Desarma*

If you are here, it is because you are ready to surrender. You have surrendered before knowing to whom or what. A lost fight for the decision to try and win in the unknown. Here, the firearms are of a different kind. It’s in the stove that we fight the battles. It’s in the line of each recipe that we aim for the arguments and fire away to the taste of conviction. Here, every conquest starts in the look. At attention, the mouth prepares for the offensive. In senses, starts the attack. Bitter, sweet, acid, salty, hot, cold, surprising, explosive. An army of sensations that disarms us with each attack. We hear the deafening silence of food that leaves us speechless. In this place, where conversation is not made, the conversation makes itself. The trigger of each course pulls out the words. And when it arrives at the table it speaks for itself. This is the battlefield of the senses where we fight for the triumph of flavor. Where we plant the beauty of simple food: as it is and not as we wish it would be. Here, you don’t find flowers in the dish, but in the palate. And with each bite a new spring is born. This is the only battle that makes sense fighting for. The battle of senses fought in your mouth.

Welcome. Prepare to surrender!

* a battle of senses fought in your mouth.