In my family’s bar in the Gràcia neighborhood of Barcelona, Sunday was the most sacred day of the week. It wasn’t just about the food; it was about the comida—a long, slow lunch that seemed to stretch into eternity. While my papá stood over the glowing coals of the grill, I was his little shadow, tasked with watching the vegetables for the Romesco.

“Ella,” he would say, “the skin must be black like coal, or the heart will never be sweet.”

He was talking about la piel quemada (the burnt skin). To make an authentic Romesco—the soul of Catalan cooking—you must not be afraid of the fire. We char the tomatoes and garlic until they look ruined, but inside, they transform into a jammy, smoky treasure. This dish, Spanish Veal Chops with Romesco, is a masterclass in Catalan style veal and remains one of my favorite Mediterranean dinner party recipes to share with those I love. It is an invitation to slow down and embrace the beautiful Spanish tradition of sobremesa (so-bre-MAY-sa)—the time we spend lingering at the table long after the last bite is gone.

The Soul of the Sauce: Authentic Romesco Sauce recipe

In Catalonia, Romesco is more than a sauce; it is a heritage. Every family has their secret. At our bar, the secret was twofold: the Marcona almond and the ñora pepper.

The ñora (NYO-rah) is a small, round, dried pepper that provides a deep, earthy base without the heat. When you scrape the rehydrated pulp from the skin, you are holding the essence of the Mediterranean. When combined with the buttery crunch of toasted Marcona almonds to create a rich Marcona almond sauce, and the smoky punch of Pimentón de la Vera (pee-men-TOHN)—a staple in many Pimentón de la Vera recipes—you create a sauce that is bold, acidic, and utterly addictive.

A Note on Texture: Please, I beg of you, do not turn your food processor on high and walk away. An authentic Romesco should have “bones.” It should be rustic and slightly grainy from the nuts and bread. In Spain, we often use a mortar and pestle to ensure we feel the texture of every ingredient.

The Secret to the Perfect Veal Chop

While the sauce is the star, the veal must be treated with respect. My papá always taught me to atemperar—to temper the meat. Never take a cold chop from the fridge and drop it into a hot pan. If the meat is cold, the muscle fibers tighten, and you lose that succulent, tender finish. Give your chops an hour on the counter to reach room temperature.

We want a proper costra (crust). By patting the meat bone-dry and using a heavy cast-iron pan (much like the technique in my Cast Iron Veal Chops with Smothered Onions), we mimic the intense heat of the Spanish wood grills or a properly grilled veal chop. When that veal hits the Romesco, the fat of the meat mingles with the vinegar and nuts in a way that is pure magic.

Serving and Sobremesa

In Spain, we never rush the end of a meal. When you serve these chops, bring the whole pan to the table or plate them simply with a side of blistered Padrón peppers or perhaps some crispy patatas. For more inspiration on serving the finest cuts, you can explore my collection of the best veal chop dishes.

Open a bottle of deep, mineral-rich red wine from the Priorat region. As the plates empty, let the conversation grow. Put down your phone, pour another splash of wine, and enjoy the sobremesa. The food is the reason we gathered, but the connection is why we stay.

Buen provecho!