RICE IN A SKILLET FOR SAN RAFAEL DAY

I once arrived in Córdoba on a fine day in October, to find it was a local holiday, the feast of San Rafael (October 24). The whole town closed up shop and headed for the hills for a midday cookout. The favorite dish for San Rafael day is perol de arroz, rice cooked, not in a flat paella pan, but in a deep two-handled frying pan, over a fire of thyme, rosemary, wild oak and olive. And, unlike paella, the perol contains no seafood, only meat such as rabbit, chicken, pork and sausage.

Family and friends gather round while the rice cooks, then everybody eats from the same pan—cucharón y paso atrás—spoonful and step back.

The ruins of Medina Azahara, a Moorish palace, outside of Córdoba.

In actuality, as urban areas have spread, the open campo, or countryside, is no longer an easy walk from town. When I visited the ruins of Medina Azahara, a fabulous Moorish palace outside of Córdoba, I was amused to see signs posted in the adjoining fields: prohibido los peroles--“prohibited to cook rice in perol here,” because it was private property.

Cook over a wood fire--or in the kitchen.

I decided this would be a fine dish to serve my family and neighbors for Sunday lunch in my campo. Actually, I cooked it in the kitchen, not outdoors. Everybody enjoyed it—except the 11-year-old, who refused to eat the rabbit. He had been cavorting with bunnies just the day before and eating them was beyond the pale.

Add any vegetables you like. Asparagus and mushrooms are usual ones. I used green beans as well as asparagus, because my garden is overrun with beans right now.

Spanish cooks don’t usually use real saffron for their rice dishes, but a powdered yellow coloring. I like real saffron plus I add some pimentón (paprika), not smoked, for added color.

A perol, made of rolled steel, is lightweight and easy to manage over a wood fire. In the kitchen, use a flat-bottomed wok or any deep skillet. The rice should stay meloso, juicy, rather than dry like paella. If possible, use Bomba variety of medium-short-grained rice, as it doesn’t “flower” and overcook as readily as ordinary paella rice.

Córdoba wine, fino from the D.O. region, Montilla-Moriles, goes into the rice. If not available, use dry Sherry or white wine. It’s perfectly acceptable to drink Montilla right through the meal. Or, with rabbit, serve red, white or rosé! It's a "white" meat, farm-raised, so it's not gamy.

Rice cooked in a deep skillet, with rabbit, pork, mushrooms, beans and asparagus.

Rice in a Skillet, Córdoba Style

Arroz en Perol, a la Cordobesa

Serves 6.

2 pounds rabbit or chicken, cut in 6 serving pieces
Salt and pepper¼ cup olive oil
8 ounces pork, cut in 1-inch cubes
½ cup chopped onion
1 cup sliced mushrooms
1/3 cup chopped green pepper
3 cloves chopped garlic
Red pepper flakes (optional)
1 cup diced tomato
Sprig of fresh thyme or crumbled dry thyme
¼ cup chopped parsley
1 bay leaf
1 cup chopped asparagus
¼ cup fino Montilla-Moriles
5 cups chicken broth or water
2 cups Spanish medium-short grain rice
¼ teaspoon saffron threads, crushed, and/or yellow food coloring

Season the rabbit or chicken with salt and pepper. Heat the oil in a deep skillet and put in the meat. Brown it very slowly, then remove. (It may be necessary to do this in two batches.)

Add the pork cubes, onion, mushrooms, green pepper, garlic and red pepper flakes, if using. Continue stirring and browning the meat.

Add the tomato and continue cooking on a medium heat. Return the rabbit pieces to the pan. Add the herbs, asparagus and the fino wine. Bring to a boil, then add the broth or water. Bring to a boil and stir in the rice.

Mix the saffron and/or yellow food coloring into 3 tablespoons of water. Dribble it into the rice and stir to combine.

