Beyond Tapas: Why One Falls in Love with Spain (SPAIN - part 3 of 3)

Let me return for a moment to the continent of Europe; our one day transit to Morocco didn't leave me enough time to fully metabolize Spain. Here are a few of the more spectacular recollections from my days spent there.

The Cádiz Fish Market is tucked at the back of the Plaza de Flores (the Plaza of Flowers). Everything in this covered, parking lot sized market was alive and kicking (or recently was), from the wriggling crawfish and gemstone blocks of ruby tuna and marble swordfish, to the energetic vendors and customers, exchanging jokes and greetings as often as prices.

The vendors are charmingly personal in their interaction with customers. Within the auction-house of a fish market, I stopped at a compact fruit stall for an apple. The young, thin vendor peered down upon me, "Which one?". He waved theatrically towards two varieties packed in weathered, wooden crates behind him, red or pale green. "La más dulce de los dos?"I ventured. With a smile, he plucked a green, lopsided specimen, perfect and unique amongst the masses, and passed it over to me for inspection. The apple was crisp, slightly sweet, but mostly tart and yielded a thoroughly satisfying crunch. Throughout the market, this same care and enthusiasm was exhibited behind every transaction, each one magical to witness.

Spanish hospitality is genuine without embellishment. Despite their generally dispassionate expressions, the Spaniards are a generous bunch and were appreciative if not impressed by my faltering Spanish ability. Although my audio recordings with Javier confirmed my frightfully American accent, the locals welcomed my attempts to communicate, and words soon flowed out comfortably under their carefree guidance. By the end, I was seeking out any unthreatening person to practice on, storeowners, waiters, fellow travelers, patrons seated at sidewalk cafes, and even a shy, pre-adolescent boy who was obsessed with my friend's enticingly long, blond hair.

A NOTABLE DISH
The Cádiz Cathedral square is lovely and open, fenced in on three sides by tapas bars and cafeterías with the grand outline of the Cathedral forming the fourth edge. Students and children, dogs as well for that matter, love to gather at the Cathedral steps or in the courtyard seating to await their tapas. Curiously, it also happened to contribute free wifi ("wee-fee"as the Spanish pronounce it). A group of us set off one evening to take advantage of the Lord's generosity, making our way down to the Cathedral past dinner time. A full belly signifies nothing in Spain and we extended our dinner with a plate of huevos con gambas (scrambled egg with shrimp) to ward off the chilly evening. What arrived a short time later was so much more than simply eggs and shrimp. How anyone would have thought to scramble together so many delicious ingredients for an end-product masterpiece and grandly entitle it "eggs and shrimp"was beyond our comprehension. Eggs, softly scrambled in a quaffable olive oil with incredibly fresh shrimp were additionally bolstered by boiled green beans, fried garlic bits, baby wedges of sauteed potatoes, and pickled turnip or onion with a smattering of chopped parsley. We were still digging for new ingredients by the end of dish. Halfway through our meal it began to pour. Buckets of rain flooded our feet and the raindrops danced, drumming against the awning above. We huddled closer together unperturbed, enjoying the yuppie comfort food in front of us.

HELADO y DULCES
WIthin the first two hours of setting foot in Spain, we were already headed for the ice creams. On the open waters, a $1.50 malty soft-serve piled in a stale cone is suitable perhaps for nausea, but low-ranking within the recovered taste-bud circle. Heladerías are about half as prevalent as cafés, meaning that there are quite a few to choose from, and may also be tacked alongside a bakery. Orders come in one, two, or three "bolas"(scoops) for about 1-4 Euros. The ice cream was nothing remarkable to speak of, identical to gelato from Italy, creamier, smoother, denser, and more melty than ice cream from a box. All quite tasty to be sure, but what truly stuck out were the delicate, wafery-thin cones cradling each melting orb. The crispiness reminded me of the tri-colored Mother's Brand sugar wafers from childhood and the flavor was full of authentic eggy, buttery goodness. I sampled pistachio, which I wanted to like more than I actually did, and yogurt, which I actually enjoyed more than I planned on doing so. The yogurt flavor captured the tartness of fresh plain yogurt, lightly sweetened, or otherwise describable as Pinkberry-manifested gelato (an excellent marriage). One of my traveling companions even managed to become a regular within three days at her favorite joint, always with the same daily order.

Sweets and desserts in general are not a national phenomenon in Spain, however the city of Seville has made a name in the international sweets market. I was welcomed out of Seville's train station by streets lined with an army of orange trees, spread across the entire city. Initially, I mourned the prolifically fallen, unclaimed fruit but would soon discover that while the oranges are famous for making marmalade, they are too bitter to be eaten raw. The fruit fuels Britain's jam industry in support of their afternoon tea addiction and as a local proudly told me, the British supposedly import "all"of Seville's orange crops. Lucky for them as the jam did not seem so readily popular with the Spaniards. The orange globes created a beautiful festive backdrop to the city wherever we went. You can tell whether an orange is a sweet or bitter variety by examining the stem immediately protruding from the fruit. If the stem is thick and slightly flattened, looking more like a thin extra leaf rather than a round twig-like stem, then the oranges are bitter.

