The Hemingway Cookbook
Page 10
Bacalao de Pamplona (Salt Cod)
The following recipe is based on the one that appears in José Maria Iribarren’s book Hemingway y Los Sanfermines.
6 SERVINGS
1 pound salt cod
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 cloves garlic, crushed
2 tomatoes, peeled
1 large onion, finely chopped
1 green bell pepper, chopped
2 bay leaves
½ teaspoon sugar
¼ teaspoon cumin seeds
½ tablespoon minced fresh oregano, or ¼ teaspoon dried
½ tablespoon minced fresh marjoram, or ¼ teaspoon dried
Pinch of black pepper
¼ cup dry white wine
¾ pound crabmeat
1 cup peeled shrimp
½ cup sliced mushrooms
Begin preparation 1 day in advance. In a large bowl, cover the salt cod with cold water and let stand for 20 minutes. Drain the water. Cut the fish into 2-inch pieces, place in a medium saucepan, and cover again with cold water. Let the fish soak overnight, skin side down.
The next day, bring the water to a boil, then simmer over low heat for 45 minutes. Taste a small piece of the fish. If it is still too salty, rinse the fish thoroughly in hot water. Otherwise, drain the fish and set aside.
Heat the olive oil in a large pot. Add the garlic, tomatoes, onion, green pepper, bay leaves, sugar, cumin seeds, oregano, marjoram, pepper to taste, and wine. Cook slowly, covered, for 30 minutes. Add the cod and continue to cook, covered, for another 20 minutes. Add the crabmeat, shrimp, and mushrooms and cook, covered, for 10 minutes.
The cuisine of the Fiesta revolves around the wine, and in Navarra in July it flows freely. In the streets there is no delicacy of bouquet or concern for vintage. Volume, though, is very highly regarded. Shops throughout the town sell cheap wine and champagne in bottles and cartons. Regardless of price, the wines of this celebration must eventually embrace the leather tint of the bota (or wineskin). The white-on-white uniform of the Fiesta (accented rakishly with red sash and scarf) would not be complete without a Las Tres ZZZ wineskin hung wryly from the shoulder. The bota that Jake bought for four pesetas now costs 3,000 but remains essential. For a quick lesson, we’ll follow Jake and Bill’s ride atop a bus from Pamplona to Burguete:
Bill raised the wine-skin and let the stream of wine spurt out and into his mouth, his head tipped back. When he stopped drinking and tipped the leather bottle down a few drops ran down his chin.
“No! No!” several Basques said. “Not like that.” One snatched the bottle away from the owner, who was himself about to give a demonstration. He was a young fellow and he held the wine-bottle at full arms’ length and raised it high up, squeezing the leather bag with his hand so the stream of wine hissed into his mouth. He held the bag out there, the wine making a flat, hard trajectory into his mouth, and he kept on swallowing smoothly and regularly.
“Hey!” the owner of the bottle shouted.
“Whose wine is that?”
The drinker waggled his little finger at him and smiled at us with his eyes. Then he bit the stream off sharp, made a quick lift with the wine-bag and lowered it down to the owner. He winked at us. The owner shook the wine-skin sadly.5
SAN SEBASTIÁN AND THE TAPAS LIFESTYLE
The Market was nearby, and I wanted to buy a few little appetizers that Ernesto was especially fond of: radishes, celery, capers, seallions, pickled peppers, green cloves of garlic, cod, fresh tuna, Spanish olives, and whatever else I could find, because Ernesto, the victor of so many battles, who still had enough energy to refuse to grow old, deserved every favorite tidbit of his that I could possibly offer him.6
Meanwhile the Fiesta burns about you. Its circus burlesque charges forth through stately processions and rituals, closing with a mournful candlelit ceremony at midnight on the fourteenth of July. The following morning Jake leaves to seek refuge from the Fiesta. San Sebastián is a tranquil space, its name alone evokes golden beaches, summer breezes, and the lazy dining style of the uniquely Spanish tapas bars.
San Sebastián is a Spanish resort, so replete with local flavor that the word resort, conjuring images of mirrored and brash hotels with cookie-cutter thoroughfares twining amidst manicured greens, simply doesn’t fit. San Sebastián is home, sharing all day that certain early-morning quality that Jake found so intoxicating. It is a postcard of a caricature of a dreamy seaside town. Life is swell and the food divine in San Sebastián.
