Almost seven years ago I journeyed from Santillana del Mar to Santa Maria de Lebaña via San Vicente de la Barquera. So many saints, so much devotion, that it was little surprise to learn that beyond the monastery of Santo Toribio de Liébana and through the Picos de Europe lies the hallowed ground of Covadonga.

It was at the battle of Covadonga in 718 that Christian Spain under Pelayo, King of Asturias, began the reclamation of Iberia from the Muslim Moors. Nestled deep within the Asturian mountains, Covadonga is as important to the Spanish national myth as Hastings is to the British or Lexington to Americans. However, history defies such over-simplification – the linear narrative of one thing followed by another – and it is too easy to say that simply because certain events turned out the way they did there were no other possibilities. Indeed, a sentence stating that the defeat of a Moorish army by a Spanish king at Covadonga began the reconquest of Spain – which culminated in Ferdinand and Isabella vanquishing Boabdil, Emir of Granada, in 1492 – encompasses more than 700 years and glosses over seven whole centuries of war, shifting borders, switching alliances, inter-marriage, suffering and grief.

It is with this in mind that I wonder if it’s an exaggeration to suggest that had the battle at Covadonga ended differently the whole course of western history, and therefore of the world, would have been affected. Spanish historian Claudio Sanchez-Albornoz does not believe so. “Si los musulmanos no hubiesen conquistado el España en el siglo VIII, los españoles no habrian conquistado America en el XVI.”* For him it follows that what began there in the 8th Century resulted in a militarized and battle-hardened Spain conquering much of the New World.

For me, and my own personal sense of history those seven years ago, a dinner of beans, pork belly, chorizo and morcilla suggested just as plausible a theorem: that had not the Asturian armies under Pelayo feasted on fabada in preparation for the fight the next day, there may have been another outcome. And while personal experience suggests that after a hearty meal of this kind one is utterly disinclined to remaining awake, let alone to feeling lively enough to bum rush a horde of scimitar-brandishing Berbers, I still feel that this notion has validity. After all, how could one’s sense of local patriotism and desire to defend one’s homeland fail to be stirred by such a dish? That the culinary use of saffron arrived in the far north of Spain via these same Moorish invaders and the integral ingredient smoked pimentón wasn’t to be discovered for another eight centuries following the conquest of Mexico doesn’t disprove this hypothesis, rather it merely serves to highlight, once again, the non-linear path of history.

(If the Muslims had not conquered Spain in the 8th century, the Americas wouldn’t have been conquered by the Spaniards in the 16th.”)

I remember the night in Madrid Jonny and I thought it would be a good idea to do a tapas crawl after having many, many drinks. We weren’t yet at that “I’m so drunk I must shovel food in my mouth now” place, but were maybe a few bottles of Mahou away. It was a great idea at first, but as the drinks piled on, the tapas were looking smaller and smaller and smaller to me. This girl was getting hungry!  But we had to soldier through. We had to follow the pact we had made after that bottle of rioja that we would have a drink and a tapa, then move to the next bar and have another drink then a tapa.  We would never surrender to buying dinner that night.  Tapas and drinks. Tapas and drinks only.

After the fourth “drink and tapa” run I began to have that feeling in my stomach. You know how it goes. The feeling that if a whole pizza was put in front of you you’d eat it all in one sitting. Or that you could die for some double crispy fries with a vat of blue cheese dressing (as a dipping sauce, of course… come on, it’s good!). Or maybe, just maybe, you’ll get to that next tapas joint only to find that the raciones are four times as large as they usually are?

Well, we stumbled upon the next bar and my prayers were answered. There on the tapas menu was everything I was searching for – a bit greasy, a bit spicy and a bit crunchy with a bit of starch and plenty of protein. Soon a rather large cazuela was placed in front of my salivating mouth containing Picadillo de Carne con Huevos y Patatas. Happy happy joy joy, happy joy joy.

Like two rabid dogs attacking a carcass, we dug in. It was amazing. A flavor sensation. But as quickly as it was put on the table it was just as quickly  lapped up and in our bellies. I still remember that day well and we love to make our own version of that tapa at home. Of course, we eat it as a Saturday brunch dish instead of a drunken bar snack. We substitute the beef picadillo for minced chorizo and use the rendered fat to cook the potatoes in. Yes, not the lightest meal to start a Saturday, but you’ll definitely smile while you’re eating it (and then crawl back into bed to sleep it off).

The first time I ate pulpo a la gallega was at a very disreputable-looking food stand not far from the Estadio Balaídos in Vigo, Spain, before watching a soccer match between Celta de Vigo and Racing Santander (it finished 2-2). It was served on a slightly wilted plastic plate with a toothpick that looked suspiciously blunt at one end, as if it had already been used. I was absolutely sure I was going to have raging diarrhea because of this lack of hygiene, but ate the whole plate anyway. Sure enough, two hours after the end of the match, I rushed back to the hotel holding on to my bowels for dear life.

