THE MANY WAYS TO FRY

 

Samfaina con pollo is a dish of sautéed summer vegetables with chicken. The dish calls for three ways of frying--sofreir, saltear and rehogar. Easy steps that develop a lot of flavor.

Vocabulary tells us a lot about culinary techniques. And Spanish cuisine has almost a dozen words for different ways to fry food. 

Freir is “to fry.” But, sofreir is to pre-fry, or fry lightly. Refreir is to refry. Then there are saltear, sauté; rehogar, to brown; dorar, to brown or “make golden;” sudar, to sweat in oil; sellar, to seal or sear; pochar, to poach in oil, and caramelizar, to caramelize. All of these take place in oil. Olive oil, of course. 

Frying is the cooking process in which the food is immersed in hot oil. The verb comes with its corresponding nouns and adjectives—frito is, you guessed it, a fried food. Fritura means a plate of fried foods, such as fritura malagueña, Málaga’s famous mixed fish fry.  Patatas fritas, fries, are cooked in deep oil. Breaded and battered foods are fried—think croquettes, shrimp.

Fritura malagueña is a mixed fish fry, best when the fish are fried in olive oil. See the recipe here.

For Spanish fries, the potatoes fry in enough olive oil to cover them.  The recipe for how-to make Spanish fries is here. 

Deep-fry croquettes in olive oil. Recipes for three kinds of croquettes, mushroom, ham and cheese-potato, are here. 

Gambas rebosadas, batter-fried shrimp, are a favorite in tapa bars. The recipe is here.

Yes, you can deep-fry in extra virgin olive oil. Heat olive oil to a temperature of 360ºF/ 180ºC. This is well below the smoking point of olive oil, 380ºF to 410ºF.  At this temperature a crust forms on the surface of the food, so the oil doesn’t penetrate it, but it doesn’t brown too quickly, allowing the interior of the food to cook thoroughly.

Sofrito, though, is more than the act of frying. Sofrito is procedure, technique and result. It means gently frying ingredients in olive oil to give new flavors and complexity to a finished dish. 

Sofrito usually begins with slow frying of onions, garlic, sometimes peppers, in just a little oil and often finishes with the addition of chopped tomatoes. The tomatoes, too, are “fried” until their liquid cooks away. Sofrito, if sieved, can become a sauce in its own right. But usually it is the first step in a more complex dish. Paella, for instance, starts with sofrito, to which are added chicken or rabbit, other vegetables, seafood. Rabo de Toro, braised ox-tail, starts with a more complex sofrito with leeks and carrots as well as the onion and garlic to which the pieces of meat are added.

Sofrito builds flavor for paella. Start with garlic and peppers, add vegetables, brown chicken or rabbit, then add tomatoes, rice, liquid. Paella, step by step, here.

Pochar and hacer sudar are subcategories of sofreir. Pochar is a word poached from English. In Spanish, the word for poaching an egg is escalfar, not pochar. Pochar is used specifically to mean cooking something, usually chopped onions, in oil at a very low temperature without letting it brown. Figure 20 minutes. It’s okay to cover the pan. Sudar is similar, meaning “to sweat” the onions in oil until softened. Not exactly frying, although it does take place in the medium of olive oil. 

This brings me to the subject of sliced or diced potatoes destined to be incorporated in the famous Spanish tortilla de patatas. While a Spanish cook would probably say, “freir las patatas,” I tend to say, in English, “poach” the potatoes in olive oil. Because, although the potatoes are immersed in lots of oil (which is drained off),  you definitely don’t want high frying temperatures. You want the potatoes to cook slowly and never brown. (Don’t worry, if you use olive oil, they do not soak up a lot of oil.)

Saltear just means sauté. Writing recipes in English, I invariably use the word “sauté” when I mean for you to fry cut-up food in some oil. Sauté comes from the French word, sauter, meaning “to jump.” The idea is to keep the food moving around in the frying pan. The Spanish equivalent is saltear, which doesn’t actually mean “to jump,” (that is saltar), but “to skip over.” If you’ve ever watched an experienced cook flip a pan full of chopped onions with a jerk of the arm, you know what saltear is. Salteado de champiñones is a sauté of mushrooms. Salteado de guisantes or habas is a vegetable sauté of peas or fava beans. Either could be topped with a huevo frito, egg fried in enough olive oil to nearly cover it.

Salteado de champiñones, mushroom sauté, is the perfect side dish with grilled steak. Recipe is here.

Salteado de guisantes, a dish of fresh peas sautéed with ham, topped with an egg.  See the recipe here.

The Spanish way to fry an egg, immersed in olive oil. Directions for how-to are here.

