He is now retired and suffering from mobility ailments, but pretty much every day Txomin Rekondo walks down the stairs that connect his house with the restaurant that he opened in the family farmhouse in 1964. He likes to greet his customers and, as he says, "just mess about a little bit".
Tact, patience and modesty are three words that accurately sum the character of this veteran restaurant owner from San Sebastian who, at a time when virtually no one else in Spain was doing so, invested in the creation of a cellar that over the years has become one of the most important in the world.
In this interview, Txomin Rekondo looks back over his life, from the time of his birth 87 years ago in the San Sebastian district of Igeldo, where the Rekondo restaurant is located, to the present day.
You were born in this farmhouse in 1934, a good vintage in Rioja and Bordeaux. What was life like in those days?
After the war, when I was a young boy, life was calmer, without today's urgencies; it was a simple everyday life, one did what one had to do and that was that.
My grandparents and my parents were farmers and had livestock and a vegetable garden, but there was no restaurant. They made cider in a kupela (cider barrel) that used to be in a shed, in what is now the car park, but only for domestic consumption, and we ate was was produced in the farm. When I was young I don't remember ever seeing a bottle of wine here.
Didn't people drink txakoli either?
Yes, but back then it was considered different from wine. Not that it was inferior, but for us it was somewhere between cider and red wine. It was just a home drink.
One of your hobbies since your childhood is bullfighting. In fact, you were nicknamed "el meteoro donostiarra" (the meteor from San Sebastian). Did you ever stand face to face with a bull?
My brother José María was the only bullfighter in San Sebastián and he instilled in me the love of bullfighting. He used to train in the courtyard, in what is now the restaurant's terrace. I was 13 when I first stood on the Chofre bullring in San Sebastián, which no longer exists. I did fight many young bulls over the years, but I was never a matador. One day my brother said to me, 'Look, Txomin, this is a tough profession. I see you have the skills but you lack the drive and desire to make the necessary sacrifices'. I came to my senses and gave it up.
And were you able to go to college?
I only finished secondary school. Afterwards I had to work, delivering milk to people's homes in San Sebastián and the surrounding area. We had as many as 20 oxen and cows. When I got my driving licence at 18, I became a lorry driver. It meant long journeys —it took 10-12 hours to drive to Barcelona— but it was a life I enjoyed, because I got to travel all over Spain and I met lots of people.
And how did the restaurant come about?
As I was the youngest of the brothers, I had to stay in the farmhouse with my sisters. I was in my twenties then and I didn't particularly like that kind of life, but as my father was getting older, I took over the farmhouse, which was the only building from Ondarreta, on the beach, to mount Igeldo.
It was my sisters' idea to open a bar. The Lourdes Txiki shrine nearby attracted a lot of people, either on foot or by bus, who stopped here and ordered a bottle of cider. There were some stone tables in the farmhouse and that's how we started in 1964 —incidentally, another great vintage. Over the years, we have made renovations and enlarged the space. Around 1970, we built the car park at the back of the house and the wine cellar was installed underneath.
Rekondo has always been a family restaurant. Your wife also worked with you here.
Yes, my wife, Carmen Azpeteguía, was a very hard worker. During the first eight or ten years of the restaurant, there wasn't a single day off and she never complained. She was a very important pillar for me until she passed away in 1997. She understood my love of wine and never once told me that I was crazy or that I was going to go bankrupt.
She was only angry —and rightly so— the year we went on holiday to Galicia. Two days before returning home, she told me that she wanted to stop at a linen and towel shop in Portugal. Unfortunately for her, there was a wine merchant nearby. I, of course, went inside and got busy buying port so by the time we went to get the sheets, the shop had closed. I was scolded, but later that evening, over dinner with a bottle of albariño, she forgot all about it. My wife was very tolerant of me. She was the best thing I ever had.
How did you become interested in wine?
A friend of one of my brothers was a Rioja wine merchant and he was the first person to guide me, because I didn't drink wine until I was in my early twenties. Manolo Muga, who was a great person, also helped me greatly. He lived nearby in San Sebastián, and being a great bullfighting aficionado, he used to come to the bullfighting club that we held in the bar until 1973. Manolo introduced me to Rioja through his bodega and it was there that my wine adventures began. Later on, we became bullfighting entrepreneurs for many years while we each worked in our own businesses.
Did you organise bullfight corridas in San Sebastian?
No, in Haro and Tolosa. We didn't make any money, but we didn't lose any either and it was great fun. Thanks to Manolo I met and made friends with bodegas such as López de Heredia, La Rioja Alta or Remelluri, whom I already knew because they are from Irún, just a few miles ago. They all made my life much easier and I continue to buy wines from them.
