Felt obliged to write something about what was nearly a religious experience this summer up on the basque coast near Sebastian: Elkano in Getaria.

On the night we didn’t even have any sherry, preferring to stick to more local brews, but they had a superb list – including the De la Riva blanco macharnudo and many others, so sherry lovers should feel no qualms about going. And indeed even if they didn’t and whatever qualms you may have you should go anyway.

You may have heard or read about Elkano and its famous rodaballo (turbot), grilled on the coals outside the restaurant. You may even, given the appearance recently of ever fancier grill restaurants all over Spain and further afield, have had other exceptional rodaballos or similar fishes that have been mentioned in the same breath. In my case I had even been to Cataria, Elkano’s sister restaurant down in Cadiz, where I had had the best fish that I had ever been served in my life.

But even then I honestly never imagined how absolutely superb this meal was going to turn out to be. Everything was good – the lobster cooked two ways, the hake cheeks three, and the other little fish that came and went – but the turbot was just out of this world. What was staggering was not simply how rich, how juicy, and how perfectly white and fluffy/flakey the fish was, but the sheer range of flavours and consistencies, all of them expertly pointed out by the resident genius Aitor Arregi.

I can still remember how the guys down in Cataria were full of life, literally bouncing around in their excitement as they explained the fish to us. By comparison, Aitor was a man of few words but maximum information. A priest in the temple of the turbot rather than a ringmaster, no frills added and none needed.

Really exceptional and one of those very rare meals you will remember for your whole life. Turbots never tasted that like before and may never do so again.