Coca gallega (Galician-style pizza)

Posted on March 29, 2013 by lisajaneroberts

A compulsory part of any major meal here is the picaeta, which is a rough equivalent to “nibbles”. In our family, one of the most appreciated nibble foods (apart from the ubiquitous home-roasted peanuts, olives and crisps), is Auntie Joaquina’s Coca Gallega, a pizza-like pasty which is cut up into squares and devoured almost as soon as it gets to the table.
This recipe is easy, although you should remember to do the basic tomato mix the day before to ensure that it has the right texture and depth of flavour. Feel free to leave out the tuna if you don’t like it, or don’t want to consume the noble fish, and (speaking from experience) it is no great disaster if you forget to add the pine nuts, although they do provide good little nubby bits to bite.
The most complicated part of the recipe is moving the pastry once you have it rolled out, but a rolling pin and a bit of flour solve things admirably.
This recipe gives you quite a bit of pizza. We had four friends staying over for the Easter weekend, and I served it with a big green salad and a plate of Serrano ham for dinner – there was enough left over for morning tea on Sunday. It’s perfect for taking along to a buffet-style party or picnic!

What you need for the filling:
1/3 glass of olive oil
1 kg of tinned tomato
1 green Italian pepper
1½ spoonfuls of sugar
5-6 cloves of garlic
3 tins of tuna in oil
50g of pine nuts
4 boiled eggs
What you need for the pastry:
1 glass (200ml) sunflower oil
1½ glasses (300ml) beer
a good pinch of salt
plain flour (as much as the liquid admits)

What you do:
It’s best to prepare the tomato base the day before you want to cook the pizza. Heat the olive oil in a large frying pan and gently cook the garlic without letting it burn. Chop the pepper into small pieces and add to the garlic, frying lightly. If your tinned tomatoes are not already pureed, smoosh them up in the blender until they are smooth, then add to the pan. Chuck in the sugar to reduce the acidity of the tommies. You now need to let as much liquid as possible evaporate, while the tomato fries itself tasty. It took about ¾ of an hour the other day, on a medium flame and with a piece of foil over the top of the pan to stop tomato splatting all over the place. Once you think the mixture is dry enough, remove it from the heat and leave it in the fridge until tomorrow. The following day, drain the tuna of all oil (or brine), chop the eggs into small chunks and add both, together with the pine nuts, to the now cold tomato. Mix well and taste for seasoning. Set aside while you make the pastry and get the oven warm.Heat your oven to 160ºC, preferably with the heat only coming from the bottom. If you can’t choose, then place the pizza down low in the oven to avoid any burning on top. Pour the beer and oil into a large mixing bowl and add a pinch of salt. Now add flour bit by bit (about half a glass at a time) and mix in with a metal spoon until a dough begins to form. You are looking for quite a soft, oily dough but one that doesn’t stick to your fingers. When it’s ready, turn it out onto a floured surface and work it lightly – this isn’t bread, so there is no need to knead for any longer than a couple of minutes. Divide the dough into two parts, one slightly larger for the bottom layer. Using a flat oven tray (about 60 x 60) lined with baking paper as your guide, and enough flour to stop things from sticking, roll out the bottom layer until it is about 2-3mm thick. Prick with a fork. Spread your tomato mix over the pastry, exactly as you would a pizza. Use it all.
Now roll out your lid; it should be a little thinner than the bottom. Transferring it to the pizza can be tricky, but if you lightly flour the surface of the pastry and your rolling pin, you should be able to carefully roll the flat dough up onto the pin and then unravel it over your tomato.
Use a fork to press the edges together and prick the top surface. Brush with a beaten egg and pop it into the oven for about 40 minutes, checking from time to time. If you find the base is cooked, but the top is still very pale, you can switch to the grill only, keeping your eye on the pizza to make sure it doesn’t get frazzled. Allow to cool completely before serving (it’s even better the next day!)

Serve with: other nibbles, or a salad and some cured meats for a main meal.

