Clómada: the Basque-Ecuadorian cuisine that shines in Málaga

He opened his new restaurant, Clómada, a zeppelin-shaped space in the heart of Málaga, in April. By November, it had already received a Michelin Guide recommendation. It's clear he's also a master of the culinary arts; his own cuisine being Ecuadorian, and the Basque cuisine he frequents.

Her menu showcases a fine Basque-French tradition—dairy sauces, stocks, and juicy cooking times—with Latin punctuation. There's a strong San Sebastián influence in her dishes. It's no surprise, given that she honed her skills in the city on the Urumea River. She worked with Hilario Arbelaitz at the sadly now-closed Zuberoa. In fact, while Federer is her tennis idol, she considers Hilario a role model in the kitchen: "As soon as I saw him work, I knew I wanted to be like him," she says with conviction. She's not only referring to the Basque chef's culinary prowess, but also to his way of treating his team, his work ethic: that of someone who doesn't leave the kitchen for the limelight. "He was there every day at 8 a.m. and didn't leave until the last customer had departed," she remarks with a touch of nostalgia.

After that, she worked at Subijana's Akelarre, eventually becoming head chef. Travel, in her blood since she first picked up a racket at age six—later she studied on an athletic scholarship in the US and ended up studying culinary arts in Miami—took her from San Sebastián to Málaga, jobless, homeless, and friendless. Always taking risks. Going with the flow, but with determination. "Be casual!" she likes to say. Within two weeks, she was working with José Carlos García at his restaurant, the first Michelin-starred establishment in the capital of the Costa del Sol. Soon, the whole team was calling her boss, because she was. She remained so for two years, until she felt ready to open her own place.

On the table, a gilda of tuna marinated in patxaran—this makes perfect sense—, a bikini sandwich of Idiazabal cheese where the bread is a sponge cake made with txistorra fat. On top of it, txistorra mayonnaise and a refreshing piparra pepper gel. Also among the appetizers is a yucca bread with cheese and sal prieta—typical in Ecuador, made with ground peanuts and corn, annatto, cumin, and coriander—and a fantastic tartlet filled with cured txuleta (aged for 12 hours) with dots of piquillo pepper cream and fried potatoes, a classic dish in Basque steakhouses, a superb appetizer. Málaga is represented by a marinated anchovy with roasted lemon gel. To cleanse the palate between courses, a revitalizing beetroot gazpacho, which is really a clear and fresh broth made from the vegetable.

In the dining room, Rodrigo greets you with a 'kaixo' if the occasion arises. He met Claudine in San Sebastián. He came to work in Málaga—he was at Dani Carnero's Kaleja, among other places—and they met again here. When she told him about Clómada, he didn't hesitate to join her in this venture. He's the one who presents a confit leek hidden beneath a leek and cauliflower cream, crowned with caviar. It has bite, creaminess, the freshness of the leek, the sweetness of the caviar, and the salty tang of the roe. A point for the chef.

The prawn tartare on a beautiful pipirrana with a tasty tomato and seafood water is convincing, because it always is, and the Ecuadorian ceviche of sea bream pickled in lime is a joy, with the appearance of an ajoblanco —and more welcoming, with a round, integrated flavor and less acidic than the Peruvian one— with corn sauce, cilantro oil and avocado.

The dish takes a turn with the encebollado, a typical Ecuadorian fish soup, which in this case loses its acidity to resemble Basque fish soup, one of the great seafood dishes of the Basque Country, a benchmark for the best restaurants. It breaks with tradition by incorporating a succulent bluefin tuna sashimi, given its southern origins. It's one of those dishes that perfectly blends all three elements and works.

“I’d never seen so much foie gras in my life! It was… wow!” the chef says with a laugh, reminiscing about her time in Zuberoa. “I think he used more foie gras than anyone else in the world! I learned how to use foie gras from him, how to sear it, how to add it to dishes—that’s why this tribute.” And the tribute is cappellacci stuffed with porcini mushrooms, with an addictive foie gras sauce, cured egg yolk, and truffle. “He served a langoustine ravioli with foie gras sauce that was simply insane,” she remarks admiringly. She is, without a doubt, a star pupil.

These are followed by two very classic dishes: grilled sea bass with fennel prepared four ways (air, cream, pickled, and roasted) and a Trasacar (Asturias) sirloin steak—"many of my suppliers are from Zuberoa: if they're good, why change?"—celeriac cream, its own demi-glace, pickled asparagus, and a plantain crisp. A blend of northern and southern traditions in constant—and successful—balance. Classic and succulent dishes.

Claudine Paulson is a force of nature, and her vision has illuminated Málaga, where in recent years a new generation of chefs has been opening restaurants of exceptional gastronomic quality. Clómada is part of this contemporary culinary scene, offering a cuisine that is quite unusual in this region, which is a welcome change.

If you search for her on YouTube out of curiosity, a couple of her training videos appear. She takes quick steps, twitches her racket in a tic of concentration, wipes the sweat from her brow with her forearm, just as she's doing now in the kitchen of this place designed by her brother, which also features a mural by her mother, an artist.

Claudine Paulson has put down the tennis racket, but she hasn't given up competing. Now she competes in the kitchen: "It makes me better, faster." Now she doesn't compete against anyone. Only against herself.

Cloman's Restaurant

Address: Méndez Núñez, 12, Málaga, Spain.