The second time, things improved considerably, reclining, as we were, in some old oak chairs in a tapas bar in Madrid earlier this year after a morning in El Museo del Prado. The only unpleasant feeling came from our sadness when the generous racione was finished. While pondering these feelings, Amy and I came to the conclusion that it’s one of the world’s greatest snack foods. Chewy, salty, sweet and filling, healthy and satisfying, pulpo a la gallega is simply chopped boiled octopus in the Galician style – dressed with sea salt, olive oil and sweet pimenton – and in Galician pulperias is commonly served on a wooden board with toothpicks. Like so many tapas, and Spanish dishes generally, it is achingly simple, and yet unbelievably good. Add anything to it and it becomes something else, take something away and it’s missing a key element.

That said, this, the signature dish of the region, is sometimes made with potatoes and when it is, is normally cooked on a hot plate and referred to as pulpo a la plancha. Another variation, pulpo a la feria, or pulpo a la feira in Gallego (the local dialect that sits somewhere between Spanish and Portuguese) is traditionally cooked in a copper kettle which gives the purple (when cooked) octopus a more orangey color and interesting minerally-taste. When such traditional vessels are unavailable (like virtually everywhere), a copper coin is often tossed in to the boiling water.

In an effort to do it all in one dish, as we only had one octopus – we boiled the ‘pus with a copper coin and boiled some potatoes separately, then combined them on the plate with the salt, pimenton and olive oil. It was delicious. The texture of octopus might be off-putting for some, as it’s kind of chewy on the outside and “crunchy” on the inside, but I love it, and when cut into inch-long chunks it makes a fantastic finger-food, if your guests are adventurous enough to try it. Not only that, but it’s easy to prepare and octopus is pretty reasonably priced.

Pulpo a la Gallega

Ingredients

1 pre-frozen medium octopus – around 1lb, pre-cooked (if not pre-frozen, freeze it for 24 hours)

2 quarts/ (roughly) 2 liters water, boiling

1 bay leaf, 1/2 onion, 1/4 cup vinegar (optional)

2 medium waxy potatoes, peeled and balled (using a melon-baller)

2-3oz extra virgin olive oil

1 tsp pimenton dulce/sweet paprika

1/2 tsp coarse sea salt

Recipe

Gently boil octopus in 2 quarts/2 liters salted water, remembering to add a copper penny, for 1 hr. (Some recipes call for bay leaf, onion, and vinegar, some not, in the water. Our experience tells us adding a 1/4 cup of white vinegar helps to tenderize the ‘pus a little)

Allow to cool before slicing into 1inch/2cm chunks.

Dress with olive oil, and sprinkle generously with pimenton and salt.

Serve with lots of crusty bread and a bottle of something cool and white, perhaps a Galician Albarino, Ribeiro, or a Portugese vinho verde.

Note: our friend CanaryGirl has also made Pulpo a la Gallega and her technique for boiling the octopus is rather different from ours. Check her out and feel free to tell us which you think worked best.

Check out some other posts you may enjoy:

• Truffled Butter: A Prince Among Ideas
• Pernil (Roasted Pork Shoulder): Low and Slow
• Grilled Rainbow Trout with a Romesco-esque Sauce
• Jamaican Jerk Chicken

It’s widely known that humble ingredients prepared with simple techniques often produce the best dishes, and it’s becoming more widely known that this philosophy lies at the very heart of Spanish cooking – a cuisine that has, in the last five or so years, become one of the most celebrated “new finds” of foodies everywhere. As a result of this, there has been a great deal of interest in tapas and the cuisine and culture surrounding these small plates/finger foods. All of which, in my view, can only be a good thing, even if many of these new “tapas restaurants” (itself, again in my view, an oxymoron) serve few, if any, authentic Spanish dishes.

Indeed, and here lies the rub, in their rush to capitalize on the latest food trend, it seems everyone is trying to outdo everyone else on the cleverness factor. Expanding their menus to include all sorts of dishes resembling “tapas” only in the fact that they are served in small quantities. It’s almost as if the tasting menus of high-falutin’ restaurants have become conflated with “tapas” so that you get tiny dishes and are charged through the nose for them.

Now, we here at WeAreNeverFull.com, perhaps contrary to popular opinion, are not against experimentation or new dishes in the slightest. Quite the contrary, in fact, we are always ready to try new things. However, and again, this may just be our view, so feel free to comment disagreeing, we feel that developing all these new and complicated dishes and calling them tapas is fundamentally against the spirit of tapas as a style of eating, outlined above.

The term tapas, as I’m sure many of you know, is derived from the Spanish word tapa, meaning a lid, and originally connoted a slice of bread or cheese that certain tavern owners used to serve across the top of the drinking vessel, perhaps as a way of keeping out unwanted bugs. Over the centuries this has developed into a wondrous variety of small dishes, now commonly on plates and cocktail sticks, as well as on rounds of bread, that are served to accompany su caña – whatever you are drinking at the bar. Indeed, it has become so refined a practice that many bars, while they might serve a lot of different tapas, are famous for one in particular, a signature tapa, that those in the know only eat at that one bar. So, as you can see, tapas has come a long way from its beginnings as a humble drink lid. That said, the original ethos of simple but tasty accompaniments remains.