What else did you buy?
Mostly Rioja, and Vega Sicilia from the 70s onwards. Ribera del Duero was virtually unknown. Then I started buying Bordeaux wines at Maison Eguiazabal, a shop in Hendaye that is still in business today and where I am a client. I still have bottles that I bought from the grandfather of the current owner.
And where did you purchase your wine?
Generally direct from the bodegas. I still have bottles of López de Heredia from the 1960s that used to be sealed, a fairly common thing in Rioja until the sommeliers in the fine restaurants in Madrid complained because the bits fell all over the table when you opened them and it didn't look good. Later on I started to buy from merchants, but every now and then I'd buy Vega Sicilias in the town of Béjar, on my way to Andalusia. I always had a look around at every road restaurant we stopped at to see if there was anything of interest.
You really started the cellar from scratch.
Yes, it was born with me. Back then I didn't buy old wines, but I was soon tipped off about bottles that were for sale in private homes, and I bought them. Now it's commonplace, but not in those days; people didn't sell their bottles of wine. I was also very well advised by the Muga family and I played it safe.
Have you ever bought wine at auctions?
No, except for a bottle of 1929 Franco-Españolas for which I paid 100,000 pesetas (€600) some 40 years ago. The bottle itself was of no great interest but it was for charity. People told me I was crazy to pay so much money but it was actually the cheapest bottle I ever bought because it was published everywhere. I did sell some bottles at auction in London, and they paid me very well, but I was sorry to see them go.
Is the Franco-Españolas bottle still in the cellar?
Yes, it's down there with other old Paternina bottles and they are in very good condition. As long as I am around, those bottles are not going anywhere.
How do you set the price of old wines at Rekondo?
It depends on availability. Some of them are very expensive, because they are almost impossible to find, but if there were many bottles of these wines, I would sell them at half the price. Then there are bottles that I never get rid of and when there is only one left, I put it aside for a special occasion. Or maybe I give it as a gift to a good customer. That gives me a feeling of satisfaction.
The number of bottles you have in the cellar is staggering. Some 100,000 bottles, isn't it?
I know there are a lot of them but I don't know exactly how many. I haven't got a clue and I don't really care. I don't have money, but I do have bottles of wine, which is what I like. Money is important and necessary, but only up to a certain point. If I had been allowed, I would have expanded the cellar. My main concern is to make sure that empty shelves are always restocked.
And do you have insurance? Especially after the major wine heist in restaurant Atrio last year.
We have insurance for the restaurant, but in a cellar like ours we would need to insure almost bottle by bottle, and that's not feasible.
Have you ever refused to sell a special bottle?
I've been offered a lot of money for some bottles, but I have refused several times. I once had an unpleasant experience with some Russians, who don't come around much these days. They called me at seven in the evening; they wanted to drink a bottle of Pétrus before having dinner at Akelarre. Four people arrived, I opened the bottle for them and they downed it in 10 minutes, as if it were soda. I was terribly upset. That is the kind of bottle and occasion that is meant to be remembered. I have etched in my memory the glasses of great wines I've enjoyed.
Has the Rekondo clientele changed much over the years?
In addition to the locals, we used to have a lot of people from Madrid, Zaragoza and Catalonia in the summer. Now, with travelling made easier, our clients come from all over the world, but the French have been coming here since we opened, because the border is very close. I actually used to sell more Bordeaux wine to the French than to the Spaniards because taxes are higher in France and probably also because I was happy to charge less. Now, most of my French clients ask for Spanish wines.
How do you see Spanish wine at present?
The quality is good and I think the perception from abroad is also good. I like this new wave of small producers who are doing things really well, recovering old varieties and striving for quality.
Will the current wines age like the old ones you have in the cellar?
I don't know. It depends on the quality of the wine, the ageing process in the winery and the condition of the wine afterwards; if they have been stored inadequately, they won't last many years. I do find that Bordeaux wines are lighter and I think their lifespan will be shorter. In the past, you had to wait at least four or five years to open them because they were very raw and powerful; now they've been standardised a bit and they can be drunk sooner. One thing is certain: prices have skyrocketed, both for Bordeaux and Burgundy, and the allocations I had 20 years ago have now been halved. It is virtually impossible to become a Burgundy aficionado unless you are a millionaire.
Is there a wine you've been wanting to buy but have never been able to?