And now, back to Africa.

Lo empezó con Churros con Chocolate: The Story of Tapas (SPAIN - part 2 of 3)

It began with Churros and Chocolate, a characteristic Spanish breakfast of French cruller doughnut lengths and thick "hot chocolate" for dipping the fried pate choux. The Crullers themselves are delicate with a crispy shell and airy, eggy center miles away from the sugar cinnamon doused 2 feet carnival batons we in America have come to refer to. And the chocolate? My traveling companion with a most unfortunate accuracy described the drink as reminiscent of "warm brownie batter". All visions of sophisticated European melted chocolate essence have disappeared from my mind forever. The chocolate is runny thick, enough to reasonably coat the fingers of churro but lack the strength of dark quality cacao...

It truly began with our port arrival in Cádiz where we immediately herded towards the train station for the city of Seville. A beefy man in his mid-60s, El Jefe (the boss) standing in the front of his cafe, beckoned us in for Churros con Chocolate. His dark rimmed glasses and grandfatherly face immediately appealed to me and I mentally promised to return specifically to his cafe and accept his invitation upon our return to Cádiz. But first, Seville.

- Seville -

True to my word, I came to his store on the final morning of our visit to Spain. I had already crafted out a plan that this kindly gentleman would be the first subject of my street food interviews. Our waiter Javier, whom I later discovered to be El Jefe's son, supplied us with our café con leche, churros y chocolate. Naturally nothing ever goes perfectly according to plan, especially while traveling and I watched my interviewee-to-be scooter off in his bombero, with mild curiosity. Javier would have to suffice; he was more than up to the task.

Javier was the most willing, animated, and gracious participant to my interest in the history of Spanish cuisine. Dodging in-and-out between serving his patrons, Javier wove the story of Tapas to my friends and me, and three of his fellow Spaniard regulars, who eventually shifted their chairs as a unified, amused audience to our performance.

TAPAS
Tapas have their roots in the streets of Spain. Imagine my delight to discover that the defining foods of Spain, which I had ridden off as non-participants in the street food culture of interest, fit the boundaries of my project nicely. During good weather, Spaniards would take to the streets to enjoy the plentiful Mediterranean rays. "Food," Javier said, "is foremost influenced by weather." He described the regional differences of food in the North where cooler temperatures have nurtured the creation of hearty meat dishes and stews, while the milder South prefer salads and prolific seafood (read about the Fish Market of Cádiz in my next post). Vendors offered small bottles of wine or beer in the streets to fuel their touring compatriots and also a free nibble to ward off any accompanying hunger. That's right, the first tapas were GRATIS! Each vendor (or possibly his wife) would create his own dish of choice and these changed by day as much as by mood or the availability of ingredients. Soon people began requesting specific repetitions of their favorite tapas and the call for a centralized collection of dishes was born. Today tapas is a fully commercialized part of the Spanish food industry. Food, still small dishes, is the highlight of the dining experience, and wine and beer have accepted a secondary, albiet equally important, supporting role. In my brief observation of Spanish cities, probably 60-70% of food shops are made up by tapas bars. You can find them squeezed sardine-style with their daily menus displayed on sidewalk chalkboards. Immigrants have added cultural accents to tapas as well with mainly Mexican and South American influences visible in the predominantly Mediterranean landscape. As for Javier, "Why open a tapas bar in lieu of another restaurant, say French of Italian perhaps?" His response captured for me the essence of the Spanish spirit and culture, "I guess I'm Spanish at heart."

* Many thanks to Javier for his time, enthusiasm, and input - and a photo to come.

The MENU - (descriptions of the dishes)
The history of tapas is reflected in the humble, simplicity of the dishes themselves. While tapas bars are built as a bar serving alcohol, the scene is family friendly and the perfect social gathering place; the food is comfort food at is glorious best. From four experiences at three different bars, I sampled delicacies ranging from 1.8 - 12 euros a piece. My last meal confirmed that price is not necessarily an indicator of quality, authenticity, and most importantly taste.

Patatas (potatoes) are ubiquitous throughout tapas (I told you, comfort food). Starchy medallions 2 stacked poker chips thick are fried to a golden brown, wading in a shallow pool of olive oil, and doused in a variety of thick, rich sauces. Supreme quality olive oil makes up a solid staple of the Spanish diet. The several onces of fat I soaked in during my first night off the ship were of the most satisfying and necessary source of energy I had consumed in days. Aceitunas (meaty green olives) brined and served in olive oil (yes, more) are a classic starter. Anything and everything is served "a la plancha." From fish, crawfish, and calamari, to sacks of fish roe, if it can be grilled or fried, it will be. Paella, creamy short-grain bomba rice (similar to Italian Arborio) is the Spanish manifestation of all things beautiful in a huge shallow cooking vessel. Seafood and meats nestle in between sweet pimientos (roasted, marinated peppers) and the entire saucy dish is seasoned with saffron and paprika dulce. And for the food adventurous, menudo con garbanzo is a seriously substantial stew of the lining of cow stomach and garbanzo beans (chickpeas) in a rich, sweet concentrated sauce.