We’ve traveled extensively in Spain and eaten, it must be said, an obscene amount of tapas over the past several years, and the consistent theme has been that the ingredients and the simple, time-honored preparations and take center stage, not the ego of the preparer. And this has never been more true than in the case of patatas a la Riojana. So, so simple, unbelieveably good. Really. Potatoes, chorizo, onions, garlic, sweet paprika and water, combine to create a dish that is without a doubt my favorite tapa. And, if I may name-drop shamelessly, I am not in bad company when I say that. Legendary chef and father of nouvelle cuisine Paul Bocuse, no less, while at a culinary convention in Spain in the late 1970s, described patatas a la Riojana as among the “greatest dishes created by man.”

And here is the interesting thing. If Bocuse, a man whose entire reputation was built on small, artfully-plated dishes, found this humble and rustic dish such a revelation, why is it that so many lesser chefs of today are trying so hard, and in many cases failing, to improve upon these time-honored preparations?

Nearly everyone knows that La Rioja is Spain’s most famous wine appellation, but it is also known, mostly inside Spain, as being the origin of many good things to eat. Piquillo peppers are the regions’ second best known export, and together with wild mushrooms, chorizo, river crabs, bream and trout they combine to make many dishes synonymous in the Spanish stomach with La Rioja. In fact, it is the inclusion of a typical Riojan dry chorizo that makes this preparation “a la Riojana” or Rioja-style.

Personally, I would eat this dish three times a week, but if my recommendation that you try making it isn’t good enough for you, then I’m sure you’ll pay attention to the wise words of Monsieur Bocuse.

Ingredients: (serves 4)

• 3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
• 2 cloves garlic, chopped roughly
• 1 small onion (or half a large one) finely sliced
• 7 ounces (or 2-3 links) chorizo, sliced into rounds
• 1/2 pound floury potatoes (idaho or similar), peeled and cubed
• 1 tsp pimenton dulce (sweet paprika)
• 1 tsp kosher salt, or more, to taste
• 1/2 – 1pint (1/2 liter) cold tap water

Recipe: (adapted slightly from Jose Andres’ Tapas: A Taste of Spain in America

• Warm olive oil over medium heat and add garlic.
• Cook for about a minute until golden before adding onions, and sauteing them gently for 20 minutes or so, until light brown.
• Add chorizo and cook until this also is browned, about 2 minutes.
• Place the potatoes in the pan and stir to coat with oil. Cook for 10 minutes.
• Now sprinkle over the pimenton and pour in enough water to almost cover potatoes and chorizo. Put lid on pan and bring to a boil, then lower heat and simmer for about 20 minutes or until liquid is reduced by half.
• Serve immediately with lots of crusty bread and a hearty red Rioja. Unbelieveably delicious. Trust me.
• Unsurprisingly, this is quite a filling dish, but fear not, as left-overs, eaten either cold or reheated the next day are even better as the flavors continue to meld together.

As we mentioned in an earlier post, it’s still fig season for another few weeks. This is a delicious way to eat up those unused figs or to try making this with some dried ones if you have had a hard time finding fresh ones. Believe it or not, this dish tastes delicious with either fresh or dried figs – we’ve had it both ways. We have taken a dish/recipe by Daisy Martinez and, because of time and space, adapted it a bit. In Daisy’s recipe, she makes her version of a Sauce Espagnole, or brown sauce, before adding it to the browned chicken. In addition to adding some smoked pimenton (smoked paprika) to my own version of the brown sauce, I also decided against straining the sauce and, instead, used a potato smasher (my hand blender isn’t in my apartment right now) to create a thick, chunkier sauce. The result is a very satisfying, yet light dish. Ok, so there is some bacon and bacon grease used in the recipe, but it’s only to add depth of flavor. Other than that, this meal is relatively healthy and would work well with dried figs for a fall or winter meal.

I highly recommend trying this dish. It would make a fabulous and cheap meal to make for a big group dinner, as well. Hey, we are in a recession! Gotta get creative!

CHICKEN WITH FIGS (adapted from Daisy Martinez) – serves 4

Ingredients for Brown Sauce:

• 6 slices of bacon, cut into 1 inch slices
• 2 stalks of celery, cut into 1 to 2 inch pieces
• 2 carrots, cut into 1 to 2 inch pieces
• 1 onion, cut into 1 to 2 inch pieces
• 4 cloves of garlic, smashed and cut in half
• 2 sprigs of thyme, leaves off the stem
• 3 tablespoons flour
• 2 tablespoons tomato paste
• 1 1/2 teaspoon smoked pimenton
• 1/3 cup calvados (or other type of brandy/cognac)
• 5 cups of vegetable or chicken stock
• 2 bay leaves
• 3 cloves

Other ingredients:

• 6 to 8 fresh figs or dried figs (rehydrated for 20 minutes in hot water), sliced in half
• 8 pieces of chicken (we used 4 drumsticks and 4 thighs – skin on)
• salt and pepper
• olive oil

What to do:

