Cool, misty rain is falling here in Virginia. This soggy, soaking weather prepares the way for spring, when plants sprout through the earth and cover the countryside with vibrant green. During these short, gloomy days of winter I find myself daydreaming about my days living in El Puerto de Santa María in vibrant Andalucía.

The warm, sunny climate is inviting of course, but I also yearn for the bright whitewashed buildings, delicious food and relaxed, welcoming culture. The sherry town of El Puerto sits on the bay of Cádiz and its beautiful beaches look out on that ancient city. You can wander the streets for hours, the air filled with the intoxicating aroma of the sherry bodegas. I remember stopping at Restaurante Romerijo with its amazing display of remarkably fresh seafood and feasting on delicious langostinos prawns and tiny cigalas lobsters. Pescaíto frito is the signature dish of the region – fresh fish deep fried in olive oil. Whole fried anchovies called boquerones fritos is the dish I miss the most.

Visiting a sherry bodega is an experience of a lifetime. These buildings, often centuries old, are built to maintain a constant temperature. The thick whitewashed walls support a massive roof covered in ceramic tiles. I remember walking into the Gutierrez Colosía bodega in the blazing heat of summer. Entering the cavernous warehouse, I was greeted with a peaceful darkness and surprisingly cool, humid atmosphere. Strolling down the aisles of enormous sherry barrels, I looked up at the curved arches that supported the roof. It was as if I had stepped into an ancient cathedral dedicated to this very special wine.

Sherry is a misunderstood masterpiece. It is actually a family of wines, from bone-dry, crisp Fino to nutty, aromatic Amontillado to raisiny-sweet Pedro Ximénez. What they share is a process called Solera, where wine is aged and transferred from top barrel to middle barrel to bottom barrel every year. This way a sherry contains a little wine from years or even decades past. During aging, the surface of the wine is covered with ‘flor,’ a beneficial yeast that slows oxidation. Less oxidized wines like Fino and Manzanilla are almost crystal clear, whereas more oxidized sherries like Oloroso and Amontillado have a warm, mahogany hue.

Plunging her long-handled dipper into a barrel, our guide Carmen poured us glasses of Fino sherry. The bright, aromatic wine was cool and refreshing. No wonder it is the classic pairing for seafood in Andalucía!

El Puerto de Santa María is one of the birthplaces of flamenco singing and it is common to see people dancing an impromptu Sevillana dance, with friends providing the distinct rhythmic clapping of the region. In late spring the season of Ferias begins. These centuries-old festivals used to be livestock fairs but are now a celebration that attracts the whole community, many of whom dress in extravagant flamenco-style dresses and arrive on horseback. Families host casetas, floored tents where they drink wine and dance into the night with their friends.

Across the bay in the city of Cádiz, everyone is excited for the famous Carnaval celebration this time of year. Every year during Lent, the whole city practically grinds to a halt for two full weeks! Large groups of performers called ‘chirigotas‘ parade through the streets in makeup and costumes, performing satirical songs and reciting sarcastic speeches. Far from the glitz and glamour of the Carnival in Brazil, this Carnaval is all about wit and irreverence, mocking politicians and prominent citizens. As you can imagine, the authorities have tried to ban Carnaval many times over the centuries, to no avail. This festival encapsulates the Gaditano love for celebration and community, for enjoying the moment and not taking life too seriously.

Not far from Cádiz is a pretty seaside village called Rota. Historically a fishing port, it now mostly depends on tourism and the large naval base nearby, run by the US Navy. My father, Don Harris, was a chaplain stationed at the base for a few years in the 1970s. Instead of living on base housing, my parents decided to experience the real Spain. We first moved into a house in El Puerto de Santa María on a busy street, and I hear the story of daily walks to the city market and filling plastic bottles with sherry at the front office of a local bodega. After a few months of experiencing the downtown cacophony, including parades and late-night revelry, they decided to move to the quiet Vista Hermosa neighborhood on the edge of town where their three small sons could get some sleep!

