Showing posts with label almadraba. Show all posts
Showing posts with label almadraba. Show all posts

Sunday, May 10, 2026

THE TUNA ROUNDUP

 

Photo La Voz de Cádiz

The almadraba season is underway! The first glistening tunas, Atlantic bluefins, have been pulled from the waters on the Atlantic coast leading into the Straits of Gibraltar. 


The almadraba is a very ancient way of fishing tuna. The Phoenicians, who colonized southern Spain more than 3000 years ago, devised a system of capturing the tuna as they migrated from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean to spawn. The Romans came to conquer and stayed to fish. A few centuries later, the Arabs of medieval Spain gave us the word almadraba for the method of catching these big fish. Almadraba means “the place to strike.”

The almadraba nets, forming long chambers, like a series of corrals, are anchored to the bottom. Tuna swimming through are trapped in the nets. Fishermen in boats pull the nets into a tightening circle, until the huge fish are trapped in the middle. The men haul them on board—the levantá—where they are dispatched with a knife cut in the gills. In port, the tuna are butchered, ronqueo is the word indicating the sound—like a loud snore—of the knife cutting through the rough skin. The fish is cut into many parts, the choice lomo, or loin; the ventresca or fatty belly meat; the morillo, cut from the top of the head, etc.

More than half of the almadraba catch is bought up by Japanese entrepreneurs and shipped, frozen, to Tokyo. What’s left goes to local markets, restaurants, tapa bars and processors.  

The almadraba is sustainable fishing. The catch is monitored and subject to strict quotas imposed by ICCAT (International Commission for the Conservation of Atlantic Tunas). The nets allow smaller fish to escape. The tuna run ends in June; no tuna are captured on their return from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic. It is estimated that less than one percent of the tuna that pass through the Straits are captured. Last year’s catch on the Cádiz coast was about 1,600 tuna. 

Worldwide, however, blue-fin tuna is endangered. According to Fernando Huidobro, journalist, cookbook author, and founder of the Academia Andaluza de Gastronomía, the challenge to the survival of thunnus thynnus is the uncontrolled use of abusive fishing methods such as pelagic longline and, above all, the purse-seine net. 

Atlantic bluefin tuna—Thunnus thynnus—is atún rojo, red tuna, in Spanish.  Bonito del norte, Thunnus alalunga, is white tuna or albacore—not to be confused with Thunnus albacares or yellowfin tuna, also sometimes called albacore (rabil in Spanish).


This month (until June 8) is the XXIX Ruta Gastronómica del Atún in Conil (Cádiz), one of the main tuna-fishing ports. Twenty-nine different bars and restaurants have special tuna tasting menus. Zahara de los Atunes celebrates the XXI Ruta del Atún May 12-17. (The tuna route in Barbate has just finished.)

To whet your appetite, here are links to tuna recipes


This is salt-cured tuna, called mojama, aka "the ham of the sea." The word mojama comes from the Arabic, mushmarra, meaning “waxy,” because the slab of dried fish looks like bees wax. Mojama is made from thick slices of tuna that are packed in sea salt for a day or two, then washed and hung to air-dry. As it dries, the flesh becomes firm and the flavor intensifies. Mojama tastes moderately salty with a subtle iodine taste, but is not “fishy.” It’s a rich, umami flavor. It makes a superb appetizer.


Tuna Tartare. Did you know you should freeze any fish that's going to be served raw? As most fresh tuna comes to the market frozen, that step may already be done for you. This recipe has capers, of course, and pickled melon. 




In Valencia this easy dish is can be made with dry or fresh tuna. It's a simple tomato-pepper sauce, embellished with spices (cinnamon) and pine nuts. Serve it hot or cold.



A great party dish--let guests compose their own bowls. The raw fish can be bluefin or albacore tuna. (On the link is also a recipe for crowd-pleasing tuna cakes--perfect for when you have leftovers from a big fish.)

Cook the tuna on a ridged grill pan or on the barbecue to desired doneness--rare is best. Serve it with this sauce of sweet onions caramelized in PX sweet wine. It's an updated version of traditional atún encebollado, or "onioned tuna." 



A piece of fresh tuna is larded with strips of bacon which help to keep it juicy; slow-cooked in an onion-rich sauce with lots of olive oil, and carefully monitored so it doesn’t overcook and become dry. Unlike a beef pot roast, this one needs only about 30 minutes to cook. 

