Tapas Party in a Jar

One of the great things about serving tapas is that it's just good, simple food. Score a cheap rioja and a Spanish cheese, slice a sausage, make a nice salad and open a bunch of jars. In Spain, they actually put tasty things in jars.

I have a favorite Spanish salad recipe that's made up of bacalao, oranges, tomatoes and green olives. This might sound strange if you're not accustomed to sweet and savory salads, but this kind of flavor combination is very ordinary in the Mediterranean.


Baguette, quince paste and fig cake in the foreground, tuna, remojón, and assorted olives in the back.

It's colorful, easy to put together and very nice as part of a tapas party spread.

Remojón (Spanish Cod & Orange Salad) (Makes 4-6 appetizer servings)

3/4 cup (about a 5"x4" piece) of dried salt cod
12 oz can diced tomatoes, drained
2 oranges
1 small red onion
10 Spanish olives, pitted and halved (optional)
1 Tbsp white wine vinegar
1/2 tsp Aleppo pepper (or chili flakes)
3 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil

1. Toast the fish over a flame or under a broiler until lightly browned.
2. Soak the the toasted cod in a bowl of cool water while you segment the oranges. Cut each orange segment in half.
3. Cut the red onion in half and cut each half into thin slices. Soak slices in cold water if you want to take out some of the bite.
3. Mix the drained tomatoes, onion slices, olives (if using) and the halved orange segments.
4. Drain the soaking fish and remove any skin or bones. Shred or chop the fish and add to the salad.
5. Blend the Aleppo pepper (or chili flakes) into the vinegar before whisking in the oil. Pour this dressing over the salad and toss to blend.

This salad holds up well (and probably even improves) as it sits at room temperature while you zip around the house picking up stray items in preparation for guests.

Easy-Peasy Tapas for 4-6

1/2 lb block of Manchego cheese, sliced
and/or a half-pound of Garrotxa cheese, sliced

1/2 lb chunk of membrillo (quince paste)
and/or fig paste

1 jar of oil-preserved tuna
and/or Spanish Cod & Orange Salad (see recipe, above)

1/4 lb thin-sliced serrano ham
and/or 1/4 lb salchichon slices

1-2 types of salt-cured or Spanish green olives
and/or roasted peppers and/or marinated tomatoes

1 baguette, thinly sliced
and/or some good lookin' crackers

Nice extras
Dried dates
Roasted almonds
Dried figs

Salud!

Quick Bites: Barcelona

A friend of mine recently journeyed to Barcelona. Having loved the place so much when I went, I was somehow certain she would encounter wonders on every corner.

Sadly, she returned with an appreciation for the architecture and the climate, but little love for the food.

Though aghast, I blame myself. I didn't offer up any advice at all on the favorite spots I'd visited... and it's so easy to go astray when a traveler doesn't know the territory.

In an effort to help friends and random readers avoid similar fates, I'm starting up a new series: Quick Bites. Each edition will feature a few city highlights, a few beautiful photographs, and a recipe inspired by the locale. By no means an exhaustive list (these are nibbles, after all) my hope is that web travelers and world travelers can both encounter something enjoyable.

In this first edition: Barcelona, Spain


Shall I go to the beach, or visit Sagrada Familia?

The Big View

The art! The beach! The sunshine! The wine! The cheese! Oh, lovely Barcelona! We were lucky enough to be in an apartment, so I was able to take full advantage of the enormous Boqueria market (see below).

I'd made up my mind beforehand to try every paella I could get my hands on. I now believe that was a mistake. The paellas were fine, but even the best seemed to pale in comparison to the very simplest dishes we ate... the tapas (locally referred to as pintxos, in the Basque tongue), the fresh-squeezed orange juice, the rich hit of a cortado (an espresso with a splash of hot milk), the toasty delight of double-baked brioche and the creamy wonder of cheese gelatos.

The Bites


Cabra in the cheese cave

As you stroll through the Gothic Quarter, walk into this tidy cheese shop, gawk at the tasty cheese cave and speak with the friendly cheese mongress, a charming Scot, who vends wonderful local cheeses, delightful small plates and flights of her delicious, inventive cheese gelatos (formatgelats).

Formatgeria La Seu
Carrer Dagueria 16
Barcelona
Tel: 93 412 65 48)


Simple, tasty fried chili tapas.