A word that doesn’t exist in Spanish is for Chinese stir-fry. The technique of quickly frying cut-up foods at extremely high temperatures seems, well, foreign. I think this is because expert wok frying really does reach the smoking point of olive oil. If this is your thing, use sunflower oil, aceite de girasol. I do a lot of stir-frying. I do use olive oil, but I keep the temperatures below the smoke point. Basically, a Spanish salteado with soy sauce. 

Rehogar means "to brown in oil." Chefs sometimes say to “sellar” meat or chicken in a hot pan with a little oil. Although sellar means “to seal,” what they really mean is “to sear,” to rehogar or brown the surface, which develops the Maillard reaction, converting proteins and starches to deep, savory flavors. 

Brown chicken pieces in oil--rehogar--with a few cloves of garlic before adding liquid to finish their cooking. (Recipe below.)

A refrito of garlic.

Other terminology for frying includes refrito, which means refried, as in that Mexican dish, refried beans. In Spain, a refrito often is a quick fry of garlic, perhaps with ham, that is added to a cooked dish as a finishing touch. Spoon it over cooked vegetables, baked potato, grilled fish or lentil soup immediately before serving. The recipe for garlic refrito is here.

The recipe below for Samfaina con Pollo, a Catalan dish of sautéed vegetables with chicken uses three of these frying techniques. It starts with a sofrito, continues with a salteado, or sauté, with eggplant and zucchini. The chicken is rehogado, or “browned” before being added to the vegetables. Each step contributes flavor and complexity to the finished dish.

Sauté of Summer Vegetables with Chicken, Catalan Style

Samfaina con Pollo (Samfaina amb pollastre)

Ready for the sofrito, salteado.

You can vary the quantities and proportions of the vegetables. 

2 medium onions (10 ounces)

3 cloves garlic

2 frying peppers (8 ounces)

1 red bell pepper (8 ounces)

1 large zucchini (14 ounces)

1 medium eggplant (14 ounces)

4-5 tomatoes (1 ½ pounds)

3 + 2 tablespoons olive oil

Salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Red pepper flakes (optional)

Sprig of fresh thyme

For the chicken

½ chicken, cut up (1 pound 10 ounces)

Salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Thyme

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 cloves garlic

3 tablespoons Spanish brandy

Water, if needed

For the samfaina:

Chop the onions finely. Slice the garlic. Cut the peppers into ½-inch pieces. Cut the zucchini and eggplants into ½-inch dice. Remove cores from the tomatoes. Grate them, discarding the skins.

Stir or flip the onions.

Sofreir the onions and garlic.

Place the garlic in a skillet with 3 tablespoons of the oil on medium-high heat. When garlic begins to sizzle, but before it browns, add the chopped onion. Sauté the onions, stirring or flipping them frequently, until they are completely soft, 10 minutes. Regulate heat so the onions don’t brown. 

Raise the heat and add the two kinds of chopped peppers. Continue to move the onions and peppers with a wooden spoon or paddle until the peppers lose their liquid and begin to sizzle. Turn down the heat and continue sautéing until peppers are sofritos, fried until soft.

Add remaining 2 tablespoons of oil. Stir in the diced zucchini and eggplant. Add about 1 teaspoon of salt, pepper and red pepper flakes, if using. Continue sautéing on medium-high heat until all the vegetables are softened, 5 minutes. Add the tomato pulp and juices and sprig of thyme. Turn up the heat until tomatoes begin to splutter. Lower heat and cook the samfaina, uncovered, until vegetables are tender, about 10 minutes more. 

Samfaina, ready to serve, is vegetarian. Add chicken to it, if desired. 

For the chicken:

Season the chicken pieces with salt, pepper and thyme. Allow them to come to room temperature. 

Heat a heavy skillet on medium-high. Add the oil. Lightly crush the garlics, without peeling them. Add them to the skillet. Place the chicken pieces in the skillet, skin-side down. Let them brown very slowly without moving the pieces around in the pan, about 5 minutes. Turn the pieces and let them brown on the reverse sides. When chicken is nicely browned, carefully add the brandy and cook until the alcohol is cooked off. 

Either add about ¼ cup of water to the pan to finish cooking the chicken or else transfer the pieces to the samfaina pan to finish cooking with the vegetables. 

Add chicken pieces to the samfaina vegetables. 

Samfaina is quite similar to Pisto, a summer vegetable dish that has appeared in various manifestations in this blog, vegetarian and with meat or fish added. Here’s one of them: Pisto with Pork.

MOROCCO--THE DATE CONNECTION

World's largest palm oasis, in the valley of the River Ziz.

Morocco continually surprises. We drove through miles and miles of desolate, arid, rocky landscape, then, suddenly, pulled over to overlook a lush, green palm oasis. A river of green trees, where small, walled settlements—casbahs—follow the valley, flows in the bottomland of the River Ziz.

