Cinc Sentits in Barcelona
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Five years ago, I joined a fantasy football league with some friends AKA people I haven’t robbed yet. I told my wife that if I won, we’d spend the winnings on one awesome meal in Paris. After a delay from COVID, we finally got to take our trip in 2022, and my wife, mother, and I went to Alleno in Paris for the most incredible meal of our lives.
Well, guess what, jerkos? Gregg won again this year thanks to pure grit and talent, which means we got to eat another fancy meal. This time there was no Mom, so after carefully reviewing the Michelin guide, Eriko and I selected an intimate and creative restaurant in Barcelona that gave us another unforgettable night.
Welcome to Cinc Sentits
Cinc Sentits is the brainchild of Chef Jordi Artal, and has been a Barcelona institution for over 20 years (I think). Recipient of two Michelin stars, the restaurant "focuses on modern interpretations of Catalan cuisine" and offers "a seasonally changing tasting menu with no principal ingredient repeated twice."
The restaurant sits on an unassuming block (I detest assuming blocks) in Eixample, just outside the touristy part of Barcelona. We chose to book our table for 8pm on Good Friday, not realizing that right outside our hotel there would be a scary parade of people in what to us looked like a cross between Klan hoods and Eyes Wide Shut garb. As such, we couldn’t make the train, so we walked there from Hotel Bagues.
The walk didn’t take us long, meaning we arrived about a half-hour early. Because the restaurant is an intimate space and the experience is set to precise timing, we upset their schedule a bit. Nonetheless, they ushered us right in with no complaints.
The experiential theme of Cinc Sentits
The restaurant actually has a couple different themes to its cuisine, but the first you’re presented with is the idea of the five senses: you’re led to a room where you stand next to a stump as nature sounds (such as chirping birds) play during your introductory course.
The hostess explained that this was an intro to the idea of something something and the room was designed to look like a Plinko board for reasons and then she brought some food. Folks who drink alcohol are given a welcome drink at this point, but for me it was water and Eriko her first kombucha, which she said was good.
There were three introductory dishes on the tray: an olive, an anchovy in a smoked paprika tube, and a tiny chicken tart made with ingredients that the chef’s grandfather would have taken with him for lunch while working in the fields. These are the other themes of the restaurant: the chef’s background and the ingredients of Catalonia.
The olive was not an olive. It was a shell that exploded with juicy flavor like a whole bag of Gushers eaten at once. I don’t like olives, but I liked this. The smoked paprika tube smelled like smoke, but tasted like spicy candy. The chicken tartlet was the best of all, full of flavors that worked together to create an incredible bite.
After that, the hostess led us to the next room, where she showed off their techniques for making kimchi, vinegar, and shio koji, which you probably haven’t heard of unless you’re a chef or Japanese person. Eriko showed off how she knew all about this stuff like the suck-up she is and I pretended like I remembered what it was even though I didn’t but still got a good grade on the test because I’m cute. After that, it was time to sit.
The Cinc Sentits dining room, menu, and drinks
Cinc Sentits has a large staff that works in tandem to deliver the experience - we didn’t have one server, we had ALL the servers, who came and went in perfect synchronisticism (real word). A guy came over and showed us the menu - well, that’s not entirely accurate. He placed down a lamp that showed us the two options: a tasting menu and a “light menu.” The tasting menu was 200 Euro, the light menu 185. We were prepared to stuff our faces, so we went with the tasting menu. The lamp also had some words on it that described what was in store, and if we spun the lamp, we could read them, but there was no actual information provided.
If you’re a wine person, you can get wine pairings with the tasting menu like the fancy boys in the corner did. But we don’t swing that way, so we tried their non-alcoholic drinks. Eriko got white grape juice that was sweet and delicious, and I tried lemonade with olive oil. I’d never had that combination before. Unfortunately, outside of America, all lemonade is sparkling, so it was a fizzy drink, but the combo of lemon and olive was worth trying.
As with every restaurant in Europe, they also gave us a choice of sparkling or still water. Next to our table, sort of hidden in the wall, was a set of shelves. Eriko could put her purse on the lowest shelf so it wouldn’t be in the way at her feet. The other shelves held the bottles of water for the tables in our corner, and the server I assume was lowest on the totem pole would periodically come over, grab the bottle, and top us off.
The space was much smaller and more intimate than I imagined. There’s a forbidden zone in the middle, with the tables set around it, the result being that the people on the opposite side of the restaurant are hidden from view, depending on where you’re sitting. There were only four other tables going as we began, with two more arriving after us.