Later, I moved to the same neighborhood with my wife and two small daughters. We loved the flowering jacaranda trees and lollipop pines swaying in the wind. Occasionally the hot ‘levante’ winds would suddenly blow in from the Mediterranean, originating in the Sahara, and buffet the area until the windows rattled, and tree limbs slapped against the roof. This was so startling that on pretty days we avoided using the word ‘levante,’ in fear that just mentioning it would bring on another blast of wind!

As you probably know, the sun sets late in Spain. Because the country is on the same time zone as central Europe, everything seems to be happening later. We used to put our young daughters to bed at 8pm. Our Spanish neighbors were shocked – the sun wasn’t close to setting and it seemed like we were putting them in bed in middle of the afternoon! The locals took the opposite approach. I remember standing at a high table outside of a tapas bar downtown at 11pm enjoying a beer and seeing young kids chasing after each other in the square while their parents sat nearby. This is perfectly sensible when you remember that dinner is typically served at 9 or 10pm.

Further down the road is one of my favorite Andalucian cities, Sanlúcar de Barrameda. Guarding the mouth of the Guadilquivir river, it is an ancient, vivacious city with a scruffy edge. Columbus’s first voyage launched from Sanlúcar and much of the treasure of the Americas passed by on its way up the river to Seville. Legend has it that the city of Bonanza on the other side of the river was the origin of the famous exclamation referring to sudden riches. The beautiful Plaza de Cabildo in Sanlúcar is the perfect place to enjoy fresh tortillitas de camarones and other seafood tapas with a frosty glass of the famous local Manzanilla sherry.

There are so many great places to visit nearby: Jerez de la Frontera is a regal sherry town just 20 minutes inland, Chipiona is a beautiful old beach town, Medina-Sidonia’s whitewashed buildings bring you back centuries to the rule of the Moors.

But what I most remember is the warmth of the people, sharing time together over glass of sherry or caña of beer, often singing and clapping as they celebrate the end of a long sunny day.

I love traveling to Spain! When I step off the plane, I feel invigorated, like I am about to change my perspective on life, if just for a little while. A lot of the reason for this is the different way that Spanish people approach their days, and the habits and customs that shape how they see the world.

Where we live, what we eat and how we socialize not only inform our daily lives, but the character of our culture. Spain is a country of tight, densely populated communities. Most Spanish people live in apartments or small homes not far from family and friends, whether they live in the metropolis of Madrid or in a small village in the mountains of Asturias. This facilitates the habits that make Spain what it is.

1. El Mercado

The lively local markets of Spain survive and thrive, even in this time of hipermercados and Ikea. These vibrant shopping areas are usually situated in the center of town, within easy walking distance for much of the community. There you can escape your apartment (or hotel, in my case!) and shop among the stalls offering bread baked that morning, beautiful produce and startlingly fresh seafood, much of it still wriggling with life. I’ll never forget visiting the market in El Puerto de Santa María and seeing an older woman tap her basket of brine shrimp to make them jump, displaying the freshness of her offering! There are usually multiple competing stalls selling similar items, so there is a variety of choices.

You can take a break from your shopping for an amazing cup of espresso coffee and a hot, crunchy churro pastry. Or, later in the day, you can stop to chat with a friend over a frosty caña of beer. For many people this is a daily ritual, an opportunity to catch up with friends and neighbors while taking care of necessary errands. Our habit of dashing off to the supermarket and filling a shopping basket in relative anonymity may be more efficient, but I miss the warmth and comradery of the local markets in Spain.

2. Gathering with Family and Friends

We Americans rightly cherish (most of the time!) our traditional family holidays, especially Thanksgiving and Christmas, when the whole clan reunites and celebrates together. People travel many hours from far-flung communities to reunite with their kin. I noted on a recent trip that traveling from California to the East Coast takes just as long as flying across the Atlantic Ocean!

But in Spain, family gatherings are often a weekly occurrence. There is no need for a flurry of travel since much of the family usually lives nearby. Because of this, parents, children, siblings, cousins and friends are all available to get together for a bite at the local tapas bar or come over for a weekend paella. Because they all come from the same area, they share similar traditions and appreciation for local cuisine. I am sure this can seem stifling for some who may want to strike out on their own. But for many there is something reassuring about this habit of family get-togethers.

