Fideuà #2: Squid, Ham, Spaghettini

For a more traditional Fideuà than before, we broke up spaghettini. Using liquid from cooking octopus gave it a fantastic depth and richness. This improvised dinner was short on measurement but long on taste.

The finished dish

I used 225 g / 8 ounces spaghettini we had on hand. To break it into short pieces, I put them into a large ziptop bag, rested this on a towel, and whacked it about every 5 cm / 2 inch with the back of a cleaver. This worked pretty well: good breakage and no pasta sprayed across the kitchen.

Spaghettini, mostly broken into short pieces

We like the Catalan habit of combining shellfish and pork, so I used squid tentacles and some ham cut into fork-friendly pieces. The protein probably added up to 225 g / 8 ounces.

Mis en place by the side of the BBQ

I knew I wanted to toast the spaghettini but figured it would be finicky to remove from our paella pan later, so I started sautéing everything else first. Olive oil is traditional but I had some lovely bacon fat lying around that would amp the ham flavor. In a paella pan on the barbecue, I first sautéed a diced onion, several shaved cloves of garlic, and some diced small tomatoes from the garden. I then added the ham and squid. My fire wasn't as hot as I expected, so rather than browning well, the veggies and squid released a fair amount of liquid: this turned out to be a good thing. I pulled out the solids and poured the flavorful liquid into separate bowls.

Next, I added some more bacon fat and my broken spaghettini. I stirred this around until it started browning a bit, and getting a little aromatic. I used this opportunity to further break the now-fragile strands into smaller pieces with my stirring spatula.

Pan roasting the noodles in bacon fat

I then added the reserved liquid and maybe a cup of juice we'd saved when we cooked octopus sous vide; it was enriched with some roasted red pepper liquid from the previous cooking and had a great aroma.  This cooked a while until the spaghettini started becoming pliable, at which time I added back the meat and veggies, and topped with a gremolata of minced orange peel and parsley. It smelled divine.  When the spaghettini was al dente, I added a sprig of rosemary, covered with foil, and let it rest enough for the pasta to finish cooking.

For service, we portioned it out and topped with a fiercely garlicky toum (my new favorite condiment) and a squirt of lemon juice. It was pretty excellent.

Served with toum and lemon juice

There were some strands of spaghettini that didn get completely cooked; I expect that they were so long that they never got immersed in the broth.  I recall the fideuàs I've had around Barcelona had a slight crunch to the noodles, perhaps they finish over a very hot flame to develop a crust, a socarrat; maybe they finish under a broiler to crisp the top. We'll work on these next time.

Stuffed Squid with Pepper/Pimenton Sauce

I really enjoy squid: it's quick to prepare, and stuffing them takes 'em to another level. We threw this together with things we had around the house and it came out rich, earthy, and intensely flavored. No recipe this time, just improvising.

Irene cooked the tentacles then we ground them in a food processor with some salami for flavor, some sautéed onions for sweetness and liquid, and an egg to bind it all. We wanted a smooth stuffing about the consistency of a pate. We used a pastry bag to stuff each of the squid -- so much easier than trying to force-feed them with a spoon. Then I sealed them shut by running a toothpick through the opening of each sock-shaped squid. It's a little tedious but not horrible for a work-day dinner.

We had some oil I'd infused with half a barrel of mint leaves harvested from the garden: we'd had squid stuffed with mint once in Sorrento and found it a surprisingly harmonious combination. So we shallow fried the stuffed squid in the minty oil until done. The squid don't take long and the filling was cooked except for the egg so it didn't need much time. Some of the filling squeezed out of the squid as they shrank while cooking; it looked like a flavorful fond so I strained off the oil and crisped up the shards in the skillet a bit.

Irene had meanwhile cooked up a zesty sauce of roasted red peppers, sautéed onions and garlic, and a healthy dose of pimentón -- Spanish smoked paprika. When the pimentón hit the oil left from the sauté, it filled the kitchen with such a powerful aroma I almost got whiplash as I spun around to inhale the fragrance. Great stuff.  She whizzed this all together with a stick blender until mostly smooth, resulting in a sauce that's more rich and thick than a tomato sauce, and much more interesting.