1. Make the brown sauce by first browning the bacon, allowing it’s fat to render. When it is browned, remove with slotted spoon and drain most of the rendered bacon fat, leaving only about 3 tablespoons.
2. Add the celery, carrots, onion, garlic and thyme and brown them in the bacon fat on medium heat for about 10 minutes. Sprinkle the flour on the veggies and stir until it is all incorporated. Now add the pimenton and stir to incorporate well. Make a well in the veggies and add your tomato paste. Allow to cook for a few seconds then stir into the veggies. Cook for another minute.
3. Turn down the heat and add your calvados and/or brandy. Allow to burn down until it is evaporated.
4. Once it has evaporated, add your stock, cloves and bay leaves and bring to a boil. After it comes to a boil, adjust heat so that it cooks at a gentel boil. Stir occasionally.
5. As the Sauce Espagnole cooks, brown your chicken on medium-high in a heavy-bottomed pan. Add some oil to the pan before you begin and cook, turning to brown both sides – about 10 to 12 minutes.
6. Once browned, lower heat and remove your browned chicken for a moment. Turn heat up to medium-low and ladle in some of the cooking Sauce Espagnole (it’s not done yet, remember!) and pick up the browned chicken bits from the bottom of your pan. Once it is all incorporated and there are no bits left on the bottom, pour in the rest of the Sauce Espagnole into that pan. Add your chicken pieces back along with the crispy bacon and your figs. Turn heat to medium and allow to cook uncovered at a simmer for about 25 minutes.
7. After 20 minutes, cover and continue cooking for an additional 25 minutes.
8. Right before serving, remove figs and chicken pieces to separate pan. Take out bay leaves and discard. Using a potato smasher or hand blender, lightly crush (or quickly pulse hand blender a few times) the very soft veggies down. If you feel it needs a bit more “body”, sprinkle in a bit more flour.
9. Arrange some chicken and few figs on the plate and spoon some of the sauce on top. Serve with roasted potatoes or a hunk of crusty country bread.

Check out these other recipes you may enjoy:

• POLLO EN PEPITORIA “KINDA” (HAZELNUT CRUSTED CHICKEN IN A FINO SHERRY, SAFFRON AND HAZELNUT SAUCE)
• SPATCHCOCK CHICKEN (A TUTORIAL)
• BREAD-CRUSTED FISH WITH LEMON-BUTTER SAUCE
• PASTA WITH LEEKS, ASPARAGUS, MUSHROOMS AND GRUYERE, TOPPED WITH A FRIED EGG

Although we were the lucky recipients of a gorgeous red tagine as an engagement pressie from my parents friends a few years ago, we decided to forgo using it in the 95 degree heat New Yorkers were forced to endure last week. For those who may not know, a tagine (or tajine) is a clay vessel used for the North African dishes of Moroccan cuisine. It’s a two-parter type of deal – the bottom is like a heavy clay pot about five inches in depth and the top is a cone-like lid. There are no air holes in a tagine and this is specifically for keeping the steam inside. It almost creates a small clay oven on your stovetop or in the oven. What’s absolutely brilliant about this cooking vessel is that, due to its conical shape, it retains the moisture which is emanated from the ingredients inside and as it rises, it gathers on the conical top and falls right back into the food braising perfectly. This creates real depth of flavor as well as moist and delicious meats, especially those cuts that are tougher or cheaper. Tagines are really made for slow and low type of cooking and are used for a variety of different types of meals including meat or fish tagines and even soups. I highly recommend getting one of these babies for your kitchen and trying it out – but wait until it’s not 90 degrees outside.Which brings me to the actual recipe portion of this post – it’s friggin/freaking/fricking/fuggin/fucking (however the heck you express it) hot here in my neck of the woods. H-O-T. The last thing I felt like doing was turn on my oven. Luckily, on a shop-a-holic spring weekend in April we got summer-fever and spent about $300 we don’t really have at Lowes. At that time (and in my “holy s&it it’s the first 60 degree day” happiness fog), I thought it would be a great idea to purchase a $99 gas grill for our “backyard”. Somehow, miraculously, we shoved this very large gas grill in our small ‘backyard’ in Brooklyn (I use the word backyard lightly considering our plot of bricked-over land is about 7 feet by 3 feet – but I AM NOT COMPLAINING… honestly!). It’s the best financial investment I’ve made since buying my husbands greencard 5 years ago!

I’m rambling. Apologies. I’m writing this as I’m at the beach, pink with a light sunburn, and I’m 3/4 of the way down a very strong vodka tonic (twist of lime, thank you very much!). Anyways, it was freaking hot in New York, I was craving a tagine and I did not want to turn on my oven or stovetop. What’s a girl to do? Buy all the ingredients for a tagine and cook them on the grill separately. So, that’s what I did and let me tell you kind readers, it was freaking fabulous. We grilled every bit of what I would’ve put in a tagine and we served it with a nutty and fruity couscous. It’s been done time and time again, but, like I’ve mentioned before in another “deconstructed meal”, sometimes you just want to cut into things with a knife and fork. This meal was super easy and obviously much quicker to cook than a tagine. It’s perfect for the hot summer. Just rub your favorite Moroccan spice blend over your lamb (or use chicken if you’d prefer!) like a Ras el hanout, and grill along side fresh apricot and olives. Yes, we grilled olives. Although I don’t think it’s necessary to grill, the olives did take on a nice flavor by grilling them. Throw it all together with some cous cous and (as my British husband would say) you’re laughing.

I have submitted this dish to Grill It! this months “Monthly Mingle”. 