3. Ours Is the Best!

I am always amazed at the fierce pride that Spanish people feel for their local foods. As a 21st century American, I am attuned to the culture of discovery: what is the new food trend? Have you tried that amazing new Thai joint? Wait until you taste this artisan cheese from Napa Valley! In some ways this adventurous palate is the reason I love Spain, there are so many local food treasures for me to discover every time I visit.

It is the opposite in many parts of Spain. Pride in the local cuisine means that foreign foods are unnecessary and inferior. I lived in El Puerto de Santa Maria for half a year with my family a few years ago. We loved the ‘pescaito frito’ fried fish and other local delicacies. But after a while we started craving a change, maybe a Mexican burrito or a plate of sushi. When we asked around, the typical response was, why would you want that? There is so much great food here!

And for a surprising number of Spanish people, “foreign” applies to a nearby city as much as to the cuisine of Mexico or Japan. I remember ordering a glass of Manzanilla sherry in the city of Córdoba. The nonplussed waiter informed me that they only offer Montilla, the local fortified wine. I ordered a glass and thought it tasted surprisingly similar to Manzanilla (I did not say as much to the waiter). Manzanilla comes from Sanlúcar de Barrameda, two hours down the road from Córdoba, and was clearly regarded as an inferior wine. I have had similar experiences regarding local versions of chorizo, tortilla española and Jamón Ibérico – what I might see as subtle differences in flavor or preparation are sources of pride and distinction, to be defended from all interlopers.

Of course, this is a generalization. There are many adventurous eaters in Spain, especially in the big cities. And there are strong local food traditions in America that garner fierce pride, such as pork barbecue in North Carolina or sourdough bread in San Francisco. But because people move around less in Spain and centuries of tradition that form each area’s food culture, I’ve found that there is an amazing number of foods in Spain that are tied to local identity and culture.

4. Café o Caña?

No matter whether you are in a small village or big city, it seems like every corner features a café or bar full of locals grabbing a refreshment and a bite. This is a chance to bump into old friends and catch up on local doings and is another way that life is experienced outside of the home in Spain.

Walking to work? How about a café con leche and some pan tostada? And a nice cortado (espresso ‘cut’ with a splash of hot milk) is perfect mid-morning or after lunch break. Heading home? Grab a caña (small glass) of frosty beer. There is no need to ask for a brand of brew, the regional beer is the freshest and best, of course. Some modern taps are covered in frost and have a digital temperature display to show that the beer will be served cold enough to make a penguin shiver.

5. Noise Is Joy

All of this interaction makes most Spaniards experts at socializing, which is nowhere more apparent than at the local restaurant or bar. Looking for a quiet candlelit dinner? You may be out of luck if the place is full! The sheer volume of talk is astonishing for an outsider. Tables of friends discussing politics, families sitting with children discussing their day, girlfriends sharing a few stories – everyone is talking, seemingly all at once!

Last spring, I traveled through Portugal with my brother Tim on my way to Cádiz, where we lived as kids. The first day in Lisbon, we sat outdoors at a beautiful old library that had been converted to a bar looking over the bay. While crowded, the scene was peaceful and fairly quiet. A few minutes later one of the tables was filled by a group of friends chatting and exclaiming at full volume. Spain had just entered the scene!

The strong affinity for the local and the communal is core to Spain’s identity. Local traditions and daily rituals are a source of intense pride. Life is lived outside of the home, shared with friends and family every day. Is this true for every Spanish person? Of course not. But it is a part of the national character. As an American I have to admit that this is both invigorating and exhausting for me – I am much more comfortable with a more segmented life, where I can retreat to my home at the end of the day. But I truly enjoy the energy and personal connections that seem so effortless in Spain. I can’t wait to visit a restaurant or café on my next trip and step into the Spanish way of living once again.

DonThis is a classic essay from 2005 featuring ice storms, power outages and Christmas in a rustic bodega. We hope you enjoy reading this Christmas adventure story.

¡Felices Fiestas, mis amigos!

