In March 2021, as the first anniversary of the epidemic was marked, Enrique Valenti reclaimed leadership of Dressing, returning to ownership after years of working for others. His journey had seen him reopen a restaurant with a renewed sense of purpose, after a later stint with Barcelona and a challenging period following his arrival from Madrid in 2001. The project carried a personal edge, a continuation of an earlier dream that had been set aside by an organization bearing his name years before.
Valenti had always excelled in conceptual thinking, management, and consulting. He built a strong local identity around his team and helped ensure the survival of the renowned luxury poultry shop Chez Cocó, a symbol of his commitment to quality and authenticity.
Opening Adobo added another layer of challenge to his story. A cruel turn of fate arrived in the form of a January illness that robbed him of taste and smell, complicating a venture he had hoped would thrive. The timing could not have been more painful; it felt as if all the notes required to run a restaurant suddenly vanished. He recalls the moment plainly: the doctor’s calm advice did little to ease the fear that the opening would slip away. Still, the delays pressed on as the calendar closed in on launch day.
When the kitchen reopened, guests could glimpse the resilience behind the scenes. A photograph caption tied to the moment showed a simple plate of tomato tartare with a rich pizza sauce, a reminder that flavor remained central to the mission of Adobo. The return visit occurred exactly one year later, and Enrique described a restoration of two senses that were crucial to his craft. Yet he remained cautious, knowing that other chefs had weathered the same trial and regained their senses with time and careful rehabilitation.
Doctors advised patience, and Enrique embraced a disciplined mindset. He chose optimism as a daily practice, even when the thought of it being the last restoration of his senses crossed his mind. An ear specialist suggested scent training with small bottles, but those exercises often felt constrained, as if the contents were measured against a moving target. The effort persisted, and the sense of smell slowly began to return, followed by taste, though not without a lingering sense of fragility in the patient’s perception.
Valenti has explained that his training in suggestion helped him anchor the process. He believes the brain stores countless tastes and aromas in a robust mental archive. When a dish is imagined or tasted, the brain triggers memories that shape perception. Even as flavors return, the mind sometimes plays tricks, presenting a sweet mirage of what could be tasted rather than what is actually present. This mental training became part of the restaurant’s ongoing narrative and a testament to the resilience of the palate.
In the kitchen, the balance of flavor and technique remained paramount. The chef recognizes that aroma and texture are inseparable allies, and he draws on that insight to guide the team. There are moments when the senses mislead, yet the cooks persevere, pushing toward a consistent, flavorful experience even when perception feels uncertain. The renewed confidence in taste and aroma has become a quiet victory, a marker of progress in a space where memory and sensation intersect.
Two portraits anchored the dining room: Enrique Valentí and Gerard Trilles, the owner and the head chef, both presenting a shared commitment to craft. The relationship between the leadership and the kitchen matured into a dialogue that valued honesty and practical refinement. They learned to navigate differences in opinion, recognizing that every choice, from the marinade to the acidity level, shapes the final plate. Confidence grew with each refined decision, and the kitchen began to speak with a unified voice.
The tasting journey offered surprising discoveries. A thyme-infused tomato tartare with a hint of pizza sauce proved unexpectedly aromatic, and candied artichokes with fried elements and anchovies offered a complex contrast that delighted the senses. A touch of spice or a hint of sweetness from mango bridged flavors in ways that felt both adventurous and precise, drawing influences from places as far apart as Mexico and Japan.
Even in moments of doubt, the team found ways to push forward. A difficult period where some dishes felt misidentified or misread by guests led to a re-evaluation, a reminder that taste is a moving target and interpretation can shift with time and experience. The path through uncertainty was not easy, but the resolve to keep improving remained a constant thread through the year that followed the restaurant’s rebirth.
With the personal challenge behind him, the owner spoke about the road ahead with candor. The journey was never just about food; it was about rebuilding trust in the body and the palate while staying true to a culinary vision. The decision to open Adobo again after such trials became a symbol of endurance and a statement about the power of perseverance in the face of hardship. The personal and professional narrative intertwined, reflecting how the appetite for growth can endure even when the senses falter, and how a chef’s craft persists through trials that test both body and mind. The story stands as a testament to resilience, flavor, and the enduring belief that great food can endure, adapt, and inspire. [Citation: Culinary interviews and restaurant journals]