Dates, almost ready for harvest.

The palm oasis—possibly the world’s largest—is also the source of Morocco’s date harvest. Right now (mid-October) is harvest season. I was there a few weeks earlier, when huge bunches of dates were still ripening at the tops of the palms.

Date palms laden with ripening fruit, near Erfoud, Morocco.

We dropped down to the valley floor, zig-zagging through palm trees and gardens to arrive at Maison Zouala, an old Berber home that has been turned into a guest house. Our host, Mhamed (Hami) Oukhouya, served us a marvellous cous cous and an orange and date salad.

Hami, of Maison Zouala, tells us about dates and the philosophy of inshallah.

Tafilatet dates are incredibly sweet.

The dates of the Tafilalet region, Hami said, are the Medjool variety, although they differ from California Medjools. Over centuries, the Moroccan date palms have adapted to local climate and soil conditions. They are incredibly soft and sweet.

Interestingly, Arab and Berber settlers carried palm trees to Spain in the 10th  Century AD. They were planted in the area of Elche (Alicante, eastern Mediterranean Spain). Using the same methods as in North Africa, palms were placed along boundaries of irrigated plots to maximize water retention. Elche has Europe’s largest date palm plantation, although because its climate is marginal, fruit doesn’t properly ripen.

And, then, Spanish colonizers established the date palm on California missions in the 17th century. The Morocco connection.

Date palms reflected in the waters of a natural spring. Dates need their "feet in the water, their head in the fire," meaning groundwater for the roots and hot desert, low humidity, for the foliage and fruit ripening.

A roadside stand selling unripe yellow dates.

At the foot of date palms.

Cous Cous with Seven Vegetables and Dates
Cus Cus con Verduras y Dátiles

Sweet dates stud fluffy grains of cous cous with chicken and seven vegetables.

This cous cous recipe is based on one found on a web page about Moroccan food products, (Page 22  http://www.agriculture.gov.ma/sites/default/files/terroirs-of-morocco.pdf. According to that site, it takes six women (of a cooperative) eight hours to prepare 50 kilos of cous cous.

My initiation into preparing cous cous came from Paula Wolfert’s original Moroccan cookbook—Couscous and Other Good Food from Morocco, (Harper and Row, 1987.)

Paula details how to dampen the grain, then steam it twice over the pot of simmering stew. Her very important note: “If the stew in the bottom of the cous cous pot is fully cooked and well seasoned prior to the final steaming of cous cous grains, you should transfer the stew to a separate saucepan, keeping it warm, and perform the final steaming over boiling water.” While it’s ok to cook the chicken until falling off the bones, try not to cook the vegetables until they disintegrate.

Seven is a “lucky” number, but not fixed. Vegetables such as eggplant, cabbage, sweet potatoes, fava beans and artichokes can be added to the stew. Beef or lamb, cut in chunks, can be used instead of chicken.

Most cous cous recipes call for salted butter as well as oil to prepare the cous cous. I've used only olive oil. 

Steamer has perforated bottom.

I'm using a cous cous steamer I bought in Morocco 50 years ago! It has a perforated bottom. It should fit tightly over the big stew pot (this one is not the original). If you don't have a cous cous steamer, use a heat-proof colander. Tie a dampened cloth around the join between steamer and pot so no steam escapes around the sides.

Serves 6 to 8. You may need to serve the cous cous, chicken and vegetables on two platters.

 

For the chicken and vegetable stew:

Seven vegetables, give or take a few.

6 chicken pieces (legs and thighs)
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
6 tablespoons olive oil
2 onions
5 plum tomatoes, halved
¼ teaspoon saffron threads
1 tablespoon hot water
1 teaspoon powdered ginger
¼ teaspoon turmeric
1 cinnamon stick
Bouquet of parsley and cilantro
10 cups water
4-6 carrots
2 turnips, quartered
1 pound cous cous (procedure follows)
12 dates
2 zucchini, cut in half lengthwise
½ butternut squash, peeled and cut in pieces
1 red bell pepper, seeds removed and cut in wide strips
12 almonds, blanched and peeled

Sprinkle the chicken pieces with salt and pepper.

Chicken, vegetables, spices and herbs go in the pot raw.

Place 3 tablespoons of oil in the bottom of a large stew pot. Cut 1 onion into wedges and place in the bottom of the pot. Place the chicken pieces on top. Cut the second onion into quarters and tuck them in with the chicken pieces. Add the halved tomatoes.

Crush the saffron in a mortar. Place it in a small bowl and add 1 tablespoon of hot water. Let it infuse 10 minutes.