Iaia’s yoghurt cake

Posted on March 9, 2013 by lisajaneroberts

A simple sponge based on the yoghurt pot measure, which in Spain is 125ml. If you have bigger pots, you might need to add another egg and a bit more baking powder. I cooked this one last night, and it has already been quaffed by three teenage girls. I might also have had a piece or two myself.

What you need:
1 pot of natural yoghurt
1 yoghurt pot of sunflower seed oil
2 yoghurt pots of sugar
3 yoghurt pots of plain flour
1 sachet of baking powder (16g)
3 eggs
the zest of a lemon or an orange

What you do:
Heat your oven to 180ºC and line a 23cm round cake tin (spring-form makes it easier to get the cake out later). Pour the yoghurt into a small bowl and set aside so you can use the pot to measure the other ingredients. Mix the sugar and egg yolks together in a large mixing bowl, then add the yoghurt and oil, stirring until smooth and glossy. Sieve the flour and baking powder into the bowl pot by pot, stirring well but not over-beating. Add the zest and then whip up your egg whites and fold gently into the mix. Bake for 30-40 minutes (every oven is different) and then allow to cool completely before the slicing and gobbling.

Serve with: tea

Caldereta de rap (monkfish stew)

Posted on March 2, 2013 by lisajaneroberts

This is one of Iaia’s signature dishes. She tends to cook it for us on birthdays and we all love it, especially the thick sauce, which can be either scooped up with fresh bread or spooned up after mashing it into the potato chunks.

Fresh monkfish flesh is a lovely rosy pink. The frozen stuff does not taste the same, and Iaia refuses to use it. Try to buy smaller fish as their muscles are less fibrous and far more pleasant to eat. Leave some of the skin on if you don’t find it irksome, as this will act as a natural thickening agent for the sauce and enhance its sweet, fishy goodness.

Get the fishmonger to clean the fish but bring them home with the heads on, which you can then scissor off and freeze for the best fish stock ever. The cuts that go into the stew are the whole tail and the loin, both with the bone in.

Iaia swears by olive oil for just about everything and quite happily pours a good half litre into her pan to fry the potatoes. Once they are done, she siphons off about two-thirds of that oil and saves it for paella on Sundays.

What you need for 6:
About 850g fresh monkfish pieces
1 kg potatoes
2 pear tomatoes
2 onions
3-5 cloves of garlic
small bunch of parsley
50g toasted almonds
½ litre of oil for frying (Iaia uses olive)
sweet paprika
2 small chillies, whole*
750 ml good fish stock
flour for dusting the fish
salt and pepper to taste
*optional and to be taken out before the whole dish becomes mouth-numbingly hot!

What you do:
Finely dice the onion, slice the garlic, grate the tomato and chop the parsley. All of these ingredients will end up being blended, so don’t be too fussy about perfect knife work.

Cut the potatoes into chunks. Iaia has a special technique – she stops each cut about ¾ of the way through and then breaks the piece off, saying that this will stop the potato chunks from breaking up as they cook. It seems to work!

Heat your olive oil in a deep pan and fry the potatoes in batches until golden, but not necessarily cooked through. Iaia says she uses so much oil because you have to have enough to cover the potatoes so that there is no chance of them getting crushed and deformed by constant turning and stirring.

Once the potatoes are done, remove two-thirds of the oil and reheat. Season your fish well with salt and pepper and dust with flour before laying it gently into the hot oil to fry. You don’t need to cook the fish through; 2-3 minutes on each side is enough. When you remove the fish, place it directly into a wide, shallow, flameproof casserole dish, which is where you will cook and present the final dish. Distribute the fried potatoes evenly over the fish pieces.

In the same oil, lightly fry the sliced garlic and then add the parsley and onion, cooking until the onion is softened. Pour in your grated tomato and fry until you notice the mix thickening slightly as the water from the tomatoes evaporates. If you are using chillies, settle them into the mix now, but take them out before you blend! Just before you take off the heat, pop the teaspoon of sweet paprika in and give it all a quick stir.

