Zumo con Gas

It is citrus season here in Spain, and the fruits are literally falling off the trees heavy with juice. At Paradiso, the frutería which I haunt weekly, there is a box that can be found at the entrance. This box is loaded with oranges on sale, mere euros for kilos upon kilos worth of citrus(many of which still have leaves connected to the tops. There are adorable).

My friend has a grapefruit tree (which I also haunt [almost] weekly) in his front yard. Between both sources, my tiny kitchen was packed full of citrus. On the first warm day last week, my friend and I juiced 10 fruits: 5 oranges, 2 lemons, 3 grapefruit. What better way to bring in the warm weather than fresh juice? Pump it up with some cool, sparkling water. (I use Vichy Catalan, a Spanish brand of sparking mineral water, or agua con gas. My flatmates call me addicted.)

Materials:
10 citrus fruits of your choice. Stick to one, or mix it up like we did!
1 1.5 L bottle of sparkling water
Sevral dashes of sugar or honey to cut the tang (if using bitter citrus)

Serves 4.

Method:
Juice your cirus. If using, add some of your sweeter of choice. Ratio is half/half: Pour juice into a tumbler and top off with sparkling water. Serve on ice, or use chilled sparkling water. I prefer the latter.

Tortilla

Comfort food is always the best food. Certain dishes bring smiles to faces and warmth to souls. Tortilla, without question, has become one of those dishes for me. I have grown to truly crave this tapa, and it forever has my heart. It is more than a comfort food for me; It is memory. I remember the different tortillas enjoyed in different spots around Spain … and having met friends along the way whom have mastered the art of making this dish. Tortilla is the national dish of Spain, and for good reason. It is simple, healthy, and can be eaten at any temperature. It is great for sharing.

Currently, it is my winter break. Charlie and I recently returned from a holiday in Rome. The best dishes we enjoyed included a maximum of six ingredients, no more, and the flavors were perfect. This is common throughout Europe … simple cooking, minimal ingredients, beautiful flavors. Only five ingredients are required for tortilla, but one takes precedence: Olive oil. This is the secret (in my opinion) to making tortilla, so do not be shy. When cooking provincial dishes like this, many would say "use your best" olive oil. But really, what is "the best" oil? I have come to loathe that term. Like wine, everyone gravitates to a different type, a different palate. Oils are the same, and it also depends on what is available where you live. Forget using "the best" oil. Use your favorite oil. You know, the one that makes you smile.

Materials:
5 eggs
1 potato
1 onion
olive oil
sea salt


Procedure:
1. Beat eggs. Add a dash of salt. Set aside.

2. Slice the potato super thin, as thin as you can. Do the same to your onion. Set aside.

3. Put a liberal amount of oil in a skillet. Fry your onions till slightly golden. Do the same to your potato. Add a heavy pinch of salt.

4. Add 3-4 Tbsp. of olive oil to your skillet. Pour the egg in with your vegetables and let it gently cook on medium for 5-10 minutes (depending upon your stove).

5. The hard part: Flip the tortilla. This can be done several ways:

1. Place a plate on your skillet so that the bottom of the plate faces you, the chef. Flip your tortilla on the plate then slide it back in fast to cook the other side.

2. Liberally coat another skillet of the same size with olive oil. Place this skillet over your tortilla so the bottom of the second skillet faces you, the chef. Flip the tortilla into the "new" skillet and continue to cook the other side.

This serves a ración for 2, or (if quartered) makes 4 tapitas. This is served both hot and cold, and even as filling for sandwiches. Pick which ever way you prefer. If serving as a tapa, don't forget a side of bread, olives, or pisto for that real bodega feeling. Enjoy with friends, drinks, and laughs. Happy Spring.

Pasta Improviso

One of the great things about Italian cooking is it's ultimate flexibility. Following a few basic principles, you can make a meal out of just about anything.

It's Thursday night and I don't feel like going out to eat so I'm taking stock of what I have to work with... a few mushrooms, a leek and a bag of field greens…so it's looking like a salad. Then I see the orecchiette (little ears) pasta in the cupboard and it hits me: why not make a simple sauce of sauteed leeks, mushrooms and field greens?

What’s on hand:
1 Leek
1 bag of field greens
8 mushrooms
1 clove of garlic
¼ cup of olive oil
2 tbsp. of butter
1.5 cups orecchiette pasta
Some white wine (always on hand at our house)
Parmigiano-Reggiano (or equivalent)
Salt and pepper

Put 4 quarts of salted water in a large pot on the stove on high heat. You want to have your water boiling before you start the sauce.

Next, chop the leek fine, then slice the mushrooms as if using them in an omelet. Peel the garlic. Heat the olive oil and 2 tbsp. of butter in a sauté pan and add the leeks. Cook for 2-3 minutes; then add the mushrooms. Crush the garlic with the flat part of a knife to open it up (this makes it easy to remove later) and add with the mushrooms. Note that as the mushrooms and the greens cook they provide additional liquid

for the sauce.

