It has always puzzled me why there are only two single-Michelin-starred Spanish restaurants in all of London. It has nothing to do with the limitations of the cuisine – after all, the Basque city of San Sebastián, with the equivalent population of Portsmouth, has 18 Michelin stars. Last time I looked, Portsmouth possessed a mere three Bib Gourmand establishments, none of which warrant a special journey. The Basque Country holds a special place in my culinary memory bank as, apart from the glories of Etxebarri (the ultimate barbeque cuisine on the planet) or Elkano (with the greatest grilled turbot to be found anywhere), San Sebastián has the most creative and affordable bar food in the West. It’s also the only city I know where wine is cheaper than water.

The first truly memorable contemporary Spanish restaurants in London were Fino and Barrafina – brainchildren of Eddie and Sam Hart, with Bilbao-born Nieves Barragán Mohacho in the kitchen. I liked Barrafina, though I couldn’t help thinking that the raw ingredients didn’t stand up against what was available – not just in the Basque Country, but throughout Spain. There is a dedication, a passion, plus an intensity of flavour that is hard to replicate. Happily, things have improved over the past couple of decades; Barragán went on to start Sabor in 2018, promptly gaining a Michelin star which she has kept ever since. She also successfully launched Legado earlier this year – Sabor’s informal, Shoreditch-dwelling sibling, with a heavier emphasis on Basque cuisine.

But back to Sabor, which quickly established itself as the most highly regarded Spanish restaurant in town. I wanted to see if its reputation still holds. The time it took me to gain a weekend booking in El Asador, the upstairs dining room, suggested it does: the earliest they could accommodate me was the second sitting at 2 pm. Every table was packed. The room is no-nonsense functional, with an open kitchen and simple bare tables – but the food quickly eased any doubts from my mind.

We had a quartet of starters – fried pig’s ears with quince aioli; coca, cecina and ricotta; Morcilla de Burgos with chargrilled Piquillo peppers and Txistorra; and pescaito frito. I’m not really sure what the point of pig’s ears is. They have a rubbery texture and completely lack flavour – merely acting as a repository for what was, admittedly, a superb aioli. The pescaito frito, inspired by the markets of Granada, was a mixture of succulent squid, red mullet and John Dory. The coca, cecina and ricotta was an elegant open sandwich with black Spanish figs saturated in vermouth, smothered in smoked ricotta mousse and topped with thin slivers of blond Galician beef – easily the most delicious dish so far. The final starter was simplicity itself – peppers, blood sausage and spicy finger-shaped sausages with paprika, garlic and onion. This was a perfect counterweight to the sophisticated nature of the previous dish. Each item was perfectly seasoned and straightforward.

Then the main course of suckling Segovian pig appeared – slightly alarming as the hoof of its tiny front leg, complete with thumb and fingernails, looked somewhat like a child’s hand. These thoughts quickly vanished as the waiter cut through the steaming glass-like skin simply using the edge of a dinner plate. It may have cost in the vicinity of eighty pounds, but it was effortlessly the best succulent pig I have ever tasted. The accompanying side dishes were uncomplicated – boiled potatoes with mojo verde, a green sauce of coriander, chilli and baby spinach with a canopy of Manchego cheese. After this feast, I imagined the pudding could end up being a chore however, it was anything but. Something called a ‘cuajada’, a set custard topped with truffled honey and a praline of hazelnuts and pistachios, which possessed an earthy quality despite its delicate texture. Overall, this was a perfect meal – every ingredient was imbued with its stated flavour, so that even if you closed your eyes, you would know exactly what you were eating. Sometimes, with so much emphasis on culinary cul-de-sacs, innovation and novelty, this remains the authentic ‘back-to-basics’ approach that I fully endorse – and also enjoy.