Quetzal has really changed from our first visit. It’s busy and absolutely buzzing on a Thursday evening, likely thanks to their one Michelin star rating. And they started offering a tasting menu ($125 per person) to really increase the dishes each duo can try. They even have an “off menu” version, where you’re presented with some dishes that aren’t available a la carte or adjusted based on seasonal ingredients. You don’t have to ask me twice; off menu we go.

Note: This post contains the prices for dishes that are available a la carte. Portion sizes will likely be larger than what’s pictured.

Almost every table seemed to order the dry aged amberjack aguachile ($32). It’s certainly stunning with the ruby pink rhubarb juice studded with scallion oil, a mild but refreshing accompaniment to the fish. Having been dried aged, the amberjack was denser but still tender and the dollop of pasilla and chickpea miso gave it a bright pop of flavour. While I could have done without the jicama slice (it’s a bit dry and sucks some of the flavour out of the dish), the garnish does add to the dish’s presentation – just enjoy this separately.

Then things get interesting: we’re asked if we’d like to have a drink with the remaining rhubarb juice. Um, yes! Spooned into shot glasses and mixed with mezcal, the flavour profile completely changes from tart to savoury and spicy. It’s like magic.

Our next dish goes off the menu with a flatiron steak tartare. This needs to get on the menu as it was one of the best tartare I’ve had. Diced beef was mixed with olive, chilis, and something slightly crunchy (fried capers or puffed rice?) creating a wonderful varying bite. But it’s the airy hollandaise crowning the tartare that stole the show, adding a creamy element that’s not unlike aioli but much fresher and lighter.

The following memela is available on their menu, but the tasting gives it a different take. The toasted blue masa tortilla was covered with melted cheese, poblano (?) sauce, mushrooms, and pickled cactus, and a host of other ingredients. Together it created what I’ll describe as an amazing deep dish Mexican pizza, without the excess sauce and breading. One of these with a salad would be a great meal for one.

Who would have thought popcorn (albeit in powdered form) would pair well with Newfoundland scallops ($39)? A meaty sweet scallop, salty butter powder, herby garlic butter, and sprinkling of tangy Tajin created a delicious bite. Like Lays tag line goes… they’re so good, you can’t just have one.

While the hulking bone marrow and wild Argentinian shrimp ($52) looked impressive, it doesn’t work with tortillas – the flat bread doesn’t have the capacity to soak up the oily juices and the marrow was too blubbery to spread on the smooth surface. In the end, you have a slightly oily tortilla with a clump of blubber in the centre.

Still, I followed their instructions to scoop a bit of marrow onto a tortilla, add a piece of beautifully grilled shrimp, and top with a squeeze of lime. It’s edible, but I feel like the shrimp paired with slices of lardo it would work even better. Just make sure to scrape some of the honey glaze from the bone marrow as its burst of smoky sweetness brings the taco to a whole new level.

Every course is accompanied with tortilla, so by this time I’m getting full. Hence, if you’re doing the tasting menu, hold off on finishing all the tortillas at the beginning. Another plate arrives with the grilled hanger steak, and they complement this dish perfectly, so you’ll want the room in your stomach. Slathered with the black garlic mole negro and wrapped around steak, shishito pepper, mushroom, and sprinkled with queso fresco, you have yourself a delicious taco.

Still, if you’re too full, each element tastes great solo. The steak was tender and beautifully cooked. Add some of the earthy and slightly sweet mole negro for a deeper flavour.

Grilled maitake mushrooms are such a treat and Quetzal provides a generous portion alongside oyster mushrooms in the mushroom and shishito ($26). Having developed a crust, the mushrooms take on a meatiness with a creamy spiciness from the poblano crema and ancho sauce.

I’m glad it’s all paired with the Clearwater Farm tomato and cucumber salad ($25) as I really needed something light and refreshing to end the meal. A variety of tomatoes and crispy de-skinned cucumber are tossed with pickled garlic scape, queso fresco, fermented anaheim crema, garlic crisps, and shiso so the salad was anything but boring.

Surprisingly, the coconut nicuatole ($17) was the richer dessert of the two presented. The coconut cream was thickened with masa creating a luscious pudding that resembled tapioca or rice counterparts. I just wish there were more pieces of the compressed pineapple soaked in mezcal to go with each bite as it really jazzed up the nicuatole.

The spiced Mexican chocolate ($16) was airy and almost glided across the tongue. Crispy sponge toffee adds crunch while passionfruit provides freshness. I normally hate chocolate and fruit desserts but didn’t mind this one.

Usually, I don’t like eating at the bar, but scoring a last-minute reservation didn’t leave many options. Luckily, the bar seats were the next best thing to the Chef’s table - the bartenders were so friendly and even educated on the dishes.