Supremely simple tapas in a no-nonsense old-school wine tavern. They're all about the basics here. Glasses of wine with ungarnished platters of cheese, sausage, serrano, pa amb tomaquet (tomato-rubbed bread) and tasty classics like the fried chilies pictured above. I found the place to be a refreshing oasis of homeyness in an overdeveloped 'hood.

La Bodegueta
Rambla de Catalunya 100
(L'Eixample)
Barcelona
93.215.48.94


Twice-baked brioche

I've already covered this bakery more exhaustively in a previous post, but for the moment I'll just say... yum. And there's more than one location, so you can go twice in a day without looking like a swine.

Forn de Pa Mistral
Ronda Sant Antoni 96
(or Torres i Amat 7)
Barcelona
93.301.80.37
Tel/Fax: 93.302.41.39


Roasted vegetable salad at the Boqueria

On visiting Barcelona, I'm sure every food writer is required by law to mention the Mercat de la Boqueria. There's good reason for the hype. The place has been around since time immemorial, forever featuring great food and lots of it. I think I went there every day... Sometimes twice a day. Fresh tapas at this counter, gorgeous local fruit over there, fascinating mushrooms or nuts or cured meats or fresh fish or... or... or... I'm still thinking about this delicious roasted vegetable and hummus salad I got at a little shop right next to the back entrance. Go exploring there and uncover your own new favorite thing.

Mercat de la Boqueria
Plaça de la Boqueria,
Barcelona
Tel: 93.318.25.84


Pudding-like chocolate at Origen 99.9%

The ultimate in of-the-moment travel, Origen 99.9% sources its ingredients and recipes locally, basing its cuisine in Catalan classics. Going heavy on lunch (and lighter on dinner) in Barcelona makes this town a better bargain, and Origen 99.9% provides a delicious (and satisfying) three-course prix fixe to get you through siesta and into tapas-time. Don't miss their in-house food magazine and the line of ready-made delights they sell.

Origen 99.9%
Several Locations
Tel: 932 411 600
Fax: 932 411 786


Barcelona addictions: the cortado and fresh-squeezed local orange juice

This isn't a place recommendation, per se, but a couple of directives.

The cortado (espresso and a splash of hot milk) is a wonderful drink, so if you're into coffee, order one. They're ubiquitous and addictively drinkable.

Also: If you ever come across (and you will... they're everywhere) a Zummo or Frucasol machine — crazy contraptions that squeeze oranges into wonder juice, order juice immediately. Fresh-squeezed Spanish oranges are so lively and delicious you'll never be happy with a carton of Tropicana again.

The Takeaway

I ate Pan Tomaquet (Pa amb Tomaquet in Catalan) daily while I visited Barcelona. The tomatoes were luscious, good olive oil was plentiful, the bread was nearly always decent and the resulting dish was a simple delight. I wouldn't attempt it without garden-fresh tomatoes, good bread and good olive oil. The most simple dishes invariably require the best ingredients.

Pa Amb Tomaquet Tomato-Rubbed Bread (Serves 2-3)

1 baguette, cut into 5"-6" portions and halved (toasted, if you wish)
1-2 large, ripe, in-season tomatoes, halved
Extra-virgin olive oil
Salt & freshly ground pepper, to taste

1. Rub cut-side of tomato across top of baguette.
2. Drizzle with olive oil.
3. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
4. Serve with glasses of rioja and some nice Spanish olives or anchovies.

Salud!

Swept up in the Mistral

Ramble down the length of Sant Antoni, and you'll spot a beguiling little bakery with a name that conjures a cool mountain wind whipping across the Mediterranean.

The windows are lined with temptations, and yet, you may hesitate. After all, you've been burned before, haven't you? Croissants made with vegetable shortening. Cloying pastries. Loaves that seem artisanal at first, only to later reveal loveless manufacture.



Fear not, hungry one! Mistral's squat peasant loaf has a stone-oven crispy exterior and a chewy, slightly tangy bite that fills the mouth with the flavors of warm grain. Have 'em slice it, pair with a friendly neighborhood cheese and you've got a picnic on the fly.



But wait... have they burnt the brioche? No, dear — that dark, buttery pastry is twice-baked to cultivate a crispy demeanor that dances blithely across the edge of bitterness. (Think: Stephen Colbert on a good day.) It's not one for the kids, but you, lover of biting greens, tannic wines and bold stouts, will revel in its depth. It wants... a cortado, a latte, a cup of chocolate to complement its sophisticated flavor and inviting crunch.