Add 1 tablespoon of salt, 1 teaspoon of black pepper and the ginger, turmeric, cinnamon and herbal bouquet to the pot with the chicken. Drizzle with 3 tablespoons more of oil. Place the pot on a medium heat and cook, covered, 10 minutes. Add the 10 cups of water and the saffron water. Bring the liquid to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer, covered, 45 minutes.

Peel carrots and, if they are large, cut them in half lengthwise. Add carrots and turnips to the pot with the chicken. 

Prepare cous cous for cooking according to following procedure. Steam cous cous over the chicken-vegetable stew for 15 minutes.

Add zucchini, butternut squash and red bell pepper to the stew. Place cous cous over the stew to steam with the dates for 20 minutes.

To serve: mound cous cous on a large platter. Use a slotted spoon to remove chicken pieces from the big pot. (If chicken is falling off the bone, discard bones.) Place chicken around the cous cous. Discard herbal bouquet, cinnamon sticks and any loose tomato skins. Place vegetables on top of cous cous. Garnish with the dates and almonds.

Ladle some of the cooking liquid into a bowl and serve it alongside the platter of cous cous, chicken and vegetables.

Use wooden fork to break up lumps in dampened cous cous.

To prepare the cous cous:
1 pound cous cous (about 2 ¾ cups)
Water
12 dates
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons olive oil

Place cous cous in a shallow pan and add 2 cups of water. Sluice the water through the grain, then pour into a fine sieve to drain off excess water. Return the cous cous grain to the pan and let it dry 20 minutes. Rake it through with a wooden fork or fingers to break up lumps.

Ladle the cous cous into a cous cous steamer or heat-proof colander that fits over the big stew pot. Bring the contents of the pot to a boil, place the steamer on top, uncovered, then reduce the heat so the stew just bubbles and steam gradually rises through the cous cous. Steam the cous cous 15 minutes.

Turn the cous cous out into the shallow pan. Spread it to dry for 5 minutes. Sprinkle with ¼ cup cold water and 1 teaspoon salt. Add the dates to the cous cous. Drizzle with 2 tablespoons of oil. Use the hands to spread the oil through the cous cous, breaking up clumps of the grains.

Return the cous cous to the steamer and place it over the stew. Steam for 20 minutes.

To serve: mound the cous cous on a large platter. Place the chicken and vegetables on top of it. Stud the cous cous with the steamed dates. 

Serve cous cous with chicken, vegetables and dates. Serve harissa chile sauce on the side.

Date Bars
Barras con Dátiles

A holiday treat, date bars.

For me, dates signify a special occasion because, when I was growing up, dates were a treat for holidays, when my mother made her famous Date Bars, chewy squares, chock full of nuts and sweet dates.

My mother’s recipe for Date Bars, from The Settlement Cook Book (by Mrs. Simon Kander; around 1942), called for melted butter and one cup of sugar. I have substituted olive oil for the butter and eliminated the sugar completely. Dates are so incredibly sweet that I don’t think you’ll miss the sugar. 

Makes 16 bars.

¾ cup flour
¼ teaspoon baking powder
1/8 teaspoon baking soda
1/8 teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon cardamom or cinnamon
2 large eggs
½ cup extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon water
1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
1 cup chopped dates (about 7 ounces pitted dates)
1 cup chopped nuts
Confectioners’ sugar for dusting (optional)

Sift together the flour, baking powder, soda, salt and cardamom.

In a mixing bowl, beat the eggs. Beat in the oil, water and lemon zest. Stir in the dry ingredients to make a smooth batter. Fold in the dates and nuts.

Preheat oven to 350ºF. Oil a rectangular baking pan (7X12 inches). Spread the batter in the pan. Bake until top is springy when pressed, about 20 minutes.

Cut into bars while still warm. Dust with confections’ sugar, if desired.

Chewy date bars are chock full of sweet dates and nuts.

Moroccan dessert: sliced oranges with orange blossom water, cinnamon, dates. Usually with almonds, but I've added seasonal pomegranate seeds instead.

The Moroccan date festival and trade fair, Salon International des Dattes au Maroc, takes place from 26 to 29 of October in the town of Erfoud. http://sidattes.ma/

CHICKEN MARBELLA IS NOT FROM MARBELLA

Marbella (the word means “beautiful sea”) is a town not far from where I live on the Costa del Sol, southern Spain. It’s a lovely town with gorgeous beaches on a beautiful sea, the Mediterranean. Marbella is a first-class resort, with fine hotels, beachfront apartments, hillside villas, yacht harbors, a charming Old Town with typical tapa bars and trendy boutiques. (See ravishing photos on the marbella.turismo Facebook page.)

La mar bella--the Mediterranean.

