Monday, April 09, 2012

Santiago de Compostela

pulpo

As I mentioned in my last post, we came to Spain for spring break to visit my sister-in-law Amy, her husband, Jaime, and their two children, Javier and Edie. Jaime and Amy are living here just for one year. I haven't had a single conversation with either of my children since we got here, so absorbed are they with their cousins, so I don't know if they're having fun. But I am.

Jaime is from Santiago de Compostela, a small city in northwestern Spain to which people make pilgrimages. Did you see the Emilio Estevez movie The Way? That small city. There's a lot to write about Santiago, but I'll stick to the cuisine about which I knew nothing before we got off the plane and know only the slightest amount more after 36 hours.

1. A specialty here is octopus, which is called pulpo. I think pulpo sounds more delicious than octopus. Yesterday, Jaime took us to his favorite pulpo place -- dark, with stone walls, felt medieval --  for a midday snack. Sitting in a plate of oil and topped with paprika and salt, the chunks of pulpo were as tender as scallops. Superlatives apply.
brave boys, lucky boys
2. Contemplating the range of local cured meats and cheeses is a depressing experience for an American. We have salumi in San Francisco, we have crusty bread, and we have local cheeses, but not nearly as many, and not nearly as good, and we make a noisy fuss over all of it. Here they seem to take it for granted. You go to a bar in Santiago for a snack and they bring out a plate of 6 different kinds of cured pork and 6 different kinds of cheese. Then you go to another bar, a humbler bar, and they bring you yet another kind of local cheese. And then at the free hotel breakfast, there's another kind of cheese -- the soft white tetilla cheese -- plus the local almond cake, fresh orange juice, and croissants. I'm really having to pace myself.

3. Jaime's parents live on an idyllic little farm in the countryside just outside Santiago and they hosted us for Easter. Fruit trees in full flower, camellias, rhododendrons, a pool, a wisteria arbor, grape vines which produce the grapes from which Jaime's father makes wine, etc. I mean, this is Frances Mayes material. The meal, prepared by Jaime's mother, began with his father's special sherry and ended with coffee spiked with a neighbor's homemade aguardiente. In between there was wine. But it wasn't at all drunk-making because it was served in such modest portions and with food.

To start, there were big rectangular empanadas, one filled with tuna, one with tiny, tiny scallops.
I think I could make this.
Then there was  meat rolled around a stuffing of egg and ham and served with potatoes and peas.

I'm not sure I could make this.
Dessert consisted of delicious pastries, all but one type baked by Jaime's mother.

We really overdo the chocolate in the U.S.
I got a recipe for the fantastic cookies at top, which you can't really see. They're called melindres and are crispy glazed donut-shaped biscuits spiked with anis. I've never cooked from a recipe written by hand in Spanish. Having studied this one, I foresee challenges.

Over lunch, Jaime's parents were enthusing about a Galician specialty called lampreia, a parasitic eel-like creature that is cooked in a sauce of its own blood and various other ingredients, like chocolate. To quote the blogger whose account I just read and linked to: "There is something tribal and somewhat barbaric about eating lampreia. Faced with lampreia in blood sauce you should earn a medal just for trying it. This ominous looking dish is not dissimilar to a rattlesnake cooked in squid ink. It has the texture of monkfish and the livery funk of grilled shad roe."

I don't know. Maybe if we stumble across it, I'll try it. But I'm not going to bring it up.

It's a cliche to rhapsodize about Mediterranean countries, the civilized lifestyle and the food and wine and traditions and I don't love it when other people do it, so I'm going to stop right now.

I think they're too old for the Easter bunny, but he doesn't.

