Tapa Thursdays: Taifa, Seville’s Answer to the Craft Brew Craze

Leave it to me playing on my cell phone to uncover something new in the Mercado de Triana. As we went for takeout sushi, I led the Novio down the wrong aisle in the iconic food market and ended up right in front of a craft beer bar.

I’d heard rumors of Spain upping their hops ante, and even though craft brews had caught on in Madrid and along the Mediterranean coast, sevillanos has remained pretty loyal to their local brand, Cruzcampo.

Don’t get me wrong – I love Cruzcampo, but more than the taste, I love what it means to me: sharing a sunny day with friends and stopping to take a break once in a while – but it doesn’t hold a candle to the midwestern beers I drank all summer. Taifa is more than an adult beverage – it’s the dream its socios had to bring a new product to the market, and one that surprises in a one-beer sort of town.

The Novio grabbed a 5€ snack of chicarrones, or fried pig’s skin, while I chatted up Jacobo, the founder and half of the bilingual pair who own and market Taifa. He told me that they brew close to twelve thousand litres of beer each year and have two varieties – a blonde and a toasted malt – with a third, and IPA, on the way.

The beers are reminiscent of those from the Sam Adams family, an intermediary between the mass-produced brands and the over-the-top flavored brews, all made from natural ingredients and brewed within the Triana Market. Jacobo and his American-born socio, Marcos, have plans to start pairings and tastings as soon as their new beer is out.

For more information about Taifa, visit their website or stop by the shop at puesto number 36. One bottle costs 2,20€. You can also read about Spain’s craft beer movement on Vaya Madrid!

What are your favorite Spanish beers?

 

Behind Every Plate: A Day with Insiders Madrid

The more immersed I become in the Spanish gastronomic world, the more interest I have in where food comes from, who makes it (or butchers it or cures it or raises it) and the stories behind everything I consume.

I recently spent the day with Joanna, the founders of Insiders Madrid. I was jet lagged, emotionally fraught from my grandfather’s death and not really sure what day it actually was.

Given the choice between many different types of tours, I chose the follow my nose and stomach on the Gourmet Food Shop Tour on a bright June morning. We met right on Gran Vía, the juxtaposition of old Madrid and shiny new Madrid. Apart from snacking at four stops along the way, I was able to meet the owners and operators of some of the most renowned food shops in Spain’s capital. 

Joanna has traveled extensively and worked in television for years before deciding to follow her passion: to provide luxury and off-beat tours to people from around the world. Between samples of Spanish foods like ham and olive oil, we shared stories about dining and drinking in Spain. 

Our first stop in Malasaña was at Madrid’s oldest charcuterie. A photo of owner Antonio’s grandfather – the shop’s founder – hung above the door.

I had mentioned to Joanna that the Novio’s family raises livestock and produces ham, and she quipped, “What could I possibly tell you about ham that I don’t already know?”

The truth is, plenty.

Antonio explained the way that feed and climate can affect the taste of the ham, mixing in family anecdotes from nearly a century of holding down the shop in an area of town that has seen major gentrification in the last few years. Antonio’s shop sidles up to hip boutiques and art galleries that double as watering holes.

We snacked on freshly cut ham and picos and artisanal beers brewed just around the corner.

At the nearby church of San Antonio de los Alemanes, a priest gave us permission to look around in the oval-shaped chapel that has been dubbed Spain’s very own Sistene Chapel. He excused himself to tend to business down a spiral staircase as Joanna paid a small donation. After the financial crisis hit Spain, the priests at San Antonio opened a soup kitchen, called a comedor social, downstairs to serve those affected by unemployment and wage freezes. The money we paid for an entrance went right to feeding the needy.

My jet lag must have been noticeable, as Joanna suggested we go for a coffee at one of Madrid’s most prolific cafeterías, Café Comercial. The age-old, mirrored cafe was calm in the break between breakfast and lunch, but I chose a vermouth over a coffee, convinced I’d crash after so many coffees.

The establishment is run by Fernando, a young restaurateur who has been in the food service industry for two decades, and who invited me to breakfast the next morning. Joanna says the café doubles as her office – she meets clients and food providers here over a coffee or vermouth.

As we chatted over fresh orange juice and enormous toasts, Fernando pointed out the bar staff. Most had been working for Comercial for well over ten years and could speak of the evolution of a well-known establishment whose clientele de toda la vida had come and gone. Fernando told me about clients who had been around forever, eating the same dish and sitting in the same chair for ages.