She sauced the plates and I burned the tips of my fingers yanking the toothpicks out of the squid socks before nestling them in their sauce.  A generous garnishing with the crunchy bits brought a further intensity and new texture to round it out.

Fun meal, and definitely worth doing again, perhaps next time with ground, spiced, pork belly.

Daily Dinner #4 -- in Barcelona and London!

2015-08-02 

It's Sunday night, late, 10pm in fact, and we haven't had dinner. We'd just arrived in Barcelona the day before and checked into our flat on the Rambla del Raval, right above Botero's big cat sculpture. And we were hungry.  It was a beautiful night, cool and clear. It would have been immoral to sit inside. We walked up and down the cafe tables on the Rambla and -- shockingly -- all were full. We finally found a 2-top and asked the cafe if we could sit down; of course. The name was Suculent; we didn't even look at the menu.  OMG, what a stunning meal from beginning to end.

I started with an anguilla -- sea eel -- that had been dried then rehydrated and grilled, bacalao-style.  It was presented in a bowl with a raw egg yolk, then the waitress poured over it a hot rich broth. Great texture from the eel, intense flavor, then turned up to 11 by breaking the yolk into the hot broth.  OK, someone in the kitchen knows what they're doing!

Irene decided to go for something more mainstream: cock's comb. You know, that red wattle-thing that sits on a rooster's head? I know, you see 'em every day. It has a profile like Lisa Simpson's head. This was beautifully cooked -- tender, a bit gelatinous, rich rich rich. Served on a slice of chicken skin that had been fried to the crispness of a potato chip, further amplifying the chicken-ness of the dish.

Next up, Irene again decided to play it safe. Pigeon with beets and foie gras. It was half the bird, a breast a leg and a wing. As is classically done with duck, the breast was cooked rare, while the leg was cooked to a higher temperature, to provide a variety of textures on the plate. The beet root were shaved thin creating a boat into which they'd layered the foie. Enclosing it on the plate was a drizzle of intensely colored beet root juice.

Chris chose rabe (monkfish) but they were out so I had to settle for a second choice: squid with foie gras. They were tender baby squid, and between each was a generous lump or rich foie.  The intensely golden sauce put it over the top; I could have eaten that for hours... with enough crisp white wine.

We had a bottle of local white wine, I think bottled for the restaurant.  It cost as much as the Aussie-animal themed things in the States, but was far far better.

We could only choke down one dessert between us, and picked a fun one.  Fresh strawberries with white chocolate mousse, and the occasional rose petals, and a few wild strawberries to accompany. At the base of the dish was a rose-water gelée, which was super light and clear tasting.

We've mentioned this elsewhere, but it brought out Irene's Tourette's, in full throated voice sitting outside: "Fuck, I can't believe we just walked downstairs and got a world-class meal!". It's true, we didn't seek this out. We finally wrapped up a bit after midnight, just steps from our flat's door, after spending a surprisingly small amount.

Our second day in Barcelona, with two excellent meals, and both almost unreasonably affordable.

2015-08-03

We can't eat like kings/queens every night. At least not out. We hit the Mercat de Sant Antoni, under 10 minutes from the house to pick up some fresh local produce and some beans that looked appealing. Irene put together a refreshing salad: small white beans, red bell pepper, endive, spring onions, avocado, and a generous glug of local olive oil and Jerez sherry vinegar. Refreshing, cooling, and simple.

This she accompanied with some bread, Pyrenees sheep's cheese, and local figs. Looks like we also had some our table wine from Rioja. We ate this on our rooftop deck, overlooking the Ravel where we had dinner the night before.

2015-08-04

While we were at Mercat Sant Antoni yesterday, I wanted to get some bacalao. Here, there are specialized vendors who handle this, as well as other preserved fish like anchovies -- different than the fresh fishmongers.  Before we were allowed to purchase a hunk of this beautiful loin, reposing in its bath to rehydrate, we were asked: when do you plan to eat this? Tonight, I answered, why? [ok, this conversation was a bit complicated by my inability to talk about such things in Catalan or Castillian. She said it would not be ready today, no way: I was to take it home, change the water at 6pm then again at midnight, then the next morning, then it would be perfect for dinner the next day.  OK, so we had the salad last night, and now we're ready for the bacalao.