Cook on a high heat for 6-7 minutes. Then lower the heat and cook 14-15 minutes more, without stirring, until most of the liquid is absorbed and rice is done. Let set 5-10 minutes before serving.

LET THE OLIVE PICKING BEGIN

Me, picking olives. (Photo by Ben Searl)

A good rain this week has fattened the olives on my trees. The local olive mill has opened the 2015 campaign. Time to start the picking!

I am reading with enormous interest Virgin Territory, Exploring the World of Olive Oil, by Nancy Harmon Jenkins (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt; 2015). Forty years ago she bought an abandoned farm high up in the hills of eastern Tuscany, (Italy) near the border with Umbria. A dozen or so abandoned olive trees came with the property. She eventually added 150 young trees and now makes superb green-gold, Tuscan extra-virgin.

Nancy’s experiences discovering olive oil roughly parallel my own. I bought my hillside land in southern Spain about 40 years ago too. The olive grove consists of only 20 trees, so the yield is never enough to bring home my “own” oil. At the mill, I exchange my olives for new oil. But, like Nancy, I am a dedicated convert to extra virgin olive oil.

Virgin Territory tells the olive oil story—the history and mythology, how olives are cultivated and how the oil is produced, how quality is affected at every step of its production, the health aspects—but it is told from Nancy’s personal perspective, as she grows her trees, picks them and takes the olives to the mill (coming home to prepare Tuscan Bean and Farro Soup for the Olive Harvest).

“The thrill of that first real harvest, and every harvest since, did more than anything else to teach me about olive oil,” writes Nancy Jenkins. “There is nothing in my copious library of aromas and flavors that can match the first taste of our new oil as it flows from our own crushed olives.

“In the end it’s worth it. In 2012 we brought home 120 beautiful liters of unfiltered oil, golden green with flashes of deeper color, so highly perfumed that I felt like rubbing it on my arms, dabbing it behind my ears, and drinking it. I got my first real taste of the new oil by lavishly slopping some of it over a slice of bread that had been toasted over an open fire and rubbed with a cut clove of garlic.”

Virgin Territory describes olive oil production in Spain, Italy and other Mediterranean countries. Nancy makes the point that, until recent years, the quality of oil in those countries was generally pretty terrible, “rancid and fusty,” because of the manner of picking, storing and milling.

 “Our labor, like that of most producers of premium olive oil, is all by hand.” She offers a lot of detail about how time of harvest affects flavor and notes that quality oil invariably comes from early-harvest olives.

Oven-Braised Artichokes, a recipe from Virgin Territory (photo by Penny de los Santos).

Describing the process by which olive oil is produced, the author explains what determines the quality of an extra-virgin olive oil: Time, meaning speed in harvesting, transporting and milling, and temperature of milling (preferably below 27ºC / 80ºF). She is partial to the modern continuous-cycle milling over the traditional crush-and-press system, as it exposes olive pulp to less light, heat and atmosphere, the enemies of high-quality olive oil.

In the chapter “What is Extra-Virgin Anyway and Why Should You (or I) Care?” Nancy gets down to definition (oil extracted from olives solely by mechanical or other physical means) and what it means in practical terms. Fruitiness, bitterness, and pungency—professional tasters, she says, recognize many different flavors, most of which are positive traits in extra-virgin oils.

Flavor in olive oil is an ever-changing, ever-intriguing subject. And, the best way to experience it is through tasting a gamut of four to six oils. She tells you how to set up your own olive oil tasting—way more than just dipping bread in saucers of oil!

Although more high-quality olive oil is available today, Nancy states, there is still “a vast ocean of bad and even fraudulent oil.”

The best solution to the problem of fraudulent oil, Nancy says, is education—of consumers, importers, shopkeepers, chefs, restaurateurs and every other link in the long distribution chain. Consumers need to understand what good, fresh olive oil tastes like. “Just as you would return rotten apples or corked wine, so should you return rancid olive oil to the place where you bought it and demand a refund or a replacement.”

