SEASON OF FAVAS

I am inundated with fava beans! I’ve just picked enough to fill a laundry basket and will spend a good hour shelling them.

It’s been a bumper crop of favas this year. Weeks ago, the first tender beans were such a delight—they can be cooked pods and all. After that, it was a pleasure to pick and shell a double handful of them to add to a soup or stew or to scramble with eggs. But now, I’ve got to blanch and freeze what I can’t eat. The Spanish saying is Las habas de abril, para mi; las de mayo, para el caballo. April’s favas for me, those in May, for the horse. So, time is running out for me and my favas—and I haven’t got a horse.

Although they somewhat resemble lima beans, fava beans (also called broad beans, habas in Spanish) are not related to limas or to green beans, haricots, pinto or canellini beans, all which come from the New World. Favas, related to peas, were known to the ancients of the Old World. Like peas, they are wonderfully sweet if you can get them just minutes after picking, before the natural sugars convert to starch.

Fava beans grow in many regions of Spain, raised for animal forage as well as human food. When they are very small and very fresh, favas can be cooked unpodded, con calzónes, “in their breeches.” Larger ones must be shelled. The best are called “baby”—really small and tender ones, a springtime treat when stewed in olive oil with garlic.

You will see recipes that direct you to remove the beans’ outer skins. But, in Spanish home cooking, this procedure is rarely followed. Unless the favas are really big and mature, the skins are perfectly edible. But, if you prefer a more “refined” bean dish, just parboil the favas about 3 minutes and drain. Use the tip of a knife to cut a little slit in the outer skin, then squeeze the bean gently to pop out the inner bean (which is very green and in two halves).

Another way to deal with the skins is to cook the favas in boiling water until tender, then puree them in a blender. Press the puree through a sieve.  Season with olive oil, salt and pepper and chopped herbs. The bean purée is delicious as a side dish with roast meats, sausages, poultry.  Chopped mint or sprigs of green fennel are a good garnish for fava dishes. The Catalans add a dash of anisette liqueur to the cooking beans.

Two pounds of favas in their shells will produce about 10 ounces shelled beans, or 1 ¾ to 2 cups of beans. Wear an old shirt or apron when shelling them, as moisture splattering from the pods leaves dark stains. Cook favas in stainless, earthenware or glass, never aluminum, which turns them dark.

Fava Bean Salad
Ensalada de Habas

I first tasted this salad at a restaurant in Valencia and included a recipe for it in my book, MY KITCHEN IN SPAIN (the cookbook has the same title as this blog). Much later, in reading Colman Andrews’ CATALAN CUISINE, I learned that the salad was original to a famous Catalan chef, Josep Mercader.

Crisp iceberg lettuce gives the salad a welcome crunch.

Serves 6.

4 sprigs fresh mint
3 cups small shelled fava beans (1    pound shelled beans)
salt
¼  cup extra virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons Sherry vinegar
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
4 cups shredded iceberg lettuce
2 tablespoons chopped fresh mint
¼  cup julienne-cut serrano ham
finely chopped scallion (optional)

Bring 5 cups of water to a boil. Put in the sprigs of mint, cover, and let the mint infuse for 30 minutes. Discard the mint.

Add salt to the water and bring to a boil. Add the fava beans and cook them for 2 minutes. Drain and refresh in cold water.

In a bowl combine the oil, vinegar and mustard. Add the beans. Cover and let them marinate at least 1 hour.

Immediately before serving spread the lettuce on a serving platter. Stir the chopped mint into the beans. Spread the beans on top of the lettuce. Scatter the ham strips and scallion on top. 

Chocos con Habas
Cuttlefish with Broad Beans

This is a popular dish in Huelva, Cádiz and Sevilla—cuttlefish or squid stewed in a savory sauce with fava beans.  If baby cuttlefish, chopitos, are used, they are cooked whole, releasing their ink into the sauce for real depth of flavor. Large cuttlefish is thick and meaty and needs slow simmering. Squid will cook in half the time.

Use chopped fresh mint, fennel, oregano or cilantro to finish the dish.

Makes 8 tapas or 2 main course servings.

1 ½ pounds cleaned cuttlefish or squid
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 onion, finely chopped
1 ounce pancetta or serrano ham, chopped
1 clove garlic, chopped
1 tomato, peeled and chopped
1 tablespoon pimentón (paprika)
½ cup white wine
Salt and pepper
10 ounces shelled fava beans
Chopped fresh herbs to serve

Cut the cuttlefish into 1-inch chunks or the squid into rings.

Heat the oil in a cazuela (what’s a cazuela? find out here ) or skillet and add the onion, ham and garlic. Sauté on medium heat until the onions begin to brown, 10 minutes. Add the tomato and stir in the pimentón. Add the wine, salt and pepper and the pieces of cuttlefish. Cook, covered, until cuttlefish is very tender, about 45 minutes (Squid needs about 30 minutes).