After 3-4 minutes, remove the garlic, add the greens and continue to cook until the greens are wilted and soft. Add a sprinkling of salt and several grindings of pepper. Remove from heat and let rest a few minutes. Add the pasta to the water and cook according to instructions. When about halfway done, place the sauce on low heat and add 2-3 tbsp. of white wine.

When the pasta is done, drain and immediately toss with the sauce. Add a few grindings of pepper, a generous amount of Parmigiano-Reggiano or Grana Padano, then correct for salt. Serve at once.

"Dreaming of Summer" Salad

“Dreaming of Summer” Salad

Today the high temperature was 24 degrees F with last night’s low going to 14 degrees F. It’s during the dark, cold days of January that summer seems light years away.

So what better way to shake off the cold than with a bright summer vegetable salad? For vegetarians, it’s a complete meal with garbanzo beans, roasted red peppers, artichoke hearts, celery, carrots, black and green olives and chives. For the meat eaters, it’s just an awesome salad to go with fish, beef or chicken.

If available, fresh cilantro would make a wonderful addition; however, today’s selection at the market was old and wilted – better luck next time. The salad was dressed with Extra Virgin olive oil, red wine vinegar and 1-2 teaspoonful’s of 20 year old balsamic vinegar from Modena, Italy. Freshly ground pepper and salt are all that’s needed. Go generous with the olive oil and use the fruitiest, sweetest oil available to you.

Variations:
Substitute the garbanzo beans with thoroughly rinsed hominy or black-eyed peas. Or you can use a third of each one. Two cups of pasta such as conchiglie (small shells), farfalle (bow ties) or orecchiette (little ears).

As always, Buon Appetito!

Charlie

Pan Árabe con Aceite y Sal

Rainy days breed comfort food. What is it about being at home, hearing rain outside, and wanting to submerse yourself in all things cozy? Pajamas, multiple cups of coffee, hot, sultry jazz...

This morning I woke up to the sound of rain on the street. A gentle tapping, the sound was enough to dismiss my want of walking to the bakery for bread. I very much enjoy the pan integral from the bakery on my street. It is a small, sandy-coloured baguette (perfect for one) spotted with specks of grain. Inside, it is light, doughy, and un-heavy compared to the whole-grain loaves I have had in the U.S. This was what I wanted...but did not dare venture outside, even if it was a mere block away.

Comfort food. And comfort food is where the heart is. Spain has been a gentle friend to me, sometimes sour but more often sweet, and I wanted her hug: Warm, toasted bread with oil and salt.

With my flatmates still away for holiday break, I took full advantage of using the kitchen. My kitchen. Like my previous post, I decided to make flatbread again. This flatbread which I was taught to make hails from Africa, which is a short boat-ride away. It is because of this, I affectionately call this bread pan árabe. I could call it flat bread, pan plano, but today I cooked it properly for the first time: Portions gently rose forming bubbles reminding me of another Moroccan bread I have had, so pan árabe it is.

My coffee is steaming beside me. I am chewing on warm, freshly made bread. My tougue gets that tasty flick of salt is has been craving. I am warm, blogging, and completely content. Yes, the errands will have to wait for another day...

Olive Flatbread with Steamed Artichoke Hearts and Mushrooms

Where on Earth do I begin? The inspiration? The artichoke escapade? There is really too much to say, and before I type more, let me preface this entry with a statement: This post will no doubt be a long one. Get a cup of coffee, sit back, relax, and read. Happy New Year, by the way. ¡Y Felices Reyes a mi vecinos español!

The inspiration: My dear friend Jenny. Does she know how proud I am of her? Probably not. But in her blog (and you guys should check out sugarspeakbaking.com) she writes a statement that really stuck with me: "I love gifting cookies and cakes to friends and family on special occasions or just because it’s Tuesday". The last part, "...just because it is Tuesday", really hit me for some reason. Why not? And "why Not" happens a lot here in Spain. A lot of things here don't logically make sense. But, like all things in life, you get used to certain things. After a while, one really gets used to the Spanish mentality. And the more you get used to it, the more you just relax, shrug your shoulders, and embrace the "well, Why not"?

At the market, I saw alcachofas and cringed. I love artichokes. Adore, actually. About three years ago, when the Piccolo Gourmet was in the back of my head, my friend Jenny and I decided to "make artichokes" in my kitchen. That kitchen was smaller than the one I now share with Charlie, if you can believe it. Ah, Manhattan. "Why not"? The artichokes 'made' that day were, shall we say, an experiment in the culinary arts. Were they edible? No. Did we try? Yes. I have been petrified of artichokes since then. I gulped hard and said, "Quatro ciento gramos por favor. Sí, alcachofas". Gulp.

I then reference Bon Appétit online on how to properly steam an artichoke. I start sweating. It was the warmest I have been in my stone-cold flat since the start of December. I did everything they said. Did I forget to check the water level in the bottom of my pan? Of course. Is that pan burnt black like Vesuvius? Absolutely. But the artichokes were heaven. Shear heaven. I have not tasted one like it. Ever. The flavor, I am sad to say, cannot be described. One of my favorite culinary memories from New York City is ordering the artichoke at Jean Georges' Nougatine. It arrives in front you simply grand: cut perfectly, steaming hot, and all for you. Ready to be plunged in a dish of melted butter... I am not going to lie: what I made tonight was better. The artichoke needed absolutely nothing. It was earthy, concentrated...like all artichokes should taste like.

