"I don't want to die with my boots on. I want to rest. In the summer, we can work in the kitchen at 40 and 50 degrees."

Axpe-AtxondoIt's Thursday, 11 a.m., and the streets of Axpe-Atxondo (Vizcaya) are filled with children and two instructors playing with a ball. In the middle of Plaza San Juan, adorned with flags of the Ikurriñes (Basque flag), is the Asador Etxebarri restaurant, flanked by a Basque pelota court and a beautiful church dedicated to Saint John. Apple orchards line the entrance to the restaurant. Chef Bittor Arginzoniz opens the door to the bar, which is located on the side of the building, where the parking lot is located. The bar is on the ground floor of the restaurant, and on Sundays, guests can eat and drink without a reservation, although a reservation is required for the ten tables in the restaurant, located on the first floor and in the mezzanine of the building.

He is dressed in trousers trekking and black t-shirt, and tells me that he remembers the conversation we had in Turin, just before the start of The World's 50 th Best Restaurants gala, where we would learn that, against all odds, it would not be the best restaurant in the world, but would remain in second place for another year.

"Look, I don't like going to events or gastronomic parties, but on the list World's 50th Best, Yes, I like to go, because its impact is very large, and it has a lot of influence. I don't think the same thing happens with the Michelin Guide", says the chef. As we begin to talk, the sommelier, Moha Benabdallah, arrives. The world's top sommelier has declared him number one in his profession. "It's an award that puts pressure on me because the first person to win this prize was Josep Roca, but the others who have followed him are also very well-known people, from Algeria to Valencia when he was twenty-five, and since then he has always worked in the restaurant sector. I also add the passion he transmits for viticulture, for farmers, for winemakers. He spends his holidays traveling to visit wineries, and he says that what he likes most are the stories the producers tell him." The first winery I came across was Mas Doix"I didn't have a tour scheduled; I asked if I could come in, they told me Valentí Llagostera wasn't there, but they gave me an extraordinary explanation and tasting; I'll never forget it," says Moha, who adds that he never says who he is, that he doesn't introduce himself by saying he's the sommelier at the Etxebarri restaurant. "Wine people treat everyone equally, because they want to share their work, and they like people to visit their wineries," he says.

We return to the table with the chef, Bittor, who at this time of the morning, 11 a.m., is calmer than Moha, who says he has to go home (near the restaurant) to print the menus. The Asador Etxebarri restaurant doesn't advertise the dishes on its website for the tasting menu, which is unique and costs 280 euros without wine. It does specify that those who want to eat have allergies or intolerances to fish or meat should not attend. To make a reservation, you must pay for the menu immediately. "We established this in 2016 because we believed it was the way to organize and secure work, but nevertheless, there are people who pay it and never show up," says Bittor.

The future of Etxebarri

We led the conversation at the gala of the World's 50th Best, and I tell him that many of us thought he was going to win, that Etxebarri would become the best restaurant in the world. "I didn't think anything of it," he confesses. But he does affirm that he's looking forward to a break, that he's been working since he was four years old. "Yes, at four years old I was already watching the animals my parents had to look after, and I've never stopped since."

Last April, he turned 65, and he says age is unforgiving. "My son, Paul, is 26 years old, works in the dining room with his mother, my partner, and he's told us he wants to continue working at Etxebarri, but now I'm looking for someone to carry on my culinary legacy, because it's a shame it's being lost." And then Bittor emphasizes the difficulty of finding someone willing to stand in front of the grill. "It's hard, and now in the summer months when we work, June and July, it's 50 degrees," says Bittor. "Young people don't have the sacrifice that our generation has always had; it's difficult, and I want all the work we've done at Etxebarri to live on," he adds.

When he says this job, Bittor means the knowledge he has of each of the ingredients he cooks on the grill. Fish, shellfish, vegetables, legumes—they all go through the grill, and Bittor knows the best utensil for cooking them (he designs them himself with the help of a blacksmith from Guipúzcoa) and the exact cooking time they require. For the Palamós red prawns, they are perfectly cooked: they're not raw, but juicy. In Catalonia, we would drizzle them with a good splash of extra virgin olive oil and a pinch of salt. At Etxebarri, they serve them just as Bittor cooked them. Nothing more is needed because the prawns were fresh, and simplicity adds up to an excellent product.

Working in front of the embers requires knowledge and also sacrifice. I go down to the restaurant's engine room, to the kitchen, located on the ground floor, and notice the high temperature Bittor mentioned. I don't know the exact temperature, but it's quite high. "The story people like to hear is that we suffer cooking, we suffer doing our job," says the cook. He emphasizes that it's a lot of sacrifice, that it's a lot of hours. "So many that I haven't even seen my children grow up; before I realized it, they were both quite grown, and now one lives in Madrid and the other, Paul, is with us," Bittor continues, explaining that he hasn't left Axpe-Atxondo for sixty-five years. "I was born here, raised here, and I work here; the restaurant is located next to my house, where I have the garden, from which I pick the tomatoes and lettuce," with which he makes two dishes. With the tomatoes, he prepares one consisting of a skinless tomato with a strip of tuna on top. With lettuce, it is necessary to lengthen these lines of the paragraph, because the lettuce is as much a protagonist as the txuleton, which is served carved in the middle of the table, each of the small, grilled steaks to share. On the side, the lettuce salad with tasty flavors. Two. Customers often arrive very punctually, at 1 p.m., and don't leave until after 8 p.m. They go from the dining room to the terrace, planted with plants and flowers, from where you can enjoy a good view of the town.

The chef explains that Etxebarri's cuisine is the only one he knows. It's what he grew up with when there was no electricity in the village homes, and everything was cooked over the fire. "My childhood memories are centered around a table, everyone sitting down. No one started eating unless everyone was seated, and values were instilled at the table; that's how children were raised, and that's no longer the case," explains Bittor. In fact, the chef is irritated by the idea of no one sitting with anyone else at mealtimes. "I see a very bleak future; and what will endure in the restaurant business will be franchises. So, hamburgers and kebabs will reign supreme," he says. He doesn't like it this way because, as he repeats, he has spent many years working for a different kind of food: bringing fresh produce to the table, cooked with respect, so that it shines in every bite. A product that he makes himself whenever he can, like buffalo cheese. What he cannot afford, he buys from suppliers of recognized quality, like Joselito, from whom he buys the chorizo and ham. The prawns, from Palamós. The fish, like the docks, which he now cooks, from the ports of the Basque Country. Always the best product, at two hundred and eighty, which for tourists is a gift.

While we finish talking, I tell him that next year's list of World's 50th Best It seems like it will take place in Abu Dhabi. It could be the city where Asador Etxebarri becomes the best restaurant in the world. I ask the chef if it would be his dream to win first place and retire. "My dream is to hold on until my body responds; I wouldn't like to die with my boots on, but rather I would like to rest, travel; I've made enough sacrifices that for now I won't be able to rest for several years when I'm older." And with these words, he looks at Moha, who is in the midst of a professional ascent. He speaks five languages, visits wineries on their closed days (from September onwards: Mondays and Tuesdays), serves wines with respect, and explains the winery to customers. "I don't provide invasive service, but rather see if customers ask me questions and want information; I prefer that they try first and ask me later," says the sommelier. These are the discreet ways that have earned him the award for best sommelier in the world.