I'd like to have the wines of Kenjiro Kagami, from the Jura. A supplier in Burgundy has promised me some but so far the promise has not materialised. I hope it won't take too long because I don't have many years left to try it.
What is a great wine for you?
The one that gives you unexpected satisfaction. When you have high expectations for a wine, you will enjoy it very much but there won't be any big surprises. There are bottles, even simple ones, that may be far more gratifying than a very expensive and more renowned wine.
Are there any in particular?
There have been a few, but I remember serving a 1985 Viña Real Crianza blind and many people thought it was a Burgundy. One Saturday evening we had Dirk Nieeport here for dinner. He is a fantastic man, and he brought with him some very good Burgundy wines in his car. We were having such a great time that we sat at the table until three o'clock in the morning. He would pull out a bottle and I would pull out another one. And he said, 'Txomin, please open a wine to surprise us'. I chose a bottle of that Viña Real and he didn't believe it could be a €20-25 wine.
We have some old vintages in the cellar that I want to release and I offer them at very affordable prices. Sometimes a humble wine gives you much more than a great one, although it is also very important who you share the wine with. I have drunk many good wines throughout my life, but the ones I remember most are those enjoyed on special moments.
Do you put aside the wines with more ageing capacity?
That's right. For example, I haven't sold a single bottle of Las Beatas 2015 yet. I know it will be excellent right now but I prefer to wait a bit longer to see how it evolves.
But you will surely be pressured to open these bottles.
Oh, yes, but I just say it's not for sale. I tasted the 2011 with Telmo before it was released. That was the last time I visited the winery; I don't travel much now, although I've visited Rioja regularly.
Which wine regions are you most fond of?
Apart from Rioja, I've been to the Rhône quite a few times, but I also like Jura. I love Burgundy, not only for the wine, but also for the warmth and generosity of its people. I haven't been to Italy yet but I would like to visit Tuscany. Not just for the wine, but also for the scenery, the food and the things you see in the movies.
Are prizes important for business?
Maybe not as time goes by, but the moment you get them it's nice and it means exposure. But I am not much of an award person myself, although I was very excited about the Gueridón de Oro because it was presented to me in San Sebastián and La Revue du Vin de France award in 2016. That day Aubert de Villaine, a very charming man, was also given an award.
He must have visited Rekondo.
We've welcomed many producers from Burgundy but not Mr de Villaine. I visited Domaine de la Romanée Conti and a nephew of his looked after us. The glass they offered us for tasting was really surprising -one of those small, old-fashioned ones, with thick glass. I'm not saying they ought to have Riedel or Zalto, but I was expecting something more refined. The nephew asked us to return any leftovers to the barrel and I thought, I'm only going to be here once so I think I'll drink it. In the end the nephew drank the wine too.
When The Wine Spectator named you among the best wine restaurants in the world in 2011, a lot of foreign customers flocked to the restaurant.
Yes, we had many Americans coming and they were surprised because they thought the wine was very cheap. The Wine Spectator's was a genuine award. An American man came one day for lunch and he spent a long time looking at the wine list. He returned again that same day for dinner and identified himself. He had a list of about 10 wines and asked me to bring them up to see if I really had them in the cellar as well as on the list, and sure enough they were all there. He dined here for a week and always on his own; we served him old vintages and he left very happy.
There has never been a pairing menu at Rekondo. Why?
I feel that it's an imposition on the customer. We prefer to recommend wines to anyone who requests it. I admit that wine pairing makes the restaurant's work easier and probably means higher margins, but it's not something we are fond of at Rekondo.
You possess a great deal of knowledge about wine after so many years in the business.
Well, some knowledge.
Is it easy to pass it on?
I'm rarely on the dining floor. My daughter is now in charge. She is not a wine lover but she has Alex Hernández, our sommelier, who is a great professional and lends her a hand in that area. My daughter Lourdes studied hotel management in Switzerland and then worked at restaurant Zalacaín in Madrid until she took over the dining room when my wife died. She likes rosé and champagne —actually, she doesn't have bad taste— but to be in charge of this cellar you need to have a passion for wine. Mind you, she is very good at her job and I know it is hard to take care of everything, but that's my main worry: the continuity of the cellar, because it is going to depend on other people.
And your other daughter, Edurne? We've seen her in the restaurant today.
She is no longer working in the restaurant although she likes wine a bit more; in fact, during the time she was employed here she went to tastings, met wine merchants and bought some wines. It would have been nice if they had both continued, but sometimes life doesn't work out the way you want it to. In any case, if Lourdes surrounds herself with people who advise her well, Rekondo will live on.