While cuttlefish is cooking, blanch the fava beans in boiling water for 3 minutes and drain. Add the beans to the cuttlefish and cook, uncovered, 10 minutes more. Serve hot, sprinkled with herbs.

WHAT I ATE IN BARCELONA

Thick slabs of grilled bread, tomatoes, cloves of garlic, extra virgin olive oil, a rough wooden board—this was the starting point for almost every meal I ate in Barcelona, the makings of pa amb tomàquet, simply, bread with tomato.

The bread has substance, but it’s not a dense-crumbed loaf. We cut the tomatoes in half and scrubbed them onto the bread. “Start on the crisp outside edges of the bread,” said my dining coach, a Catalan native. “That starts to break up the tomato so the pulp is released.”  Garlic is optional, but almost everybody at the table rubbed the toasted slices with cut garlic as well. Then the crowning glory, plenty of extra virgin olive oil, preferably a fruity Arbequina oil from Catalonia.

We were dining at a rustico restaurant called La Parra (the grapevine), so the bread and tomato were presented for us to prepare ourselves. In some restaurants and tapa bars, the toast comes already spread with tomato and oil.

We proceeded through several more seasonal and traditional foods. Spring marks the end of the calçots season, so I was lucky to be able to sample this traditional Catalan party food. Calçots are chunky spring onions with long green tops that are grilled over grapevine prunings until the outer skins are charred and blackened. One of my dinner companions showed me how to eat them: use your fingers to pinch off the root end and peel back the charred layers. Hold the onion by the green tail and dip the white part into romesco or alioli sauce, tip back your head and chomp off bites of the onion. Tasty. A Catalan friend later told me that you shouldn’t eat calçots at night, as eating too many causes gasiness. 

Next followed escalibada, a mixed grill of peppers, onions and eggplant dressed with olive oil; whole artichokes; morels in cream as well as a sauté of mixed wild mushrooms. Then, a massive chuletón, “chop” of Charlolais beef, grilled to rare perfection and sliced off the bone. All this was washed down with a fine red from the MontSant wine district. I passed on the desserts, coffee, brandy that followed. What a feast! 

Taverna La Parra; Joanot Martorell, 3; Barcelona. Tel.: 933 325 134.

One evening, too early for dinner, we stopped for a bite, a tapa, at Dos Palillos—two chopsticks—a small Asian-Catalan bar-restaurant a couple blocks off La Rambla. Albert Raurich is the chef. He spent 11 years working with Ferran Adrià at El Bulli, before branching out on his own. The Vietnamese rice paper roll filled with shattery-crisp fried chicken skin was sensational. 

Dos Palillos; Elisabets, 9; Barcelona. Tel.: 933 040 513.

Right on the beach, in the fishermen’s barrio of La Barceloneta, is Restaurant Can Majó serving—what else?—fabulous seafood as well as rice dishes such as paella. Here, the pan catalán, toasted bread, arrived at the table already spread with tomato and olive oil. One dinner companion, Jeffrey Steingarten, who knows what’s good (he is food critic for Vogue and author of The Man Who Ate Everything), asked for some anchovies in olive oil to top the toasts. Perfect.  

Four of us shared plates of shrimp (peel ‘em yourself, suck the heads); griddled razor clams (my favorite), and tiny wedge-shell clams marinera style, with olive oil, garlic and parsley.

Then we split an order of shellfish paella and another of arros negre, black rice, served with garlicky alioli sauce. Seafood stock gives the rice enormous depth of flavor. (Purists tell me that you don’t eat rice at night either, but, hey, how often do I get to Barcelona?) I did skip the mandarin mousse for dessert. We finished with an elegant cava, Kripta Gran Reserva from Agustí Torelló. 

Restaurant Can Majó; Almirall Aixada, 23, La Barceloneta, Barcelona. Tel.: 932 215 455.

I had my doubts about a restaurant at the top of a tower. But, in chef Oscar Manresa’s tower, Restaurant Torre d’Alta Mar, not only were the views amazing, but so was the food. The restaurant is situated atop a cable-car pylon (during daylight hours, red cable cars swing across the water to the Montjuic mountain), with 360º views of the old harbor, open seas and the city of Barcelona. By day the sun sparkles on the water; by night, lights twinkle all around. (Smokers, take note—it’s a long way down for a cigarette.)

We started with cava—Catalan bubbly being the perfect pre- or post-prandial drink—to accompany crunchy, cheesy breadsticks and gorgonzola with membrillo, quince paste. The multiple-course tasting menu that followed showed Chef Oscar’s wit and skill in transforming traditional Catalan dishes into fresh, contemporary ones. A case in point: coca de recapte. Coca is a flat bread with sweet or savory (often sausage) toppings, the Catalan version of pizza. This rendition was a shatteringly-crisp wafer heaped with micro-greens (at long last, salad!), Garrotxa goat’s cheese, and summer truffle.