Too rare for you? Grill the tuna a little longer for medium. Moroccan preserved lemons add a briny accent to the sauce of chopped vegetables cooked in red wine.




This recipe for tuna with tomatoes is traditional in Andalusia, especially in the provinces of Huelva and Cádiz where bluefin tuna is taken. In its original version, the lesser cuts of the big fish would be cut into chunks and braised slowly with not much more than olive oil and cut-up tomatoes. Nowdays, the dish is usually prepared with choice pieces from the loin, briefly browned in oil then finished in tomato sauce to cook only for three or four minutes. Cooked in this manner, the fish stays juicy and moist. 



 
This cookbook explores the fascinating story of the deep and lasting influences that Islamic culture has left on modern Spanish cooking. 

Author and Spanish cooking expert Janet Mendel tells the story of the Moorish influence on Spanish cooking through 120 recipes and photographs for modern-day dishes, from salads and vegetables to fish, poultry and meat to sweets and pastries, that trace their heritage to foods served in medieval times.  (Hippocrene Books)    

 Order on IndiePubs (USA) 

Use PROMO CODE HIPPOCRENE40 for 40% off on all Hippocrene titles at IndiePubs online bookstore.

Saturday, May 10, 2014

THE ALMADRABA TUNA SEASON BEGINS

I’ve just come back from a trip to the Atlantic coast, beyond the Straits of Gibraltar, to the coastal towns of Tarifa, Zahara de los Atunes, Barbate, Conil de la Frontera and, inland, Vejer de la Frontera, where the almadraba, or tuna fishing season, has just begun. 

The almadraba in Spain is a very ancient way of fishing tuna. The Phoenicians, who colonized southern Spain more than 3000 years ago, devised a system of capturing the tuna as they migrated from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean.

Roman ruins at Baelo Claudio, an early fish processing factory.
The Romans, too, fished their way along this coast. Situated right on the wind-swept beach of Bolonia, near Tarifa in the Straits of Gibraltar—the southernmost tip of Europe—are the ruins of Baelo Claudio, a fairly substantial town that thrived from the 2nd century BC until 2nd century AD.

Temples, market, forum, amphitheater make up excavated ruins. Beside the sea, are pits where tuna and fish entrails were brined, fermented and seasoned, producing garum, the salsa of the ancients. Packed in amphorae, this gourmet product was shipped back to Rome.

The almadraba nets, forming long chambers like an interconnected series of corrals, are anchored to the bottom fairly close to the coast. Tuna swimming through on their spring migration to spawn in the Mediterranean are trapped in the nets. Once the huge fish are trapped in the final chamber, fishermen in boats pull the net into a tightening circle. The men raise the net, gaffe the tuna and haul them on board.

The nets allow smaller fish to escape. None weighing under 70 kilos (154 pounds) are captured, with most of the catch weighing in between 180 and 200 kilos (400-440 pounds). The average age of the fish is 14 years, meaning they have completed several reproductive cycles. (I got this up-to-date information from a new magazine called Oro Rojo, La revista del Atún.)

Since 2007, the almadraba catch is controlled and subject to strict quotas imposed by ICCAT (International Commission for the Conservation of Atlantic Tunas). Due to indiscriminate overfishing, the Atlantic bluefin tuna (in Spanish known as atún rojo or “red tuna”) is in danger of extinction. Yet the local fishing industry claims that almadraba fishing is sustainable and feels it is being unfairly restricted for the sins committed by rapacious high-tech “factory” fishing fleets. It is estimated that only 0.01 percent of the tuna that migrate through the Straits are captured in the coastal almadraba.

As much as 80 percent of the almadraba catch is bought up by Japanese entrepreneurs and shipped, frozen, to Tokyo. What’s left goes to local markets, restaurants, tapa bars and canneries.

Different cuts of tuna at Barbate market.

In the mercado de abastos, town market, of Barbate, the home port of the almadraba boats, I found several vendors specializing in fresh tuna, showing all the many cuts as well as hearts, parts and pouches of tuna roe (eggs). Ventresca, the fatty tuna belly, looked gorgeous.



Tuna belly with thick rim of fat.




Loin and other cuts of fresh tuna.

At a nearby shop displaying dozens of tuna products in cans and jars, I bought a jar of tuna preserved in Ibérico pork lard. Something new and unusual to try. Maybe heaped on hot toast? Ventresca canned in olive oil will make a marvelous niçoise salad. Mojama, salted, air-dried tuna, thinly sliced and dressed with olive oil, will make a lovely aperitif with dry Sherry.