The book offers sound advice on how to choose oil, what to look for on labels. Despite antioxidant polyphenols, olive oil is extremely fragile, subject to deterioration from heat and light exposure.

The first third of the Virgin Territory is devoted to the olive oil story, past, present and future; mythology and actuality. The remainder is filled with terrific recipes. Nancy, who has lived and traveled extensively in Spain, includes a smattering of Spanish recipes. Gazpacho, the Andalusian showcase for olive oil, opens the Soups chapter.

How do you cook with extra-virgin olive oil? Fearlessly! Generously!

She is out to lay low that myth, that extra-virgin has a smoke point too low for cooking. “It cannot be stated often enough or loudly enough: the smoke point of extra-virgin olive oil is not low. (between 380ºF and 410ºF). That is not a low smoking point.” Yes, you can deep-fry at between 350º and 365ºF. Oh, and I do!

Some of the recipes are already favorites that I cook over and over. Tapenade, falafel, shrimp tortillitas, pistou, risotto, tabbouleh, fish in saffron-almond sauce, muhammara (Turkish pepper and walnut sauce). Some I look forward to trying—Turkish Lentil and Bulgur Soup with Chile-Mint Garnish; Oven-Roasted Winter Squash with Pancetta and Rosemary; Potato and Caper Salad from the Island of Pantelleria; North African Seafood Tagine (good recipe to use my preserved lemons).

The only quibble I have with Nancy’s recipes is over her rendition of tortilla española, which she calls “Spain’s greatest gastronomic achievement.” Her recipe is traditional, calling for sliced potatoes to be fried in a large quantity of extra virgin olive oil. But she calls for “your black cast-iron skillet or similar heavy-duty frying pan.” Later she says to “flip the pan over,” to invert the tortilla onto a plate. I cannot imagine most cooks could flip a cast-iron skillet! I use a light-weight no-stick skillet or an old-fashioned one of thin rolled steel.   

Most of the recipes come from Mediterranean kitchens, where cooks and chefs have been using olives and olive oil for thousands of years. But she includes some from elsewhere in the world, such as chicken curry from India or southern fried chicken from the US, just to prove that you don’t have to have a Mediterranean grandmother to cook with olive oil.

From so many great recipes, I chose one for cake! I don’t have a single olive-oil cake in my repertoire, and Nancy offers four different ones. I chose a quince cake—for quinces are in season as olives are ripening.

Quince cake is topped with a spiced honey syrup.

Quince and Ginger Olive Oil Cake

This recipe is from Virgin Territory by Nancy Harmon Jenkins. I have added my own kitchen notes in italic. The fine photos in the book are by Penny de los Santos. The photos of the quince cake here are mine.

This recipe, writes Nancy Harmon Jenkins, was inspired by one developed by her friend Patricia Shea, an artist and passionate baker who lives in Belfast, Maine. The quinces can be prepared several days in advance.

Makes 8 to 10 servings

Quinces.

For the quinces
1 lemon
1 pound quinces (about 3 medium quinces)
½ cup sugar
½ cup honey
1 (1-to 2-inch) piece freshy ginger, peeled and very thinly sliced
1 teaspoon ground cardamom, preferably freshly ground

For the cake:
Unsalted butter, for greasing the pan
2 cups cake flour, unbleached if available
2 teaspoons ground ginger
1 teaspoon ground cardamom
1 teaspoon baking powder
Pinch of salt
½ cup olive oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
½ cup Greek-style yogurt

To make the quinces: Grate the zest of the lemon and set aside. Cut the lemon in half and add the juice of half the lemon to a bowl of cool water to make acidulated water for the quinces—it will keep them from turning brown.

Sliced quince.

Peel and core the quinces and slice all but one of them into wedges. As you finish, add the quince wedges to the acidulated water. Chop the final quince into small pieces and add to the acidulated water. This will be mixed into the cake batter.

