Pesca d'Oli Fish and chips

Pesca d'Oli Fish and chips is a small place in the middle of Palma that retells a British institution in a French hand with Mallorcan ingredients — and that runs its entire menu without gluten. You have to look for the address: the house sits in a narrow private passage, the Passatge Particular Guillem de Torrella, inside the Galería Los Geranios, a few steps from the Mercat de l'Olivar. There is a person behind the name. Olivier, whom everyone calls Oli, built the place up together with his wife Julie after the French couple settled on Mallorca. That hand runs right through the wording of the menu: the small dishes come under Primera Ola, first wave, the main course is called El Filete de Oli, the dessert El Tesoro de Oli — Oli's treasure. Completely gluten-free — a decision, not an add-on For years there were alternatives here for guests with coeliac disease or gluten sensitivity, as in many houses. Then Olivier and Julie took the step that very few take: they removed gluten from the kitchen entirely. What decided it was not the trend but cross-contamination. Where wheat flour is being fried alongside, a residue of uncertainty always remains for those affected — and that is what the two wanted to abolish. They say themselves that they did not remove the gluten to follow a fashion, but to do away with a worry. The answer is corn flour. The coating that gives the fish its crust manages without wheat, and the reputation of the house hangs on it: a gluten-free fish and chips stands or falls on whether the shell still crunches. The homemade bun that turns the fillet into a burger is gluten-free too — precisely the small thing that is the first to disappear elsewhere. What Pesca d'Oli puts on the table The menu is short and follows a dramaturgy. It begins with sharing: two or three of the small dishes can be put together as a duo or a trio. The choice runs to the Gambitas de la Isla, white shrimps from Mallorca in a corn flour coating with a spicy sauce; the Tartare d'Oli of raw cod with Mallorcan radishes, sesame oil and wasabi; and the Ceviche d'Oli, raw cod again, marinated in leche de tigre with coriander, thinly sliced red onion and blue spirulina salt. The main course is ordered in two steps. First the recipe: Oli Clásico with the house corn flour coating and homemade tartare sauce; Oli Picante with corn flour and sesame and a spicy sauce; or Oli sin Oli, the version without fish, with spiced tofu. Then the size — and here it carries names instead of numbers: Kiko, Miquel, Mateu. With it come fries or salad, the fries running under the pun Pat Lafrite. As small sides there is a salad of the day and a green pea hummus; both can be added to the fillet as an extra, as can sobrassada. Children get the Mini Oli. At the end stands a single dessert, and it is called Oh My Gold: a light crème pâtissière with lemon from the island, a white chocolate cream, grated lime zest and crunchy meringues. The menu advises ordering it as soon as you arrive, because it goes quickly. Fish with provenance, produce from the island The cod carries the seal of the Marine Stewardship Council, MSC for short, which marks wild catch from sustainably managed stocks. The house explains it in a footnote on its own menu — for a fish and chips place an unusual effort, and one that says something about its priorities. Added to that are suppliers from the neighbourhood, fresh goods daily and, where it can be arranged, organic ingredients. The radishes and the white shrimps come from the island, the lemon and lime in the dessert likewise. The room is modest in size, and the house takes reservations through its own website. At that scale a table booked ahead is not a bad idea — all the more so since every plate is made fresh.