Of course, they are even more knowledgeable about mezcal, so if you want to sample this spirit, Quetzal is the place to visit. They have an amazing selection and if you provide a price point, they’ll bring forward some options and describe each one in detail. It’s how we settled on the Colores ($57), after finding out the high-end bottle at $150 per oz was too rich for our blood.

It just seemed appropriate to end with a sip of mezcal. After all, it brings our tasting full circle, having started us off when mixed with the rhubarb juice from the amberjack. 

While Es Ventall is set within the city limits of Sant Antoni, walk into the restaurant and you’re transported into an idyllic oasis especially while dining al fresco. Sitting in the courtyard is oddly calming, amongst nature and the enormous fig tree, giving the establishment a charm that’s difficult to replicate elsewhere.  

For diners who aren’t familiar with Ibizan cuisine, Es Ventall’s menu is descriptive listing out the individual ingredients and eliciting a sense of excitement to see how things tie together. The Ibizan tomatoes salad (19€) starts with a bed of ripe chopped tomatoes and tops it with a full burrata, which when broken creates a creaminess to the dish. Strawberries and basil add an interesting refreshing element, but I would have skipped the crunchy pistachios that detract from the silkiness of the salad.

I can’t turn down trying a roasted aubergine (17€), which when done well takes the spongy eggplant and turns it into a creamy concoction. Es Ventall whole roasts the vegetable until it’s soft but still holds its shape and smears a sugary praline and fruit mixture on top. The dish is too dessert-like for me, I wish the praline spread was replaced with something savoury that would go better with the basil cream.

Our waiter describes the tomato and grilled prawn salad (26€) as being smaller, which is an understatement as the dish is truly skimpy. To call the crustaceans on the plate as grilled “prawns” is misleading, the thumb sized items are spot prawn sized, which are generally served by the half cup than individually. These Ibiza prawns are equally sweet, but given their petite size, the chef really needs to give more of these on the plate or at least leave them in the shell.

At the very least, serve the “prawns” with more than a scant quartered tomato, crème fraiche, and an oil sorbet that while adds a lovely richness, melts into nothingness. For the price, this dish needs more tomatoes, other vegetables, and a helping of grilled crostini to swipe up the sauces.

We didn’t order the cuttlefish and Ibiza prawns’ paella with aioli (24€ per serving; a three serving portion pictured below), but the kitchen mistakenly mixed up our order with another table, so we ended up having it as our main. While the dish had a lovely aroma, the rice was awfully salty reminding me of the soy sauce tasting concoction I had in Barcelona a decade earlier. Perhaps this is the traditional way of preparing paella, but the saltiness is so pungent that it detracts from the seafood and the rice becomes saturated in sauce that there’s no crispy bottom. This paella was a bust.

It's a shame, as I had really wanted to try the fideua, a dish that’s made paella style but switches out the rice for pasta instead. For one, it’s rarely seen elsewhere, and I love trying new creations. Alas, the humid August heat was getting to us and despite the miniscule starters our hunger simply went away. Sitting al fresco may be idyllic and romantic but give me air conditioning instead. 

Fismuler operates with an efficiency that seems apt for it’s German sounding name. Not long after sitting down, a starter of bread and whipped paté was brought over while we settled in. Just be mindful the nibble costs 2.75€ a person, a fact detailed at the bottom of the menu we had yet to review. Still, we enjoyed the soft crusty bread, silky and light paté, and thin lightly pickled cucumbers that helped tide us over.

The small plates were the more impressive dishes of the evening. Consequently, the crusty bread goes nicely with everything so try not to devour it right away. The sweet tomato salad (13.50€) was simple but deliciously good - ripe sliced tomatoes topped with a fragrant olive oil and flakes of salt.

It complements the burrata (17€), which has an amazing spicy green mole giving the cheese a burst of flavour. In fact, the whole dish was different: the burrata accompanied with roasted broccolini, an unusual green that works. I could have easily had an order to myself.

When our server suggested the chicken wings (18.50€) I had my doubts, but the nuggets of fried deboned chicken tossed in a creamy truffle sauce were addictive. The sauce, of course, became an excuse to have even more bread.

Of the small plates, only the fresh calamari (20.50€) was a bust. The seafood was over cooked, way over salted, and hidden amongst so much unnecessary foam. Give me more of the chicken wings any day.

Still, the calamari was better than the egregiously overdone and tough duck (25.50€), one of the worst renditions of the dish I’ve ever had. Perhaps, it could have been salvaged if the duck was cut thinner… even then, I feel they would still be chewy. The side dishes weren’t any better: the charred corn turned out to be the canned variety and the spring onions left whole and unseasoned. The best part of the dish was the puréed sweet potatoes.

I wish I had heeded the server’s recommendation to order the Viennese schnitzel (29€). Pounded to a cardboard thinness and the size of a pizza, the schnitzel gets a thin coating of raw egg yolk tableside before being jazzed up with shaved truffles and chives. It was perhaps a touch salty, but at least it was crispy and not overdone.