Sí, Chef!

 The Husband and I are often accused of not caring about food. 

While we are the furthest thing from foodies, we do like to try new delicacies, as long as they fit into our vegetarian lifestyle. I have little tolerance for people who cannot understand that vegetarians can love and appreciate a good meal, even though animal protein is off their proverbial table. 

When we were planning this Spanish excursion, I thought it might be fun to try a Tapas and Paella cooking class. We were looking for something hands-on, as opposed to a mere demonstration, and hoped that our vegetarian eating could be accomodated. When we found what we were looking for, we eagerly signed on.

We were not disappointed. Our master chef for the day, Arantxa, is Corden-Bleu trained and has the energy of the Energizer Bunny. We met her near the Anton-Martin market in the heart of Madrid. We were a class of twelve glassy-eyed neophytes eager to learn at the apron of a master. She took us on a brief walking tour of the market. (Think St. Lawrence meets Chelsea.) We were introduced to the various smells, spices, cheeses, and pickles that are essential to almost every dish in Spain. She told us that traditional Valencia paella is usually made with conejo, (rabbit) but most North Americans cannot stomach the idea of eating their buddy Bugs, so many chefs now make their paella with pork, chicken, or seafood. It is not unusual to also make vegetable paella, so The Husband and I were very excited.

Pork is a very big deal over here. The Spaniards cook it in everything. It is an inexpensive meat and it isn't uncommon to see pork shanks hanging in market windows. Arantxa gave us a very plausible explanation as to why pork is so popular. After the Jewish and Muslim expulsions in 1492, anybody left had to convert to Catholicism. The Inquisition allowed neighbours to rat out any phony Catholic, but if a former Jew or Muslim was serving a huge leg of pork, suspicion was diverted. That tradition of showing off how much pork you are eating has continued to this day.

We made our way over to a converted hardware store to commence the cooking. We were greeted with a lovely sweet vermouth that is usually consumed in the morning, and a plate of green olives, green pickled peppers, and anchovies for the carnivores. We created something called a Gilda. Named for the Rita Hayworth movie, Gildas were devised in the 1940s to give dictator Franco the middle finger. Franco banned any film that he deemed too risque and so, Rita was verboten. Tapas chefs would take pickles, olives and small fish, stab them with a toothpick, and serve them to patrons. In Spain, the colour green is equivalent to what we term as blue in North America, meaning sexy or off-colour. Gildas were deemed salty, sexy, and savoury. 

We made our desserts first. The Creme Catalan is basically a Spanish creme caramel. They needed at least an hour to set up while we moved on to the other dishes. The croquettes were done using a bechamel sauce dough, and the paella was beautifully seasoned with saffron, smoked paprika, and copious amounts of garlic. The meat-eaters feasted on chicken and pork, while The Husband and I were truly satisfied with our enormous cannellini beans and snow peas. All the while, Chef Arantxa was talkative and funny, and she used each and every one of us as her sous-chefs. I was put to work chopping garlic. Did you know that you can eliminate the smell from your hands just by washing them while rubbing something stainless steel? It really works.

The food was delicious, the company exquisite, and the conversation divine. What a wonderful way to complete our time here in Madrid. And don't let anybody tell you that vegetarian cooking is boring or less appetizing. It was delicious.

Some random thoughts:

• We also had Arantxa's assistant Lily helping us today. Everybody needs a Lily in their kitchen. Everthing was clean before we left. She was a marvel
• Paella is never to be stirred. If you do that while it is cooking, it releases the starch of the rice and will have the consistency of risotto. While I love risotto, I wanted paella.
• When asked where the best paella was in Madrid, Arantxa answer "my kitchen." She was so fast you knew she meant it.
• Putting seafood or other meats are acceptable in paella. Chorizo is a big no. It overwhelms the rest of the flavours.
• I need to buy a frying spider. The croquette recipe is a definite must try.

Check out the photos. They are mostly from The Husband. The odd one is mine.

Mercado de Andre-Martin

Garlic galore

Saffron and paprika

The Chef in her element

Perfect Paella

Chef The Husband

Blow torching Creme Catalan

A Rainy Day in Madrid

 Nuestros viajes han comenzado!