I did my interpretation of a classic cod salad, an esquiexada de bacalao. I cut this hydrated and preserved but raw fish thinly, mixed with bright ripe oranges, deeply flavored cured olives, some sweet local tomatoes, and some mild bulbing onions for crunch. Doused it with good olive oil and a bit of sherry vinegar, and we're good to go. Simple, cool, refreshing.

We found a local place selling wine from giant wooden casks. We picked up a white from Penedes and a red from Rioja. Under €7 for 4 liters of wine. Not stunning, but fine table wine. The red did need a chill, as it was a bit sweet at cellar temperature. It's good to have everyday wine around. Especially when it's cheaper than soda.

2015-08-05

The gorgeous old Hotel España's restaurant Fonda had a fabulous-sounding menu degustacacion for a very reasonable price; it's a 5 minute walk from our flat, so we scored a reservation. The kitchen was under the direction of Martín Berasategui, an alumnus of El Bulli, who runs the hottest ticket in the city, the restaurant Tickets. The dining room was designed in Barcelona's "modernista" style, similar to Art Nouveau and Vienna Secession style of the same period: stunning, with detailed craftsmanship wherever you turned, from the woodwork to the copious stained glass, to light fittings.

First up, Vermut and olives; I'm really diggin' this vermouth thing, it's refreshing, not too alcoholic, and affordable. This one was very local, but I neglected to get a name from the label. 

The first starter was a raw but cured salmon on a bed of guacamole, topped with salmon roe and some micro-greens. The texture of the salmon was terrific -- somewhere between raw and cooked.

Next up was a steamed bread dumpling stuffed with a blood sausage mixture, topped with pesto and some candied pine nuts.  The dumplings were like miniature Chinese "bao" dumplings.

It's too bad we didn't get a video of this presentation, as the bowls came out with the ingredients and a gazpacho was poured over it. The base was a quenelle of tomato ice cream, an anchovy filet,  a plump ripe cherry. The gazpacho itself seemed to be boosted with something besides tomato, perhaps more cherry, or perhaps they used a local super-sweet cherry tomato.

Next up was a flatbread cracker topped with eggplant, horse mackerel tartar, and a green basil ice cream. This was Irene's favorite.

Following was a super-rich dish with morel mushrooms, foie gras cream sauce,  candied peanuts, something red and sweet and little bread cubes that we thought were croutons but turned out to not be toasted.

Next up was a bacalao (cod) dish with an Idiazábal cheese sauce and white asparagus. This was the killer dish for Chris.  In Spain, "bacalao" is usually salt cod -- dried and salted, hard like wood; it's then hydrated for days before eating. When prepared, it presents a slight funk that gives it depth of flavor not present in fresh cod. This fish didn't evidence the funk of the rehydrated dried fish, so I asked our waiter -- in Spanish no less -- if it was "bacala fresca", fresh (not dried), fish. She confirmed it was fresh fish, cooked at a very low temperature. It was unctuous, delicious.  The Idiazábal cheese did have a funk to the aroma, and Irene surmised this was the chef riffing on the funk of dried bacalao -- combining fresh fish with funky cheese to present an experience like dried bacalao: it worked beautifully.

The asparagus too was very unusual. Instead of being chewy with fibers, it had a crunch, a snap. It must have been cooked in highly sugared water as it had a sweet taste, and it had a distinct vanilla flavor. We have no idea how they got the snap texture.

The next course was the first served with a red wine. The waitress said that the "fricandó" preparation is traditional but only done with meats; this sauce was accompanying a gorgeous hunk of raw tuna. The tuna itself was the best I've had in at least a decade: I simply can not get any flavorful tuna in the States, all the good stuff is sold off to other countries. The sauce reminded me (don't snicker) of a good American barbecue sauce: rich with meaty goodness, complicated with complementary spices, and sweet with something like a raison-y fruitiness. It was topped by raw trumpet mushrooms. It was almost too rich.