Carpaccio of fresh tuna (thinly sliced raw tuna).
While on a tapas crawl in the nearby town of Vejer, I sampled both traditional and vanguardista dishes with tuna. Very enjoyable was the carpaccio of fresh tuna at Casa Varo http://www.casavaro.com/index.html   Fresh tuna is flash-frozen (the method is Japanese), so there’s no risk of ingesting parasites in raw fish.



Grilled tuna in a summer salad.




Tuna with capers.


Back in my own kitchen, I am grilling a thick slab of tuna “loin.” The leftovers make fabulous summer salads.

There are tuna tasting festivals in Conil, Zahara de los Atunes and Barbate from now until June 9.

Sunday, June 3, 2012

TUNA--A GUILTY DINNER

Fresh tuna--beautiful, but---

Every time I see the glistening slab of fresh tuna at the fish market, I promise myself that this is the last time. I will not buy/eat tuna—a critically endangered fish—ever again. Once again, though, I succumbed. In spite of the guilt, oh my god, but it was delicious. That’s why it’s so hard to quit.

Barry Estabrook, who blogs at  http://politicsoftheplate.com, said “There is a strong likelihood that someone in this generation will be the last human to eat a bluefin tuna.” The species, he writes, hovers on the brink of extinction.

And yet. The towns of Barbate and Conil, tuna fishing towns on the Atlantic coast of Cádiz province (Andalusia), have just celebrated their big feria de la almadraba, with bars and restaurants serving up meals and tapas featuring atún rojo—“red” tuna, bluefin tuna.

The almadraba in Spain is a very ancient way of fishing tuna. The Phoenicians, who colonized southern Spain more than 3000 years ago, devised a system of capturing the tuna as they migrated from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean. The almadraba nets, forming long chambers, like a series of corrals, are anchored to the bottom. Tuna swimming through on their migration to spawn in the Mediterranean are trapped in the nets. Fishermen in boats pull the nets into a tightening circle, until the huge fish are trapped in the middle. The men gaff them and haul them on board. It is an amazing sight.

The almadraba catch is controlled and subject to strict quotas. The nets allow smaller fish to escape. All this sounds pretty good. But, here’s the problem—very little of the almadraba catch finds its way to the restaurants in Barbate, nor to the market where I shop. The Japanese buy it all. They pay huge amounts of money, freeze the catch, ship it back to Tokyo. Very expensive sushi in the making.

If you want the truth, I’m not sure what I’m buying. It may be yellowfin tuna that comes from northern Spain (and keeps the tuna canneries operational). Or it may be tuna fished much further afield, in unregulated waters by industrial fishing vessels (such as in the Indian Ocean, where a Spanish trawler was taken by Somali pirates a few years ago).

Perhaps you don’t know what you’re buying either. After consciousness raising and conscience pricking, I am looking more closely. Perhaps the next time, I will give the tuna a pass.

Atlantic bluefin tuna—Thunnus thynnus—is known as atún rojo, red tuna, in Spanish. Important to the canning industry is bonito del norte, Thunnus alalunga, which is white tuna or albacore—not to be confused with Thunnus albacares or albacora, yellowfin tuna, also sometimes called albacore (rabil in Spanish).

In southern Spain, where tuna is part of traditional cooking, it is usually cooked in a slow braise with onions and tomatoes slowly reduced. While it’s delicious that way, I wouldn’t dream of long-cooking tuna. I love it, if not raw, then quickly grilled and served medium rare—pink in the middle.

Sliced tuna with sauteed cherry tomatoes.
Here I used a thick slice of tuna, browning it on both sides in extra virgin olive oil. I added sliced onions, garlic, and cherry tomatoes cut in half. Some oregano. I let the tomatoes reduce while the tuna cooked to that perfect point. After the tuna rested for 5 minutes, I sliced it across the grain and served it with the gooey tomato-onion mix and a sauce of olive purée (that recipe is here; another tuna recipe, with onion confit, is here).

Cold tuna in salad with capers.
I used sliced leftover tuna to make a sort of salade niçoise, with tomatoes, potatoes, beans and capers.

I so hope that I am not the last person of my generation to eat tuna. I would hope to enjoy it again. Meanwhile, I’ll be trying some new recipes with sardines and mackerel, two fish not threatened with extinction.