This trip has been four years in the making. We were all set to do España in May of 2020, but something global and ugly thwarted our travel plans. So, here we are...FINALLY. We will begin our travelogue in the capital city of Madrid, and work our way east across this lovely country until we hit Barcelona.

Our flights weren't terrible, but a food services strike at Toronto Pearson made for some quick and anxious scrambling for take-out. TAP Airlines bequeathed each of us with vouchers worth $40.00CDN to fill the hunger gap on the plane, but when a salad at Pearson costs $15.00 each, those vouchers don't go very far. The strike in Toronto is not the fault of the airlines, but it is my assertion that better accommodations need to be made for passengers. We were flying in business class for a seven-hour flight, and that dollar amount didn't cover our dinner. As an added bonus, there was a ridiculous amount of garbage on the flight due to every passenger's take-out orders. The flight attendants didn't collect the trash at all during the flight, which diminished the already precious legroom. In our long history of flight mishaps, it was relatively minor, but people pay a great deal of money to fly these days. I know it is asking a lot of airlines to do better, but here we are.

We arrived in Madrid tired, happy, ridiculously cold, and determined to not screw up our systems with jet- lag. After checking into the hotel in the city centre, we ambled down to Puerta del Sol and Plaza Mayor. These bustling areas are filled with shops, people, taquerías, and tapas restaurants. It seemed like every single person in Madrid was enjoying an afternoon cerveza on a patio. The city has recently turned this space into an entirely pedestrian-friendly zone, and the activity was astounding. Don't let anybody tell you that pedestrian areas don't attract business. We knew that we didn't have much energy left in us, so we opted for a quick bite at a local tapas joint before heading home for a luxurious and well-need sleep. The Padron of the establishment wanted to know where we were from. When we told him, he asked if we had anything Canadian that we could give him. The Husband was wearing a small flag pin he was happy to part with. When the gentleman returned to our table with the food, he was proudly wearing a Canadian flag on his chest. We barely made it back to the hotel before sleep set in.

Our plan for today included a visit to Felipe and Letizia's place. A small modest abode sitting in the heart of Madrid, the Royal Palace and adjacent buildings are open to the public. The king is a gracious host and was happy to share his official residence with the thousands of tourists who joined us there this morning. I have been to many palaces around the world and the opulence never ceases to amaze me. The chandeliers alone could probably feed a small country. And the frescoes?? The human hours put into the decoration, architecture, and maintenance needed to keep this place up, boggles the mind.

Anyway, even though Fil and Letty didn't show themselves for lunch, (How rude!) they wanted to make sure to say hello to all of my readers back home. Aren't they a handsome pair?

We wandered over to the Muslim walls after our trip through European decadence. The first record of a settlement here dates back to the second half of the ninth century. Emir Muhammed I built a fortress here at the head of the river Manzanares. The name of the city is thought to have come from the Arabic word majra, meaning water spring or aqueduct. The outer walls of the Muslim fortress are still visible and a beautiful little park has been built to celebrate the city's Near-Eastern history. The park has been purposely designed with all sorts of fragrant plants from the Muslim home countries. Lavender circles cypress and pomegranate trees. Rosemary and rose scents mix luxuriously with myrtle bushes and olive trees. It is a beautiful little area that surrounds a fountain fed by an underground aquifer. The Muslim walls stand proudly but are intentionally overshadowed by the Cathedral de la Almundena. It is a real demonstration of Catholic dominance.

A few quick thoughts:

• The weather today leaves a lot to be desired. It is cold and rainy. It is one thing to be cold and another to be wet, but both at the same time isn't pleasant. Hopefully, we will see some bluer skies soon.
• We ducked into another tapas place for a bite and to escape the rain. El Padron told us, "everything is good and if you don't like it, don't pay." He had spent some time in Ottawa many years ago and was anxious to be a gracious host. He even gifted us dessert.
• I need to write a withering note to Coca-Cola. They seem to have done away with Diet Coke/Coke Light in Europe and replaced it with the far less appetizing Coke Zero. Oh what we North Americans have to put up with while in a foreign land. 
• My Spanish is coming in handy. I'm able to decipher monuments and make sure that The Husband isn't eating any mushrooms in his food. So far, so good.
• Photo credits to The Husband with the exception of the royal portrait. That's mine.

We are headed to Toledo tomorrow and will see some Jew stuff. We're going to sample the metro and the train system. Keep us in your prayers.