Pour the tomato and onion mixture into a blender along with the whole toasted almonds and pulse to a thick paste. You can also do this with a stick blender, but avoid over-blending; texture is important here.

Pour this picadillo, or flavour base, over the fish and then add just enough stock to cover everything. Check for salt – fish can be tricky and very easy to over-salt, so it’s best to add small amounts throughout the process than try to rectify with a great handful at the end.

Bring to a boil, turn down the heat and simmer gently for 20-30 minutes, adding stock if you see that it gets too dry, aim for a thick gravy-like consistency.

Like most stews, this one is even better the day after it’s cooked, but it will also benefit from standing for half an hour or so before serving.

Serve with: fresh bread and your best bubbly.

Coquetes de cacau (peanut biscuits)

Posted on February 27, 2013 by lisajaneroberts

I think my husband Oscar’s most amusing claim to fame is that he was once the recipient of the most expensive peanut biscuit crumbs ever. We had moved to Australia, and back in Valencia, Oscar’s grandmother was fretting because she was convinced that without his favourite peanut crackers, her little Oscar would simply not be able to survive. So she made a huge batch and posted them to him. From Spain. In a box. Without bubblewrap.
I think the postage cost about 8,000 of the old pesetas, which is roughly 80 Australian dollars and considering that the crackers contain only flour, oil, a handful of peanuts and a splash of beer, and considering also that international post is not known for its delicacy of handling, you will understand what I mean by the most expensive crumbs ever.

Anyway, these savoury little biscuits are an essential part of this family’s diet – everyone loves peanuts, and everyone loves cocquetes de cacau. They are also quick and easy to make, which is good because they are in constant demand!

What you need (for about 12):
Half a glass of olive oil
Half a glass of beer
As much flour as it takes to form a soft dough
A good pinch of salt
Raw, shelled peanuts

What you do:
Heat your oven to 190ºC and lightly flour a baking tray. Pour the oil and beer into a mixing bowl and add a pinch of salt. Start stirring in flour, adding gradually until the dough comes together. It will be oily but not sticky and will form a lovely glossy little ball. Turn the dough out onto a floured surface and knead lightly for a few minutes. Then break off walnut-sized (ish) balls and squash flat on your palm to get a roundish, flattish disc.

Lay the discs onto the floured tray and prick them with a fork. Then decorate with your peanuts, give an additional sprinkling of salt and bake for about 15 minutes, though you really need to keep an eye on them to ensure they don’t burn!

Allow the biscuits to cool completely on a rack before crunching into one. If there are any left to store, do so in an airtight container for a couple of days at most.

Serve with: tasty cheese and beer

Fideuà

Posted on February 23, 2013 by lisajaneroberts

Last week Iaia turned 70, and not realising that her two boys had planned a surprise party for her, she got all the ingredients together for a celebratory fideuà. Of course, there was no way we were going to let such deliciousness go to waste, so we had a second celebration today, and Eduardo, my father-in-law took the reins and talked me through the art of this fabulous dish.

The stock we used was homemade fish stock. Iaia often goes to the Friday market and buys a bag full of “stock stuff”, including monkfish bones, hake heads, little crabs and other odds and ends that are not otherwise sellable. She boils up a huge batch – maybe 10 or even 20 litres of stock – and freezes it in various-sized containers.

If you can be bothered, and if you can stand the stink, homemade stock is the best by far. Otherwise, buy the best quality fish stock you can find. Please, please don’t use stock cubes – they just don’t cut it for this sort of cooking, and I’m afraid Iaia would be horrified.

What you need for 9-10 people:
Uncooked langoustines and prawns (1 or 2 of each per person)
2 cleaned cuttlefish (or squid)
2 large onions
6 cloves of garlic
3 pear tomatoes
1 kg of fideos*
about 2½ litres of fish stock
250 ml of olive oil
1 tbsp sweet paprika
salt and pepper

*fideos are short lengths of thick, bucatini-like pasta with a hole running through them. If you can’t find them, try breaking spaghetti or bucatini into 1-inch pieces and adjust the cooking time and amount of stock to suit the pasta you use.