Fernando is working to breathe new life into an old place by adding vermouth tastings, language exchanges and theatre performances.

Racing the clock, we sampled olive oils from beyond Andalucía before ending on a sweet note: a chocolate tasting at a renowned chocolate bar. Joanna chose six or eight different flavors, each of which had been blended with cocoa beans to form outages flavors with hints of spice, cheese and fruit. 

As we closed the tour with a quick caña after the sugar rush, we got to talking like old friends about our shared passions: food, drink and Spain.

Joanna and Seth of Insider’s Madrid graciously invited me on their Gourmet Food Shop tour, but all opinions are my own. The tour lasts approximately three hours at the cost of 65€ per head, which includes all tastings. Purchases at the stop are at your own cost.

Love Spanish food? Check out my biweekly food feature, Tapa Thursdays!

Tapa Thursdays: Eating at a Guachinche on Tenerife

Julie’s plan had only three itinerary stops on my only full-day on Tenerife: Rental car. Teide. Guachinche :)

Eager not to ruin my own surprise, I refused to give into sneaking a peek at what this oh-so-tenerifeño dining experience was. I actually didn’t know it had anything to do with food until after we’d climbed to the peak of Teide on empty stomachs and was promised a mountain of raciones.

Zigzagging down the face of the active volcano through rollercoast roads, I actually think I heard my tripa gurgle. But the excitement in which Julie told me about these temporary, family-run restuarants blew my expectations (sorry, done on the volcano expressions and puns).

“Si esto se llama La Salú para mi madre, que descanse en paz!” 

The small restaurant’s owner, David, was showing us around the various dining rooms, all set around a humble kitchen where family members were peeling Canarian wrinkly potatoes (papas arrugás) and preparing meat at a grill. His mother, a sevillana by birth, married a Venezuelan before moving to the island. When she passed away, her family, who had always loved wine, planted a small vineyard and the guanchinche was born. The name, La Salud, is a homenage to the family matriarch.

We chose seats on the covered patio, watching the clouds roll in over Puerto Cruz. 

Guachinches began to spring up on Tenerife as humble restaurants from which small producers could sell their product. The island’s volcanic landscape lends well to producing young, fruity reds, so we ordered a half liter to begin with. The restaurants operate so long as there is wine to sell – it’s common to find guachinches closed late in the season. 

There were just five dishes on the menu, guaranteeing that everything we tried was fresh – eggs, sobresada and fries (huevos estampidos); garbanzos with a spicy tomato sofrito; chistorra sausage with fries, steak and cheese produced on the island. We ordered all but the steak and an extra half litre of the family’s fruity, fresh wine.

What I loved about the experience (aside from the price – 25€ for everything!), was the personal service we received. Everything was served hot and tasty, and we left satisfied.

Guachinches have started to pop up on nearby Gran Canaria, but the real thing is as tenerifeño as Teide itself.

If you go: La Salud is located in the town of La Orotava on the western side of the island, just east of tourist town Puerto Cruz. The address is Camino de Los Gomez, S/N. They’re typically open from 1pm until 11pm, though may be closed if the wine is depleted. You’ll need a rental car to reach many of them, or a reliable taxi service, as the guachinches tend to be set away from major cities in the north.

Have you ever been to a guachinche, or something similar? Would you eat with locals?

Tapa Thursdays: My Favorite Food Markets of 2013

As I grow more and more interested in food and its place within culture, I find it hard to resist visiting markets when I travel. When I went to China five years ago, I got to witness the fish monger chopping up fish parts, whipping them, unwrapped, into a shallow pool of salt water while customers grabbed at whatever they could. Pig feet, sheep intestines and even a sandbox full of white rice were clucked over, and the international food aisle had just one Spanish product: Ybarra salsa rosa.

I was hooked.

In 2013, I made visiting markets a must on my trip itineraries. Sampling weird and local fare, watching patrons haggle and understanding shopping and cuisine in other countries is one of my treasured memories from my big year in travel in 2013. Here are some of my top picks:

Madrid’s Mercado de San Miguel

While becoming heavily touristy of late, the Mercado de San Miguel is a stone’s throw from the elegant Plaza Mayor and a perfect introduction to Spanish cuisine. Within the glass and wrought iron structure, far from all over Spain is peddled: Madrid-made vermut in half a dozen varieties, oysters and shellfish from Galicia, salted cod from the North Sea.

