL'25

At Chispa, fire is more than a technique, it's a language, and this Tuesday we'll speak it in two voices. A friend is coming to our house: Alatz Bilbao.
#LANEWS FROM CHISPA, MARCH´25

Welcome to LANEWS DE CHISPA. Here we'll talk about cooking, of course! But also about what inspires us, moves us, and moves us, inside and outside the restaurant. Chispa is fueled by our experiences, and these are some of them this month. #HE STORY OF A DISH: HARE, CRAB, AND PEA Some dishes are born from an idea. Others, from instinct. This one was born from a question: how do we use the whole hare? With the bones, we first created a deep broth. The meat from the hind and forequarters, wrapped in a crepineta, was transformed into the heart of a raviolo, bathed in that broth reduced in sauce. The blue crab arrived next, contributing its marine intensity to a base for coating a royal of the hare itself. Next to it, the teardrop peas, barely touched by the grill, added sweetness and freshness. And to close the circle, the seared, juicy, hare loin was the perfect ending. If we make good use of an ingredient, we get more on the plate: more flavor, more history, more skill, more truth. #LANEWS' PLAYLIST; THIS FIRST, CREATED BY JUAN D'ONOFRIO. Each #LANEWS playlist comes with its own soundtrack: a playlist created by someone connected to Chispa, who, in one way or another, has their own mark on our history.