THE GAZPACHO DIARIES, FINAL WEEK

Turning the page on The Gazpacho Diaries. The air has changed. After a light rain before dawn,  today is muggy and a little cooler. The crackling dry heat of summer has passed. It’s the last day of August, the last day of my grand Month of Gazpacho. I still have a pitcher of gazpacho in the fridge. But, maybe, with the arrival of some clouds, I’m ready to move on.

I’ve served gazpacho every single day for a month. In 31 days, I made 12 different batches of the stuff. I served it for lunch, for snacks, for tapas, on picnics and potlucks. To family, to guests, to kids.

Here are some notes from my gazpacho chronicles.

Gazpacho proves to be a potent antidote to heatstroke, as Ben found out when he overheated while clearing brush in the arroyo. Indeed, gazpacho was once the summer meal of threshers in the fields, providing nourishment (bread, olive oil and tomatoes), fluids, salt to prevent dehydration and vinegar to quench the thirst.

Kids like gazpacho with chips.

After a swim: gazpacho and chips, the perfect kid combo. From left, cousins Levi and Cloe Gordon and my grandson, Leo Searl. If you are packing gazpacho on a picnic or to a potluck, funnel it into a tall plastic water bottle for easy transport.

Cool by the pool.

Cool by the pool on a lazy summer’s day. Guests George and Marja Parker sit in the shade of a leafy fig tree and sip gazpacho from goblets. George (http://www.georgeparker.tv/) is an illusionist who performs worldwide.

Lunch: Leo enjoys gazpacho with corn-on-the-cob. Why not?

Gazpacho with marinated fresh anchovies.

Marinated raw anchovies (boquerones al natural), salad and gazpacho make a lovely light lunch. What else does gazpacho go with? Serve it alongside fried fish or fried chicken, with just about anything from the grill, with sandwiches, with stuffed eggs or Spanish potato tortilla.

Don’t serve gazpacho for late-night dinners, say Spanish friends. “Se repite,” it “repeats,” meaning the garlic and oil come burping back up. Not a problem, as gazpacho is so perfect in the sunshine, that it never occurred to me to serve it after dark.

 At my house, we spooned gazpacho over grilled bread to serve with serrano ham, an Andalusian version of Catalan pan con tomate.

I used leftover gazpacho as a dressing for salad of green beans, sliced potatoes and greens.

Penne with gazpacho "sauce."

Gazpacho makes an instant, no-cook pasta sauce. Let the gazpacho come to room temperature. Toss it with hot penne. Add some sliced mozzarella and basil leaves. Or, use it as a dressing for a cold pasta salad.

In this month of gazpacho, I only regret that my own tomato garden has not met the daily challenge. I have had to buy tomatoes to keep up. And, although southern Spain is a tomato paradise, in that the real-deal, vine-ripened tomatoes are everywhere, the “heritage” varieties, the super-good tomatoes, are not to be found in ordinary markets. I had to seek them out at the monthly organic farmers’ markets or from individual growers. The best ones ever came from a guy named Ramón, a neighbor of a friend, whose has a river-bottom huerta near Tarifa. 

In the first week of THE GAZPACHO DIARIES, I gave you the basic gazpacho recipe.  In Week 2, I explored the flavors of different ingredients,  the tomatoes, olive oil, vinegar. Week 3 was devoted to gazpacho spin-offs and variations.  Hey, gazpacho Bloody Mary is pretty good! Last week I took you back in time, to pre-blender days, for a traditional country gazpacho.

Gazpacho is not always cold (see a recipe for hot gazpacho here). Sometimes it's not even gazpacho (see a recipe for cold melon soup here).It’s not always a soup, but can be a thick dip (see the salmorejo recipe) or a soupy salad (see pipirrana recipe). And, it’s not always red (see the recipe for gazpacho with no tomatoes--ajo blanco con uvas, white almond-garlic gazpacho).

I’m beginning to harvest almonds, so tomorrow, instead of gazpacho, I’ll be making ajo blanco. I’ll serve it room temperature, rather than chilled. I've just picked some juicy grapes to put in it. 

THE GAZPACHO DIARIES, WEEK 4

Gazpacho where it grows.

I learned to make gazpacho far from an electric blender. The first summer I lived in Spain, old man Vega showed me how to make real country gazpacho. Vega was the godfather of Paco and Estéban, the brothers who ran the village bar where I learned Spanish cooking. Vega had no family, but he did have a sizable plot of land in the campo (country).