Alas... if only the Mistral blew its delights a bit closer to Brooklyn.



Forn de Pa Mistral
Ronda Sant Antoni 96
(or Torres i Amat 7)
Barcelona
93.301.80.37
Tel./Fax: 93.302.41.39

Film v. Digital... the tradeoff for convenience

I take a lot of photos, and as anyone who eats with me can attest, 80 percent of those photos are food shots done with my stealthy little Canon PowerShot SD400 Digital Elph.

I love it because it's about as small and heavy as a deck of cards, which makes it fantastic for quick little things like this:


Lunch at Iposa in Barcelona.

(BTW: The salmon was fair, the pork was very nice and the lunch menu price was simply super: 6 EU for an entrée, beverage and coffee. Plus, it's around the corner from the Boqueria. I score it at two spoons out of five.)

While packing for Spain I glanced at my trusty (but dusty) old Pentax camera. It's a lovely SLR film version (the PZ-20, to be precise), and I wondered if my digital mania came at the cost of some image beauty. Should I even keep the old gray mare? I hadn't touched the poor thing in years... So to perform a test, I made the trek to B&H (which really is worth it just to see all the wonder that is B&H) for a new battery and some fresh rolls of Fuji film (my fave).

I took both along to Spain and used the digi for stealthy restaurant shots and the SLR for obviously touristy stuff. I just got back my 1-hour film developing, and you can see the head-to-head results here:



These are both images taken at Gaudi's fabulous (and as-of-yet unfinished) Sagrada Familia church in Barcelona. The one on the left is film, the one on the right is digital. Click into each of them to get the larger versions.

Now, aside from a size difference and a difference in overall hue, look at the detail in the film version. The digital blows out in the lightest areas and doesn't pick up the delicate shapes of the shadows. Comparatively, the film version has such crisp lines and such touchable depth, it makes the digital version look flat and dull. The film version makes my stomach jump with its color and beautiful light handling. The digital one is merely... okay.

Of course I knew film was superior, but still: wow. I'm a bit shocked at the difference. I know all the digital benefits, of course... less fuss, less expense, fewer nasty chemicals in the processing, less looking like an idiot tourist or even worse, a theft target.



And yet, I also wonder how less tasty my food photos look. How much more lush tomato goodness would we see in this photo? How many moments are now captured as pale, digital index cards rather than vivid, tantalizingly rendered images?

Barcelona, the Land of Luscious

Fresh strawberries and yogurt for breakfast


Wow! Mangosteens! Those aren't allowed in the U.S.! Now available in the US... irradiated, of course.


Bumpy, savory little garden tomatoes at the Boqueria

I believe that in my native tongue (Hedonistese? Hedonistish?), I will make "Barcelona" synonymous with succulent fresh fruit. I've just finished my week there, and have been consistently agog with the flavor power in the ubiquitous glasses of fresh-squeezed orange juice, the sweet perfume floating up off the flats of strawberries in the Market de Boqueria and the luscious tropical gush in the local peaches.

The oranges, of course, are well-known here. Valencia, just down the road, lends its name and reputation to them. In Barcelona, it seems every little cafe contains the same mesmorizing juice press: the Zummo.

Looking like a Rube Goldberg device for citrus, the push of a button drops oranges down a wire gutter to the waiting slicer, turns the halves to face the reamer, and presses out tangy-sweet rivulets of nectar into a pitcher or glass below. Ahhh... bliss. I want one, but it costs thousands of dollars and my kitchen is too tiny... even for the far-more diminutive Zummito. I'd have to choose between my beloved Kitchenaid mixer and the Zummito. It's too painful even to contemplate.

Barcelona's streets are filled with shops displaying tasty little pastries, but they're generally a bit too cloying for me. When we had the menu for lunch last week at the terribly tasty and satisfyingly sustainable cafe Origen 99.9%, J chose the seasonal fruit for dessert, and received one perfect golden apple presented on a napkin-covered plate.

We were a little shocked at first. Dessert is generally so dainty and fussy that the presentation of one single fruit seems like underachievement. But after our richly braised entrées, a large, crisp and honeyed local apple was actually quite welcome.

I forget, sometimes, how treasured fruit once was. The apple in particular has had a rich history full of status and prestige.