11 comments:

  1. So envious! Take some photos of the meat platters too!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Oh, rhapsodize all you like, after all I am traveling to Spain vicariously through you. It all looks fantastic! I have never had octopus that was so tender, but I like octopus. I think we overdo chocolate here as well. I like my chocolate of high quality and straight up. For example, I think cheesecake and chocolate are wonderful; chocolate cheesecake, not so much. Uh, I don't think I would want to eat a lamprey either. I remember the pictures of them from my biology textbook in college. Keep us posted on your adventures!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Rhapsodize away, and don't leave anything out!!!! I loved Spain but didn't go to people's homes to socialize. I did meet people and got invited to hang out, but only in public.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hi jennifer. My grandfather was actually from galicia. You should get some tarta de Santiago; caldo gallego and anything with grelos.
    (The New Spanish Table has the best recipe I have seen around to make the crust for the empanada gallega; leavened and with saffron). Enjoy your trip and have plenty of AlbariƱo!
    Oz

    ReplyDelete
  5. i think you are one lucky girl to have such an exotic family tree spread all over the world.
    but you are brilliant to take advantage of it while you have kids who will still spend time with you.
    what a fantastic easter photo for your old age (many years away).

    ReplyDelete
  6. I admire your writing so much that I would gladly read anything you post. Truly. But among the book publishing, the diet, the travels, I really really miss the basic premise of your blog. I'm happy to read the other; just wish you would get back to the original purpose.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Keep on truckin´, Tipsy!