The traditional cooking of Marbella reflects its geography—fishing port, olive groves, irrigated farmland and citrus orchards, upland game reserve. It also has cocina de vanguadia, avant-garde cuisine, such as that presented by two-Michelin-star chef Dani García at his eponymous restaurant at the Puente Romano Beach Resort. Chef Dani makes a cherry gazpacho with cream cheese, anchovies and pistachios that is a tongue-in-cheek take on traditional food and, at the same time, supremely delicious.

But nowhere in Marbella is there anything quite like Chicken Marbella, a recipe that appears in a classic American cookbook, The Silver Palate Cookbook by Julee Rosso and Sheila Lukins ((Workman Publishing; 1979). Because the recipe is so un-Spanish, in spite of its name, I’ve always skipped over it.

But, recently, I read an article in The Tablet (an online daily magazine of Jewish news and culture) proclaiming Chicken Marbella as one of “our favorite recipes for the Passover seder.” (The Passover holiday ends today.) I decided it was time to take another look at that recipe.

The brilliant bit about the recipe is its ease of preparation. It calls for four chickens, meant to feed a crowd. You put the quartered chickens in a marinade, overnight or longer, then put them in roasting pans, add prunes, olives and wine and bake until tender and golden.

Marinated chicken bakes with prunes, olives and capers.

The marinade calls for vinegar and oregano. That, indeed, is a typical Spanish adobo, commonly used with fish, pork, or poultry. Then, you add prunes, olives and capers. Spanish cooking occasionally combines meat and poultry with fruit (I have a Moorish-inflected recipe for lamb with prunes) and also with olives (chicken or duck). But, both? Well, I’ll give it a try.

Then, you place the chicken pieces in baking pans, spread brown sugar over them and add white wine. Sugar!

An earlier article in The Tablet included an interview with Julee Rosso, one of the authors of The Silver Palate Cookbook, who said their recipe was inspired by food they encountered while travelling in Spain and Morocco. The “prunes were very much Marrakech tagines; the green olives were Marbella, Spain.” That sounds about right. But, the sugar is pure American! Maybe that’s why it’s such a popular dish. But, not in my kitchen! No sugar, no way. 

Here is my interpretation of the classic Chicken Marbella. I made it with one chicken, to serve four. I’ve eliminated the sugar totally. If you like the sweetness, I suggest using sweet wine such as muscatel, PX or sweet Sherry. I used Sherry vinegar instead of red wine vinegar in the marinade and dry Sherry instead of white wine as called for in the original recipe. I loved the sweet jammy baked prunes with the briny olives and capers.

Chicken with Mediterranean flavors.

Chicken Marbella

You can use all legs and thighs instead of a whole quartered chicken.

Serves 4.

1 chicken, about 2 ½ pounds, quartered
3 cloves garlic
1 teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon oregano
3 tablespoons Sherry vinegar
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon brine from capers or olives
8 (or more) pitted prunes
1 tablespoon capers
¼ cup pitted brine-cured olives
2 bay leaves
¼ teaspoon coriander seeds
1/3 cup dry fino Sherry
Chopped parsley or cilantro to garnish

Place the chicken quarters in a non-reactive container (glass or ceramic). In a blender or mini food processor, combine the salt, pepper, oregano, vinegar, oil and brine. Spread half of it over the chicken. Turn the chicken pieces and spread remaining marinade on the chicken. Cover and marinate, refrigerated, at least 12 hours or up to 2 days.

Preheat oven to 350ºF.

Place the chicken pieces in a roasting pan. Scrape all the marinade over them. Tuck the prunes around the chicken. Add the capers, olives, bay leaves and coriander seeds. Pour the Sherry around the chicken.

Bake the chicken, uncovered, basting with pan juices every 15 minutes, until chicken is tender and lightly browned on top, about 60 minutes.

Transfer the chicken, prunes and olives to a serving platter. Discard the bay leaves and pour the pan juices over the chicken. Scatter chopped parsley or cilantro on top.

Chicken Marbella.

SURF 'N TURF, WHERE THE TURF IS CATALUÑA

Chicken cooks with shellfish in a rich sauce for Spanish surf 'n turf.

Years ago when I started collecting recipes around Spain, I came across one in Cataluña (northeastern Spain) that struck me as really exotic, “Chicken with Lobster.” Chicken cooked with shellfish seemed pretty strange, until I recalled the American steakhouse specialty, surf and turf—lobster with steak.

When I first tasted the dish, also known as mar y montaña, sea and mountain, I assumed adding chicken was a way to extend the pricey lobster. A single lobster plus chicken could feed six or more. I have since read in Coleman Andrews’ CATALAN CUISINE that its origin was exactly the opposite, the lobster was to extend the chicken: “Chicken was expensive, taking time to raise and money to feed, while every cast of the net brought up shrimp and spiny lobster,” wrote Andrews. (Langosta, by the way, is spiny lobster, which has no claws. The kind with claws is called bogavante in Spanish.