The nice part about this intimacy was that we could always get the attention of the staff and felt like they were being attentive to our needs. The downside was that the restaurant was so quiet, often silent, that it felt awkward talking sometimes. You’d also think that with so few tables, we wouldn’t wait long between courses, but that wasn’t the case, possibly due to the fact that we showed up at the wrong time, or just because of perfectionism. But we never had to wait too long between courses, and had been told the experience would be at least 2.5 hours, so we were prepared for a long evening.
Trio of appetizers at Cinc Sentits
The meal began with three appetizers placed in specific positions on the table. We were to eat counter-clockwise, starting with the cracker in the lower left, which was filled with bluefin tuna and topped with caviar. The cracker was crisp and the caviar tasty, but the thing that made it sing was the flavor of the tuna.
Up next was eggplant foam with smoked paprika and tomato dust. It wasn’t super foamy, more of a creamy righteous latte texture. It was spicy and all the elements worked together to create a taste that had me scraping the bottom to get every last bit.
But those were only the setup for the last appetizer, a toasted brioche with wagyu tartare, caviar, and gold for some reason. This is one of the best bites of food I have ever tasted. The wagyu flavor came through fully; I swear, I could taste the specific cow. He and I shared a moment, and agreed to meet again in a secluded cabin in 15 years’ time to rekindle our love.
I think caviar is best when paired with something else, like the caviar and quail egg we had at Yam’tcha in Paris. When caviar is the dominant element or paired with something like crème fraîche, it’s too strong for me. But with this, the caviar, beef, and brioche were in perfect balance, working together in, yes, I’ll say it: a symphony of flavor.
“So good, I don’t want to swallow,” said Eriko.
“That’s what she said,” I said. We are mature.
The Cinc Sentits version of bread with dinner and how service works at the restaurant
Up next, we were given bread, which could be replenished at any time, but we were trying not to fill up on it too much. The bread came with homemade brown butter and olive oil straight from the indigenous peoples of rural… wherever. We cook with olive oil every day, and have had it at most meals on this Europe trip, and I can confidently tell you that every olive oil on Earth is garbage compared to this one. The flavor was so bold, it was like we suddenly realized that olive oil can have actual taste. The butter was good too.
We were also given the cutlery for our next course. Each new dish demanded new cutlery, and each time, it was different, whether a different metal, or size, or style. Eriko pointed out one as Cutipol, which she said costs like $100 for a single set (although you can get a three-piece set for only $47.90 at this link!). I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re thinking. But I do have some Cutipol cutlery priced to move.
Much like at Alleno, the service was meticulous. They brought out each new dish in pairs, confidently strolling up to our table and placing the plates down at the exact same moment, so we would experience the wonder of each dish simultaneously. But unlike Alleno, there wasn’t the stuffiness of covering stains on the tablecloth or replacing our bread rolls so we’d always have three fresh ones; we didn’t feel like we were always being watched, or that we were acting improperly for this refined exquisitery. We could just sit back and enjoy our meal in a cool atmosphere. Maybe this relaxed attitude is why Cinc Sentits only has two stars, but in many ways, it was preferable to the THIS IS A HUGE DEAL mood of our lone three-star experience.
As we received our bread, they placed a little card in front of us with a picture of an onion. This was meant to entice us to wonder what the next course would be. Between each course, a new card would be brought, and then when that course was delivered, the card would be flipped to reveal what the course was. Since Eriko couldn’t always follow what they were saying when they brought the dishes, we actually flipped the card ourselves before the next course came so I could read it to her. Nobody told us not to, which was good. We got to enjoy the meal in our own way.
Figueres Onions
Sweet and mild, these onions owe their unique flavour to the climate and geography of Empordà.
Though originally cultivated around the village of Figueres, they are now grown throughout Catalonia.
A dish inspired by my mother Rose's comforting onion soup.
- Warm cheese sphere
- Caramelized onion
- Onion consommé
- House-fermented truffle labneh
Anyone who knows me knows I am not an onioneer. I ask for “no onions” on everything. But I knew I’d be a fool if I didn’t try this soup, and it was… incredible. The broth was delicious and flavorful, and I ate every bite. The caramelized onions were good, but really just an addition to the broth. The big ol’ onion was a bit much for me, not quite as sweet as an Awaji onion, but probably something you’d like if you like onions.