What you do:
Eduardo cooks over an open fire, which is difficult and can be dangerous. If you can get hold of a paella gas ring and paella pan, then I would use them. Otherwise, if you scale down the recipe, you could probably do a pretty good version for 2 or 3 people in a large frying pan over a gas flame.

Slice the cloves of garlic and finely chop the onions. Grate the tomatoes and discard the skins.
Cut your cleaned cuttlefish into short strips and get
everything else assembled within easy reach before
you start cooking.

Pour the oil into your chosen pan and heat well. Carefully place the langoustines into the hot oil and fry for a few minutes, turning them from time to time. Add the prawns and do the same, then haul all of the critters out and set them to one side. This is not so much to cook the crustaceans as to perfume the oil, and it does wonders for the final
flavour of the dish.

Lower the heat a little and fry the garlic and onion for a couple of minutes, or until they soften slightly. Add the cuttlefish. It’s a good idea to keep things moving throughout these early stages so that nothing catches and burns. Eduardo also mentioned that when he buys fresh cuttlefish or squid, he scalds it and then lets it dry before frying it,
apparently this stops it from spitting oil all over you, which is a good thing. After about 5 minutes, the cuttlefish will be opaque, and the onion and garlic well-softened. It is time to add the tomato and your first seasoning of salt. Keep pushing everything around the pan; burnt is bad.

(At this point, we had to take everything off the fire because my brother-in-law was late, and he was bringing the pasta. While we were waiting, we gave in to temptation and dunked some bread into the tomatoey base. It was superb. Be tempted.)Once the fideos arrive, pour them all into the hot sauce, adding the paprika at the same time. Give them a thorough swirl to coat them with the flavoursome mix, and then pour your stock in. It is a bit of a hit-or-miss calculation; experience seems to be the key. Eduardo used about two and a half litres today, and the pasta was perfect.

As the liquid comes to a boil, lay your langoustines and prawns over the top and check for salt. Allow to boil vigorously for the time stipulated on the packet – usually about 9 or 10 minutes. The liquid should have all but disappeared by then.

We don’t eat this one from the communal dish but serve it on plates and sit at the table. It’s important not to leave the pasta in the metal pan for too long, or it will take on a slightly metallic tang. If there is any leftover after your initial serving, pop it onto a large dish and bring it to the table – most people will want seconds anyway!

Serve with: bubbles or a cold, dry white

Oniony roast lamb

Posted on February 22, 2013 by lisajaneroberts

Not only does our little fireplace keep us warm throughout winter, but it also furnishes us with an extra oven, which I use constantly in the cold months for pizzas, rice and meat dishes and roast veggies. Today I cooked a Iaia-style leg of lamb with caramelised onions in it, and it behaved beautifully, staying really hot for the first half an hour or so and then gradually dropping down to about 160ºC by which time the lamb was perfect.
Our Iaia is not a fan of cold roast meat, but I am, so I cook a leg for 2 people to make sure there is plenty left over for salads and sandwiches. And always use more onions and garlic than seems necessary, because they caramelise down to so little and taste so good that there is never enough!

What you need:
1 leg of lamb
6 onions
a head of garlic
a little white wine
a little olive oil
salt and pepper

What you do:
Heat your oven to about 210ºC. Roughly chop all of the onions into your baking dish. Break up the head of garlic into cloves without peeling them and chuck them in too. This way, the garlic cooks inside its jacket, and you get an amazingly fragrant paste to squish over your meat or mix into the juices for gravy deluxe.