Kitchen notes: Perhaps my Spanish quinces are a different variety, for two medium ones weighed more than 1 pound. I decided to slice them both, then, after placing the slices in the bottom of the cake pan, chop the remaining for incorporating into the cake batter. I also found that the quinces turned brown in the acidulated water but lightened again when cooked in the honey syrup.

Once all the quinces are sliced or chopped, combine the sugar, honey, ginger, and cardamom in a saucepan with the lemon zest and the juice of the second lemon half. Add 2 ½ cups water, bring to a simmer, and add all the quince, both sliced and chopped. Cover and simmer the quince for about 20 minutes, or until they are tender all the way through. Remove the quince from the syrup and set aside, separating the chopped pieces from the slices. Boil down the syrup until it is thick and syrupy. This can be done well ahead of time. Refrigerate both the quince and the syrup if you’re going to keep them longer than a couple of hours.

Notes: The recipe didn’t specify how long to cook the syrup or what the consistency should be. I boiled it 20 minutes (reduced to ¾ cup).

To make the cake: Preheat the oven to 325ºF.

Place sliced quince in pan.

Butter the bottom and sides of a 9-inch springform pan. Line the bottom with parchment paper and butter the paper. Arrange the slices of quince in a pattern over the bottom of the cake pan.

Notes: The author says butter is best for greasing pans because it sticks to the sides of the pan better. But, I’m not buying butter just to grease a cake pan and find olive oil works just fine, whether brushed on or applied with fingers.

Sift together in a bowl the flour, ginger, cardamon, baking powder and salt.

Beat the eggs and egg yolk briefly in another bowl. Beat in the sugar, a little at a time, until the mixture is fluffy, then beat in the oil and vanilla. Using a spatula, fold in a few tablespoons of the flour mixture and the yogurt. Then fold in the chopped quince and the rest of the flour mixture.

Spoon the cake mixture over the quince slices, transfer the cake pan to the oven and bake for 40 to 50 minutes, until the cake is golden on top and pulling away from the sides of the pan.

Notes: At 325ºF, in my oven, the cake needed 60 minutes to bake.

Remove the cake from the oven and set on a wire rack to cool slightly, then invert it onto a serving platter. Remove the paper from the bottom (now the top), leaving the quince slices in place. If the reserved quince syrup hass gelled, set it over very low heat until it loosens, then spoon it over the top of the cake, letting it dribble down the sides, to make a glaze.

Olive oil makes a moist cake with quince topping.

Whipped cream? Or, maybe Greek yogurt sweetened with honey to go with the cake.

MELT DOWN!

A lightening strike took out my computer and router! I got a new router for Wi-Fi connect and I've resurrected an old, old computer, just in time for a weekly blog post. (A week of trying to work on a smartphone has exhausted me!) But I need to decide what's next. Replace the motherboard of the damaged PC or buy a new computer? 

Although we had a power cut, no other appliances were damaged. Nevertheless, I decided to cook off some of the contents of the freezer--three packets of monkfish heads and bones. Cooler weather makes soup an appetizing possibility now. And, a cache of almonds made me think of sopa de rape, monkfish soup.

A creamy seafood bisque thickened with almonds.

This version is a creamy “bisque.” It’s a bisque with no butter or cream, however. Ground almonds and bread thicken the flavorful stock that is made from fish heads and bones. (The traditional recipe for monkfish soup is here )

There is a surprising amount of flesh on the monkfish carapace. The frugal cook would pick it off the bones and incorporate it in the soup. If you don’t want to bother with that step, just add chunks of raw fish to the soup. Shrimp heads and shells add depth of flavor to the stock. If not available, just eliminate that step.

The almond sauce that thickens the soup can also be served on its own as a sauce for simple grilled fish. It’s rather like ajo blanco, white gazpacho, except that the ingredients are fried in oil instead of being incorporated raw.

Almond skins slip off.

