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. 

Situated right at the Eivissa Marina, I would have considered Mariner to be a tourist trap if their food wasn’t delicious. The wooden beams and bits of foliage offered a sense of privacy, shielding against the crowds, allowing us to tune them out and focus on our meal.

Amongst the twirling fans, which added more ambiance than breeze, we sipped an amuse bouche of olive oil laced gazpacho that was silky and savoury. While I’m not generally a fan of cold soups, amongst the heat and humidity of an Ibiza summer this was a great start.

Some cool appetizers are also ideal. The plate of Iberian jamon (29€) was expertly cut with an astounding uniformity of each slice. At Mariner, the leg of ham was wonderfully marbled with a melt-in-your-mouth quality that beckoned me to have one more slice.

We generally found many restaurants overly toast (some would say burn) their bread, but Mariner’s pan con tomate (3€) was airy and soft… like having the tomato spread on an English muffin. I love the freshness of the tomato and the simplicity of the bread that went well with the flavourful cured jamon.

Although the cheese in the burrata salad (16€) almost became lost amongst the plump cherry tomatoes, arugula, and dollops of avocado cream, the overall salad was creamy and delicious. Given this was rather rich, I’m happy we had thought to order side salads (6€), which helped balance out the velvety burrata and avocado combination.

Sharing the glazed milk-fed lamb shoulder (36€) is recommended as this main is huge. The meat was tender, easily breaking apart with just a fork, presenting a light lamb that wasn’t gamey. If anything, it could have been more heavily season as I found the glaze, while thick and sticky, was too lacklustre and a more savoury red wine au jus would work better, especially to help cut through the richness of the lamb.

The menu describes the protein as being served with asparagus and baby potatoes – essentially, a full and complete meal. While there were plenty of soft roasted baby potatoes, the asparagus consisted of a small spear cut in two, hardly enough to call out on the menu, let alone counteract the meatiness of the dish. In retrospect, a side salad would work perfectly as I really was yearning for something acidic and refreshing to balance the otherwise tasty lamb.

Mariner reminds me not to be too judgmental about a restaurant’s prime location – just because an establishment is in a sought-after area doesn’t mean it’s a tourist trap. There seems to be plenty of Spaniards dining at Mariner (so the clientele wasn’t touristy) and we found the dishes to be delicioso.

Time seems to fly by while dining at Casa Paco. It’s not that dining there is particularly action packed or their service is slow, if anything the restaurant exudes a calm vibe and their service is a well timed pace. Somehow, amongst the dim lighting and homey décor, hours just pass by without the constant pressure to vacate the table within a two-hour seating limit.

When I see jamon iberico on the menu, it gets ordered. The thin slices of prized Spanish cured ham are all at once sweet, smoky, and savoury. Casa Paco points out that they serve the “pata negra” ($38) variety of the ham, which indicates it’s produced with pure-bred Iberian pigs. Pedigree aside, it’s tasty and the plate contains plenty of slices to go around.

The duck ragû gnocchi ($26) showed promise with its sizeable portion – a lot heftier than my friend’s tendril of octopus – and intoxicating aroma. And while the sauce was hearty and delicious (the shredded duck tender and flavourful), the actual gnocchi was overcooked and bordered on mushy. Perhaps its because the pasta was boiled and then also cooked in the sauce. If so, the chef either needs to boil the gnocchi less or consider pan frying it to form a crust, prior to finishing it within the ragû.

A dessert is a must, and the coffee cardamom cheesecake ($15) is highly recommended. Prepared crustless, the outer edges of the sweet takes on a Basque cheesecake quality so it’s caramelized and dense. Yet, at the centre there’s a lovely coffee cardamom sauce that gives it a lovely hit of cool sweetness that’s almost like a cold molten lava cake. A unique dessert indeed.

I preferred the cheesecake to the brûléed lemon flan ($11) where the sugar was overly toasted and started emitting a bitter taste. The sugar slight slip aside, the dollop of cool cream against the slightly warm flan was a nice touch.  

It wasn’t until after the dinner that I came across a Toronto Life article about Casa Paco. What makes it particularly unique is their four owners - Rob Bragagnolo, Caroline Chinery, Tommy Conrad, Ailbhe McMahon – are also the restaurant’s only staff, giving the establishment a mom and pop feel as customers will continually encounter the same faces.

Maybe that’s why we found dining there so relaxing. We felt taken care of and loved hearing McMahon mention that several of the flora scattered throughout the restaurant was saved from a local resident who had too many at their home and forced by their landlord to dispose of them. If only I lived in Little Italy, I too would become a familiar face amongst Casa Paco.