Lay the leg of lamb on its oniony bed and season well with salt and pepper; add any herbs you fancy too. Pour about ¾ glass of white wine into the tray and drizzle a little olive oil over the lamb – if your joint has been (sadly) deprived of its fat, add extra and massage into the meat.
Cover with foil and pop into the hot oven. After half an hour, reduce the heat to about 170ºC (the exact temperature will depend on how fiercely your oven burns – you want the lamb to cook for two hours without frazzling, so adjust as you see fit).

I take the foil off after the first hour and spoon some onion/wine/lamb juice over the meat. If the onions appear to be either burning or sticking, it means you have not put in enough liquid, so add some quickly.

We like our lamb brown right to the bone, and the two-hour roasting time ensures both that and the scrummiest onions ever. They will be gloriously golden, the garlic softly squishy and the meat tender, with a darkened crusty exterior.

Leaving it to rest is always the best, but there are times (like today) when hunger gets the better of me, and it goes straight to the plate.

Serve with: greens and a red

Creïlles amb alls tendres i ou fregit (egg and chips Iaia style)

Posted on February 14, 2013 by lisajaneroberts

Egg and chips. Quintessential Shirley-Valentine-English food, right? But wait! Iaia has her own version, which is so highly esteemed, that despite requiring the rapid frying of 30 eggs, it was actually the star of our Christmas Eve family dinner a few years back.

If you can’t find spring garlic, you can always use a couple of normal onions. You will, of course, be cooking a different dish – Patatas a lo Pobre (poor man’s potatoes). They are slightly sweeter than the garlic version but equally delicious.

These tasty totties are not meant to be crunchy, so they can be cooked in advance and reheated while you fry your egg(s) for supper.

What you need for 2:
a bunch of ajos tiernos (spring garlic)
(or 2 medium onions)
2-3 well-sized potatoes
salt
olive oil
an egg (or two) a piece
bread

What you do:
Chop the garlic into 2cm lengths and split the thicker white base in half if it is at all bulbous. Separate the thin green stalky bits as you will add them to the pan a little later to avoid burning.
Pour a generous few glugs of good olive oil into a frying pan and heat gently. Add the white stems of the garlic and fry, stirring to avoid sticking and keeping the heat moderate. You want to soften the vegetables but not add any colour. After about 5 minutes, add the green stalks and a little salt. Once the garlic has softened, and the oil has absorbed much of its fragrance, remove and set aside, but be sure to leave as much oil as possible in the pan as you do so.
Peel and roughly chop your potatoes into little bite-sized chunks. Add a little more oil to the pan if you think you will need it, and heat well. Pop the potatoes in and fry, moving them about to prevent sticking and promote even cooking. Salt to taste. It will probably take about 10-12 minutes to cook them through. Once they are done, the garlic goes back in, and everything can be given a quick swirl to mix and mingle before taking off the heat.

Now, I assume I don’t need to tell you how to fry an egg, but I will say that frying requires oil. Without the oil, it is just heating, and I don’t know about you, but “here, have a heated egg with your chips” doesn’t appeal to me at all. We always use olive oil. If you want that lovely, brown, lacey edge on your egg, make sure your oil is hot before you crack!

Serve with: a generous sprinkling of black pepper and, as the oil that will inevitably find its way onto your plate has extremely high oop-value, go for a carb-overload with lovely fresh bread.

Putxero Day 3 – mandonguilles (left-over croquettes)

Posted on February 9, 2013 by lisajaneroberts

Here is the final recipe for this particular putxero. Using the rest of your leftovers, plus a couple of extras, you can make a whole meal of these little golden dumplings.
This particular recipe is hotly debated in the family. Should you add bechamel? Should you use a blender instead of a mortar and pestle, to make the ingredients smooth? If I were to follow Iaia to the letter, I would answer yes to both of those questions, but Auntie Toni has convinced me that la abuela (Oscar’s grandmother) didn’t do either and that her mandonguilles were the best ever…I’ll let you experiment and decide for yourself!

