Top Chef Versus Disciple in a Small Town in Spain
Can some good come out of a top chef rivalry of soap-opera proportions in tiny Axpe?
Playing with fire: The beef at Asador Etxebarri
Photograph by Howard Chua-Eoan/Bloomberg
The word for what’s happening in the tiny Spanish farming community of Axpe is “chutzpah,” though the two chefs involved don’t speak Yiddish and there’s no real equivalent in their native Basque and Japanese to convey that kind of gob-smacking, almost admirable audacity. The picturesque town has one world-famous enterprise: Asador Etxebarri, where Bittor Arginzoniz has transformed the hardy art of grilling into a magical instrument of fine dining over the last two decades. Even the ice cream has a touch of fire. It is one of the most sought-after restaurant reservations in the world.
Culinary pilgrims fly into Bilbao and drive about 40 minutes to Etxebarri via roads that often defy Google maps. Now, however, there’s another bit of confusion. Visitors will discover another fine dining restaurant, which opened in May. A six-minute walk down from Etxebarri is a much smaller establishment called Asador Txispa that some wags have nicknamed Tetxebarri, after its chef Tetsuro Maeda. The Japanese cook is not any upstart riding into town to challenge Arginzoniz on his home turf. That would be chutzpah enough. Throw this in: For a decade, Maeda apprenticed to the master in the Etxebarri kitchen, rising from cleaning fish to become virtually Arginzoniz’s deputy. The new restaurant — which opened in May — has broken Etxebarri’s monopoly in Axpe. In Basque, Txispa means “spark” — a reference to the grilling that Maeda too practices in his new spot. Will he start a fire?
