Packed with families on a Saturday lunchtime, and in full swing by 3pm when we arrive (the only slot we could get – book up!), we were led to the windowless back room like Tony Soprano. It takes a while to notice that actually the whole place is windowless, as are many similar joints, cut deep into dark old buildings. The portrait gallery of ol’ time celebs distracts you. Turns out this back room has quite the history, and has often been bagged by well-known folk looking for discretion.

Please never change the old school décor of dreams – a winning formula of white tablecloths and jacketed waiters, ancient posters, tiles, mosaics, dark wood.

With flimsy Catalan at our disposal it seems contrary to resist the English menu, but the translation can, thanks to Google translate, literally be harder to read. Which reminds me of the legendary (but not here) “rape, Roman style” (spotted by @anthonyantgarner).

Service is professional, if a tad on the brusque side which, rightly or wrongly, I feel kind of fitting for those crashing another’s cultural institution. And you better know what you want to eat.

It’s all a long way from the bouncing squat-level hey guys, let me explain the menu.

In any case, we are fed efficiently and superbly, Bunyols de bacallá (salt cod fritters) are delicious fresh little clouds, perfect with a glass of house white. Followed up by Catalan classic mandonguilles amb sípia i gambas (meatballs with cuttlefish and prawns), in a rich gravy. This kind of mar i muntanya combination is typical, and rounded off with an obligatory crema catalana.

No fads here, just great quality, hearty cooking. And those bunyols remain unmatched, I’m ruined and now think twice about ordering anywhere else.

I can’t bear to imagine that these places may one day disappear. Sometimes you just need the old favourites, done really, really well. On a white tablecloth.

Ca L’Estevet, Carrer de Valldonzella, 46