For my parents, who trust their sight more than their stomachs, snacking at the tall tables in the center of the venue was the best way to try Spanish cuisine without trusting blind faith (or their fluent-in-Spanish daughter).

Florence’s Mercato di San Lorenzo

I surprised the Novio with plane tickets to Bologna in early 2013 as part of his plea to visit the Emilio Romagna region of Italy. He insisted that we go to Florence (one of my tops in travel anyway), and I made I insisted we stop by the central market. On my first trip to Florence in 2008 my Couchsuring host’s flat was just off of the mark square, and I fell in love with the smells that wafted into her airy apartment (mostly spiced meat).

We took a quick trip around the square’s leather offerings outside, bu I was mostly interested in finding a few hundred grams of parmesan and perhaps an espresso stand. We made out like bandits for a few euros, and stumbled upon a great trattoria nearby, Trattoria da Guido.

Valencia’s Mercat Central

In August, I returned from the Camino de Santiago to a quick jaunt to Valencia for the Tomatina. On my third visit to Spain’s third-largest city, I wanted to do something else than the normal tourist route of Calatrava and paella. K and I browsed the numerous stalls in Valencia’s central market, which feature local seafood and produce, as well as non-traditional items such as Ecuadorian and even British offerings.

What is especially impressive about the market is its structure, with two naves adjoining the central building, which is built in an art-noveau style and decorated with stained glass and azulejo tiles. The cupola is impressive, and the market bustles everyday with locals and tourists alike.

Munich’s Christkindle Market

While not a traditional food market, Munich’s Christmas market was a treat. I met my cousin early for cappuccino, which soon turned into glühwein and sausages as we browsed two of the city’s most acclaimed christkindle markets.

 

Christmas decorations, sweets, toys and other gifts lined the stalls near the Rathaus and on the famous Neuhauser Straβe. There are numerous markets around the city, including a medieval market behind Odeonsplatz, a children’s market (with cheaper booze prices) in the courtyard of the papal residence and an enormous punchbowl of mulled wine off of Frauenstraβe. 

My advice? Come hungry. Fast if you need to.

Vienna’s Naschmarkt

Though we mostly missed the Christmas markets in Vienna (there were two smaller New Year’s markets at the Museumplein and Schönnbrun Palace), our first stop after a bus tour was the Naschmarkt. Outdoors, nearly a mile in length and punctuated with small coffee houses and sushi takeout, you can find practically everything in its stalls.

Part of what makes Naschmarkt so great is that there is an endless stream of food, from the traditional produce and meat products, to spices, kebab and Turkish delight. My only purchase that morning was 100 grams of wasabi peanuts, but we ogled over fruit we’d never seen before and cuts of lamb that we’d never tried.

Later that morning, as we sped in a taxi towards the palace, we could see that there was a small flea market on the grounds, just on the banks of the Danube.

Budapest’s Great Market Hall

Known locally as Nagycsarnok, the central market of Budapest is part market, part souvenir store. Erected as a market in the 19th century at the end of shopping street Vací Ucta, it’s the most beloved indoor market in Hungary’s capital. There are three levels – the ground floor has produce and meats (including horse meat!); the basement, seafood and a supermarket; and the top floor houses souvenir stands and snack bars.

A must-buy in Hungary is paprika. I bought eight packs for the Novio’s extended family, only to be grounded in Cluj-Napoca, Romania and never get to meet them. Oh well, more goulash for us!

I’m working on a food-related project or two this year and am excited to share my passion with la sobremesa and el tapeo with you. For more, check out my reviews of tapas bars in Seville or my bi-weekly look at Spanish dishes, Tapa Thursdays.

Where are your favorite European markets?

Tapa Thursday: A Field Guide to Spanish Christmas Treats

Two weeks ago, I couldn’t find the aisle that is home to eggs and milk in my local supermarket. I walked in circles, desperate to locate what was needed for the Novio to make me croquetas.

The aisle where they normally resided, next to the sliced meat and dry pasta, was empty. Gutted (as was I). The following day, the milk aisle was replaced by my worst nightmare: the Christmas goodies aisle.

SPRINGTIME

If Spanish sweets disappointed me, Spanish Christmas treats take it to the next level.