Few cities can boast the number of world-class restaurants found in tiny San Sebastián. And few Spanish cities can compete with the variety and character of the tapas offered in the dark personable bars above the gingerbread port in the Old Quarter. To indulge in the tapeo, or barhopping in search of elaborate appetizers, is uniquely Spanish, and in San Sebastián it is uniquely delightful.
With Pauline in San Sebastián, 1927.
The signs of great tapas bars are crowds of people at the bar and heaps of napkins on the floor. The crowds form before dinner, around eight or nine, and the trash accumulates soon thereafter. A stroll along Portu Kale is a walking tour of culinary bliss. Seafood is the specialty. Peering out beyond the flower garden of boats in the tiny port across to the Isla de Santa Clara, cradled in the arms of the town on the Bay of Biscay, one understands San Sebastián’s bond to the sea. Enter a bar (my favorite is Portaletas in Portu Kale), order a glass of beer or wine, and partake of the tapas. Keep a running tab in your head, and pay the bartender when you’re done. There is fish, shrimp, octopus and eel, serrano ham and chorizo. The variety is wonderfully daunting. The bartenders keep up a frantic pace matched only by the patrons, and the food and drink dance to the clamorous chatter of clinking glass and the spirited discourse of tipsy diners. This is dinner as it should be, a celebration of life, a spontaneous ritual replete with drama and comedy. When you return home, recapture the tapas lifestyle by creating your own.
THE MENU
A Tapas Menu
Pulpo a la Vinagreta
Patatas Alioli
Pimientos
Canapé of Fried Fish
Pulpo a la Vinagreta (Octopus Vinaigrette)
Hemingway loved octopus. In Cuba, he would catch them from his boat, the Pilar, and dine on octopus in wine sauce andfricasse of octopus.7 It is possible that Ernest experienced octopus for the first time in San Sebastián. At Bar Portaletas in the Old Quarter, you will find a perfect introduction to this delicacy. They serve tender pieces of octopus on a slice of bread with a dab of mayonnaise. You may also find it in countless tapas bars tossed in a vinaigrette. My alltime favorite is found at the Bar Gallego in Madrid, located just below the Plaza Mayor on the Plaza de Puerta Cerrada (very near to Casa Botín, which we will visit shortly).
6 TO 8 SERVINGS
1 small octopus, about 1 pound
10 cups water
1 bay leaf
½ cup olive oil Salt 1-2 corks
1 medium green bell pepper, diced
1 medium onion, finely chopped
¼ cup pimientos (see page 94)
4 tablespoons wine vinegar
Cooking an octopus is quite an adventure in itself. Begin by balling up the octopus in your hands and slamming it into the sink a dozen times to tenderize. Place the water, bay leaf,¼ cup olive oil, a pinch of salt, and the corks in a stockpot and bring to a boil. Quickly dip the octopus into the boiling liquid three times to further tenderize it, then cook it in the liquid, covered, for about 1 hour. Taste a small piece after an hour and, if not yet tender, continue until it is. When done, remove the octopus and cut the tentacles into bite-size pieces with scissors.
Combine the octopus pieces with all other ingredients and the remaining¼ cup olive oil. Allow the vinaigrette to sit for at least an hour. Serve at room temperature.
Note on buying octopus: If you are lucky enough to live near an excellent fish market, you may be able to purchase fresh octopus. Otherwise, try a local Portuguese market and buy frozen.
And, although you didn’t hear it from me, and I’ll deny it if confronted, the canned octopus in olive oil that you can get in your local supermarket is an adequate substitute in this dish. Substitute 2 or 3 cans for the fresh octopus.
Patatas Alioli (Potatoes in Garlic Mayonnaise)
8 TO 10 SERVINGS
1 pound potatoes
¾ cup garlic mayonnaise (recipe follows)
3 cloves garlic, mashed to a paste or very finely chopped
1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley
Salt
Peel the potatoes and cut them into ½-inch chunks. Boil in water to cover until tender yet firm, about 15 minutes. Rinse in cold water and allow to cool to room temperature.
Combine the mayonnaise, garlic, and parsley. Fold in the potatoes. Season with salt to taste. Or prepare ahead and refrigerate, then return to room temperature before serving.