TAGINE-STYLE MOROCCAN LAMB WITH GRILLED APRICOTS AND OLIVES – serves 2

Ingredients:

• 2 lamb shoulder chops
• 1 large onion, cut into thick slices (about 1 1/2 to 2 inches)
• 10 large whole green olives
• 2 apricots (you can use dried apricots or other stone fruit like plums if it’s not the season)
• For Moroccan Spice Mix:
  • 1 teaspoon cinnamon
  • 2 teaspoons coriander
  • 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
  • 2 teaspoon cumin
  • 1/2 teaspoon ginger powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon chile powder or cayenne
  • 1/2 teaspoon paprika
  • 1/2 teaspoon tumeric (optional)
  • 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• For Cous Cous
  • 1 cup of couscous (your favorite brand – if it’s packaged, no problem
  • chicken stock to cook it in
  • 1/2 onion, minced
  • handful of fresh coriander, minced
  • 2 tablespoons pine nuts, toasted
  • 1/2 lemon
  • 1/2 cup raisins
  • 1 teaspoon of the moroccan spice
  • 1 can chickpeas
  • 1 teaspoon lemon zest

What do to:

1. Add all the spices together and mix with a fork or spoon to create your Moroccan Spice Mix.
2. Rub spice mix generously on lamb and allow to sit for at least 30 minutes using a little olive oil to help it adhere.
3. Make sure to reserve at least one teaspoon of the mix to flavor your couscous.
4. Heat grill to medium-high and grill your chops for at least 4 minutes (perhaps as many as 6 minutes – use “poke” test to check) per side for a nice medium-rare pink.
5. After a couple of minutes, oil the onions and begin grilling. These need around five minutes per side and be careful turning them as they tend to separate.
6. After turning your chops over, add the olives, neatly threaded on some skewers. These don’t need that long, they just need to blister a little on all sides.
7. Remove chops to a plate, cover with foil and allow to rest.
8. Oil, salt and pepper the asparagus and begin grilling them.
9. Add chicken stock to couscous, cover and let absorb.
10. When stock is absorbed, add pistachios, spice mix,herbs and lemon zest and fluff together. Aromas will be wonderful!
11. Remove onions, asparagus and olives from grill. Add all to plate and sprinkle generously with some more pistachios. Enjoy!

Check Out Some Other Posts You Might Enjoy:

Knowing Your Tagliatelle from Your Tagliolini
At the Desk Gourmet: It’s the Future
Free Lunch for Inner-City Kids: Does Free Mean It Needs to be Crap?
I’m Dreaming for Some Cured Pigs Cheeks

The most popular ways to serve classic Romesco with vegetables is with the famous Spanish calçots. Calçots are a variety of longer, thicker and sweeter scallions that are also grown in Tarragona, Catalonia (a perfect local pairing!) and are produced in a very specific and time-consuming way with a season lasting only from January to March. Every January or February the calçots are harvested and many Catalonians celebrate this with a huge calçotada or a kind of calcot fiesta. At this big party, Catalonians sit at long tables and consume pounds of calçots which have been charred on a grill of burning vines and then wrapped in newspapers in order to finish cooking in steam. The participants dip the fleshy, sweet insides of the calçots into romesco and wash it down with copious amounts of red wine. Meat and bread are often grilled right after the calcots are. I am hoping to one day taste these beauties but mostly I’m excited to one day be part of a calçotada.

If you’re interested in learning a bit more about the festivities of a calçotada, check out this great YouTube video. You don’t need to understand Spanish to understand it.

Anyways, back to the meal we made. Earlier I mentioned that I called my sauce a Romesco-esque sauce because I kind of was forced to use what I had in my kitchen. I did not have any of the dried sweet peppers called nyora which are normally used but that was probably because they are very hard to come by here in America. In fact, I didn’t even have the substitute that is often used here such as an ancho pepper, so I used what I had (and, purists, I know you’ll kill me because Romesco should never be spicy but I needed to use up a half of salmonella-free jalapeno). Also, Romesco should always be made with fresh tomatoes and I didn’t have any so out came the jar of crushed tomatoes. I also decided to thinly slice some fennel and an onion and sweat them down slowly in a pan with some olive oil. After a half hour of slowly sweating down, you get the sweetest most delicious “relish” which I topped our grilled fish with as well.

In the end, all the flavors melded together perfectly. Maybe it was the crunchiness of the grilled trout skin, possibly the moist trout flesh mixed with the smokey, sweet and nuttiness of the Romesco-esque sauce or it could have been the bliss of having a bit of crunchy potatoes with the moist fish along with the sweetness of the onion/fennel relish? Whatever it was, this meal was a homerun. I hope you try your hand at making Romesco and maybe you have a good story of attending a calçotada?

Feel free to check two of our good blogger friends version of Romesco – Kalofagas, Nuria’s and Michelle’s.