We continued with scallops with artichoke, potato, asparagus, parmesan and ibérico ham; creamy rice with shrimp, punctuated by morsels of tangy-sweet confit of sun-dried tomatoes; and hake (“rich man’s cod,” said Jeffrey Steingarten) with artichokes, beans and mushroom broth. The main dish was succulent loin of baby goat rolled around a stuffing of foie gras, wild mushrooms and truffle. (Jeffrey had the chef drawing pictures of a goat, in order to pinpoint the cut of the meat.)

I couldn’t resist sampling the version of crema catalana, custard with burnt-sugar topping.  Chef Oscar turned it upside down, with a caramel gelée under the creamy custard and a streusel topping for crunch. And, more cava to finish a festive dinner.
Restaurant Torre d’Alta Mar; Psg. Joan de Borbó 88, Barcelona. Tel.: 932 210 007.

On my last day in Barcelona, friends took me for breakfast to Granja M. Viader, just a few steps from the great Boqueria market (read about the market here). Hot chocolate thick enough to stand a spoon in; hand-whipped cream from the owner’s dairy farm (granja is farm); mel i mató, honey and fresh cheese, plus luscious-looking pastries were some of the tempting choices.
Granja M. Viader; Xuclà, 4-6, Barcelona. Tel.: 933 183 486.

And, a last lunch—at Casa Alfonso, a brasserie sort of restaurant. More Catalan toasts, then salad with croquettes and, my favorite dish, artichokes, sliced and fried crisp with nothing but coarse salt. Wonderful finale before returning to southern Spain.

Casa Alfonso; Roger de Lluria, 6, Barcelona. Tel.: 933 019 783.

Pan Catalán
Catalan Toasts

The Catalans call this pa amb tomàquet, but elsewhere in Spain it’s known as “Catalan toasts.” Serve it for breakfast with café con leche or as a tapa with wine. At its best, the toasts are prepared individually—the bread toasted over a wood fire, then rubbed with a cut tomato to impregnate it with the juices. But if you’re serving a party, toast the bread under the broiler and prepare the tomato pulp in advance.

Serves 8.

8 thick slices country bread
2 ripe tomatoes
2 cloves garlic, cut in half
extra virgin olive oil
thinly sliced serrano or ibérico ham (optional)
anchovies in olive oil (optional)

Toast the bread under a broiler, over a wood fire or in the toaster. Cut the tomato in half crosswise and grate it coarsely, discarding the skin. Rub each toast with a cut clove of garlic and spread the tomato pulp on top. Drizzle each with  oil. Arrange sliced ham or anchovies on top. Serve immediately.

TASTES: BARCELONA ALIMENTARIA

No wonder I gained a few pounds! In the space of three days visiting Barcelona’s Alimentaria, one of the world’s biggest food trade fairs (94,500 square meters of exhibition space, with 4000 companies showing their wares, attended by about 140,500 professionals), I probably tasted 40 different cheeses (with accompanying bread); 10 different olive oils (bread for dipping); lashings of ibérico ham (with bread, of course); as well as myriad tapas, nibbles, snacks, small bites, amuse gueles. 

Here are some tasting notes.

Olive Oil

I received an overview of Catalan olive oils at a cata, a tasting, directed by expert Agustí Romero. Four different Catalan oils demonstrated how olive variety, terroir and growing conditions determine the sensory values of the oil.

Iberolei, of DOP Baix Ebre-Montsià, is a coupage of Morruda, Sevillenca and Farga olives (no Arbequina!) from the southern part of Catalonia near the Ebro river delta, a Mediterranean climate and zone of millenial olives trees. This is a fresh, slightly sweet, aromatic oil.

Antara, from DOP Siurana, of Arbequina olives has a distinct almond taste and a nice balance of sweet and bitter. Olive trees are intergrown with hazelnut trees in this region of Tarragona. Olives from coastal plains and highlands are combined to make the oil.

Olicatessen is another Arbequina oil, this one organically grown from the inland Les Garrigues region, where rough topography and extreme weather contrasts produce an exceptionally fruity oil, slightly spicy with hints of green almond.

Oli de Pau is made from the Argudell variety, grown in the northern region of PDO Oli de L’Empordá, where hundred-year-old trees and a very modern extraction plant contribute. The oil is sweet at first taste, then bitter, herbal and intense.

At another tasting, this of “boutique” extra virgin oils created by Josep Ros, a former radio and TV personality, who is director of Jade, I learned that one sense not used in olive oil evaluation is visual—blue-tinted cups are used, so that the oil’s color and transparency do not predispose its olfactory and taste sensations. One of the four oils, Mil-ènium, made from ripe Farga olives, had a  tomato leaf aroma and a subtle banana flavor. Famed chocolatier, Oriol Balaguer, used the oil to create a sensational bon-bon, a cream center of oil emulsion encased in melt-in-the-mouth chocolate.