Alioli (Garlic Mayonnaise)
1¼ CUP (ENOUGH FOR PATATAS ALIOLI RECIPE)
1 large egg plus 1 egg yolk
¼ teaspoon Dijon-style mustard
Dash of salt
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
Mixture of½ cup olive oil and ½ cup vegetable or canola oil
Place in the bowl of a food processor the whole egg, egg yolk, mustard, salt, and lemon juice. Blend for a few seconds. With the motor running, pour in the oil very gradually and continue beating until thickened and silky.
Pimientos
Pimientos, or roasted red peppers, are a simple, magnificent, and elemental part of any tapas feast. Set them out alone on a plate or use as a colorful and aromatic garnish to paella, tortillas, or other tapas.
4 TO 6 SERVINGS
2 red bell peppers
Preheat the oven to 400° F
Place the peppers on an ungreased baking pan and bake for 15 to 20 minutes. Turn the peppers and bake for another 15 minutes, or until the skins are black. Remove the peppers and place them in a closed brown paper bag until cool. When cool, remove the peppers from the bag. The blackened skins will virtually fall off the syrupy, tart flesh. Core and seed the peppers. Cut into thin strips and serve liberally throughout the meal.
Canapé of Fried Fish
Just up the street from Portaletas is another San Sebastián institution: Bar Alkalar. Indulge in their fried fish tapa: a generous chunk of fried hake, served on slices of baguette lightly fried in oil and swathed with alioli.
6 TO 8 SERVINGS
1 pound hake or other firm, white fish
Salt
¾ cup all-purpose flour
¾ cup cornmeal
Oil for frying
2 large eggs, slightly beaten
Cut the fish into 1½-inch square pieces. Lightly salt the fish. Combine the flour and cornmeal in a bowl. Roll the fish pieces in the flour and cornmeal mixture to cover. Pour the oil into a skillet to about ½inch. Heat the oil. Coat fish in egg wash, then fry until brown, turning once. Drain the fish on paper towels. Serve on fried bread slices with mayonnaise.
This simple canapé can be garnished with pimientos, or even cured ham, but the Bar Alkalar serves them plain, and there are no complaints.
Madrid Beckons
An early morning swim, breakfast of a bocadilla de tortilla and a cup of the sweet viscous lava that passes as hot chocolate in Spain, and the road to Madrid unfolds to the south. As Brett once beckoned for Jake to rescue her in Madrid, so does the city itself now call us to indulge in its intemperate demeanor. A long bus ride along a flat ribbon of road through burnt bronze plains, and it is as if all that is Spain passes before you. The land’s blaring fanfare announces your slow descent into Madrid: the living, breathing distilled essence of the Spanish heart.
In dynamic culinary swaths and broad cultural strokes, Madrid paints the whole of Spanish life on a sprawling urban canvas. With boundless charge day melts into evening, and evening fights the good fight only to be replaced, with regretful obligation, by morning. There is so much, and only in Madrid is there enough time to enjoy. The Spanish treasure their great city, and they make time. As Ernest wrote, “Nobody goes to bed in Madrid until they have killed the night.”8
July in Madrid is hot. An early morning stroll to the Plaza Mayor and the bountiful and cool Market of San Miguel, and the heat arrives. A bustling café offers a respite of coffee and churros, a sweet and rich fried dough. The coffee, as you may have noticed, bears no pretense whatsoever of delicacy. As you will no doubt appreciate when you awake tomorrow afternoon, Spanish coffee is potent, for it assumes that you have had a rough night.
The day is reserved for the Prado museum and the grandeur of Goya, Velásquez, and El Greco. Housed in an only slightly grandiose building, the art speaks for itself, making the Prado one of the most accessible and personable big museums in the world. A stroll amidst the statues of Retiro Park, and thoughts once again turn to food.
In The Garden of Eden, David and Catherine Bourne visit Madrid and the Prado, afterwards dining at a restaurant in an old, stone-walled building. They sip glasses of manzanilla and eat jamon serrano, spicy sausage, anchovies, and garlic olives. Afterward they enjoy peppery gazpacho and drink Valdepenas wine from a large pitcher.