“Many tomatoes in the fields now,” he announced one day. “Why don’t you come to the campo with me and make gazpacho?”

We arranged a day and got together a party. Our friend Irma, from Kentucky, contributed fried chicken and deviled eggs. Vega’s donkey was enlisted to carry Irma and supplies. A case of beer, wine and soft drinks had been carried down to the finca, a small farm, in the early morning and were already cooling in the alberca, a spring-fed reservoir. 

Off to the campo on the camino real.

 We were quite a caravan on the dusty camino real, an ancient country thoroughfare traveled by people, donkeys and goats. It was a steep downhill trek.

At the finca we cooled off in the chilly alberca and enjoyed a beer in the deep shade of a huge carob tree.

Vega took a basket and went to pick tomatoes, peppers and cucumbers. Then he dipped them in the reservoir to rinse off the sun’s heat. He set the basket at my feet, brought a giant earthenware bowl from the house with some onions and garlic. 

Picking tomatoes in the huerta (field).

Washing the tomatoes in the irrigation reservoir.

With a knife Vega proceeded to chunk a lot of bread into the bowl and moistened it with a little water. He crushed the garlic on a stone and added it to the bread. He cut up tomatoes into the bowl, mashing them as he went. Next came olive oil poured from a jug which was stored in a shed. We all helped dice up the cucumbers, peppers and some onion into the bowl.

That's me, on the left, adding spring water to the gazpacho.

Serving gazpacho where it grows.

 (The above photos, by David Searl, were copied from an article I wrote in August, 1968, in Lookout magazine.)

Garden tomatoes for country gazpacho.

At long last, I have tomatoes, peppers and cukes from my own garden, so I am recreating that rustic, peasant gazpacho. These tomatoes—I think they are the esteemed variety, huevo de toro, similar to those called “beef heart,” only named for a different part of the bull’s anatomy—have tough skins that can be peeled off easily.

I crushed 3 cloves of garlic in a wooden bowl using a wooden pestle. I soaked stale country bread (6-8 ounces) in water until softened, then squeezed it out and mashed it up with the garlic. I stirred in about ½ cup extra virgin olive oil, creating a thick paste.

Chop or grate tomatoes into bread-oil mixture.

I chopped the peeled tomatoes (about 2 pounds) and mashed them into the garlic-bread-olive oil paste in the bowl. If you don’t have tomatoes that are easily peeled, you could grate the tomatoes into the bowl, discarding the skins.

Add chopped or grated tomato pulp.

Add chopped peppers, onions and cucumbers.

 I added about 1 teaspoon of salt and 3 tablespoons of fresh lemon juice, ¼ cup each of finely diced cucumber, green pepper and onions and 1 cup very cold water.

  Thick, chunky country gazpacho, ready to serve. No fridge or blender required. The perfect meal on a hot August day in Andalusia.

THE GAZPACHO DIARIES, WEEK 3

Serrano ham and sweet melon top gazpacho.

Let the variations begin! If you’ve read the previous two entries about gazpacho, you might surmise that I am a stickler for tradition. Gazpacho is not just another name for “cold soup.” It’s a very particular Andalusian dish, almost a category by itself. “Liquid salad” is another way to think of gazpacho.

It isn’t always made with tomatoes (there are authentic white and green gazpachos), but it definitely contains olive oil and, except for the bread, is, basically, all raw.

Classic accompaniments.

In a restaurant presentation, gazpacho typically comes accompanied by little bowls of chopped cucumbers, green peppers, onions, tomatoes and bread crumbs. Each person adds what he or she likes to the gazpacho. But other toppings are admissible! Chopped melon, apples, pears, grapes are all acceptable, the sweetness of the fruit contrasting with the bite of garlic and tang of vinegar. So, why not mango? Or raspberries?

This week, I experimented with variations on the gazpacho theme. For almost all, I started with the basic gazpacho recipe (scroll down or check it out here) and just added different toppings and garnishes. I was amazed at how gazpacho served for many different meals and moods.

Gazpacho with ham and melon, with fresh cheese and cucumber.

These two combos—gazpacho with ham and melon and with cheese, cucumber and mint—could be breakfast gazpacho or starters for a summer dinner. The ham is Spanish serrano ham. The white cheese is fresh goat cheese, cut in cubes.

Gazpacho with seafood.