Several years ago, Ruth and I booked plane tickets for the whole family to celebrate Christmas in a remote part of Spain. We drove directly to Granada, spent the night, and then headed southeast toward the area surrounding the mountain village of Cádiar deep in the Alpujarra region. It is a unique area, a natural link between the Mediterranean coast and Sierra Nevada, towered over by some of the highest peaks of Spain. It is there that the remnants of the Moors sequestered themselves after the fall of Granada in 1492; and it is not far from the dramatic mountain town of Trevélez where the local people cure a fabulous Jamón Serrano in the shadow of the highest mountain pass in the country.

Our trip turned out to be quite an adventure! In 1997 much of Spain was experiencing drenching rains and dramatic mudslides of historic proportions. Nevertheless, undaunted by the rain, we navigated the narrow mountain roads in two cars - each driver experiencing his own challenges as we snaked up the mountain range. The least of our worries were the few roadside guard-rails remaining which had been violently uprooted by the mud. As our other car was approaching its destination, a horse started galloping behind us down the road!

It was dark by the time we reached the end of our journey. But for the brilliant full moon, our destination would have been difficult to spot because the road leading to the buildings had been washed out by a mud-slide. We stopped to ask directions from a man alongside the road. He hopped on our hood and guided us down the road. Quite an adventure, but with a happy conclusion: we were greeted by the innkeeper, who, with typical Spanish cordiality served us a simple and wholesome meal.

After a good night's sleep, we awakened to a sunny day in the clear mountain air. We were enjoying a respite from the stormy weather by hiking around on the rocks when our host asked us if we would like him to prepare a meal to celebrate 'La Noche Buena' - Christmas Eve, which would be that evening. He noted that because of the weather there were few alternatives for us, so he and his staff would be delighted to serve us. We gratefully accepted his generous proposal.

That afternoon the seven of us made our way to the village of Cádiar, stopping for café con leche and churros before popping into a little shop in town to pick out amusing little gifts for each other. We decided to simplify gift giving by drawing names: each person would buy only one gift, and that gift could not exceed 500 pesetas ($3.00). As we drove back to our inn, we noticed the village parish church - a late medieval structure - perfect for Midnight Mass.

We returned to one of the most memorable meals we have ever shared together as a family. Our host had set up a long refectory-type table in his cellar bodega. We were surrounded by barrels of wine and overhead were dozens of serrano hams hanging from the rafters. The wonderful aromas of the wine-soaked barrels and the still-curing jamones were soon augmented by the sweet smell of platterfuls of woodfire roasted lamb - it seemed as if there was one for each one of us. The candle-lit table was laden with local vegetables and delicacies accompanied by wine of the region. The feast continued with Christmas sweets and savories, reaching its conclusion with glasses of brandy. No honey-coated spiral ham for us! We felt we were far away from modern America.

After the dinner, as we were opening our little gifts, we noticed the wind gusting stronger, until finally we lost our electric power. Candles were lit, glowing on the rustic wooden tables to light the room. It was a truly rustic occasion. But that did not stop us from getting ready to go to the ancient church in the village. As we were driving to town, our way illumined by the full moon, I romanticized how the lack of electricity would enhance our worship with the people of the village. It would be easy to imagine ourselves living in simpler times, centuries in the past.

We arrived at the church only a minute or two before Midnight, relieved that we were not too late. But, to our dismay, we found a darkened church with the door locked! Just about then the local parish priest roared up in his small SEAT sedan (so much for medieval illusions!) He greeted us, unlocked the door, and then bustled about the building lighting several portable butane heaters (with the familiar orange 'butano' canisters) and rolling them to where the congregation would be sitting - saving one heater for himself by the altar.

Without electricity the medieval church did have an added charm - the flickering candles, the shadowy arches, the crèche in the transept, the villagers filtering in throughout the liturgy at their own pace. By the time the Mass was over, and the villagers were filing by the manger scene venerating the Christ child, the church was comfortably full.

What a wondrous day it had been: our family together; the feast prepared by our inn-keeper and served by young women from the town; opening modest presents and then worshiping together. It had been all that I could hope for - mudslides and lost electricity notwithstanding.