Dammit, I missed a dish. Suckling lamb with green apples.  We both thought this was the least successful of the dishes. Perhaps a hunk of meat because people expected meat.  Nothing wrong with it, just not stunning like the others.

The dessert -- er, the first dessert: in the back is a cream-colored mandarin "air". This is echoed on the left with a mandarin "supreme", a segment of the citrus cut away from its membrane -- a real pain in the ass to do but classic technique. On top, there are two fresh basil leaves; a number of the dishes celebrated this seasonal herb.

Dessert #2 had a pearly white citrus cream that was silky smooth. In the center was an egg-yolk shaped thing that -- surprise, had the texture of cooked egg yolk: but it was in fact a citrus gel, contrasting texture with the citrus quenelle to the right, and fresh citrus to the front right. On the left was a granita of contrasting fennel flavors. The textures in this were really playful.

The third dessert was an exceptionally rich chocolate soufflé. Under the crust it was molten liquid, intensely chocolate-y. This was a bit too rich for me, but somehow, I couldn't bear to waste a drop. Note the chef's name inscribed in the ceramic.

The final dessert was playful. They brought to the table a polystyrene box with a lid, and when we removed the cover, there were petit fours on a bed of indoor-outdoor carpet.  It almost felt like these were misfit golf balls. Home made marshmallows in pink on the left, biscuits, and white chocolate with coconut. Well executed, and fun.

The service was impeccable, professional but not stuffy. The staff did a great job of explaining these complex dishes in a combination of English and Spanish. Each course came with a glass of wine paired to the dish. The cost was ridiculously low, given the many dishes, the complexity and skill of the kitchen, the professionalism of the waiters, the sumptuousness of the place. At the very end, the chef came out to talk with us... or to listen to us say how much we liked the meal, but we had quite a bit of difficulty as he launched into a long reply.  

If you visit Barcelona, do go. 

2015-08-06

I guess I'm crazy for navajas, razor clams, or so annoyed I can't find 'em in the States that I eat them out wherever I can find them. We hit the famous (and crowded with selfie-stick-brandishing  tourists) Boqueria early in the morning, starting at the back to avoid the crowds and picked up some fresh live specimens. 

We also got some local peppers that -- when I asked "Como se concinar, como padrones?" was told that's the way, just like the more famous padrones, sautéed with good olive oil and served with coarse salt.  I also got a big vermouth, and had this with a wedge of orange on ice while cooking.

 Hot and fast, and super simple. We're making the most of our compact kitchen.

Too bad our table outside has a food-hostile-colored table cloth.

I probably should not have combined these dishes: they were prepared the same way -- very simply with olive oil and salt. The navajas had just a bit of unpleasant grit: we had seen one vendor offering "navajas sin arena", free of sand; maybe we should have tried theirs.

2015-08-07

On Friday we went to London for our friends' wedding. We were invited to the family dinner at a delightful place, Marmelo in Leyton. Super friendly, cozy, and only open on weekends for now. They did a great job of feeding us a huge variety of dishes, with lots of veggie-frienldly mains, as well as some stunning lamb with couscous, kale with fig and goat cheese, and a sea bass that was to die for. No photos, wouldn't have been polite. 

2015-08-08

Ann and Paul's wedding and a delightful fine reception were at the the Vestry House Museum in the same town that William Morris did his work. There was a seemingly unending spread with some fantastic smoked fish, shrimp and prawns (as big your hand!), ham, turkey, various savory pies, on and on. It would have been churlish to take food photos at such a solemn event (snicker!) but I did like the pluck of this young foodie.

The wedding party adjourned to the Village Kitchen pub where we could sit outside in the delightful weather and chill, then headed next door to line our stomachs at the Nuovo Mondragone restaurant, which seems strangely comfortable serving a hoard of jubilant and more-than-tipsy friends. 

I did get a couple of pics here. I had a hankering for some rich beef and the Manzo didn't disappoint, rich in flavor, with arugula and shaved parm:

Irene got fancy with liver with "proper bacon" and mashed potatoes. Great presentation.