GRILLED RAINBOW TROUT WITH ROMESCO-ESQUE SAUCE AND FENNEL-ONION RELISH – serves 2

Ingredients for fish and fennel-onion relish:

• 1 whole rainbow trout, gutted and cleaned
• 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
• salt and pepper
• 1 fennel, thinly sliced (use a mandoline – it’s easier)
• 1 onion, thinly sliced (I used vidalia onion for it’s sweetness

Ingredients for Romesco Sauce:

• 6 tablespoons crushed tomatoes (or 4 roasted tomatoes)
• 2 tablespoons Spanish sweet pimenton (or sweet paprika)
• 10 Marcona almonds (if using other type of almond, make sure they have been pan-roasted for a minutes and the skin is removed)
• 1 piece of toasted white bread (crust removed)
• 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
• 1/2 of a pepper, traditionally a dried red pepper (I used jalapeno – not traditional at all, but gave it a little kick)
• 1/2 head of roasted garlic
• 1 sprig of mint
• olive oil
• pinch of salt

What to do:

1. Heat about 1/4 cup of olive oil in a pan and on medium to medium-low heat, cook your onions and fennel down for about 20 to 30 minutes until very soft and translucent. Do not let them brown and make sure you stir every few minutes.
2. Roast your 1/2 head of garlic in a 475 degree oven for about 15 to 20 minutes (or until soft inside). Allow to cool before using.
3. Make your Romesco by adding the bread, almonds and pepper first and grind up finely in the food processor. Next add the other ingredients (don’t forget to squeeze the roasted garlic out of the skins!) except the olive oil and salt. Blend until smooth. Finally, with the food processor going, slowly add the olive oil in a slow stream until the Romesco is thick and fully emulsified. Taste for salt and add to your liking.
4. Rub your whole fish with the butter and season inside and out with salt and pepper. Throw on a hot grill and cook until firm on both sides (about 5 to 7 minutes per side depending on size of fish).
5. Eat fish whole or fillet the fish and top with some romesco sauce and a tablespoon of the onion/fennel relish. Serve with greens or crispy roasted potatoes. Drizzle some olive oil all over before serving.

Check out some other posts you may enjoy:

• SPANISH (ASTURIAN) OXTAIL WITH FRIED POTATOES
• FUSILLI WITH SALSA DI NOCI AND MUSHROOMS (WALNUT PESTO)
• BRAISED PORK CHOPS WITH LIME AND OLIVES
• Cabrales Cheese: It’s a Bit of an Animal
• Daily Bread: Still Eaten Daily In Some Parts

A Picture of My Meal in Madrid

There is a difference between rabo de buey (oxtail) and rabo de toro (bull’s tail). I’m sure I do not have to spell it out for you, but I will – one is the tail of an ox, the other is the tail of the bull. They are both beef (bovine), but the main difference is the size of each animal (oxen are usually bigger and stronger because they are used for work purposes) and the fact that a bull is always male.

In Spain it is not rare to eat bull’s tail. It is almost like a perfect pairing of cultural events and food. In the bull-fighting ring, the toreros (or matadores) begin the first of the three stages of the corrida de toros (or running of the bulls). When it is all over, and if the matador has done his job well, they will choose to spare the life of the bull if it has fought nobly or the bull will be killed. You can understand why this very old tradition is controversial. Up the street from the ring you’ll find many restaurants serving various parts of the bull, connecting the Spanish sporting culture with its food culture.

Our Recreated Meal Made in Brooklyn

Since we could not find bull’s tail in our local grocer, we settled for oxtail. As you can imagine, oxtail has been eaten for ages. Back in the day, there was a time when no bit of the animal went to waste (I feel like we’re starting to come back to that way of cooking here in America). Did you know that oxtail is offal? I didn’t, until my husband let me know. I think this is possibly because there’s so much meat on the bone. When I think of offal I usually think of bits of the animal that are either inside or parts like ears, feet and neckbones that do not contain much meat. I am happy to report that oxtail is delicious and meaty with bones that have so much flavor, they make an excellent stock. Because oxen are stronger and more muscular, slow cooking is best to tenderize the meat.

Without a recipe, I recreated the dish I ate at Casa Portal in Madrid from memory. Without getting too big of an ego here, I have to say, I nailed the shit out of this dish. It was one of my most favorite home-cooked meals of the last six months. It did take some time to cook, but the prep is very easy. It’s all about getting it into the pan and letting the flame do the work. The sauce was a bit thicker than the one I ate in Madrid, but I kind of liked it that way. With the spring and summer months ahead, this is one of the last winter-like meals I will prepare for awhile. I really advise you to give oxtail a try, you will not be disappointed.

ASTURIAN OXTAIL WITH SMALL FRIED POTATOES (serves 2 to 4)

Ingredients for Part 1 (Braising the Oxtail):

• 4 lbs oxtail (about 6 pieces)
• 1 onion, cut in thick slices
• 2 carrots, cut in thick slices
• 1 stalk celery, cut in thick slices
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 teaspoon thyme
• 2 sprigs of parsley, roughly chopped
• salt and pepper
• water

Ingredients for Part 2 (Making the Sauce):

• 1 1/2 inch round of pancetta, chopped into 1/2 inch pieces (ask your deli man to just slice a big hunk for you) or 6 rashes of bacon, chopped
• 1 cup oxtail stock (made from part 1)
• 2 cups beef stock
• 1 1/2 cups red wine
• 1 1/2 tsp pimenton (paprika)
• 3 cloves of garlic, minced
• 1 onion, chopped
• Optional: 1 tablespoon flour (sieved into sauce) or cornstarch (mixed with some water and then stirred into sauce)