When mated slices of his perfect apple with my adorable glass pot of creamy yogurt, the flavors loved each other very much. It turned out to be so much more satisfying than the usual parade of saccharine-sweet pastries and brownies done up with sparklers for additional dining drama. I could picture thousands of years of happy diners enjoying the simple, fresh flavors of fresh fruit and tangy sheep's milk yogurt, and that, too, added satisfaction to the experience.

Fruit is the plant's demonstration of affection for us. (Well, that and the natural inclination to propagate more plants.) I'll need to wait a few weeks for the local berries to arrive and another month or so before the stone fruits. It's gustatory affection on pause.

Meanwhile, Barcelona, rich in fruit, echoes across the ocean with its sonorous song of sweetness. I can hear it now... Barcelona! Barcelona! Barcelona!

The Barcelona Mystery Green

Some help? Anyone?

Anybody know this vegetable? It's crisp, watery, slightly salty and covered in a bumpy, translucent skin that looks like perma-dew.

We discovered it first in our fresh mesclun mix from the big Barcelona Boqueria. Later, we found a vendor who sold them alongside sea beans and arugula. She said it was a local Spanish plant with a very long name.

It's tasty and fascinating, but we haven't used it in anything other than fresh salads. If anyone knows this green and has tips on use, I'd be happy to hear all about it!

May, and the crisper goes mad with spring fever

J left on Sunday for sunny Spain, and it's been cold and gray here in New York ever since. (Check the weather reports and you'll see this statement is not simply the skewed view of a pining girlfriend.)

While I labor in the industrial zone in Queens, he sends me notes that go like this:

I made a picture of today's picnic lunch for you, but my internet connection isn't good enough to upload it. The place where I bought the food was like the prepared food area of a Whole Foods, only better appointed and staffed by grown-ups. They had several counters, each with some sort of focus (breads, savories, pastries, chocolates). The items on sale were priced by the kilo, save some things that are typically sold in slices, such as tartas and quiches.

When I selected my veggie quiche, the quiche-lady wrapped it in butchers' paper, tied the parcel with a string, then handed me my food and a small placard on which she wrote the price in grease pencil over a space labeled with her counter's name (there was one slot for each section). When I was done, I took my parcels and the placard to the door where I was charged for everything at once, after which the clerk erased (i.e. wiped clean) the placard and placed it in a stack to be returned to the counters. The quiche, which I ate in the big park by the Prado, was excellent.

Yours,
J.

Ah, for a leisurely life of sunny picnics and charmingly wrapped quiches!

Meanwhile, back in Gotham, my crisper drawer is mad with spring fever. I brought home fresh spinach, strawberries and local grouper for a solo Friday night fish feast and discovered that every shallot bulb, garlic clove, onion, shallot and scallion in the bunch sprouted green tops and depleted the white bits I'd normally use in my sauté.

Sitting in the cool darkness of the refrigerator floor, how do they know it's springtime? They didn't do this to me two months ago. Suddenly, it's May, and all the aromatics in the household are suddenly inspired to burst into fresh sprays of chartreuse sprouts. I've been wishing for some space to garden, but this wasn't quite what I'd had in mind.

I was disoriented and dismayed until I remembered that green tops are just as yummy and useful as white bulbs. So then, marching on to dinner:


Montauk Grouper
with a quick brown butter sauce, sliced green shallots and fresh cilantro chiffonade


Spinach-Strawberry Salad
with toasted walnuts, Israeli feta and a balsamic vinaigrette


Three small chocolate-chip cookies*

Easy, quick, delicious, seasonally appropriate (except for the cookies, but when are cookies ever in season?), and a good use of my newly discovered refrigerator garden.

I won't join J. in the sunshine for another week, and every day until then is scheduled for darkness and rain. That said, as long as the market is full of fresh produce and my refrigerator remains rich in garlic and shallot sprouts, I can't help but feel the daily pulse of spring on my dinner plate.

*Cookie Tip for Single People: Next time you bake chocolate-chip cookies, make extra dough, chill it down, form the cold dough into fat discs the size of slightly squashed golf balls and keep 'em securely wrapped in your freezer. That way you can just take out two or three at a time. Bake frozen cookies in an oven preheated at 350°F for about 12 minutes. Presto! Fresh, hot cookies with no need to commit to a whole dozen.