The cheese sphere was made right in front of us: the server had the balls and one of those little foam-pumping deals and injected the cheese tableside. I didn’t know what labneh was, and I’m not sure I do now, but I think it was that little thing on top.
All those elements were fine, but it was the broth that wowed me. I’ve never liked onion soup, but I liked this. That’s going to be a theme going forward, my eating things that I don’t like and finding out I like them the way this kitchen does it. The chef showed a lot of respect and thought in transposing his mother’s recipe to his style of cooking.
Baby Peas
Grown in the fertile coastal area of the Maresme just north of Barcelona, these peas are prized for their sweetness, delicate skin, and vibrant colour. Hand-harvested at peak ripeness, they are a prestigious ingredient in Catalan gastronomy.
Originally eaten dried only, fresh peas became a luxury in the 17th century.
- Pea essence
- White wine spheres
- Cured pork loin
- Wild garlic leaves
Look at how gorgeous that is. Wow.
Once again, the focus is on a local ingredient. That’s part of what made this experience so fun: I felt like I was learning something not just about the chef, but about the region. I walked away feeling I understood Catalan cuisine much better than if I had just eaten churros and tomato bread the entire time I was there.
The pea is definitely the star here. While the spheres and the little bit of pork add to the dish, they are tiny. The peas are fresh and, according to the server, only lightly cooked so that they are still mostly raw and have a real snap to them. The “pea essence” is the broth that goes over the top. I like peas, and I liked this.
Eriko said this was her favorite dish of the night, aside from the standing experience at the beginning. She was entranced by the bowl it was served in, an item that seems completely useless unless you’re running a Michelin-starred restaurant.
Fricandò
A modern take on a medieval Catalan classic dish, something my mother would prepare as winter came to an end.
My version is both humble and luxurious, with slow-braised oxtail and black truffle.
- 24-hour braised oxtail
- St. George's mushroom cracker
- Cheese gnocchi
- Shaved black truffle
- Herbed butter
I really didn’t like the way the cow on the card was looking at me, like he was saying, “Heeeeey! Why you gotta eat my taaaaaaail!”
Sometimes chefs get carried away with ingredients like black truffles and wild mushrooms, putting them on everything, which is a problem for me because those foods do nothing for me. At first glance, this one was going to be yet another overwhelming umami jamboree, but it was anything but.
The cracker and truffle on top were light, and the white potato cream underneath was subtle, the perfect contrast to the braising liquid below, which was strong and rich and soulful. The oxtail was soft and educated, a beast that had lived some life and was working on its memoirs in pensive solitude. This wasn’t a big dish, but we didn’t need much of it because of how powerful it was. Could eat this thing every day of my life and be happy, and it wasn’t even my favorite of the night.
Salt Cod
Salt cod has been a pillar of Catalan cuisine since the 16th century, when Spanish fishermen discovered vast shoals in the North Atlantic.
Easily preserved and transported, it became deeply ingrained into Catalan cooking and remains an essential ingredient in the region's culinary tradition.
- Artichoke purée
- Hazelnut oil
- Grilled Hen-of-the-Woods
Salt cod doesn’t come from Catalonia, but is/was eaten a lot in the region, the server explained, before also explaining that we would be receiving a reduction made from the bones of the fish. The reduction was poured on our plates at the table, and the container placed before us so we could add more as we wished. I tasted the reduction first, and it was quite strong and fishy. That was my mistake. These dishes should be eaten with everything together so you can appreciate how well the elements integrate and play off each other.
This dish was so beautiful, I almost didn’t want to touch it. To be honest, I don’t remember tasting the artichoke or hazelnut, but I absolutely tasted the mushrooms and fish and reduction, which all worked together in Bee Gees-like harmony. The fish was so soft, it fell apart at the slightest touch, and wasn’t over-seasoned or unnecessarily played with, the flavor carefully brought out in a way that let the flaky flesh stand out. The reduction didn’t seem too strong after I combined it with the fish, and in fact I added more because I enjoyed the taste more as I continued to eat.
Usually, it’s around this time that I get to finish Eriko’s food after conquering mine, but she held her own this night. Maybe it was the ten days of champing our way through Europe that did it, but she was finishing every plate just like I was. This annoyed me because I wanted more.
Duck
Our contemporary take on a classic Catalan dish from the Middle Ages, when the combination of meat and fruit was common on noble tables.
We age the duck breast with shio koji for 24 hours to enhance its tenderness and flavor, and we use pectinate to transform the texture of the pear without cooking it.