Garlic Olives
1 cup small, green olives
3 cloves garlic, crushed
Virgin olive oil or brine, to cover
Combine the olives and garlic in a bowl or glass jar. Add enough olive oil or brine to cover. Marinate for several hours before using. Olives will keep for up to 1 month at room temperature or 3 months in the refrigerator.
These olives may also be used in a Super Montgomery (see page 189).
Gazpacho
It came in a large bowl with ice floating with the slices of crisp cucumber, tomato, garlic bread, green and red peppers, and the coarsely peppered liquid that tasted lightly of oil and vinegar.9
This bright-flavored, chilled soup was originally prepared in Spain for the farm workers as they left to work in the fields. It becomes a hearty meal in itself when served with wine and firm, crusty bread. You will often find gazpacho prepared as a thin blend of vegetables in a tomato base. In fact, it is served this way in the Hostal Burguete today, and it is exquisite. I for one cannot imagine a barrel-chested young Ernest Hemingway sitting down and sipping that broth. Like the farm workers themselves gazpacho must be rugged.
6 SERVINGS
2 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped, and 3 cloves garlic, peeled only
½ green bell pepper, coarsely chopped
½ red bell pepper, coarsely chopped
½ yellow onion, coarsely chopped
5 very ripe tomatoes, coarsely chopped
1 medium cucumber, peeled and chopped, and 1 medium cucumber, peeled and thinly sliced
¼ cup olive oil
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
½ teaspoon cumin
1 tablespoon Tabasco sauce
1 cup ice water
2 cups tomato juice
Salt
Pepper
Garlic bread croutons (see below)
Combine all of the ingredients, except the whole garlic cloves and the croutons. Taste repeatedly and adjust seasoning to your own taste. I often add another ½ cucumber, finely chopped, and a splash more Tabasco.
Chill well, pour into bowls, and garnish with croutons.
For the croutons, slice French bread thin, lightly fry on both sides in olive oil, then rub both sides of the bread with the whole cloves of garlic. You can either cube the bread or leave it whole, and place a few pieces in each bowl.
For Jake and Brett in The Sun Also Rises, dining in Madrid means only Casa Botín, the oldest continuous restaurant in the world. The Antigua Casa Sobrino de Botín, opened in 1725, was forever a Hemingway favorite, so much so that the next restaurant up the street has written on its awning (in English), “Ernest Hemingway never ate here.” Casa Botín may be full of tourists, but its long history before Don Ernesto secured a culinary tradition of country fare that remains unmatched. T
he wine flows hearty and deep beside a giant brick oven offering suckling pig and roast lamb. In Casa Botín you truly feast. Hemingway, infamous for hosting marathon lunches and dinners throughout Spain, wouldn’t have it any other way. We may leave Casa Botín just before midnight, yet the evening in Madrid is just beginning.
Casa Botín, Madrid, Spain.
THE MENU
Dinner at Casa Botín
Cochinillo Asado
Wine
Rioja Alta
Cochinillo Asado (Roast Suckling Pig)
We lunched up-stairs at Botín’s. It’s one of the best restaurants in the world. We had roast young suckling pig and drank rioja alta. Brett did not eat much. She never ate much. I ate a very big meal and drank three bottles of rioja alta.10
This recipe is adapted from Casa Botín in Madrid, the oldest restaurant in the world. I would like to thank Antonio Gonzalez II, and everyone at Botín, for their hospitality and charm.
6 SERVINGS
1 8- to 10-pound suckling pig
½ pound lard
Salt
Pepper
2-3 sprigs fresh parsley
1 sprig fresh thyme
2 bay leaves
2 cloves garlic
1 small onion
1 cup dry white wine
2½ cups water
Preheat the oven to 450° F
Have your butcher butterfly the pig, or do it yourself by opening the underside, leaving the backbone and the head intact. Rub the skin with the lard and season with salt and pepper. Place the pig in a large clay casserole, skinside down. Chop the herbs, garlic, and onion and spread evenly across the body of the pig. Pour the wine and water into the casserole. Place the casserole in the oven and cook for 45 minutes. Drain off the extra liquid and melted fat and roast for another 45 minutes. Turn the pig over, skinside up, and roast for another 30 to 45 minutes, or until golden and crunchy. Pour off the juice and serve it in a gravy boat. Pig may be accompanied with a salad or surrounded with roasted potatoes.