For the Potatoes:

• 3 large baking potatoes
• vegetable oil for frying
• salt

What to do:

1. Saute the outside of the oxtail in some olive oil in a deep casserole dish. After they are a bit browned on the edges, barely cover them with water.
   Add all the rest of your ingredients and bring to a boil. When it comes to a boil, cover and reduce heat to a simmer. Simmer for three to four hours.
2. After three hours, remove your oxtail carefully and place on a platter. Strain your oxtail stock so the liquid and the vegetables are separated. Remove the bay leaf. Skim some of the fat off the stock.
3. In the same deep casserole, saute your pancetta/bacon on medium in some olive oil. After about a minute, add your onion and garlic. When they have softened add your paprika and stir.
4. Add your wine and scrape up any bits from the bottom of the pan.
5. After scraping up the bits, add your oxtail stock and beef stock along with the oxtail and the vegetables that cooked in the stock in part 1. Stir.
6. Bring to a simmer and cover. Cook for another hour.
7. Twenty minutes before finishing the oxtail, heat up vegetable oil. Peel your potatoes and slice into 1/2 inch slices, lengthwise. Then, cut each of those slices lengthwise another 1/2 inch so you have what looks like a french fry. Cut all your potatoes into thin french fries then take the fries and slice them each into little 1/2 squares. When ready to fry, it will take between 4 to 6 minutes to fry until golden brown. You will remove from the oil and allow to drain on a paper towel. Salt while still hot.
8. Now, back to the oxtail. After the hour is over, remove your oxtail again to the platter. Using a stick blender or regular blender, puree your sauce. Put back into casserole to keep warm. Taste for seasoning adding salt if necessary. If you would like it thicker, add the optional flour or the cornstarch.
9. When your fries are done, you are ready to plate! Place the oxtail, one or two per person, depending on how meaty each is, and pour the sauce around it. Add your salted square fries and you’re ready to dine. Buon Appetit!

Ahhh, jerk chicken. One of my favorite dishes. It’s spicy, kind of sweet and when made well should almost melt in your mouth. On a cold winters night, there’s nothing that can snap you out of a cold-weather-depression than cooking up something from the Islands.

Jerk was used as a way to preserve and cook meat and was originally only made with pork. Interestingly, I found that the work “jerk” comes from a Spanish word called “charqui” which means dried meat. This is how we coined the term “jerky” for that awesome, chewy and salty dried meat we can pick up in 711′s or other corner stores or truck stops. Another possible meaning of the word stems from what happens to the meat when you prepare and cook it – you poke it/or jerk it to produce a hole in order to fill it with the spice mixture (which I didn’t do). I also read that it could come from the reaction your body has as you eat the spicy meat – your body jerks. How about the way you cook it – you ‘jerk’ the meat off the coals. Whatever the derivation all I know is that it’s absolutely delicious! What’s even cooler is that jerk pork’s origins can be traced all the way back to 1655 during the pre-slavery days of West African hunters (the Cormantees) through a group of Jamaican slaves (Maroons) that escaped from the British during the invasion of that year. The Maroons supposedly developed and perfected the jerk as a way to preserve the meat while they lived in the mountains fighting the British troops.

Nowadays, various jerk recipes are passed down from Jamaican family to Jamaican family, but each recipe always includes allspice, hot chilies, salt and various spices and herbs. Traditionally it should be grilled slowly over a wood fire made of pimento (allspice) wood, just to infuse the flavor even deeper into the meat, and continuously basted with the marinade. Because it’s winter in NYC and we will be purchasing a new grill this summer, I enjoy oven-cooking my jerk. If you stick on the broiler for a bit at the end, you can get a bit of crisp on the skin. WHOOOO HOOOOOO… absolutely fabulous! Give it a try yourself – it’s easy. Make it along with a some rice & pea and fried green plantains for the perfect balance of salty and sweet. The crunch of the tostones (SEE BELOW FOR A PICTORIAL “HOW TO”) make the dish. Our friend, Bren, has a great piece on all the different ways you can cook plantains

Also, we’d like to thank our friend, Pixie, who gave our recipe a whirl and had a taste of the Islands in the UK one night. THANK YOU!!

JERK CHICKEN WITH RICE & PEA AND TOSTONES (FRIED PLANTAINS) (SERVES 2-3)

For the chicken and marinade:

• 2 breasts of chicken, skin on
• 2 legs of chicken, skin on
• 2 tbsp. allspice
• 1 tbsp. dried thyme
• 1 teaspoon hot paprika
• 1 teaspoon nutmeg
• 1 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1 tablespoon garlic powder
• 1 tablespoon onion powder
• 1 teaspoon red pepper flakes
• 1 scotch bonnet pepper (or other spicy hot pepper)
• 1 tablespoon brown sugar
• 1/2 cup of cilantro (you can substitute 1 teaspoon coriander seed)
• juice of 1 lime
• splash of orange juice
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 2 scallions
• 1 teaspoon soy sauce
• pinch of salt and pepper

What to do:

1. If you are using allspice berries/seeds and whole cinnamon sticks, grind the spices down with a spice grinder. Then blend all the ingredients together in a blender until smooth (or smooth enough – you’ll have a bit of chunks of garlic and hot pepper). I used the olive oil to make it a wet rub. If you feel like you need more or less, adjust so it’s a thick paste.
2. Slab this on your chicken (remember to get under the skin if you can!). Wear some gloves if you have ‘em… this marinade contains hot pepper. Allow this to marinate for an hour at least, if you have the time. If you can marinate overnight, even better.
3. Cook your chicken pieces at 400 degrees for 45 minutes to 1 hour, or until juices run clear. For the last minute, put on the broiler and allow some of the skin to crisp up a bit. Don’t let the marinade burn!