We've been eating out way too much this week, with all the traveling. Next week we hope to do some more cooking as we return to our flat in Barcelona and explore the other markets throughout the city. 

Smoked Squid with Arugula

We cold-smoked squid a while back and served it up with arugula which is proliferating in the garden. Irene based this on the recipe from The Guardian. 

She cooked the squid in olive oil, smoked paprika, garlic, lemon zest, with rosemary, thyme and oregano from the garden. The arugula was dressed with the lemon juice and the same herbs, a variation on a vinegarette. 

Served with some crusty homemade bread, this made a light, refreshing summer dinner.

Black Risotto with Smoked Squid

I used to struggle with risotto, and even took a class at L'Academie de Cuisine where I learned it's really about the texture. Don't worry about the exact measurements and time: get the "bite" and creaminess right; taste periodically as it's cooking so you know what to look for. It's not a hard or time-consuming dish, probably 30 to 45 minutes start to finish; this is a weeknight meal.

Using the proper rice is critical, but I've got no strong preference between Arborio, Carnaroli, or Vialone Nano. But it's gotta be one of those, that absorb the flavorful stock, retain a bite in the center, and release enough starch to develop a creaminess. This rice is available at Italian markets, but seems common in basic supermarkets these days, usually in rectangular boxes with the rice vacuum-sealed in thick plastic. It's easy to find, so don't bother with regular medium grain rice, jasmine, sticky, or basmati; save the bomba for paella.

For two people, I use 1 cup of rice and 2 cups of stock; I always end up adding more stock (or water) after I've used the stock, slowing adding until the balance between toothsomeness and creaminess is right. Depending on the risotto, you can use any stock you like: we always have fish, chicken, duck, and beef stock in the freezer; for this, fish was the obvious choice. If your stock is really rich (gelatinous at room temperature), dilute with water to avoid it developing a stickiness as it concentrates. 

I then add a bit more water before serving -- not because I want a more "al onda" (wavy, loose) texture, but because I find the risotto firms up after plating and I don't want it too firm on the plate.

In this serving, I used some squid ink we brought back from Spain years ago.  I heat the broth in one pot, adding the ink, and hold it at just below a simmer so it doesn't have to heat when added to the rice pan.

We recently cold-smoked some squid, so we used the tentacles for this dish. The aroma intrigued the nose long before the dish hit the table. Definitely worth repeating.

I start by sauteeing shallots with olive oil, then when starting to soften, add minced garlic and saute a bit more. 

Then add the rice and saute a bit: I look for a bit of translucence just like when I make paella. 

Then add the inked fish stock, maybe a half cup at a time and stir well. Contrary to myth, you don't have to stir continuously, or always in a clockwise direction (or was it counterclockwise?), or even use a wooden spoon handed down by your grandmother. Give the rice time to absorb most of the stock: it's a balance between absorption and concentration from evaporation. Add more stock when there's not much loose liquid remaining in the rice pan. In the picture below, we're probably about 2/3rds the way through --- you can see the inky broth is starting to get a glossy thickness in the middle right.

I then add the uncooked, cold-smoked squid tentacles, stirring them through to cook for just a few minutes. I ended up adjusting the thickness by adding a bit more hot water, just until it was a bit looser than I'd want it on the plate. Make sure to taste and adjust for salt, it's your last chance.

At the end, I added a few red peppers from the garden for color, plated and garnished with parsley and a gratuitous zucchini blossom we pulled off our plant.

In the top photo, it's hard to distinguish the squid and red peppers -- they got colored by the inky broth. Next time, I'd probably poach the squid briefly in the uninked stock to retain their color, and reserve the red peppers for garnish to preserve their brick-red color contrast. 

You don't have to use exotic ingredients: we frequently do a simple blond risotto with chicken stock and add some peas at the end.  A basic fish broth risotto is elegant topped with three seared scallops each. You can stir in some pesto at the end, or some grated parmesan right before serving, if it works with your other flavors. Just ensure your rice retains a bit of a bite in the center and you've developed creaminess by slow additions of the stock.