<a target="_blank" href="http://www.casacamara.com/">Casa Cámara</a>

79, Pasai Donibane

Gipuzkoa,&nbsp;Spain

Tel. 943 523 699

BY NEAL MARTIN | NOVEMBER 01, 2019&nbsp;The Food:

Fried
calamari 

Octopus
with paprika and olive oil

Razor
clams garnished with parsley

Whole
turbot with cockles, peeled prawns and roast potato

Reineta pudding with
custard

Strawberry
cheesecake

Chocolate
mousse

The Wine:

2017 Bodegas K5 Argiñano&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;92 

Gastronomes
flock to San Sebastián, the coastal city of northwest Spain, a constellation of
boisterous pintxos bars and destination restaurants such as Arzak and
Martin Berasagetui (the latter of which provided the most dazzling meal I have
enjoyed over the last decade). Personally, I always make a detour to the city’s
less trodden and touristic enclave – namely, the nearby port of San Juan de
Pasajes, or Pasaia in the Basque tongue, directly east of San Sebastián.

Let’s
not beat about the bush; at first glance San Juan de Pasajes looks like the city’s
industrial underbelly with its blocks of vast warehouses and rusted quayside
cranes. As you walk up the pedestrianized cobbled single artery on the northern
flank of the Río Oiartzun that ends at a craggy keyhole entrance to the
Atlantic, you cannot help noticing the timeworn shabbiness of the ancient
buildings, the graffiti or the occasional whiff of urine in the darkened
underpasses. I can live with that. This is a thriving fishing community with
busy wharfs, and a place soaked in history (Victor Hugo resided here for
several years). The bay is packed with rowing teams practicing their synchronized
strokes, the bars are noisy and the squares are busy with locals enjoying their
pintxos amid noisy chatter. There is something visceral about Pasaia
that keeps bringing me back – along with one of my favorite restaurants.<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1572616629090-casa+camara+bay.jpg"> 

Casa Cámara sits on the Río
Oiartzun. It is the building in the center of this picture.

Nestled
down this thoroughfare, huddling among higgledy-piggledy 17th-century houses on
the cusp of tumbling into the sea, you will find Casa Cámara, one of the oldest
restaurants in the region. Founder Pablo Cámara served the first meal here in
1884. Four generations and 135 years later, every table was full of couples and
families, a mixture of regulars and foreigners who had caught wind of this gem.
Longevity is a rare commodity with respect to restaurants, and Casa Cámara has outlasted
them all. It’s a great place to take little ones, not least because they can lean
over a balustraded square opening and peer down at the caged lobsters in the shallow
seawater below. This is where a bit of theatre comes into play. Whenever lobster
or crab is ordered, the cage is hoisted up by a series of pulleys that look as
if they were installed back in 1884. Awestruck kids gather to watch the
creatures crawl around the cage in the middle of the restaurant, something you
don’t see in your local McDonald’s. The night of my visit, I watched a young
boy dangle his chosen lobster by the tail. He was escorted by the waiter to the
kitchen to see it boiled alive. I doubt he will grow up to be vegetarian.<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1572616650920-casa+camara+cage.jpg"> 

The waiter invites one of
the young diners to hoist up the cage and choose dinner. 

As
you might guess by now, I would never advocate Casa Cámara as one of the
region’s most salubrious places to dine, yet it undeniably possesses a unique
beauty. Half the restaurant – in fact, the dining area – is built on stilts
over the water that laps immediately below the window-side tables. You become
mesmerized by the commuting fishing boats chugging their way outside. This time,
I noticed the beautiful tiled flooring that must have been laid decades ago. Latticed
windows extend around all three sides of the restaurant, generating a feeling
of space and creating a sensation of eating outside rather than inside. It is
quaint and pretty, charming and unpretentious. The Cámara family continues to
serve customers and make sure everything runs smoothly. The staff, refreshingly,
consists of not hip young dudes but a mixture of family members and older
ladies who have been there for years.<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1572617039644-casa+camara+octopus.jpg"> Octopus with paprika and olive oil Of
course, seafood is obligatory at Casa Cámara. I ordered three starters to
share. The fried calamari was good, though not as good as at some of the upper-end
tapas bars in the city. These came in a light batter, which kids love, but which
I find detracts from the flavor. Better was a fabulous plate of locally caught octopus
generously sprinkled with paprika and olive oil, perfectly cooked and seasoned.
Best of all were the freshly caught razor clams that came simply garnished with
parsley: chewy but not overcooked, and displaying a subtle saline tang. <img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1572617047188-casa+camara+razor+clams.jpg"> Razor clams garnished with parsley In
the past I have enjoyed a fantastic sole meunière
at Casa Cámara, and the fresh lobster is as good as you will find. I was
recommended the shared whole turbot served with cockles, peeled prawns and
roast potato. The fish is divided at the table according to your instructions.
I compared it to the already legendary turbot served at <a target="_blank" href="https://vinous.com/articles/vinous-table-brat-london-uk-aug-2018">Brat</a>
in London. Of course, here you do not have the emulsified skin, and there is
less fleshy white meat by comparison. I would say that the turbot at Brat is
more of an event and more memorable, whereas this is just a lovely,
mouthwatering fish with perfectly crisp black skin oozing flavor. I also
ordered hake in a pil-pil sauce –
faultless, to be honest. <img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1572616721850-casa+camara+turbot.jpg"> The main attraction was this delicious whole turbot with all the trimmings.

The
desserts probably get overlooked in a place like this, but I had forgotten how
good they are. A gooey strawberry cheesecake, one like your mum used to make,
was polished off in no time, and the only complaint about the chocolate mousse
was that there was too much to finish the bowl. The reineta pudding with custard was moist and dense, if just a little
too sweet for my taste.

There’s
good news and bad news about the wine list.

The
bad news is that it’s way too brief and choices are severely limited; that has
always been the way here. The good news is that they did have what might well
be the finest white from the local D.O. Getariako Txakolina that I have tasted.
I was blown away! The 2017 Argiñano from Bodegas K5 is a 100% Hondarrabi
Zuri cultivated on granite soils that overlook the Cantabrian Sea; the bodega’s
name derives from the five founding friends. The wine sports green flecks in
the glass, and the fabulous nose offers vivid lime and Granny Smith scents
flanked by pungent sea spray, crustacea and seaweed to ram home where this wine
comes from. The palate is so razor-sharp that the acidity could leave you with
a paper cut on your tongue, yet it is perfectly balanced, intense but not
overwhelming, with a lip-smacking salty kiss on a finish that is blooming glorious.
If anything, it improved over the next 24 hours, gaining more harmony and
nuance. It left me pondering why we pay such premiums for classic regions, when
this gem is a measly €25 on a restaurant list.<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1572616746469-casa+camara+k5.jpg"> 

Casa
Cámara is a great place to go to if you want a break from the glitzy, touristy
side of San Sebastián and its environs. The restaurant is not directly
accessible by car and requires a 10-minute walk; alternatively, a ferry boat across
the bay drops you just a few meters away. Booking is essential, although it is
not a place you must reserve months in advance. Spanish and French are spoken,
and one of the waiters spoke perfectly good English; likewise, the menu is
written in all three languages. This is an institution that goes about its
business in discreet fashion, doing what it has done for decades: serving
delicious seafood and providing a memorable evening out. I have no doubt it
will be here for decades to come. &nbsp;

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