 Gazpacho makes a tasty background for shellfish. These could be served as a light meal or as a starter. Cooked shrimp with sliced plum tomatoes; mussels with a chopped mixture of green and red peppers and scallions; and squid sprinkled with pimentón picante (smoked hot paprika).

Gazpacho with shrimp, sliced tomato and basil.

 The shrimp are boiled briefly, plunged in ice water, then peeled and deveined. The mussels are steamed open, then dressed with olive oil. To prepare the squid, cut the body pouches open lengthwise and place flat on a cutting board, skin side down. With a sharp knife, score the squid in a crosshatch, without cutting all the way through. Cut the squid into 2-inch pieces. Drop them and the tentacles in boiling water for 30 seconds. Drain and refresh in cold water.

Avocado and jalapeño add a Latin flavor.

Topped with buttery chunks of avocado, chopped onion and red and green pepper for crunch, sliced jalapeño for heat and cilantro leaves for an earthy herbal touch, this gazpacho takes on a Latin flavor. While chile would never appear in authentic Andalusian gazpacho, this is a permutation worth trying. I served it as a starter before charcoal-grilled pork chops.

Gazpacho with no bread.

Gazpacho with no bread? Maybe you want it gluten-free or all raw or low in carbs.  Martha Rose Shulman writing in the New York Times proposed a no-bread gazpacho recipe  that is a basic gazpacho—minus the bread. However, it is the bread-olive oil emulsion that gives gazpacho that wonderful creamy texture.

Here’s a no-bread alternative. The egg-oil emulsion gives this gazpacho a silky texture (but, notice how it is pinkish in color rather than orangy-red as in gazpacho with bread). I used crunchy fried bread crumbs (or not!), almonds and diced pear for contrast. I added no vinegar to this gazpacho, as the tomatoes without bread were tangy enough on their own. I used delicate Arbequina olive oil for this gazpacho. I used an immersion blender and put the ingredients in a bowl to make it easier to beat in the tomatoes.

(Another sort of no-bread gazpacho is made with agar-agar as a thickener. I haven’t tried that recipe.)

No-Bread Gazpacho

(This recipe uses raw egg.)

1  large egg
1 clove garlic
½ to ¾ cup extra virgin olive oil
½ teaspoon salt
4 cups tomatoes, pureed and sieved
Garnishes, as desired: croutons of fried bread, toasted almonds, diced pears

Place the egg and garlic in blender and whirl until garlic is chopped. With the blender running, add oil in a slow stream until the mixture thickens (may require up to ¾ cup of oil). Beat in the salt and slowly add 1 cup of the sieved tomatoes. Gradually beat in the remaining tomatoes. Chill the gazpacho.

Serve the gazpacho garnished as desired.

Bloody Mary with gazpacho and Sherry.

“What about using gazpacho for a Bloody Mary?” OK, let’s try it! I used the basic gazpacho recipe, with bread, but  without diluting with water. I substituted 2 tablespoons lemon juice for the vinegar. In tall glasses filled with ice, I mixed the gazpacho (4 fluid ounces) with dry fino Sherry (2 ounces) and stirred a dash of Tabasco into each glass. Very refreshing, revitalizing. I think I like this Bloody Mary—or is it a María Sangría?—for sundowners rather than brunch. We also tried it using Pale Cream from Montilla-Moriles, a slightly sweet fortified wine and liked that too. Have not tried it with vodka.

Icy gazpacho granizado (granita). Very refreshing!

“Can I freeze leftover gazpacho?” a friend asked me. “I dunno, never tried it.” So I tried it. Except, instead of thawing and reconstituting the original gazpacho, I turned it into ice cream! Gazpacho sorbete or granizado (granita).

I again started with the basic gazpacho recipe, with bread, adding 1 teaspoon sugar to the mix. Instead of vinegar, I used “sour grapes,” verjuice, unripe grapes, pureed with 2 pounds of tomatoes. I used only ¼ cup of extra virgin olive oil. I put the bowl of gazpacho in the freezer. When it was partially frozen, I used the immersion blender to whip it smooth, then let it freeze until solid.

The frozen gazpacho needs to soften at room temperature for a few minutes. Then, use an ice cream scoop dipped in hot water to scoop it, or a fork to scrape it for granizado (Spanish for granita). Sliced black olives made a good topping. I bet black caviar would really pop on frozen gazpacho. Kernels of fresh corn? I bet I can spin off some more variations.

Gazpacho sorbet with black olives.