As a child, we’d spend hours baking cookies and cakes to leave for Santa or hide under the tree for my dad. My Christmas memories are flavored like peppermint and fudge, not sugar and egg yolks. Spain’s sweets leave me with much to be desired, sadly, and any time I bring them for my family to sample, they go uneaten (or the sniffer dogs go insane when them smell them in my carry on).

Turrón 

Far and away the most common treat you’ll find, turrón is a nougat bar made from sugar, egg whites and honey, and are most traditionally made with nuts. The most celebrated types are hard (Alicante sort) and soft (Jijona type), though you can find them made of chocolate, infused with liquor, containing candied fruit or puffed rice or even with candy brands inside.

Recently, companies have diversified by adding Oreos or butter biscuits. I have yet to diversify my tastes to actually enjoy them.

Marzipan

A traditional shortbread in Castilla y León and Castilla-La Mancha, this almond paste-based confection is often shaped into bite-sized morsels and have sugar or egg yolk filling. It’s traditional elsewhere around Europe and is actually eaten all year in Toledo.

Yemas de Santa Teresa

So, I hate eggs, and they’re about the only food I can’t stomach. What say you, then, about a traditional Christmas sweet that’s called Yolks?!

Convent Sweets in Seville

With an origin in Ávila and made in honor of Saint Theresa, these small round balls are made just of egg yolks and sugar, then rolled by hand. The common belief is that convent sweets came about from young women who brought the nuns eggs in the hopes of becoming pregnanct, and yemas de Santa Teresa are some of the most common treats you’ll find peddled from convents. A well-known confitería in Ávila called Flor de Castilla, popularized them in the mid 19th century, and they’re now a common dulce navideño.

Mantecados and Polverones

Made of pig lard (sorry I just ruined them for you, but the clue is in the name, people!) and olive oil, mantecados are quite popular in Andalucía and mass-produced here. These crumbly cookies are often sold like we sell Girl Scout cookies, and come in a dozen varieties, like cinnamon, lemon, chocolate and anisette. Polverones take their name from dust, as these small cakes often break apart as soon as they’re out of their wax wrapper.

If you’re in Seville and love them, consider taking a day trip to Estepa, where you can visit the factories and sample until your heart’s content. About 95% of the workforce in their traditional despensas are women, and the city has earned the moniker of ‘Ciudad del Mantecado.’

Las 12 Uvas de Nochevieja

As per tradition, Spaniards leave room in their bellies for 12 grapes, which are to be eaten on New Year’s Eve at the 12 strokes of midnight for good luck in the coming year. During my first Nochevieja in Seville, my family and I didn’t know about this, so the Novio grabbed 48 grapes and a small bottle of champagne for us from his own family’s stash.

New Year’s is a holiday that’s most often spent with family, but my parents, sister, cousin and I braved the rain in 2013 in Madrid’s Puerta del Sol, where the official ball drop happens. Most of my grapes ended up on the ground, but my luck has stayed intact for most of the last five years.

Roscón de Reyes

Typical Spanish cake Roscon de Reyes

Among one of the strangest traditions in Spain is the Three Kings parade on the evening of an epiphany. The three kings and their pages ride through the streets on elaborate floats, throwing candy and small toys to bystanders. The following day, families eat a flaky pastry cake with candied fruit, called the roscón. Two figurines are hidden within the cake – a toy or Christ figure, to be given to the king (who also gets the crown), and a bean. He who finds the bean must pay for the following year’s cake.

Other popular dulces are nuts and mandarin oranges, and it seems that there’s always a box of the mythical Caja Roja chocolates. Plus, many cities and provinces have their own gastronomic traditions when it comes to Christmas treats.  Thankfully, I tend not to overeat when it comes to sweets at the marathon that is Christmas in Spain: I save my calories for the G&Ts after dinner.

Do you like Spanish Christmas treats, or do you tend to stick to your home country’s traditional sweets?

A Cooking Day in Málaga: Preparing Spanish Dishes in Andalucía

Spain is a country that’s easy to get lost in. I don’t mean the culture or the romanticism – I mean, GPS systems are absolute crap, and it’s easier to end up on the wrong road than it is to arrive to your destination calmly and on time.

Stuck in our constant chatter, Mickey and I missed our exit, had a local forget we were following him to Almogía, and ended up on a dirt road. I called Mayte, one of the women behind A Cooking Day, and she told me she hadn’t heard of the town we’d just driven through.

