Walking down Carrer Parlament in Barcelona’s Raval one day in June, I came across a place that brought back sweet memories of summers in that city. The neighborhood has become trendy, but Horchatería Sirvent is still there, righteously unhip. (more…)
Step away from the red gazpacho. Red means canned tomatoes or tomato juice have gone into the hopper. Both lend a distinctly cooked flavor to a soup that is supposed to be all about fresh summer produce. Here’s the thing: Gazpacho’s true colors range from pink to orange to white, never red.
If you thought the pimientos you ordered in New York or Madrid this winter were good, belly up for another round pronto. What you get, especially if you happen to be in Galicia, in the northwest corner of Spain, will put those wimpy winter peppers to shame. Midsummer is the season for the intensely flavorful, rarely spicy Pimiento de Padrón. (more…)
I have craved this salad off and on since my friend Juani’s mother from Granada made it for a winter picnic ten years ago. We set ourselves up in a clearing just above the town of Rupit (in the province of Barcelona, all cobblestones and 16th century stone houses built into steep rocky hills — worth a visit). It was Christmas day, so the air was cool but the sun was bright and somehow that combination of warmth and refreshment seemed perfectly expressed in what we were eating: juicy oranges, salty cod, tart green olives, a little heat from a red onion, a touch of richness from a hard boiled egg. (more…)
They say it’s spring but it’s cold out and my head is stuffed up and I’m convinced the only cure is the rosemary soup Inés Puigdevall makes at her beautiful casa rural, Mas Garganta, near Olot. I guarantee this soup will lift you out of almost any kind of slump. (more…)
Canalons are one of those rich comfort foods people tend get competitive about. Barcelonins spend a good part of the day after Christmas (when canalons are a tradition) discussing just what exactly makes their mothers’ nutmeg-scented ground pork and veal stuffed into pasta and browned under a layer of bechamel so “light.” I know this sounds Italian, but the cooks of Barcelona swear it is theirs. (more…)