    ReplyDelete
  8. Ų“Ų±ŁƒŲ© Ų¹Ų²Ł„ Ų§Ų³Ų·Ų­
    Ų“Ų±ŁƒŲ§ŲŖ ŲµŁŠŲ§Ł†Ų© Ł…Ų³Ų§ŲØŲ­ ŲØŲ¬ŲÆŲ©
    Ų®ŲÆŁ…Ų§ŲŖ Ų¹Ų²Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ų§Ų³Ų·Ų­ Ł…Ł† Ų§Ł„Ų®ŲÆŁ…Ų§ŲŖ Ų§Ł„ŲŖŁ‰ ŁŁ‰ Ų­Ų§Ų¬Ų© Ų§Ł„ŁŠŲ© ŁŁ‰ Ų§Ł„Ł…ŁƒŲ§Ł† ŁŲ§Ų°Ų§ Ų§Ų±Ų§ŲÆ Ų§Ł† ŲŖŁ‚ŁˆŁ… ŲØŲ§Ų¹Ł…Ų§Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ų¹Ų²Ł„ Ł„Ų§Ł‰ Ų§Ų³Ų·Ų­ ŁŁ‰ Ų§Ł„Ł…ŲµŲ§Ł†Ų¹ – Ų§Ł„Ł…Ł†Ų§Ų²Ł„ – Ų§Ł„ŁŁ„Ł„ ... ŁˆŲŗŁŠŲ±Ł‡Ų§ ŁˆŲŖŲØŲ­Ų« Ų¹Ł† Ų§ŁŲ¶Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ų®ŲÆŁ…Ų§ŲŖ Ų§Ł„ŲŖŁ‰ ŲŖŲ³Ų§Ų¹ŲÆ ŁŁ‰ Ų§Ł„ŁˆŲµŁˆŁ„ Ų§Ł„Ł‰ Ų§ŁŲ¶Ł„ Ł…Ų§ ŲŖŲŖŁ…Ł†Ł‰ Ų§Ł† ŲŖŲ±Ł‰ Ų¹Ł„ŁŠŲ© Ų§Ł„Ł†ŲŖŲ§Ų¦Ų¬ ŁŲ¹Ł„ŁŠŁƒ Ų§Ł† ŲŖŲŖŲ¹Ų§ŁˆŁ† Ł…Ų¹ Ų“Ų±ŁƒŲ© Ł‚Ł…Ł… Ų§Ł„ŲŖŁ…ŁŠŲ² Ų§Ł„ŲŖŁ‰ ŲŖŲ­Ł‚Ł‚ Ų§Ų¹Ł„Ł‰ Ł…Ų³ŲŖŁˆŁ‰ Ł…Ł† Ų§Ł„Ų¹Ų²Ł„ ŲØŲ§Ł„Ų§Ų¹ŲŖŁ…Ų§ŲÆ Ų¹Ł„Ł‰ Ų§ŁŲ¶Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ł…ŁˆŲ§ŲÆ Ų§Ł„Ł…Ų®ŲµŲµŲ© ŁŁ‰ Ų§Ł„Ł‚ŁŠŲ§Ł… ŲØŲ§Ų¹Ł…Ų§Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ų¹Ų²Ł„ ŁˆŲ§Ł„ŲŖŁ‰ Ų§Ų³ŲŖŲ·Ų§Ų¹ŲŖ Ų§Ł† ŲŖŲŖŲ§ŁƒŲÆ Ų§Ł† Ų§Ų¹Ł…Ų§Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ų¹Ų²Ł„ Ų§Ł„ŲŖŁ‰ ŲŖŲŖŁ… ŲØŲ§Ł„Ų®ŁŠŲ“ Ų§Ł„Ł…Ł‚Ų·Ų±Ł† ŁˆŲ§Ł„Ų³ŁŠŁ„ŲŖŁˆŁ† Ł…Ł† Ų§ŁŲ¶Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ų®ŲÆŁ…Ų§ŲŖ Ų§Ł„Ł…Ų«Ų§Ł„ŁŠŲ© Ų§Ł„Ł…Ł…ŁŠŲ²Ų© Ų§Ł„ŲŖŁ‰ ŲŖŲ­Ł‚Ł‚ Ų§Ų¹Ł„Ł‰ Ł…Ų³ŲŖŁˆŁ‰ Ł…Ł† Ų§Ł„Ų¹Ų²Ł„ ŲÆŁˆŁ† Ų§Ł† ŁŠŲ¤ŲÆŁ‰ Ų§Ł„Ł‰ ŲøŁ‡ŁˆŲ± Ų§Ł‰ Ų¹ŁŠŲØ ŁŁ‰ Ų§Ų¹Ł…Ų§Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ų¹Ų²Ł„ . Ų§ŁŲ¶Ł„ Ų“Ų±ŁƒŲ© ŲµŁŠŲ§Ł†Ų© Ł…Ų³Ų§ŲØŲ­ ŲØŲ¬ŲÆŲ©