And now on to the "Why Not"? My friend Ben taught me how to make this flatbread before he moved to Germany. I loved it. Charlie knows how petrified I am of baking, especially working with doughs. He's the scientist: He's a dough expert. As is Jenny. This flatbread, I am happy to say, is easy. Real easy. So easy, that I make it in less that ten minutes. That's right folks. Have I been wanting to make variations of this recipe? You bet.

Living in Andalucía has really changed my look on food. Everything is fresh here. Bread is baked daily. (You smell it down the street.) Vegetables are sold fresh in open-air markets. Labels of origin are displayed proudly on products. (Please reference the post I wrote on "Thanksgiving". Since then I have changed completely.) I am all about making things from scratch. "Why not"?

Whole-Wheat Olive Flatbread:
5 olives of your choice, pitted, chopped
(I used garlic-marinated green olives)
1 cup of whole wheat flour
(Ben uses local, all-purpose flour. I am in love with the harina integral.)
5 (or so) Tbsp of cold water
3 Tbsp Olive Oil
Pinch of sea salt
Pinch of sugar

Add your dry ingredients together. Add enough water so that the dough holds together. Add Olive Oil and chopped olives. Knead until everthing is combined. Add more flour as needed to you have a clean, well combined ball of dough. Break into meatball-sized balls and roll these out flat on a flour-dusted surface with a flour-dusted rolling pin. Toast on Medium heat until you see those yummy, toasted brown spots. Flip and do the same to the other side.

Topping:
3 freshly steamed Artichoke hearts
200 grams of minced white mushrooms
50-100 grams of freshly soaked, and boiled dry beans (white beans are excellent)
2 cloves of garlic, sliced thin
Salt
Half of 1 large lemon
your best olive oil

Sautee your garlic slices in oil until you smell them and they are toasted golden brown. Add your mushrooms and beans. Sautee. While still warm, chop your artichoke hearts and add to the mixture. Sprinkle with salt and squeeze the lemon over everything combined.

Infused Oil for your artichoke leaves:
your best olive oil
Half of 1 large lemon
1 clove of garlic, sliced.

Coat the base of a small sauce pan with a good amount of olive oil. Add your garlic and sautee. After garlic is toasted, splash the juice of the lemon over all. Mind the seeds. Garnish with a lemon slice.

In closing, yes, this meal is extravagant for one dining alone. I recall Deborah Madison's What People Eat When They Are Alone. There were single men who ate pasta and ketchup. There were others who took the time to rub, marinate, and grill a steak. This meal is all about Jenny's "...just because it is Tuesday". Today, I did some chores and walked around a lot drawing in my sketchbook. Was I starving when I got home? Absolutely. Did I not savour my meal as much as I should have? I did not. Was I glad I went through the effort? Without a doubt. "Why not"? Happy cooking and happy new year!

Aperitivos Secos

I really wanted to blog this simply because I was surprised at the taste of what I purchased today and (obviously) how beautiful they looked. Dried items have been a staple in my diet here, and these three items (figs, almonds, raisins) are almost always on my shelf.

A big culture shock for me (being an extranjero) was the amount of junk food that is available in Spain. The kids here love their candy, but come on, who doesn't? In any case, the amount of "junk food" is equaled by the amount of dried snacks available. At almost every market, vendors have an array of dried fruits and nuts to purchase. I adore this. It is natural, healthy(ish), and fun. You do not know what some things taste like dried until you purchase them, for example, dried strawberries, or fresas secas. These are common. They are, without a doubt, delicious in every way. (If you mix them with peanuts, the combination tastes like peanut butter and jelly.) My other addiction: dried figs, and the battle between who's are better, Turkey or Spain. I also purchased almonds (a staple of mine), and I love mixing these with dried cranberries (arándanos secos) for a snack while in class.

Let me preface this with "I am so so sorry Charlie". I finally purchased something today that I have had my eye on forever. It is the one single item that Charlie despises more than anything in the world: raisins. Yes, Charlie, you may stop reading this now. For everyone else that actually enjoys raisins (myself obviously included), please read on. These raisins are dried on the vine and are the most delicious looking item you ever saw. In the correct light they are a beautiful Cabernet color. Enormous, they are plump, moist, and fall off the stems like roasted meat off a bone. Yes, the seed is inside (like all grapes in Spain; seedless must be an American thing), and they are everything a raisin should taste like.

I felt like Julia Child in My Life In France when she samples things at the Parisian markets she so frequently strolled. She often wrote how items had tasted, and how wildly different they were from the American version. These had such a strong, concentrated raisin flavor. It was so different, and I wish Charlie were here to sample it. He might not hate them as much if he had this one. I cannot wait to nibble on these as I ride the bus to Segovia for a mini-holiday for New Years. As I eat another one now I cannot help to lean back and smile. They are so much fun to eat off a vine!! Did I mention that they are still on the vine? I am sorry, but I can't get over how ferociously cool that is. It is going to be a fantastic new year! Happy 2011, everyone.