To blanch and skin almonds: Add the almonds to boiling water. When water returns to a boil, cook 30 seconds. Drain. When almonds are cool enough to handle, but still warm, pinch off the skin at the pointy end and slip off the skin.

 Seafood Bisque with Almonds
Crema de Pescado con Almendras

Almonds thicken the bisque. Saffron gives a golden hue.

 Serves 4 to 6.

For the fish stock

3-4 pounds monkfish heads and trimmings
8 ounces whole small shrimp, peeled
2 tablespoons olive oil
10 cups water
1 slice lemon
Parsley sprigs
1 bay leaf
1 leek
2 teaspoons salt

Fish heads and tails for stock.

Hack the fish heads into pieces that will fit in a large soup pot. Peel the shrimp, saving the heads and shells for the stock and refrigerating the peeled shrimp to add to the finished soup.

Heat the oil in a large pot. Add the shrimp heads and shells and sauté on high heat until they begin to brown. Add the water, lemon, parsley, bay, leek and salt. Bring to a boil. Add the monkfish heads and trimmings and cook 10 minutes. Remove from the heat. Skim out the fish heads and bones and let them cool.

Picked from the bones.

When the bones are cool enough to handle, pick off flesh and reserve it. Return the bones to the pot with shrimp heads. Bring again to a boil and simmer 30 minutes.

Pour the stock through a sieve. Discard the bones and shrimp shells.

The stock can be prepared several days in advance. After cooling, store it, tightly covered, in the refrigerator. When ready to finish the soup, heat the stock gently.

For the almond sauce and sofrito
3 tablespoons olive oil
3 slices bread (3 ounces), crusts removed
4 cloves garlic
1 cup blanched and skinned almonds
¼ teaspoon saffron threads, crushed
2 cups fish stock
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
½ cup chopped onions
½ cup chopped green peppers
1 cup peeled and chopped tomatoes
1 tablespoon aguardiente (anisette liqueur) or Sherry
1 teaspoon salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Fry bread, almonds, garlic.

Heat 2 tablespoons of the oil in a large skillet and fry the bread, 3 cloves of the garlic and the almonds until they are golden. Skim out, leaving any oil remaining.

In a small bowl, add ¼ of hot stock to the crushed saffron.

Place the bread, almonds, fried garlics plus 1 clove of raw garlic in a blender container. Add 1 cup of stock and allow to soak 10 minutes. Then puree the bread, garlic and almonds until smooth. Add the lemon juice and salt to taste. Blend in the saffron. Blend in remaining ¾ cup of stock.

Set the almond sauce aside until 15 minutes before finishing the soup.

Add the remaining tablespoon of oil to the skillet. Sauté the onions and green peppers 5 minutes. On a high heat, add the tomatoes. Stir in the aguardiente, 1 teaspoon salt and pepper. Cook, covered, until vegetables are soft, 12 minutes.

Puree the sofrito in a blender and sieve it. It’s ready to add to the remaining stock in the soup pot.


For the soup
Stock, approximately 6 cups
Sofrito (recipe above)
Almond sauce (recipe above)
12 ounces monkfish fillets, diced
4 ounces peeled shrimp
Any shredded fish removed from bones
2 slices bread, crusts removed
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon chopped piquillo pepper or any roasted red pepper
1 tablespoon chopped hard-cooked egg
Chopped parsley

Heat remaining fish stock in pot. Add the sofrito and whisk in the almond sauce. When soup is almost boiling, add the diced monkfish. Simmer the soup 15 minutes. Add the shrimp and any flesh picked off the bones. Cook 5 minutes longer.

While soup is cooking, cut the bread into small dice. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a small skillet and fry the bread until golden. Remove and reserve.

Serve the soup garnished with chopped red pepper, chopped egg, parsley and a few toasted croutons.

Garnish the soup with croutons, chopped red pepper and egg.

Saffron adds flavor and color to the bisque.