    Ł„Ų§ ŲŖŁƒŲŖŁŁ‰ Ų“Ų±ŁƒŲ© Ł‚Ł…Ł… Ų§Ł„ŲŖŁ…ŁŠŲ² ŲØŲ§Ł„Ł‚ŁŠŲ§Ł… ŲØŲ§Ų¹Ł…Ų§Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ų¹Ų²Ł„ ŁŁ‰ Ł…Ł†Ų·Ł‚Ų© Ł…Ų¹ŁŠŁ†Ų© ŲØŁ„ ŲŖŲ³Ų¹Ł‰ Ų§Ł„Ł‰ Ų§Ł„ŁˆŲµŁˆŁ„ Ų§Ł„Ł‰ Ų§Ł‰ Ł…ŁƒŲ§Ł† ŁŁ‰ Ų“Ų±Ł‚ Ų§Ł„Ų±ŁŠŲ§Ų¶ – Ų¬Ł†ŁˆŲØ Ų§Ł„Ų±ŁŠŲ§Ų¶ – ŲŗŲ±ŲØ Ų§Ł„Ų±ŁŠŲ§Ų¶ – ŁˆŲ³Ų· Ų§Ł„Ų±ŁŠŲ§Ų¶ Ł…Ł† Ų§Ų¬Ł„ Ų§Ł† ŲŖŲ­Ł‚Ł‚ Ų®ŲÆŁ…Ų§ŲŖ Ų§Ł„Ų¹Ų²Ł„ Ł„Ų¬Ł…ŁŠŲ¹ Ų¹Ł…Ł„Ų§Ų” Ų§Ł„Ų“Ų±ŁƒŲ© Ų§Ł„ŁƒŲ±Ų§Ł… .
    ŲŖŁ‡ŲŖŁ… Ų“Ų±ŁƒŲ© Ų¹Ų²Ł„ Ų§Ų³Ų·Ų­ ŲØŲ§Ł„Ł‚ŁŠŲ§Ł… ŲØŲ§Ų¹Ł…Ų§Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ų¹Ų²Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ų­Ų±Ų§Ų±Ł‰ Ł…Ł† Ų®Ł„Ų§Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ų§Ų¹ŲŖŁ…Ų§ŲÆ Ų¹Ł„Ł‰ Ų§ŁŲ¶Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ų·Ų±Ł‚ Ų§Ł„Ł…Ų«Ų§Ł„ŁŠŲ© ŁˆŲ§ŁŲ¶Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ų®ŲÆŁ…Ų§ŲŖ Ų§Ł„Ł…Ł…ŁŠŲ²Ų© ŁŁ‰ Ų§Ł„Ł‚ŁŠŲ§Ł… ŲØŲ§Ų¹Ł…Ų§Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ų¹Ų²Ł„ ŲØŲ§Ł„Ų§Ų¶Ų§ŁŲ© Ų§Ł„Ł‰ Ų§Ł† Ų§Ł„Ų“Ų±ŁƒŲ© ŲŖŁ‡ŲŖŁ… ŲØŲ§Ų¹Ł…Ų§Ł„ Ų§Ł„ŁƒŲ“Ł Ų§Ł„ŲÆŁˆŲ±Ł‰ Ł…Ł† ŁŲŖŲ±Ų© Ų§Ł„Ł‰ Ų§Ų®Ų±Ł‰ Ł…Ł† Ų§Ų¬Ł„ Ų§Ł† ŁŠŲŖŁ… Ų§Ł„ŲŖŲ­Ł‚Ł‚ Ų§Ł† Ų§Ų¹Ł…Ų§Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ų¹Ų²Ł„ ŲŖŁ…ŲŖ ŁƒŁ…Ų§ Ł‡Łˆ Ł…Ų·Ł„ŁˆŲØ ŁŁ‰ Ų§Ł„Ł…ŁƒŲ§Ł† . Ų“Ų±ŁƒŲ© ŲµŁŠŲ§Ł†Ų© Ł…Ų³Ų§ŲØŲ­ ŲØŲ¬ŲÆŲ©