I have come across many variations of mar y montaña (or mar i muntanya in Catalan). The three in Coleman Andrews’s book are chicken and shrimp; rabbit with snails, monkfish, cuttlefish and shrimp, and rabbit with pork, sole and mussels. The most elaborate version I found, Ampurdan style, calls for jumbo shrimp (langostinos), sea crayfish (cigalas), cuttlefish, mussels, sausage, pigs’ trotters, rabbit, chicken, snails and mushrooms!

What all of these land and sea combos have in common is the addition of a picada. Picada is a paste made of ground nuts, garlic and bread that both thickens and seasons the sauce. The picada for mar y montaña usually also contains chocolate. Now, that really is exotic! Unless, of course, you’ve already savored Mexican mole, also a sauce with ground nuts and chocolate.

Cuttlefish, cleaned and ready to cut up.

Cuttlefish, like squid and octopus, is a cephalopod. It has eight short tentacles, an interior cuttlebone and ink sac. The medium-sized cuttlefish (jibia or sepia) shown in the photo is cleaned and ready to cut up. The thick flesh needs slow cooking (about an hour) to become tender. Tiny ones can be grilled or flash-fried.

Over the years, I have adapted mar y montaña to suit myself, as lobster is not readily available or affordable. (Although, the last time I shopped at HiperCor, El Corte Ingles’s supermarket, I saw lobsters, the kind with claws, imported from Canada at a reasonable price.) I usually make the dish with free-range chicken and cuttlefish (jibia or sepia). Meaty cuttlefish has such a deep-sea flavor. If cuttlefish is not available, squid or monkfish could be used instead, although they do not require such long cooking. 

Typically, a braised dish such as this is served on its own, with only crusty bread or triangles of fried bread as an accompaniment. But, because the picada-enriched sauce is so delicious, I like to serve rice as a side to soak it up. Yesterday, instead of rice, I served mar y montaña with creamy polenta. Wonderful.

Chicken cooks with cuttlefish and shrimp in a sauce of almonds and chocolate.

Mar y Montaña
Surf and Turf (Chicken with Seafood)

Serves 4 to 6.

2 tablespoons olive oil or lard
1 slice bread, crusts removed
3 cloves garlic
30 almonds, blanched and skinned
Parsley sprig
4 jumbo shrimp
2 pounds chicken in serving pieces
Salt and pepper 
1 chicken liver (optional)
1 onion, chopped
1 cup chopped tomatoes (3 medium)
1 pound cleaned cuttlefish, cut in bite-size pieces
2/3 cup dry Sherry or white wine
1 tablespoon dry anisette or brandy 
2/3 cup water or stock
Strip of orange zest
1 bay leaf
½  teaspoon saffron, crushed 
1 ounce dark chocolate, chopped
Pinch of cinnamon
Fried bread to serve (optional)           
Chopped parsley to garnish

Heat the oil or lard in a large cazuela or deep skillet. Fry the bread, 2 cloves of the garlic, almonds and a sprig of parsley until bread and almonds are golden. Skim out and reserve.

Sauté the jumbo shrimp in remaining oil until they are pink and just cooked through. Remove and set aside.

Season the chicken pieces with salt and pepper. Brown them in the fat with the chicken liver, if using. Remove the chicken pieces and liver when browned. Add the chopped onion and remaining clove of garlic, chopped. Sauté 5 minutes until onion begins to brown. Add the tomatoes and cook a few minutes over medium-high heat. Add the cut-up cuttlefish, Sherry, anisette, water, orange zest and bay leaf. Cover and simmer 15 minutes.

Return the chicken pieces (but not the liver) to the cazuela. Continue cooking until both cuttlefish and chicken are tender, about 40 minutes longer.

Meanwhile, prepare the picada. In a mortar, food processor or blender, grind together the fried bread, almonds, 2 cloves of garlic and parsley, chicken liver, saffron, chocolate and cinnamon. Mix with about ½ cup of sauce from the cazuela and blend to make a smooth paste.

Stir the picada into the cazuela. Cook 15 minutes longer. Place the shrimp on top and garnish with chopped parsley. Serve with strips of fried bread, if desired.

Chocolate is a secret ingredient in the sauce.

SHOPPING ORGANIC

Donna Gelb picking out the perfect tomatoes.

As we strolled through the market, filling baskets with fresh produce—gorgeous heirloom tomatoes, striped eggplant, fat zucchinis, glowing red peppers—I started planning my dinner menu.

We were shopping at a weekly outdoor organic farmers’ market, held in four different inland villages on consecutive weekends, this week in Cártama Estación (Málaga province). The village where I live, on a hillside overlooking the Costa del Sol, has lost its agricultural roots. But inland, in the Guadalhorce Valley, farming is still important. ( http://www.guadalhorceecologico.es )

Elly Sleumer, organic farmer.

