2 weeks Ago By Rosa Rodon
It goes without saying that bookstores nourish the critical spirit, the thirst for knowledge, and, ultimately, the soul. But today we'll tell you about a bookstore that also nourishes us in the most prosaic, honest, and direct way possible: + Bernat. A friend warned me: "You have to go taste the meatballs they make.
" She touched the right keys to make me want to go and find out. What I didn't know is that the person hiding behind the meatballs with chanfaina and basmati rice was Carles Armengol and a whole chain of events that took him from the Collblanc neighborhood to the upper area. Armengol is a social being.
He greets everyone who enters the bookstore by name. He knows what they're going to order and who they are. He learned to cook while doing homework at his parents' bar, Collado.
He lived "the curse"—in his own words—of growing up in a diner. He moved away and became a psychologist. He worked in market research and making us want to buy what we buy.
Until the crisis took him away from this world, and he organically returned to work in the restaurant business. It was a trade he knew how to do, just as he learned to ride a bicycle. When his father retired and locked up Collado, he saw him cry.
Something unusual. It was then that he decided he would write a book. He stayed for ten years.
The fact is that this book, titled and published by a small publishing house (Colectivo Bruxista) was a phenomenon. Marc Giró, for example, echoed this article in this newspaper and Xavier Theros in . All those readers who had grown up sitting at a bar surrounded by the usual clientele felt reflected in it.
Montse Serrano's sharp eye Sant Jordi's Day arrived, and his book sold very well, especially at a bookstore, + Bernat. Armengol went with his editor and there he met Montse Serrano. According to Armengol, "she knew how to read people," and whose She suggested he run the bookstore's coffee shop.
The conditions were very good, and that's how it all began. Armengol has reconciled himself with the hospitality industry, a sector that has changed a lot and now allows for better hours. He works Monday through Friday.
He opens in the morning, where he begins serving breakfast. Especially his magnificent sandwiches, all of which have names straight out of a book: Gatopardo (Bologna mortadella with cashew pesto, smoked scamorza cheese, and spinach); Americanah (seared white broth with walnuts, black bishop with pistachios and Havarti cheese); Crime and Punishment (seared Iberian sobrasada with Maó cheese, baked eggplant, and a touch of honey). Or the classic bikini, which is called, of course, Collado.
The midday formula is unbeatable. You'll always find a salad with falafel, nuts, and yogurt sauce, but apart from that, every day Carles Armengol designs a hot casserole dish: stewed lentils, curried meatballs, chicken with teriyaki sauce, or stewed squid with chickpeas, potatoes, and romesco sauce. Every day, whatever's on offer.
And on Fridays, he finishes cleaning. The dish of the day costs 10.50, with a drink 11.
90, and with dessert 13.50. He has a lot of regular customers, who seek the bookstore's atmosphere for a quiet meal.
From people who grab their iPads and take the opportunity to watch a series, to those who prefer intimacy and head to the tables in the back. You can come in the afternoon for a snack; you'll find good pastries. Armengol has a symbiotic relationship with the bookstore and also manages the catering for book launches, dinners with writers, and dominoes and bridge days.
Anything and everything happens in that bookstore. Carles Armengol's father, who comes from a classical culinary background and had been with Josep Lladonosa, now visits him by bicycle and lends a hand from time to time when Carlos needs advice. A new chapter for this family, in a different neighborhood and time, but with the same love for providing good food for the family.
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