    Ų§Ł„Ų¹Ų²Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ų­Ų±Ų§Ų±Ł‰ ŁŠŲ³Ų§Ų¹ŲÆ ŁŁ‰ Ų­Ł…Ų§ŁŠŲ© Ų§Ł„Ų§Ų³Ų·Ų­ Ł…Ł† Ų§Ł„ŲŖŲ¹Ų±Ų¶ Ų§Ł„Ł‰ Ų§Ų±ŲŖŁŲ§Ų¹ ŁŁ‰ ŲÆŲ±Ų¬Ų© Ų§Ł„Ų­Ų±Ų§Ų±Ų© ŁˆŲŖŲ³Ų±ŲØŁ‡Ų§ Ų¹ŲØŲ± Ų§Ł„Ų¬ŲÆŲ±Ų§Ł† ŁŁ‰ ŁŲµŁ„ Ų§Ł„ŲµŁŠŁ ŲØŲ§Ł„Ų§Ų¶Ų§ŁŲ© Ų§Ł„Ł‰ Ų§Ł„ŲŖŲ¹Ų±Ų¶ Ų§Ł„Ł‰ Ų§Ł„ŲŖŲµŲÆŲ¹Ų§ŲŖ ŁˆŲ¹ŁˆŲ§Ł…Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ł…Ł†Ų§Ų®ŁŠŲ© Ų§Ł„Ł…Ų®ŲŖŁ„ŁŲ© Ų§Ł„ŲŖŁ‰ ŲŖŲŖŲ¹Ų±Ų¶ Ų§Ł„ŁŠŲ© ŁŁ‰ ŁŲµŁ„ Ų§Ł„ŲµŁŠŁ Ł†ŲŖŁŠŲ¬Ų© Ł„Ų“ŲÆŲ© Ų§Ł„Ų­Ų±Ų§Ų±Ų© Ų§Ł„ŲŖŁ‰ ŲŖŲøŁ‡Ų± Ų§Ł„ŲŖŲ“ŁˆŁ‡Ų§ŲŖ ŁŁ‰ Ų§Ł„Ł…ŲØŲ§Ł†Ł‰ ، ŲØŲ§Ł„Ų§Ų¶Ų§ŁŲ© Ų§Ł„Ł‰ Ų§Ł† Ł„ŲÆŁŠŁ†Ų§ Ų®ŲÆŁ…Ų§ŲŖ Ų§Ł„Ų¹Ų²Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ł…Ų§Ų¦Ł‰ Ł…Ł† Ų®Ł„Ų§Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ų§Ų¹ŲŖŁ…Ų§ŲÆ Ų¹Ł„Ł‰ Ų®ŲÆŁ…Ų§ŲŖ Ų§Ł„Ų¹Ų²Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ł…Ų§Ų¦ŁŠŲ© Ų§Ł„ŲŖŁ‰ ŲŖŲŖŁ… Ł…Ł† Ų®Ł„Ų§Ł„ Ų§ŁŲ¶Ł„ Ų®ŲÆŁ…Ų§ŲŖ Ł…ŲŖŁˆŲ§Ų¬ŲÆŲ© ŁˆŲ§Ł„ŲŖŁ‰ ŲŖŲ³Ų¹Ł‰ Ų§Ł„Ł‰ ŲŖŲ­Ł‚ŁŠŁ‚ Ų§ŁŲ¶Ł„ Ł…Ų³ŲŖŁˆŁ‰ Ł…Ł† Ų§Ł„Ų®ŲÆŁ…Ų© ŁˆŲ§Ł„Ų¹Ų²Ł„ ŲØŲ§Ł„ŁŁˆŁ… Ų§ŁŠŲ¶Ų§ Ł…Ł† Ų§Ł‡Ł… Ų§Ł„Ų·Ų±Ł‚ Ų§Ł„Ų­ŲÆŁŠŲ«Ų© Ų§Ł„ŲŖŁ‰ Ų§Ų³ŲŖŲ®ŲÆŲ§Ł…ŲŖ ŁŁ‰ Ų§Ł„Ų¹ŲÆŁŠŲÆ Ł…Ł† Ų§Ł„ŲÆŁˆŁ„ Ų§Ł„Ų§ŁˆŲ±ŲØŁŠŲ© Ł„Ų§Ł†Ł‡ ŁŠŲ³Ų§Ų¹ŲÆ ŁŁ‰ Ų­Ł…Ų§ŁŠŲ© Ų§Ł„Ł…ŲØŁ†Ł‰ Ł…Ł† Ų§Ł„ŲŖŲ¹Ų±Ų¶ Ų§Ł„Ł‰ Ų§Ł„Ų­Ų±Ų§Ų±Ų© Ų§Ł„Ł…Ų±ŲŖŁŲ¹Ł‡ Ų§Łˆ Ų§Ł„ŲŖŲ¹Ų±Ų¶ Ų§Ł„Ł‰ Ų§Ł„ŲŖŲ³Ų±ŲØŲ§ŲŖ Ł„Ł„Ł…ŁŠŲ§Ų© ŁˆŲ§Ł„Ų­ŁŲ§Ųø Ų¹Ł„Ł‰ Ų§Ł„Ł…ŲØŁ†Ł‰ Ł…Ł† Ų§Ł‰ Ł…Ų“Ų§ŁƒŁ„ ŁˆŲ¹ŁˆŲ§Ł…Ł„ Ł…Ł†Ų§Ų®ŁŠŲ© ، ŁŲ§Ų¹Ł…Ų§Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ų¹Ų²Ł„ Ł„Ł„ŁŁˆŁ… Ų§Ų®ŲŖŲµŲ§Ų± Ł„ŁƒŁ„ Ų·Ų±Ł‚ Ų§Ł„Ų¹Ų²Ł„ ŁˆŲ§Ł„ŲŖŁ‰ ŲŖŲ³Ų§Ų¹ŲÆ ŁŁ‰ Ų§Ł„Ų­ŁŲ§Ųø Ų¹Ł„Ł‰ Ų§Ł„Ł…ŲØŁ†Ł‰ . ŲµŁŠŲ§Ł†Ų© Ł…Ų³Ų§ŲØŲ­ ŲØŲ¬ŲÆŲ©
    ŁƒŲ“Ł ŲŖŲ³Ų±ŲØŲ§ŲŖ Ų§Ł„Ł…ŁŠŲ§Ł‡
    ŲŖŲ³Ų±ŲØŲ§ŲŖ Ų§Ł„Ł…ŁŠŲ§Ł‡ Ł…Ų“ŁƒŁ„Ų© ŲŖŲ¤ŲÆŁ‰ Ų§Ł„Ł‰ Ų§Ł„ŲŖŲ¹Ų±Ų¶ Ų§Ł„Ł‰ Ų¹ŲÆŲÆ Ł…Ł† Ų§Ł„Ł…Ų“ŁƒŁ„Ų§ŲŖ Ų§Ł„Ų§Ų®Ų±Ł‰ ، ŁŲ§Ł„Ų§Ł‡Ł…Ų§Ł„ ŁŁ‰ ŲŖŲ³Ų±ŲØŲ§ŲŖ Ų§Ł„Ł…ŁŠŲ§Ł‡ ŁŠŲ¤ŲÆŁ‰ Ų§Ł„Ł‰ Ų§Ł„ŲŖŲ¹Ų±Ų¶ Ų§Ł„Ł‰ Ų§Ł„ŁƒŲ«ŁŠŲ± Ł…Ł† Ų§Ł„Ł…Ų“ŁƒŁ„Ų§ŲŖ Ų§Ł„ŲŖŁ‰ Ł†Ų­Ł† ŁŁ‰ ŲŗŁ†Ł‰ Ų¹Ł†Ų© ŁŲ§Ų°Ų§ ŲŖŲ¹Ų±Ų¶ Ų§Ł„Ł‰ Ų§Ł„ŲŖŲ³Ų±ŲØŲ§ŲŖ ŁˆŲŖŲ¹Ų±Ų¶ŲŖ Ų§Ł„Ł‰ ŲøŁ‡ŁˆŲ± Ų¹ŲÆŲÆ Ł…Ł† Ų§Ł„Ł…Ų“ŁƒŁ„Ų§ŲŖ Ų§Ł„Ų§Ų®Ų±Ł‰ Ł…Ų«Ł„ Ų³Ł‚ŁˆŲ· Ų§Ł„ŲÆŁ‡Ų§Ł†Ų§ŲŖ ŁˆŲ§Ł„ŲŖŲ¹Ų±Ų¶ Ų§Ł„Ł‰ Ł…Ų“Ų§ŁƒŁ„ Ų§Ł„Ų±Ų·ŁˆŲØŲ© ŁŲ¹Ł„ŁŠŁƒ Ų§Ł† ŲŖŲŖŁˆŲ§ŲµŁ„ ŁˆŲŖŲŖŲ¹Ų§Ł‚ŲÆ Ł…Ų¹ Ų“Ų±ŁƒŲ© Ł‚Ł…Ł… Ų§Ł„ŲŖŁ…ŁŠŲ² Ų§Ł„Ł…Ų®ŲµŲµŁ‡ ŁŁ‰ Ų§Ų¹Ł…Ų§Ł„ Ų§Ł„ŁƒŲ“Ł Ų¹Ł† ŲŖŲ³Ų±ŲØŲ§ŲŖ Ų§Ł„Ł…ŁŠŲ§Ł‡ ŁˆŲ§Ł„ŲŖŁ‰ ŲŖŲ­Ł‚Ł‚ Ų§ŁŲ¶Ł„ Ł…Ų§ ŲŖŲŖŁ…Ł†Ł‰ Ų§Ł† ŲŖŲ±Ł‰ Ų¹Ł„ŁŠŲ© Ų§Ł„Ł…ŁƒŲ§Ł† Ł…Ł† Ų®Ł„Ų§Ł„ Ų§Ł„Ł‚ŁŠŲ§Ł… ŲØŲ§Ł„Ų§ŲŖŁ‰ :- Ų“Ų±ŁƒŲ© ŲµŁŠŲ§Ł†Ł‡ Ł…Ų³Ų§ŲØŲ­ ŲØŲ¬ŲÆŁ‡

    ReplyDelete