- Favas with tarragon vinaigrette
- Marinated fermented pear
- Sauce from the roasted wings and acorn liqueur
- Foie gras and chocolate terrine 85%
See, now the duck is giving us a look like, “I know what you’re thinking of doing, and you’d better watch it, buddy. I’ve got a corkscrew penis and I’m not afraid to use it.”
Before this dish, which was called the “main course” of the night, they wheeled out some shio koji to show how the duck is marinated in it to make the meat more tender. Apparently, it would take three weeks of dry aging to equal the effect of only one day with the shio, which is pretty cool.
They also showed a series of pears to demonstrate how the pectinate can break down the sugars and make a pear more likely to disrobe in front of a gentleman. But since one of the byproducts of that process is alcohol and we don’t drink alcohol, our pear sliver was not made by this process, but was instead “infused,” whatever that means.
The duck breast was tender delicious, and made even better by the rich sauce that was once again left on the table for us to douse everything to our hearts’ content. I didn’t really taste the chocolate in the terrine, but Eriko said she did, and it went great with the foie gras. I just tasted FG, which isn’t a bad thing by any stretch.
This duck proves that a fancy meal doesn’t need to culminate in a big hunk of steak or some other red meat. The duck was beautiful, satisfying, and tied the meal together wonderfully. And afterward, a big Scrat from Ice Age was set on our table.
“Scrat has finally got the acorn,” said the guy with only a hint of humiliation that he is forced to utter this several times a night. Scrat offered us each an acorn made with all the elements of the dish we’d just eaten. We ate it and… yeah. Somehow every little part of that duck dish had been distilled within that acorn. It tasted like duck and sauce and foie gras and chocolate and beans and pear, all in a single bite. Amazing.
A brief interlude
That was the end of the savory portion of the menu. While most restaurants simply offer a dessert, Cinc Sentits offers several sweet courses, starting with the Cinc Sentits Shot:
Inspired by my roots - my family's Catalan heritage and my childhood in Canada.
The only creation we have served since the first day we opened, 20 years ago.
- Warm maple syrup
- Chilled cream
- Sea salt
- Cava sabayon
At first, I was worried about the cava, until I looked it up and apparently sabayon is a dessert where alcohol is burned off. They explained that to drink the shot, we should tip it back quickly and then wait until the syrup and salt slowly made their way into our mouths. It was good: sweet, salty, tasty. But not the most memorable thing we had that night. I can see why they include it, since it connects parts of the chef’s past, but I was too busy worrying I was about to get a mouth full of alcohol (like when I tried a baba in Italy) to enjoy it.
After that, Eriko went to the bathroom. When we went to three-star Alleno in France, every time someone got up to go to the bathroom, their napkin was taken away. When they returned, a fresh one was placed on their lap. Cinc Sentits doesn’t quite go this far. Instead, while the person is in the bathroom, their napkin is folded and placed on the table in front of their seat. But the way they do it is tragic and stupefying.
The guy who normally refilled the waters walked over with two forks and two spoons, one fork and one spoon in each hand. He used these fork-and-spoon pairs like chopsticks to pick up the napkin and, with much difficulty, tried to fold it like Edward Scissorhands. It took him a really long time. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to look at him or my phone. It took a long time.
This seemed like a thing they forced the new guy to do as a form of hazing. When Eriko went to the bathroom again later, he had to do it again, and again, it took a long time.
It’s time now for me to talk about the fancy boys in the corner. The table next to ours was empty for most of the meal; beyond that, there was a table in the corner that arrived just before us. It featured two men who were doing the same tasting menu as we did, but with wine pairings. One was an Asian man who, as he got drunker, stared at me more and more. The other was a fancy boy in a scarf who was like a parody of a restaurant critic.
At one point, I heard him say something like, “It seems like they’re trying to do a play on sweet and savory, but I don’t really think it works.” Another time, I looked over and saw him telling the sommelier about a wine vintage he felt this professional ought to know about. He did not smile the entire meal.
So there I am, sitting in silence as I wait for my wife to return from the lavatory. And I hear him say:
“Well, Superbad was the big one…”
I knew what this was.
Ah, I thought. They’re talking about me. They think I’m Seth Rogen.
This isn’t the first time such a thing has happened. I used to get it all the time when I lived in Los Angeles. I told Eriko when she got back, and she really wanted to know whether they thought I was Seth Rogen or merely looked like Seth Rogen. What fun.