I know we cannot replicate this magical Christmas again. But the commitment to greater simplicity during the holidays can be accomplished, and you do not have to go to Spain to do it. We discovered this truth a couple of years later here in Williamsburg, Virginia. We had a horrendous ice storm during the holidays, which knocked out our electricity, and even our water, for days. That Christmas Eve we tossed a couple more logs on the fire, snaked a hose over from our neighbors’ yard and shared a special time together. I particularly remember gathering to sing carols by the crackling fire. It was simple and very special.

For many people this is the favorite holiday of the year. No matter our personal faith, the universal icon of Mother and newborn Child reflects hope, and the joy of loving families. This is the season for each of us to renew personal ties and extend ourselves to others, so that the shortest days of the year are filled with light and joy.

Our family, and our fantastic La Tienda family, extend to you best wishes for a joyful time in this holiday season. We hope that, amidst all the distractions, you are able to focus on the purpose of all your preparations - sharing your love with others.

¡Felices Fiestas, Feliz Navidad!
Don

Thanksgiving is almost upon us! This is one of my favorite holidays, when we gather to celebrate the harvest season and give thanks for the land’s bounty with family and friends. In North America we feast on foods recently gathered from the fields: squash and cranberries; sweet potatoes and brussels sprouts; and of course, pumpkin pie. A beautifully roasted turkey surrounded by the fruit of the harvest makes this the most American of holidays.

In Spain it is a little different – there are two important harvests of olives and grapes for wine: In October is the vendimia or wine festival where everyone in town celebrates the harvest of grapes for the next vintage.

Soon after, farmers across Spain head to the fields to gather that most essential crop, olives. Millions of tons of olives are shaken from olive trees every fall, most of them pressed and packaged as olive oil. In fact, Spain produces more olives and olive oil than any other country in the world.

It is impossible to imagine any meal in Spain without olive oil. This has been true for over 2,000 years, when the Romans introduced extensive olive farming to the Iberian Peninsula. It is hard to believe, but the archeologists discovered that one of the hills of Rome consisted of a huge mound of discarded terracotta amphoras which held olive oil that the Romans transported by ship from Spain.

In much of Spain, breakfast often consists of toasted bread with olive oil (good luck finding any butter and jam!) and most Spanish recipes start with a splash of olive oil in a pan. Even my favorite cookies, crisp tortas de aceite from Sevilla, are made with flour, sugar, and extra virgin olive oil.

Olives are a pitted fruit, distantly related to peaches, plums and almonds. Actually, when you think about it, olive oil is nothing but pure fruit juice. There are hundreds of varieties of olives and a vast variety of flavors. You can enjoy all kinds of flavors --fruity, spicy, flowery, mild - just as you can savor all kinds of grape juice made into wine.

Are olives naturally green, or brown or black? The answer is yes! In fact, all olives are green until they ripen late in the season. No matter what level of ripeness, never eat an olive directly off a tree. Raw olives are horribly bitter due to a compound called oleuropein. This chemical is intended to protect the fruit from pests and animals, humans included. Ironically, oleuropein contains antioxidants with health benefits, including anti-inflammatory characteristics. The spicy, mildly bitter notes in a quality extra virgin olive oil come from this compound.

Table olives are cured in a special brine that extracts the bitterness. Most table olives are green, though there are some dark brown ripe olives like the sweet Aragon variety. On another note, the typical pitted gray-black olives on your pizza are a California invention, basically green olives bombarded with chemicals to change their color and texture.

Fully ninety percent of olives harvested are pressed into olive oil. An olive tree takes about five years to mature at which point it produces from 15 to 20 kilos of olives, which amounts to between 2 and 5 liters of oil per year. This is where things get interesting.

Some compare olive oil to wine. in both cases the ‘terroir’-- the type of soil, and the variety of fruit contribute to the final flavor profile. Where this comparison falls apart is in ripeness and aging – fully ripe fruit and extended aging are essential for the finest wine but would be deadly for a good olive oil. The younger the better for olive juice/oil. Whereas usually the older the better with grape juice/wine.