I was delighted to meet an old acquaintance at the market. She is Elly Sleumer, a Dutch woman who was a pioneer in organic farming in southern Spain. I first met her 20 years ago when I wrote a magazine article about her. She had walked away from a high-powered job that was taking its toll on her health, moved to Spain and bought an abandoned farm with a ruin of a house. Here’s what Elly said back then:

“When Spain entered the Common Market, I started a citrus cooperative here. That's where I learned the commerce of fruits and vegetables. I was the link between the market and farmers. I represented the Spanish Citrus Corporation on various commissions in Brussels.   

“Once I got started in farming, I was horrified at what local farmers were using—loads of pesticides and chemical fertilizers. I come from northern Europe, where already there was a different vision about the environment, about working with nature. I feel connected with the earth. For me, ecological farming is a life-style.    

“At first the local farmers thought I was crazy. Organic farming is not an easy business. You use smelly manure and rotting plant mulch. I was the first one here to invest money in drip irrigation. They had plenty of water then, so they thought I was crazy. Now, everybody uses drip irrigation.”

When Elly got her certification as an organic grower, there were fewer than 200 in all of Spain. Now there are thousands. Elly’s farm and organic produce business, Nature Present, is still going strong, only now her grown children run it.


Back when I first visited Elly’s farm, I made an interesting observation. Standing in a field of organically grown, ripe tomatoes, I picked one and took a bite out of it. Yes, it was better than the tomatoes in the supermarket—but not a lot better. Her business consisted of shipping organic tomatoes to Britain and Germany, so she was growing the same commercial variety as the non-organic growers. Bred for resistance, not flavor. Her tomatoes today were a revelation—heirloom varieties, packed with flavor. We selected a dozen of those beauties.

Organic goat's milk cheese.

Besides fruits and vegetables—the first quinces, cherimoyas, almonds and olives were on sale at the market—we found organic goat cheeses, olive oil (from last year’s pressing), eggs, fresh bread and packaged cereals and herbal teas.

My menu was shaping up. A plate of sliced tomatoes. That goat cheese, sliced and fried, with a quince sauce, then chicken braised with all those vegetables we had bought. As there was no meat at the organic market, I needed to make a stop at my local butcher who sells free-range poultry.

Chicken braised with eggplant, zucchini and peppers, a Catalan dish.

Chicken with Eggplant and Zucchini
Pollo en Samfaina
Samfaina is a Catalan “sauce” of eggplant, peppers and zucchini. Serve the chicken and vegetables accompanied by fried bread, rice or noodles.

The Catalans have an interesting technique for preparing tomatoes: grated instead of chopped. Slice off the tops and stems of the tomatoes and grate them on a box grater, saving all the juice and pulp. The skin acts as a shield so you don’t grate your knuckles.

Serves 6.

1 cut-up fryer, about 3 ½ pounds
salt and pepper
¼ cup olive oil
¼ cup diced serrano ham or bacon
1 large eggplant (1 pound), peeled and     diced
1 red bell pepper, cut in 2-inch pieces
1 green bell pepper, cut in 2-inch pieces
1 large zucchini (1 pound), diced
2 onions, quartered and sliced
3 cloves garlic, chopped
2 large tomatoes, grated
¼ cup dry Sherry
1 bay leaf
1 sprig fresh oregano or ½ teaspoon dried
1 tablespoon chopped parsley


Sprinkle the chicken pieces with salt and pepper. In a cazuela or large skillet heat half of the oil. Put in the chicken pieces and brown them very slowly. Remove the chicken when browned.

Add the remaining oil to the cazuela and sauté the bacon, eggplant, peppers, zucchini, onions and garlic for 5 minutes. Add the tomatoes, Sherry, salt and pepper, bay leaf, oregano and parsley.

Return the chicken to the cazuela. Cover and cook slowly until the chicken is tender, about 50 minutes. The vegetables should release enough liquid to keep the chicken from sticking. If necessary, add a little water to the cazuela.

Fried goat's cheese.

Queso Frito
Fried Goat’s Cheese

Use semi-cured Spanish goat cheese, which is tangy and salty. This makes a lovely starter served atop salad leaves with toasted pine nuts and a sweet-sour quince sauce.

Makes 10 tapas or starters.

¾ pound goat’s cheese
Flour for dredging
1 egg, beaten with 1 teaspoon water
1 cup fine, dry bread crumbs
Pinch of whole cumin seed
Olive oil for frying (about 1/3 cup)
1 oz pine nuts
Salad greens, to serve
Thinly sliced apple, to serve
Quince sauce, to serve

Slice the cheese 3/8 inch thick. Depending on shape of the slices, divide them to make 10 slices that are more or less the same size.

