It’s a Friday night. The temperature is finally improving, granted slowly and very temperamentally, but it is England so what can you expect. Your friends have already begun jet-setting around Europe in their summer escapades. So, what do you do? Book a dinner reservation, cross your fingers and hope it transports you to a distant, sunnier land, where, if even only for a few hours, you can pretend you too are on holiday.

So, there I was last Friday, floating out of the office on a Friday with the smuggest of looks on my face, and when asked why I was so happy, I cockily replied: “I’m going out for dinner!” Despite my colleagues’ confusion at something so simple being the reason for such delight, if you know me, even slightly, you will know that little excites me in life as much as food does. Especially new food.

The Campaner was the destination of choice, or should I say Barcelona. The latest venture from the Los Reyes Del Mango restaurant group, which I’d love to describe as a ‘humble little abode situated in Chelsea’, but to be perfectly frank, it’s not one for modesty. With its high brick arches, Cathedral like interior, utterly enormous light features – the building is very impressive. The Campaner is hidden away in the serenity of the new Chelsea Barracks and shares a square with the recently restored Grade II listed Garrison Chapel. There’s a certain feel about this one, if you know what I mean. A cool terrace wraps around the building and offers an idyllic spot to enjoy the summer months over a glass of wine or a coffee.

After much anticipation we sat down and shared a bottle of Austrian orange wine. As an orange wine virgin, I was very eager to see what a bottle of chilled Pinot Gris Traminer had to offer. Sweet, but not sickly, dry but not too crisp. I’d have to wet the whistle a bit more with orange wine to say I’m fully converted, but as far as a first attempt goes, perfectly passable. We narrowly missed the last plate of Sobrasada de Mallorca, so we opted for the Jamón de Jabugo. As you’d expect in a Spanish restaurant of this calibre, it did not disappoint. Sliced so delicately that specific skills are required to peel it off the plate and accompanied by the little crispsy breadsticks that everyone enjoys. It was a salivating yes from us. My gluten free dining companion opted for a side of their gluten free bread, which after arriving in its own little bag, for contamination prevention reasons, we shared. I must say, I couldn’t really distinguish the difference between gluten free and normal bread, but I feel the Pinot Gris and drink beforehand might have altered my coeliac senses.

Time for the mains. We ordered the ‘Nod to Terraza Martinez’ seasonal legumes and vegetables rice. On a first glance, overwhelming would be the word that sprung to mind. I’m a fan of paella, don’t get me wrong. I agree with the concept and when done well, it’s worthy of celebration. But this was huge. Concerned yet optimistic glances were exchanged across the table. Upon the initial jab with the serving spoon, we found our eyes deceived us and the kitchen at The Campaner really knew their stuff. The rice is just thick enough to cover the base of the pan and is extremely feasible and flavoursome. The roasted vegetables on top were a variety of those in season: cauliflower, red bell peppers, carrots, courgette, aubergines. Simple? Sure, but it really was delicious, and we found ourselves scraping each last grain of rice from the pan. We finished with that perfect level of fullness. The one where you haven’t quite entered the comatose stage, you don’t feel unwell or ashamed at the volume of food consumed, but are simply in a state of serenity.

One of the reasons I love food and restaurants so much is because of the stories and people behind them. I love how food unites people. How it can allow a group of strangers to bond over a mutual admiration of flavour, or a mutual dislike of texture. It was only after my quick pit stop in Barcelona for the evening that I understood the reasoning behind the Campaner’s name. In Catalonia, the duty of ringing the bell of the town church is highly respected and whoever holds this position is known as the campaner. The owners of The Campaner in Chelsea descend from Catalonia, where relatives lived in a farmhouse called Cabra del Campa in Tarragona. Their grandfather, Jaume, was the lucky man with the honour of ringing the town bell, leading to the renaming of the farmhouse and family to Cal Campaner. Decades later, the family continues to use the name and now share it with their Chelsea restaurant to honour the tradition.

As mentioned, The Campaner is located opposite the Garrison Chapel, and therefore a bell tower. In Catalonia bells represent the identity of a people and were used as an ancestral communication tool. The Campaner has successfully managed to utilise their Spanish heritage to create a community through their service and food. There is a great feeling of inclusion there, even if only for an evening. When it was time for goodbyes, it weirdly felt like saying adiós to a cousin, who you’ll see in a month or so. In hindsight, this could also be related to the bottle of Pinot Gris, but who’s to know, I just know I had a lovely evening.