I recognize there are worse things in the world than looking like a movie star. But understand that back in 2012, I was told I looked like I was related to Jean-Claude Van Damme while sitting next to JCVD. Two years later, and a car full of teenage girls screeched to a halt on Hollywood Boulevard and screamed “OH MY GOD IT’S SETH ROGEN!”
What happened in between? Europe happened. Three days eating fries and waffles in Brussels, and you’ll never be thin again. Beware.
What I’m saying is committing to a diet and fitness regimen is important. But this was a food night in the middle of a food vacation, so getting back in JCVD-relative-mistaken-identity shape would have to wait.
Fennel
With a history in both Catalan cuisine and traditional medicine, fennel has long been valued for its digestive properties.
Here, we use it in an unexpected way, transforming it into a refreshing dessert that not only surprises but also provides a smooth transition from savoury dishes to sweet.
- Aerated fennel ganache
- Chilled fennel and citrus soup
- Frozen wood sorrel powder
- Crispy lemon sugar
Another dish, another exquisite and stunning work of art. I didn’t have much of an opinion on fennel before that night, and I don’t have an opinion on it now, but the magicians at Cinc Sentits managed to turn it into one of the most delicious plates of food I’ve ever had. The sweet ganache, tart soup, cold shaved ice, and crispy snowflake: each element delicious in a way I’d never tasted before, coming together to tell a story about what these tiny bits of life growing on the hillsides of our world can become when paired with unleashed creativity.
This was my favorite dish of the night after the wagyu-caviar brioche. One of the best desserts I’ve ever eaten. It was amazing. After this meal, we didn’t order a single dessert for the next week of our trip, and you know why? Well, partly because we were too full of pasta to fit any dessert down our pie-holes, but also because there would be no point. This is the dessert. Bow down before it.
Truffle
The melanosporum truffle is an emblematic ingredient from the Osuna region, in central Catalonia, home to a long truffle-hunting tradition.
In this dish, the combination of truffle and bitter almond creates a unique harmony, where the truffle's rich, earthy umami flavour is balanced by the almond's subtle bitterness.
- Black truffle toffee
- Bitter almond ice cream
- House-made almond praline
- Parsnip cream
Once again, we had a dish that worried me based on the description. It even looked like it had too much truffle. But everything worked together so perfectly that it was like the ultimate ice cream sandwich. Burned almonds, caramel, ice cream - all things you like, but because of the truffle, it tasted like nothing I’d ever had before.
You see the theme coming back. Things I normally don't like: olives, onions, mushrooms, caviar, black truffle. And yet, I liked them here. That's a testament to the sourcing of the ingredients and the skill of the preparation. Flawless.
Last Temptations
Thank you for your visit. We hope you enjoyed the experience!
To finish, a few last bites of our versions of two classic Catalan desserts.
- Sara "cake" with toasted marcona almonds
- Bread, chocolate, olive oil, and salt
This is where Eriko reached her limit. She ate the almond cake, but couldn’t summit the chocolate one, so I got two chocolate cakes yay. She complained about not feeling good the rest of the night, and I offered no sympathy. She knew what she was getting into. These are the risks you run when you write food blogs.
These bites were fine, but unnecessary. We’d already had an incredible experience, and didn’t need any more. But there was more!
Parting gifts
A berenar!
That's how my grandmother Sofia would call us from the balcony when it was time for our after-school snack: "Cola Cao" hot chocolate with "María" cookies to dunk.
Open the tube and squeeze all the contents into your mouth at once to enjoy our reinterpretation of my childhood snack.
Before we departed, we were gifted a booklet explaining more about the restaurant and the foods we ate (I also took the cards home so I could write this post) and a couple tubes of cookie. They said we could save it for breakfast or eat it that night, but that it must be consumed in 24 hours. I ate mine that night, while Eriko waited and forgot to eat hers so she never got to try it. The tube tasted like cookie dough, which is always delicious. We left stuffed and happy after a night we would never forget.
Verdict: should you visit Cinc Sentits when in Barcelona?
Going to a super-fancy restaurant on vacation isn’t always the best move. High-end food tastes great, but it’s the same wherever you go: steak and caviar and truffles and little foams and emulsions and all that stuff can bring delight, but don’t bring a sense of place. That’s why we generally avoid eating high-end while on the road; I’m sure Italy has some fine steakhouses, but I’d rather buy some salami, prosciutto, provolone, and focaccia and make sandwiches in a hotel room with my wife because that’s what reminds us of Italy.