Olive oil seems to have an affinity for chocolate, for the combination turned up elsewhere. At the stand of Agroles, which produces the superb range of Romanico brand oils, including an organic one, I discovered olive oil and chocolate soap. Looks good enough to eat! I did taste their marvelous marcona almonds fried in extra virgin olive oil.

Flavored olive oils are definitely a trend. The well-known producer, Pons, makes a range of flavor-infused oils, some with herbs, garlic, smoked pimentón, white truffle. The orange citric oil, of 60 % Arbequina olive and 40% orange, made me crave a plate of fresh asparagus to drizzle it on.

Cheese

Tucked into the vast hall where individual producers and regions exhibited their products was an invitation-only stand called SPAIN, LAND OF 100 CHEESES, where guests could sample from a “buffet” of cheeses (actually 136) from every region of the country.  On one day I attended a special tasting of Asturian cheeses and, the following day, of cheeses from Catalonia.

“Asturias is a paradise of artisanal cheese,” said Gerry Dawes, an American gastronomy writer, who recently spent a week in that northern region visiting  small producers (see his blog here here ). Gerry suggested sipping white or rosé wine with cheese, as the slight acidity points up cheese flavors, which would be lost with a complex red.

We sampled a buttery cow’s milk cheese (“let it dissolve in the mouth, like a caramel,” said Gerry); a crumbly sheep’s milk cheese; a nutty, cured goat’s milk cheese; the unusual Afuega ‘l Pitu (sort of stinky, but good), and the wonderful mild Gamoneu, blue veined with a mushroomy aroma. (The better-known Cabrales, a blue with bite, was in a take-home sample pack.) All are commercialized by Marino Gonzalez of COASA, a firm specializing in the farmhouse cheeses of Asturias.

The cheeses of Catalonia are not so well-known, possibly because until about 10 years ago they were not widely commercialized. Some, in fact, had almost disappeared from production. Now, they are making a come-back. Garrotxa seems to be leading the pack. I once wrote that Manchego (sheep’s milk cheese from La Mancha) is the new Gruyère—a pleasing cheese that’s perfect for snacks, sandwiches, salads, cooking, anytime. Maybe Garrotxa is the new Manchego. A goat’s milk cheese (but nothing like chêvre), it is firm, creamy, nutty (hazelnut) with a slight tang. Ripened for two months, the cheese forms a mold on the rind. It’s delicious on its own, with wine, diced into salad, grilled, melted. 

I also sampled a creamy blue made from goat’s milk, Blau de l’Avi Ton; a soft goat’s cheese coated with black pepper, Mas El Garet; mild ricotta-type soft cheese, Recuit de Fonteta, and El Cremós d’Alba, a runny cheese with a distinctive bitter flavor from the vegetable coagulant (somewhat like the famous Torta de Casar from Extremadura).

Most unusual of the Catalan cheeses: Tupí Muntanyola, a caramel-colored cheese of spreading consistency. Made of shredded cheese packed into pots (tupí) and allowed to ferment, it is flavored with sweet anisette and olive oil. It was curiously grainy and subtly sweet.

Ibérico Ham

I joined a posse in search of the best  ibérico ham. We tasted our way from DO Dehesa de Extremadura to DO Jamón de Huelva to DO Los Pedroches. At the Pedroches stand, master slicer Clemente Gómez gave us a guided tour, slicing pieces from the shank, hip and rump. They were as different as if cut from different hams. Clemente said he liked best the fibrous cuts from the shank because they are most flavorful. I love it all, though the Pedroches ham was declared winner of the ham mano a mano. 

Small Bites

Date and walnut bars by Paiarrop from Valencia.

At the innovation gallery: OutOx, a soft drink to reduce level of alcohol in the blood; merengue in a spray can; fleur de sel with spices; La Amarilla de Ronda olive oil in Philippe Starck designer bottles; soy puddings; vegan cheese.

Just add shellfish—kits for preparing paella, arroz negro (black rice) and fideua (pasta paella) contain seasoned broth and rice or noodles, by Chef Munné, Barcelona.

Paella frozen in individual portions (good flavor—even had smoke aroma!) and, better than a frozen Mars bar, chocolate-covered foie gras on a stick. More frozen bite-sized tapas from ExQuisitarium (Lleida).

Bull blanc, a peppery Catalan sausage, delicious on tiny rolls flecked with sesame and nuts. 

Many thanks to my hosts, Prodeca, Catalan export promoters, and in particular to Rosalba Arrufat, Jordi Vila and Susanna Barquín.