The very best olive oils are pressed when the olives are still fairly green and not quite ripe. As olives ripen, the yield increases as the quality declines. A tree of fully ripe olives will yield twice the oil, but the taste will be both bitter and bland. As with most fruit, oxidation turns crisp, fresh fruit picked from an orchard tree (whether it be a peach, apricot or olive) into a soft, overripe one. The reason is oxidation, transforming a fresh olive into a soft, overripe one. After pressing, oxygen is also extra virgin olive oil’s enemy. This is why most oil is topped with a flush of nitrogen gas when it is bottled. A good bottle of extra virgin olive oil should be used within a couple of months of opening since it starts to oxidize the moment you open the bottle.

The olive harvest is still a surprisingly manual process. First, olives that naturally fall to the ground before harvest are often spoiled or dirty and are never used for olive oil. On the day of harvest, nets are spread below the trees and the branches are beaten with sticks or shaken with a special machine to drop the olives. The olives are collected from the nets and transported to an olive mill – the sooner the better! The very best oil is pressed within hours of harvest.

Our friends at Castillo de Canena in Jaén are fanatics about producing the very finest early harvest extra virgin olive oil. Every October the Vañó family monitors their olive trees carefully. They select a day when the olives have just started to ripen and harvest one batch to make their First Day of Harvest oil. The yield is spectacularly low, but the quality is phenomenal. I remember the first time I saw this oil poured into a white bowl. It was the color of antifreeze – literally glowing green. The aroma was impossibly fresh, smelling of artichokes and fresh grass. The price for a bottle of this amazing oil is not cheap (about $50 per bottle), but then again, how often can you get the very best of something for that price?

Milling and pressing olives is now a high-tech hygienic process, with stainless steel grinders for pulping the olives and modern centrifuges to separate the oil from water and impurities. This was not the case until fairly recently. A few years ago, we traveled to Catalunya with our friend Hans de Roos to visit one of the last traditional mills in Spain. Hans presses his Can Solivera Wild extra virgin olive oil in the old way.

The traditional method is to grind the olives under a cylindrical granite millstone. Then the pulp is spread onto round esparto grass mats that are stacked on top of each other. This tower of mats is pressed until the oil streams out, pouring into a stone channel that runs into holding tanks. The oil then decants naturally, with the organic material settling on the bottom of the tank. This labor-intensive process is expensive and requires experienced millers to ensure a clean, pure olive oil – a tradition that is almost lost. These traditional mills used to dot the landscape in Spain, but there are only a half dozen of these mills still following this process. Our Can Solivera oil is one of the few produced this way, and is served at the world famous El Celler de Can Roca restaurant in Girona.

Romance aside, the modern process usually produces a much higher quality extra virgin olive oil because of the precise controls. Stainless steel equipment and an automated process ensure that no impurities are introduced. The pressed oil is stored in refrigerated stainless-steel containers that are flushed with nitrogen, blocking oxidation and allowing for stable long-term storage.

Now, not all olive oil is extra virgin. After the oil is pressed, the used pulp is often carted off to a factory where it is chemically treated to extract every last drop of oil that remains. This is called pomace oil and is fine for deep frying or industrial uses but lacks most of the flavor and health benefits of extra virgin olive oil. Beware of oils that are called “light” or “extra light.” These are usually pomace oil with a splash of extra virgin for color and a bit of flavor.

With such a vast production of such a valuable oil, there are bound to be vendors who seek to confuse or cheat customers. Much of Italy’s extra virgin olive oil originates in Spain and is then transported in tankers to be packaged in Italy – not illegal, but very confusing. Worse are companies that fraudulently mix cheaper oils with extra virgin oil to optimize their profits, which is illegal but hard to detect.

The best way to ensure you purchase authentic quality extra virgin olive oil is to buy from a trusted source. We regularly visit olive fields and mills in Spain, meeting with the producers, many of whom have become personal friends of our family. We directly import most of our extra virgin oils, ensuring that they are packaged and transported carefully to preserve their quality.

How an oil is packaged and handled is very important. Extra virgin olive oil should be thought of as fresh pressed fruit juice – which it is! All the healthful compounds and antioxidants need to be protected. The enemies of great olive oil are heat, light, oxygen and time. Opaque bottles or cans can block damaging light. Always store your olive oil in a cool area, never close to a cooking surface. You can also store olive oil in the refrigerator, though it may solidify in the cold. Simply allow it to warm to room temperature before serving.

