Tortilla Español

Ah, the glory of a tapas bar

Tortilla Español

 Here's a recipe that'll amaze your friends and confuse your enemies.  A Spanish tortilla.  Oh, yeah.  Delicious.  Impressive, but easy.  Of course, as you know I don't do difficult recipes.

One of the unexpected pleasures of dropping into a Tosca (tapas bar) in Spain is having the barkeep plunk down a tasty nibble along with your wine or beer.  You don’t have to ask.  You only have to eat, drink, and chat until it’s time to get a refill.  Often the tidbit accompanying your drink is a small square of tortilla Español.

No my friends, it’s not a tortilla of corn or flour you get at your fav Mexican eatery, it’s a potato filled omelet, usually served at room temp.  I can hear those wheels grinding.  Omelet with beer or wine in the early evening?  The simple answer is: YES!  Served warm or cold, it’s delicious and filling, but not so filling you have to stop drinking, which we all know was your real reason for stopping in and gripping the bar with both hands.

Look at it this way, you can buy a lady a drink and feed her at the same time, which was the other reason you stopped in, with the top two buttons on your linen shirt undone and a look as hopeful as your dog when he meets you at the front door.

Now is the time for me to impart some expert advice on how to properly and quickly pick up women.  But, first I need to find an expert...

Guess you’ll just have to be satisfied with my superb recipe that improves on the original.  The original tortilla has just potatoes inside.  I add a few tasties. All you have to do after you make it is buy a bottle of wine and invite some women.  Hungry women, if you know what I mean.

Tortilla Español

9 Eggs

¼ Cup milk

3 medium sized potatoes, peeled and thin sliced

4 inch piece of Spanish chorizo, casing removed, cut into thin slices and quartered

1 onion, peeled, cut in quarters and thin sliced

Salt and pepper to taste

Olive oil

Begin by putting a slosh of olive oil in a high-sided skillet, and frying the potato and onion slices until they are cooked through, but not browned. Add the chorizo slices and toss, just enough to warm the chorizo up.

Set the mixture aside while you put the eggs and milk in a bowl and scramble until you have a uniform color.

Add another slosh of olive oil to the frying pan, pour in the eggs mix and let it cook for a minute or two on low heat. Add the potato/onion/chorizo mix to the omelet and spread the potatoes out evenly.  Make sure you’re using low heat or the bottom will burn.  Cook until the omelet is set, about 30 minutes.  I cover the pan to speed the process.

Here’s another way I differ from the original.  Spanish cooks flip the omelet into another skillet to brown the other side.  This is fine for Spanish cooks and the world’s greatest magicians.  For common folk with the hand eye coordination of blinded mules, I suggest instead foregoing the slight of hand required to flip a semi-cooked omelet from one hot skillet to another without screaming in pain. Simply and quietly slide the skillet about 8 inches under your oven broiler and let the other side turn brown.  No flip or flopping or messing about.

Here’s another hint:  The thickness of the omelet is solely determined by the size of the skillet you’re using.  Thick omelet = smaller pan.  I used a mid-sized pan, as you can tell by the thickness of the tortilla Español in my photo.

Still another hint?  Oh, you bet.  Make your tortilla several hours, or even a day ahead.  That way, when the ladies arrive, you can pour wine and chat, while the ladies bat their eyes and do all those other things ladies do to get you to make a fool of yourself.  Yes, men, we are fools, but fools can make a damn fine Tortilla Español!

Parador de Santiago

Ferdinand and Isabela

If you get to Santiago de Compostela, do yourself a favor, if not your budget, and have a scrumptious lunch at the Parador.  Not a familiar name?  Paradors are a series of historic building in Spain that the government has turned into luxurious hotels, the interiors decorated with antiquities, and featuring fine dining, as well as exquisite guest rooms.

The one in Santiago, Parador de los Reyes Católicos, was founded by Ferdinand and Isabela (1486) as a hostel and hospital for pilgrims staggering in from The Way of Saint James.  The construction took ten years. Sits right across from the famous cathedral.  No longer just for pilgrims, it’s a first class establishment, although I’ve been told pilgrims get a discount.  The hotel is often noted as the most beautiful in Europe.  I hesitate to dispute that claim, although I haven’t done a personal survey of all the hotels in Europe.

Don’t feel like throwing down a wad of cash for a room, or even burning some plastic on a memorable meal?  Stop in for a drink at the inside bar or the outside café. Reasonable, especially for a window on the beating heart of this fab city

Follow this link to find out more about the Parador system and to make reservations:  http://www.parador.es/fr/paradores/parador-de-santiago-de-compostela?gclid=Cj0KCQjw78vLBRCZARIsACr4cxwk6kerhDB9wGIlzI59ILNO_gCFluTBy3h3pXF9pMDSjm8FsZcuOo8aAsfaEALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds

Recently, I had the honor of joining friends for cocktails and lunch at the Parador de Santiago.  The experience is as if you’ve joined the fashionable upper crust, if only for a couple of hours.  After all, what joy is there without a vivid imagination and soul soothing alcohol?

The outdoor café overlooks Santiago’s main square, Plaza Obradoiro, and the inside bar has the feel of an English men’s club, featuring deep padded leather arm chairs, a long bar of dark wood and a wait staff  so attentive  you’ll feel as if you hired them yourself.  This ain’t Mickey D’s friends, this is the look and feel of stately, old style luxury.  Take a moment to stroll out into the central stone courtyard, festooned with ancient pillars and arches.  Check out the mother-in-law…I mean gargoyle in the upper corner.