Put the flour and egg in two shallow bowls. Place the bread crumbs in a shallow tin and add the cumin seed. Dredge the cheese slices in flour and pat off excess. Dip them in beaten egg, then coat in breadcrumbs.

Place 1 teaspoon of the oil in a small frying pan and toast the pine nuts until they are golden. Remove.

Place remaining oil in a large frying pan and place over medium heat. Fry the cheese slices until golden brown, about 1 minute per side. Drain on paper towels.

Place greens on salad plates. Top each serving with a slice of fried cheese. Garnish with sliced apple and a scattering of pine nuts. Drizzle the quince sauce over the cheese. Serve immediately, while cheese is still warm. 

Salsa de Membrillo
Quince Sauce
Quince is an autumn fruit so rich in pectin that, when cooked with sugar, it sets up into a solid paste that can be cut into cubes (dulce de membrillo). A handy ingredient to keep in the pantry, quince paste can be turned into a quick sauce, delicious served with pork, with cheese croquettes, with foie gras, with duck. The sauce thickens as it cools. Serve it room temperature or reheat it in a small pan.

Makes about ¾ cup.

4  ounces quince paste
1 tablespoon Sherry vinegar
½ cup boiling water

Cut the quince paste into pieces and place in a blender with the vinegar and boiling water. Blend until quince is smooth.

©text and photos Janet Mendel

WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU LEMONS---

An especially wet winter worked wonders for my lemon tree—it’s loaded with fruit. Right now the tree bears large, overripe lemons as well as small, green ones that will mature by the end of summer, plus fragrant blossoms presaging winter’s fruit. In other words, three crops of lemons in a year.

I use lemon juice and zest just about daily, because they are essential ingredients in Spanish cooking. Tangy lemon juice combined with olive oil, chopped garlic and parsley makes aliño, a dressing or marinade for meat, fish, vegetables. Milk scalded with lemon peel and cinnamon stick is the starting point for Spanish custards such as natillas and flan.

But, recipes using whole lemons are few and far between. Several years ago I made preserved lemons—they are put up in a strong brine—from a recipe in Paula Wolfert’s first-ever cookbook,  Couscous and Other Good Food from Morocco (Paula will soon come out with a completely updated edition of the Morocco book). But, I had more preserved lemons than I could use. 

Since then I’ve experimented with using quantities of fresh lemons, sliced or chopped, in a variety of dishes. Chopped lemon is especially good added to lentils as they cook, whether vegetarian or with sausage. I add wedges of lemon to lamb stew with a touch of honey to balance the tartness.

Inspired by a salad I discovered in La Mancha—moje de limones—with peeled and chopped lemons, scallions, black olives and olive oil, I add shrimp and avocado to make a sensational take on shrimp cocktail (the recipe is in my book COOKING FROM THE HEART OF SPAIN—FOOD OF LA MANCHA).

And, there’s always lemonade! A Basque version uses sliced whole lemons, white wine and sugar.

The dish I make over and over when lemons are abundant is lemon-roasted chicken. Chopped lemons, onions and tomatoes in the roasting pan beneath the bird cook up to almost a confit, bringing out the sweetness of the lemons as well as their tang. Couscous or steamed rice to soak up the lemony pan sauce makes a good side dish.

Lemon-Roasted Chicken 

Serves 6.

1 (4 ½-pound) roasting chicken
salt and pepper
1 large or 2 small lemons
1 bay leaf
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 onion, quartered and sliced
1 tomato, chopped
2 cloves garlic, sliced
1 (2-inch) cinnamon stick
pinch of ground cumin
½ cup dry white wine 
1 zucchini (about 1 pound), cut in half crosswise and lengthwise


Preheat oven to 350ºF.

Sprinkle chicken inside and out with salt and pepper and allow to come to room temperature. Place 1 slice of lemon inside the chicken with bay leaf. Spread half of the oil in a roasting pan just large enough to hold the chicken.
   
Chop remaining lemon, discarding seeds, and spread in the bottom of the pan with the sliced onion, tomato, garlic, and cinnamon. Place the chicken  on top of chopped lemon and brush it with remaining oil. Sprinkle with cumin.
     
Roast the chicken, uncovered, for 45 minutes. Add the zucchini to the pan. Pour over the wine and cover the roasting pan (use a lid or foil). Roast until chicken is tender, about 1 hour longer. Remove the chicken and zucchini to a heated platter and allow to set for 15 minutes. Skim fat from roasting pan. Discard cinnamon stick. If most of liquid has cooked away, add a little water to the pan and scrape up the lemon and onion mixture. Serve it in a bowl alongside the chicken.