Cinc Sentits is different. It showed us the historical ingredients of Catalonia and how they can be employed to inform and celebrate. The “five senses” schtick may no longer be necessary for the restaurant, but the themes of interpolating classic Catalan cuisine and mining the chef’s past to show how he learned his love of food, and how his personality changes the dishes he brings from his heritage, create a remarkable and singular experience.
We’ve now been to restaurants with between one and three Michelin stars, as well as some on the Bib Gourmand list. Two-star Cinc Sentits was definitely better and fancier than Yam’tcha and Le Sputnik, two restaurants that were really good, but didn’t offer a cohesive experience that rose above the sum of its parts. Alleno, on the other hand, has more stars than Cinc Sentits, and I think I understand why.
Alleno has a long tasting menu just like Cinc Sentits, but its tasting menu is all about refinement and luxury, taking the diner and bringing them toward the chef. That’s why they cover up all your spots on the tablecloth, replace your bread obsessively, and generally rush around like someone’s going to kill them if they make a single wrong move. The experience is not for you - it’s beyond you, and you cannot change it. You’re just there to marvel at it.
Cinc Sentits, on the other hand, is a relaxed experience. We never felt out of place there. Instead of wowing us with fancy things we couldn’t comprehend, the staff came down to where we were and explained everything to help us appreciate it. We could chill and enjoy a nice romantic evening. Contrast that with Alleno, which had absolutely no chill. The extra level of Alleno may be worth an extra star, but I think most people would feel more comfortable at Cinc Sentits.
As for how we saw it, I can’t say Cinc Sentits had any dishes that rose to the level of the garden or wagyu millefeuille at Alleno, but the batting average overall was higher. While there were a couple things at Alleno I was more iffy on, Cinc Sentits didn’t bring a single plate that I didn’t happily devour. We enjoyed everything they brought. This restaurant may not be what Michelin reviewers look for, but if you’ve never been to a high-end restaurant before, this is the one I’d absolutely start with. I would recommend this place to anyone.
The final bill came to 429.50 Euro. The tasting menu (not counting the drinks) was 200 Euro per person, about half that of Alleno, meaning you could eat here twice for the price of a single evening there. After adding a tip (which stresses me out because we don’t tip in Japan please restaurants stop doing this) and factoring the exchange rate that day, I ended up paying $514.61. To me, that’s cheap for what we got. If you get a chance to go to Cinc Sentits, take it. If we’re ever in Barcelona again, and we can afford to eat at this restaurant again, we’ll absolutely be there.
Where is Cinc Sentits in Barcelona?
Address: Carrer d'Entença, 60, L'Eixample, 08015 Barcelona, Spain
Phone: +34 933 23 94 90
Hours: 7pm-10pm Tues-Fri; open for lunch and dinner Sat.
Email: info@cincsentits.com
In addition to the regular dining room, Cinc Sentits also offers private rooms and a Chef’s Table experience. The dining room experience lasts 2.5 hours, and the restaurant is willing to accommodate some dietary restrictions (we asked for no asparagus and no alcohol, and they were cool about it). Tables can only be booked a month in advance, so pay attention to the calendar as your trip approaches!
One final thing
As anyone who plays the game can tell you, fantasy football is a combination of a tiny amount of skill and a large amount of luck. In my case, I was able to reach the league finals because of a little skill (I picked up Isaac Guerendo!), but the reason I won the final was 100% luck. Going into the last game of the week, I was way behind, and in a just world, I would have lost. But we don’t live in a just world.
You see, that week, the Detroit Lions were playing the 49ers in a meaningless game. The Lions already had a playoff spot, and their division would come down to the next week’s game vs. the Vikings. Since they had nothing to gain by winning, most coaches would have rested key players. But not Dan Campbell. He’s such a competitive monster that he not only played his starters, but kept them in the entire game, allowing the Jared Goff/Amon-Ra St. Brown combo to score enough points to allow me to win and pay for a visit to Cinc Sentits. I owe you, DC.
As is tradition, I gave a little money to the charities of the players who brought me my fantasy victory. Mr. Campbell does not appear to have a charity, but Jared Goff has JG 16, which works to help Detroit kids learn business skills and save for college. I also gave to Operation Freedom Paws based on George Kittle’s recommendation, and Derrick Henry’s Two All Foundation. I hope you’ll check them out and consider giving too.
To my fantasy players and opponents, thanks for the great dinner. Eriko likes you.