My traveling companion and I had already had drinks in the outdoor café several times.  I recommend the Bloody Marys.  Also, the wines of any variety.  Also the Sherry….also the …well, I think you’re beginning to glimpse my motivation.  The café’s a noble respite from daily cares and mundane commerce.  But this day, since my friend’s wife had just completed The Way of Saint James, we opt for indoor drinks and a leisurely spot of lunch in the cavernous great hall.

Parador cuisine is first rate and features an ever-changing menu of area specialties.  We opt for Chochinillo Asado (roast suckling pig), Lubina (sea bass) and beef tenderloin. (By the way, for those of you still struggling with eighth grade English, op is the singular, opt is the past tense.  Just trying to help.  Opted sounds like you have a lisp or are missing a front tooth.)

The Parador has been many things at many times, and as I mentioned it served as a hospital for pilgrims.  But, that was centuries ago, when the best you could hope for from the hospital staff was educated murmurs over blisters and a little blood letting on your way to the great beyond.  What is now the great dining hall, with splendid curved arches, was the hospital morgue.  Probably shouldn’t bring that up at lunch, or you may bring up lunch along with it.

Don’t you just love it when the waiter (didn’t see any female wait staff) removes the bones from your grilled fish?

I’ve run out of superlatives, but take it from a stingy man, our visit, drinks and lunch at the Parador de Compostela may have emptied my wallet, but it filled my belly and stroked my self-esteem.

Put this Parador and every other Parador on your list.

Other blog entries on Santiago de Compostela:

http://stroudallover.blogspot.fr/2017/07/santiago-de-campostela-spain-aint-just.html

http://stroudallover.blogspot.fr/2017/07/mercado-de-abastos-de-santiago.html

Mercado de Abastos de Santiago

Not ashamed to admit my unabashed love for traditional markets.  The swirls of aromas that awaken the senses, the bustle of people, conversations that tickle the air like a swarm of temperate bees, the cacophony of delivery trucks and squeaking carts lazily arriving and departing, the barking of sellers and serious faces of determined buyers.  Sure, you can find farmers’ markets in the U.S. and they’re fine, but you already know that’s not the kind of time tested and well worn, town market I’m talking about.  You gotta go to Europe or the Americas south of Texas to find what I love.  

No pretend markets for yours truly.  Gotta be real.  Gotta be alive.  Gotta have stacks of fresh vegetables and fruits, flanked by seafood that still carries a hint of salty air and juicy red meats ready to be cut to your liking.

In the big grocers found on the corner of in every American city and good-sized town, most of the fish is frozen.  Oranges and lettuce completed the sea-swaying journey from South America a couple of weeks ago, or longer.  All the meats weren’t on the hoof yesterday, or even last week.  Everything is washed, processed and cellophane wrapped to sterile perfection.

I heard a French wife say she wouldn’t buy a vegetable that didn’t have dirt on it.  I’m with her.  Bring it to me fresh picked and bearing an earthy smell.  I’ll do my own washing.  Even the eggs.  Speaking of which, ever noticed American eggs need refrigeration and European eggs sit unrefrigerated in paper cartons on market shelves?  Ever wonder why?  American eggs MUST be pre-washed and sprayed with a sanitizer, which takes off a natural coating that protects the egg from bacteria.  European egg farmers don’t have to do that.  Their eggs stay fresh and impenetrable on your counter top.

Rather than dwell on wash or don’t wash, you can read the whole story here:

http://www.businessinsider.fr/us/why-europeans-dont-refrigerate-eggs-2014-12/

But, let’s get out of the hen house and back to markets.  In Europe you’ll discover old stone markets that have stood the test of time and they’re not just to impress the tourists.  Restaurant chefs, housewives, house husbands, and serious amateur cooks crowd in, shoulder to shoulder, picking out the best of what the local farmers, cheese makers, vintners, bakers, pastry makers, fishermen, butchers and herb and flower growers have to offer.  Found one of those in the heart of Santiago de Compostela, Spain.  Mercado de Abastos de Santiago is open Monday through Saturday, 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. (0900 – 1500).

How old is this place?  Looks like a photo of forever and your eyes don’t deceive.  The area’s been a center of agricultural commerce for over three hundred years.  The current group of buildings date to 1941, but the gray stone-walls sport a patina of historic use.

Ok, I’m a suitcase-toting tourist, so why would I want to shop at a market?  Hey, I bought thick bars of chocolate for hot chocolate.  Spanish hot chocolate is almost as thick as pudding and American coco is not in the same ballpark, or the same league.  Not even the same game!

Also, as a cook, I shopped for regional herbs.  Living in Europe, I don’t have to worry about custom officers having a fit over what I’ve purchased in another part of the EU.  Surrounding the market, other overstuffed stalls offer kitchenware, t-shirts, glassware and goodness knows what else.

But buying is only a small part of my market visits.  I like to chat with the locals, ask about recipes for favorite dishes, stop and sip a wine or three, smell the flowers, watch how the locals interact, grab an offered taste of this and that.  Every vendor I saw in the Santiago market was happy to whack off a sliver of ham or sausage, slice a bit of cheese or bread to whet my appetite, or answer questions about agriculture, or explain the fruits and wines and flowers I’d never seen before.

In a wine stall, I sampled several vintages and got my eyes and taste buds opened by the wine merchant, ever so happy to tell me about his products.  The ones I tried were delicious.  Funny thing.  He had no wine and beer license, so he couldn’t sell his juice by the glass, but he offered small bottles to slake my thirst while we chatted.

A European open market is truly a place of wonderful discovery and one of the best chances you’ll have to interact with the locals and even share a laugh or two.  Want to find out what real food tastes like?  Let the stall keepers turn you on to flavors, then eat at a local restaurant.  They all shop here too.

The Santiago central market is a wonderland of everything a market should be.