I still remember the day we met. I was working in France, and one weekend when I returned to Sant Pol, I went to cook at Salvador Sauleda's house with Josep Vilella. During that meal, they mentioned a man named Santi Santamaria; I'd never heard of him before. They told me he had a restaurant in Sant Celoni, a town in the Baix Montseny region. "He has two Michelin stars," they said. And so I went back to Paris.
It was there, a few months later, that I met Santi for the first time. It was in Marne-la-Vallée, where Disneyland Paris is located. We met at the hotel reception, and that's where I learned about his project for the first time. We set a date for me to start, and once my time in Paris was over, I went to Sant Celoni.
Those were the years when he received his third Michelin star. We worked side by side. A lot of demands, pressure, teamwork, a lot of work, but what I want to tell you about today are these magical moments we were able to share. I remember vermouths at Can Maitanquis, I remember breakfasts at La Batllòria, I remember the afternoons we spent on the Montseny Coast having snacks that felt like lunch and dinner at the same time, where we talked and discussed topics from all walks of life: professional, political, artistic.
I felt this overwhelming need to read, for culture, to soak up knowledge. I was someone you could spend hours talking to. Around a plate, a good porrón (traditional Spanish wine pitcher), and even a gin and tonic, we spent extraordinary afternoons, with that view we had from the stained-glass window of the restaurant's dining room on the coast. I remember those fritters that María used to make for us. I remember when he took me with Josep Vilella to Pierre Wynants' restaurant in Brussels, Comme chez Soi, when we ate with Robuchon in Paris, when he interceded with Alain Ducasse, when we were at the Louis XV in Monte Carlo with Mercè. And to Michel Guérard, to Eugénie-les-Bains with the late Jean-Luc. Or when I discovered Can Parrufo in Hostalric, during one of those splendid afternoon teas we occasionally treated ourselves to. With Roger Souverens and so many other chef friends from all over the world.
Thank you for your generosity, Santi. They were experiences shared by two people who shared the same goal: to serve food with respect, quality ingredients, and sensitivity. The luxury of simplicity, as you used to say.
I often think about the privilege it was to live through this period of my life, in which we were able to share so many moments and so many stories. There were many things that were meant to happen that were cut short fifteen years ago. I've always thought that, wherever you are, you're okay, at peace. Know that your principles still live on and that local cuisine is a strong reality. We move forward, we keep cooking, we keep giving, we keep receiving. Thank you.