“There will be wine,” Mickey soothed. “There is always wine on a Spanish table. Don’t stress.”

 As it turned out, we were in Mayte’s driveway, but wouldn’t find that out before turning around again. But Mickey was right –  as soon as we’d sat down in the airy courtyard of her country house, dripping with Bougainvillea and antique lanterns, I felt at ease and over my road rage.

Mayte and Keti announced the menu before anyone had been introduced – ajoblanco, a citrus salad with cod and spring onions, fideuà and quince pastries, plus homemade bread. As with any Spanish weekend meal, we’d snack our way through the process, eating olives they’d marinated and malagueño cheese with homemade fig marmalade.

Prepping our meal

After meeting fellow blogger Robin Graham and his partner, as well as locals Ute and Sergio, wicker baskets were distributed and we went into the small huerto to pick fruit. Oranges, persimmons, figs and lemons are ripe at this time of year, and we’d be using several in our recipes.

Once back in the house, we donned aprons. Robin and I set to peeling shrimp while Mickey and Sergio pounded almonds using an iron mallet and a stone, a traditional method. As an American used to my fish coming headless and my chicken breasts cleaned, it was refreshing to know that we were truly making farm to fork food.

Mayte’s kitchen is spacious and modern, blended seamlessly into a century-old farmhouse that’s full of interesting pieces from her travels around the world. She and Keti, a longtime friend, set up the cooking classes in both English and Spanish earlier this year. They cater groups of two to just six, ensuring that everyone will get their hands dirty.

There would be blanching, chopping and stirring, but not without a glass of Rioja and a few stolen almonds.

Making our Food

First up? Kneading the bread and preparing it to rise. Mine refused to cooperate with me, and coupled with my lack of kitchen skills, I was toast. Ha. The day was a bit damp, causing the bread to need more time to bake and rise. I took another sip of beer.

We focused on the ajoblanco next, peeling away the case and chopping garlic – it was a dish I’d surprisingly not tried before. Mayte dumped everything into the blender and turned it on, and we were sipping it a short time later between nibbles of our baked bread and organic olive oil (Mayte’s recipe is below).

As we peeled the oranges we picked and chopped them, along with the ripe spring onions, the shrimp shells we’d discarded and the monkfish boiled in separate pots to serve as brother for the fideuà noodle dish that would be our main plato

Keti showed us a family secret – frying the noodles with a bit of oil and garlic so that they’d not get too hard later. As a last-minute addition, we made a simple alioli sauce of egg whites, garlic and olive oil to accompany this traditional noodle dish that resembles paella. 

La sobremesa

Nearing 4 o’clock, we  sat down to eat. The fireplace crackled as Mayte served us the salad. While I didn’t think I’d be too keen on mixing salted cod with oranges and onions, the malagueña salad was surpassingly good and felt layered, despite its simplicity.

Our bellies were happy and in good company around the table. Sobremesa is a Spanish term that refers to the conversation and camaraderie that always seems to happen around a table. In fact, the work for striking up a conversation is entablar, which perfectly encompasses sobremesa chat. I chose to bring Mickey because I knew she’d be right at home. Like me, she loves wine, food and good conversation.

As Keti finished the fideuà, we drank up, a rich Rioja that blended well with all of the flavors on the table. The noodles were cooked perfectly, creamy and with the right amount of flavor. Again, I was taken back at how flavorful something so simple could taste.

The Takeaway

For someone who loves food and dabbles in cooking, the outing was a fun was to spend a day. We rolled up our sleeves and got to see the process through, from picking the fresh fruit to taking the quince pastries out of the oven. Perhaps by my own election and in the name of art (and Camarón), I didn’t cook as much as I expected.

Mayte and Keti are personable, helpful and patient, and they make great company. I appreciated that they came up with a menu that pleased palates from five different countries and our two vegetarian counterparts, and the food was simple enough to repeat, yet filling and delicious.

[yumprint-recipe id=’1′] Mickey and I were gracious guests of Mayte and Keti of A Cooking Day, but all opinions belong to me. A Cooking Day is available to speakers of English, Spanish or French for 50€ a head, which includes the materials, food and drink, plus company. Mayte’s cortijo is located just off the A-7, right outside of Málaga. For more information, consult their website.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...