What you need: leftovers from the putxero
1 onion
1 clove of garlic
a small bunch of parsley
about 30g of pine nuts
1 or 2 eggs
1/2 tsp sweet paprika
sunflower seed oil for frying

What you do: Finely dice your onion and fry gently in a little olive oil until it softens. While it is cooking, grab a mortar and pestle and smoosh your garlic and parsley, adding a pinch of salt to help grind everything up. Once the onion is softened, stir in the garlic/parsley mix and the tsp of paprika. Fry for 20 to 30 seconds, then remove from the heat.
Take your leftovers and mortar and pestle them in manageable batches. (I don’t include the fat at this stage because I prefer to finely chop it rather than squash it). You want things to be chunky but not whole; it isn’t very taxing, nor is it a precise art, so smoosh to please yourself. In a large bowl, mix the onion, garlic and parsley into the mashed putxero leftovers. Add the finely chopped fat and the pine nuts. Mix well.
Put a frying pan with a couple of centimetres of sunflower oil on to heat. The hotter the oil, the less oily your finished croquettes will be. The egg (which is essential for binding the croquettes) can be dealt with in two ways, I tried both today, and it makes no difference whatsoever.
1. Beat an egg and then stir into the mixture before forming little croquette-shaped balls and frying, or
2. Make the little balls first and then dip them into a beaten egg before popping them into the pan.
Let the croquettes turn golden on one side before attempting to move them, and then do so gingerly so that they don’t fall apart. Drain on kitchen paper and allow to cool slightly before gobbling them up, or you will burn your mouth! Easy peasy.

Putxero Day 2 – arros al forn (oven-baked rice)

Posted on February 8, 2013 by lisajaneroberts

Although this rice uses exactly the same ingredients as yesterday, it has it’s own distinct character because everything dries out a little more in the oven and the flavours intensify.

First off then, pop your oven on to about 180ºC. It needs to be hot by the time you have the rice ready to go in so the stock doesn’t get a chance to go off the boil.

Because we want dry (but not horribly dried out,) rice today, we have to measure the next bit pretty carefully. If you are cooking this in a ceramic or terracotta dish, the stock-to-rice ratio is exactly 2:1. If you use a metal baking dish, you will need a little more stock, and if you cook wholemeal rice, you should increase it to 3:1. I used one and a half glasses of rice and 3 glasses of stock today. It is also really important to heat your stock to boiling before pouring it over the rice; otherwise, it will all take a good while to start cooking, and things will go all gluggy. Best to get your stock in a pan and on the heat while you deal with the rice and other bits.

Pour your rice into the base of a large, shallow terracotta dish (or a baking tray) and cut however much leftover meat, veg, chickpeas and pork fat you want to decorate your rice with and into bite-sized pieces, slicing the meatball into large rounds.

Sprinkle them about however you like, but make sure that the meatball slices and the dices of fat are on top – they will brown and melt beautifully and are the bits everyone always fights over.Once you have everything ready, season to taste and pour your boiling stock over the top. Into the oven for 30 or 40 minutes – until the stock has been absorbed by the rice and the top is looking goldenly fabulous.

Serve onto plates or, if you are friendly enough with your dining companion, eat it straight from the dish, following the paella etiquette rules.

Putxero (an unashamedly omnivorous yet thrifty boil-fest) Day 1

Posted on February 7, 2013 by lisajaneroberts

January 1^st 1993: As a recent arrival to this part of the world, I had kindly been invited to celebrate the new year by eating Putxero – a very traditional, very communal meal – with the family whose apartment I was renting. Unfortunately, I was shockingly hung over, so it will come as no surprise that the sight of a very large, very wobbly lump of boiled pork fat sitting on the table in front of me, waiting to be spooned onto my own plate and then into my mouth had a somewhat adverse effect on my delicate tummy. I was gently (thankfully!) ushered to a nearby sofa and furnished with a pillow, a blanket and a cup of mint tea to recover from the shock.

