Review: De La Torres

Zarzuela de marisco is a stew of shrimp, mussels, clams, calamari and scallops in a creamy sauce. (Credit: Michael Hayman)

Stepping into De la Torre's Spanish Restaurant calms the spirit.

Pale walls bedecked by hand-painted tiles, tall beams of burnished wood, tables clad in dark cloth, flickering candles, salt-and-pepper shakers of hammered copper, and the softly urgent beat of flamenco rhythms create an aura at once courtly and cozy.

We had slopped our way through a torrential rainstorm, and with water dribbling from every surface, cozy courtliness was what we needed. It came quickly in a glass of ultra-dry Tio Pepe Fino sherry ($5.75) and warm crunchy bread served with soft butter and lemony-garlicky ali-oli (the Spanish moniker for aioli).

Before long, all thoughts of rain had disappeared behind plates of tapas. Though tapas-inspired menus are ubiquitous these days, in Louisville, De la Torre's and its sister restaurant, the adjoining La Bodega, can lay claim to the only truly Spanish tapas in town — after all, De la Torre's is the only restaurant in town that's owned and operated by a chef born and trained in Spain.

I thought I could rely on friends Ellen and Jim to judge the food's authenticity; Ellen lived in Spain for a long stretch, and the two of them had just returned from a holiday in Madrid.

But we were soon so entranced by hot, crunchy disks of house-made chorizo swimming in crimson oil ($6.50), translucent sheets of lean salty-sweet Serrano ham ($9), and De la Torre's version of tortilla de patatas ($5), the potato omelet that's a mainstay of Spanish cooking, that conversation became impossible.

Then, after some delay, came a platter of artisanal Spanish cheeses ($12). For a moment, I felt slighted that our server had neglected to bring us another basket of bread, but after a while I didn't care. This may be one of the finest cheese platters in the city, perfectly aged and beautifully presented. Manchego, slightly salty on the tongue, straddled a perfect cusp between silky youth and crumbly maturity.

If service sometimes seemed a bit breathlessly out of sync with the surroundings and the relaxed pleasures of a leisurely meal, it was certainly warm — and well-informed.

It turned out our server had studied in Spain and had a fine knowledge of both the wine list and the menu. We sampled flights of white wine ($7 for tastes of three whites or reds from a one-page, moderately priced list that ranges from crisp, citrusy white Riojas (Marques de Caceres, $5.50/$25) to big, rough-edged red Tempranillos (Mano A Mano, $5.50/$25). We drank house-made Sangria, adorned by slices of orange and lemon ($4.75; $25 for a pitcher).

Of our entrees, zarzuela de marisco ($23.95) was the stand-out favorite: a stew of finely prepared shrimp, mussels, clams, calamari and scallops was garbed in a creamy sauce as light as it was peppery — and this was accompanied by red cabbage so rich that it alone might be reason enough to hop a plane to Madrid.

Paella mariscos ($19.95 per person) paled by comparison; the rice, and most of the seafood (mussels, clams, calamari, scallops) were perfectly turned out, but shrimp had been cooked a step beyond succulence, and where the zarzuela was a font of aromas and flavors, the paella was a wallflower, shy and reserved.

We closed our meal with a chocolate mousse draped in a sauce that tasted like nothing other than liquid toffee. And when we stepped into the night, it was as if the rains had never happened.

Add a comment