When I was a kid, we used to go camping in Spain and France every summer holiday in our Conway Tardis (a sort of weird caravan/trailer tent hybrid). My parents would let me and my sister amuse ourselves for hours in the surroundings of whichever restaurant they’d chosen to settle in while they indulged in its epicurean delights. After sating our childish palates with whatever our mum could salvage from the menu, we’d get down from the table and go and explore, getting terribly excited if there was a beach, any other kids, or a children’s play area nearby.
Our favourite restaurant in northern Spain was fondly renamed ‘Papa Smurf’s’ because it had a wonderful electric Smurf ride outside it where we spent many a happy hour (and a fair few pesetas) piggy-backing the lunging blue creature. But it wasn’t just its superior taste in children’s entertainment that set Papa Smurf’s apart – it did the most amazing omelettes. Custard yellow, perfectly salted, light and fluffy omelettes that actually managed to take my infant mind off the thrusting blue geriatric lurking outside. I was reminded of the simple eggy enjoyment of this dish again recently during dinner at El Pirata in Mayfair, which, like Papa Smurf’s, brings a bit of that infectious Spanish hospitality to London.

The restaurant is something of a legend in Mayfair – and I’d guess that this has as much to do with its front of house and bar team as it is its classic tapas, hence the fact that it’s packed when we visit. If you work in the area you’ve probably ended up there on many a night, in search of solace from the glitz, glamour and expense of Nobu et al. Walk into its unassuming entrance and you’re immediately drawn to the long bar’s spirit collection, which glistens with promise.
Paintings crowd the walls, giving the place an intimate, Vicky Christina Barcelona-type feel, and the centre of the restaurant is dominated by the black spiral staircase that leads down into a bigger restaurant space. But I’d try to get a table upstairs if you can, where you’re still within earshot of the bustling kitchen and close to the happenings of the bar. Bread and a deliciously garlicky aioli are the first things to pass our lips – the bread a pleasant vehicle for the creamy, zingy mayo. We order some of the black foot ham, which though not cheap at £18.50, comes in a generous portion of wafer thin slices strewn across a large plate, and is divine – salty yet fruity, with a melt-in-the-mouth texture.

The burned green chillies are fantastic – squishy and bitter, imparting a savoury tingle and incredibly moreish. Prawns come sizzling in olive oil with a devilish amount of chilli and garlic, and calamari is light, succulent and buttery. A generous wedge of Spanish tortilla is eggy-a-la-Papa-Smurf’s, savoury and satisfying, and perfect with the meatballs – they come steaming and topped with freshly cut parsley, swimming in a rich tomato sauce.

Octopus in lemon and paprika is a treat for the palette, soft and moreish and lovingly spiced. A dish of spinach, pine nut, parmesan and rocket salad refreshes, while griddled asparagus is dotted with crunchy salt crystals but glaringly out of season. One dish that really trumps is a medley of fried egg, crispy potato, ham and prawns, which is a perfect balance of textures and flavours. This is fresh, well-cooked Spanish food served honestly and generously, without pretensions. To wash it down is a very well-priced regional wine menu bursting with warm riojas. After all that food we can’t face dessert, which is when the waiter suggests the hazelnut liqueur – short, sweet and with a definite kick to it.

It might not have a body-popping sit-on smurf ride outside, but El Pirata is a rare find in this area – an affordable, buzzy restaurant that offers a genuinely warm welcome and delicious food and drink. It’s the sort of place you can throw your head back and laugh in, while savouring the classic flavours of Spanish tapas made simply, with quality ingredients and authentic flair. What’s not to love?

El Pirata Mayfair
5-6 Down Street
Mayfair
W1J 7AQ

Tel: 020 7491 3810

First published at The London Word