Of course, Putxero (or Cocido in Castillian) is not just boiled pork fat. It is the Valencian version of the well-known Italian Bollito Misto, or the French Pot au Feu and as such has a great number of other ingredients which, when all boiled together, make the most fantastic stock I have ever tried. I have become used to the idea of eating a little fat and now fully appreciate the incredible flavour it gives to the other meat and vegetables. I always take a small piece and smoosh it into the rest of my plateful as though it were butter in a mash.

Oscar’s grandmother cooked putxero every Thursday of the year. Most families will do so once a week or at least every fortnight. And it is Iaia’s Christmas Day lunch of choice. Like paella, there are many variations to the ingredients, but unlike paella, these variations occur from house to house, not town to town. I tend to put a lot more vegetables in than Iaia, and she will now always pop at least a turnip in if she knows I am eating with her. It is a long, long cook, but you don’t really have to do anything except make sure nothing boils over. This morning I started cooking at 8 a.m., went out for two hours mid-morning, leaving the heat on very low, then came back and finished everything off for lunch at 1:30. This extended cooking time ensures tender meat and a broth which has had time to draw all the rich flavour out of the stock-bones.

The other wonderful thing about putxero is that it provides (at least) three excellent meals for very little money. I will show you all three over the next couple of days.

DAY ONE:

What you need:
MEAT
a piece of garreta (beef calf muscle)
several stock bones (pork and beef, include a shin bone with some meat on it)
a piece of broiler chook
a generous piece of pork back fat
a putxero meatball, which is made of:
minced pork
lard
breadcrumbs
cinnamon
egg
salt
parsley
VEGETABLES
cardoon
potatoes
swede
carrots
flat beans
sweet potato
(some people add parsnip, but I don’t like it)
OTHER STUFF
chickpeas (soaked overnight)
salt
rice
water

What you do:
Place the chickpeas, bones, beef, chook and cardoon in a saucepan large enough to hold everything and boil comfortably (mine is a heavy-based, 8-litre, stainless steel beauty). Leave the fat, meatball and veggies until later so they don’t disintegrate. Cover generously with water – I used 3 litres today, but sometimes go up to 5 – and bring to a boil. Skim all rising scum off the surface at least twice until your water boils cleanly, then turn the heat down to a minimum, cover and leave to simmer for three or four hours.
I usually put about a tablespoon of salt in while the bones and meat are boiling, but you can add it after everything is cooked to make sure it isn’t too salty if you prefer.

After about two hours, add the peeled and halved turnip, the fat and the meatball. Then, when there is about an hour to go before lunch, peel your other vegetables and add them. Chop the sweet potato, but leave everything else whole. Add water if things are poking out and salt to taste. If you have read other posts, you may remember that white rice is not very popular here, so we also add a little orange food colouring at this point. Optional of course!

When you are almost ready for lunch, you need to decant enough stock to cook the first course of rice. For three people, I use about a glass and a half of rice (six of the handfuls you can see in the photo above, plus one for the pot) and roughly three times that of stock. Actually, this recipe is absolutely imprecise and relies wholly on your judgment – remember that the rice ought to be served in broth, not dry. Add a touch of cinnamon and a little parsley if you have it, and boil away for about 17 minutes, or until cooked. Place in bowls and set on the table to cool slightly while you get the rest of the lunch ready.Strain off the rest of the stock for tomorrow and arrange the meat and vegetables on a large platter. Once you’ve eaten the rice, each person serves themselves what they like most. The shot below shows what I chose today (note, no chickpeas – Oscar eats them all!). You should be aware that it is perfectly polite to mash things up a bit, mixing the fat into the potato and getting a good bit of everything into each mouthful. Delicious and fun.Once you’ve finished eating, store the stock and leftover pieces somewhere cool overnight (in the fridge if it’s summer), separating and discarding the bones and making sure the stock is well-strained.

Serve with: when Oscar was a teenager, he would eat bread with this! Nowadays, we settle for a glass of wine.

Iaia's kitchen

Traditional recipes from my Valencia mother-in-law

Author Archives: lisajaneroberts