RICE AND PEA

What to do:

• 1 cup white rice
• 1 can red kidney beans
• 1 small onion, minced
• 1 clove garlic
• 1 scallion, sliced
• 1 teaspoon garlic powder (optional – I really love garlic)
• chicken stock

What to do:

1. Saute your onions and garlic over medium heat for a few minutes (keep em a bit crunchy). Add your rice, the garlic powder, scallions and beans. Add the rice and stir all together.
2. Pour enough chicken stock over your rice that it comes up the width of 2 fingers above the level of the uncooked rice (make the peace sign, put your 2 fingers together, turn your 2 fingers clock wise 90 degrees – that’s how you measure – I’M TELLING YOU – IT WORKS EVERY TIME PERFECTLY). Bring to the boil and allow to cook down until it reaches the level of the rice. When the chicken stock has reached the level of the rice, stir ONCE, turn your heat to low and cover. Cook on low for 20 minutes.
3. After 20 minutes your rice will be perfect, give it a stir and enjoy.

****Traditionally, Jamaican rice & pea should be made with coconut milk. Just replace the chicken stock with 1 can of coconut milk plus enough water so that the total amount of liquid follows the “2 finger rule” (see above).

TOSTONES (FRIED GREEN PLANTAINS)

Ingredients:

• 2 Green Plantains
• veggie oil
• salt

What to do:

1. Heat your veggie oil – you want enough to almost cover the plantains.
2. Peel plantains and cut into slices, about 1 inch thick.
3. Fry your cut plantains once for about 2-3 minutes. Drain on paper towels.
4. Smash with a mallet and then fry again for another 1 1/2 to 2 minutes. Drain and season with some salt.

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On a cold, wintery day, there is nothing better than the warmth of a hearty bowl of Hungarian goulash. After much research, I adapted a recipe by Wolfgang Puck. I’m glad I trusted my instinct that his would taste pretty authentic considering he is from Austria. According to my research, traditional goulash should NEVER contain green peppers or tomatoes. So many recipes I found contained canned tomatoes, but this is supposedly a BIG no-no. Another key, I learned, to a kick-ass goulash is onions, and lots of ‘em. Slicing them thin (use a mandolin if you can) and sweating them down may take a bit more time, but the sweetness and oomph it adds along to the paprika is a taste that can’t be beat.

I have used most of Puck’s recipe, but have adapted a bit of it based on a few other recipes I read as well. Many eat goulash alone, with a side of spaetzle or flour dumplings. I added some boiled potatoes for my starch. Americans may put goulash over rice or egg noodles and top with sour cream, but that is not traditonally Hungarian. I’m also a big lover of paprika, so I use alot… you can scale it down a bit if you’d like. In fact, if you do not like it a bit spicy, do not add the hot paprika and just add one more tablespoon of sweet.

HUNGARIAN GOULASH (Adapted from Wolfgang Puck’s recipe)

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 2 medium to large onions, thinly sliced (about 4 – 5 cups)
• 1 tablespoon sugar
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 tablespoon caraway seeds, toasted and ground
• 3 tablespoons sweet Hungarian paprika
• 1 tablespoon hot paprika
• 2 tablespoons fresh marjoram (I substituted oregano), minced
• 1 teaspoon minced fresh thyme leaves
• 1 bay leaf
• 3 tablespoons tomato paste
• 4 cups beef or chicken stock
• 2 to 3 pounds of beef, cut into 2 inch cubes
• 4 medium-sized potatoes, peeled and cut in halves or quarters
• Salt and Pepper

What to do:

1. In a large saute pan or dutch oven, heat olive oil on medium low and slowly cook your thinly sliced onions until they are translucent. This should take about 30 minutes if you cook them on low and slowly. If you want to cook ‘em faster, go right ahead. I just love the sweetness the slow cooking of the onions brings.
2. Add your beef pieces and allow to sear a bit.
3. Add your garlic and ground caraway seeds and cook for a minute or so.
4. Add the paprika (both hot and sweet), the marjoram or oregano, thyme and bay leaf and allow to saute for a minute.
5. Add the tomato paste and your stock along with a pinch of salt and pepper.
6. Bring this to a boil, then lower to a simmer and cook for at least an hour (an hour and a half is optimal). This will allow the meat to become tender.
7. While meat is cooking, boil your potatoes until they are parboiled and then add them to your goulash a few minutes before you are ready to serve. Taste and add more salt and/or pepper if needed. Serve in a bowl with enough bits of meat and a few halves of potatoes and enjoy.

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