Time and oxygen are the final factors. I remember giving a friend a nice bottle of olive oil by Castillo de Canena. A year later, I visited his house and noticed the same bottle on his countertop, only half finished. He told me that he only used it on special occasions because he liked it so much. I explained that this was like opening nice bottle of wine and then pouring a glass every couple of weeks and corking it again.

What he didn’t understand was that once you open a bottle, the clock starts ticking on everything that makes extra virgin olive oil so special. All the subtle flavors and amazing healthful compounds begin to fade, slowly transitioning into a bland, unremarkable oil within a matter of months. Freshness definitely matters.

Spain’s bounty of olives is the cornerstone of the Mediterranean diet, a way of eating that is proven to lead to a long, healthy life. In fact, Spain is projected to have the longest lifespan in the world by 2030. I have a friend in Spain who tells me her parents drink a shot of extra virgin olive oil every morning for the health benefits alone!

You don’t have to go to this extreme to enjoy the benefits of extra virgin olive oil. My family has replaced margarine and butter with extra virgin olive oil for use on toast or rice or potatoes. And fresh salads and vegetables are natural partners with a good oil. Just a few teaspoons a day will add flavor and health to your home.

As you plan your Thanksgiving feast, I encourage you to make olives and extra virgin olive oil an important part of your meal. And a bottle or two of Rioja wine is not a bad idea either!

¡Buen Provecho!
Jonathan Harris

Spain’s big cities are full of excitement and amazing attractions, from the Plaza del Sol in Madrid to the Sagrada Familia cathedral in Barcelona. With literally thousands of restaurants to choose from and hundreds of attractions to visit, there is always something new to discover. But after a day or two of the hustle and bustle, I begin to yearn for a slower pace and a deeper connection. Then it is time to seek out the smaller treasures of Spain, villages and towns with their own special charms.

Today I want to share five of my favorite places to visit outside of the famous cities. These towns and villages move more slowly, and visitors get a chance to know the people and culture that make them special. Each one has its own special kind of beauty and is well worth the effort.

O Cebreiro

Our first stop is at the top of a ridge in Galicia - the tiny village of O Cebreiro. A winding road reaches higher and higher until you come upon a group of prehistoric-looking stone houses with hand-cut thatched roofs. These ‘pallazos’ are Celtic dwellings where large families used to live in close quarters with their animals, with a communal fire to fend off the chilly wind and the frequent misty fog. Incredibly, local villagers lived this way for over 1,500 years until the 1960s. My parents, Don and Ruth Harris, visited during that period and witnessed the last generation that followed the old ways.

The tiny hamlet has been restored with modern amenities, but it still takes me back to another time. The aroma of wood smoke and farm animals envelops you as you wander the stone paved streets. From its high vantage point you can take in the verdant countryside rolling off into the distance. Often veiled in mist, O Cebreiro can take on a magical aspect, transporting you back centuries.

The village church, Santa María la Real, is an important stop on the ancient Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route. When the weather is particularly misty the bell of the church is rung to help pilgrims find their way. Legend has it that the church holds a Holy Grail! In the 14th century, a village priest was performing mass when the wine in the chalice turned into blood. Certified an official miracle by Pope Innocent VIII, this Holy Grail can be viewed to this day in the sanctuary. Now, this is not THE Holy Grail. The true chalice from the Last Supper now resides in Valencia, of course (look it up on Google!)

On the edge of the village is a pilgrim hostel with dozens of bunks to house the weary hikers. A few rustic restaurants cater to the pilgrims, offering humble but hearty meals. Don’t miss the Caldo Gallego, the classic Galician stew with local greens (grelos), potatoes and beans seasoned with smoky chorizo and jamón.

Chinchón

Next let me transport you to the picturesque town of Chinchón, just 45 km outside of Madrid. The unusual name of the town translates as a bump you might get on your head and was probably named after the hill in the center of town which is topped by an imposing cathedral. [Correction - a bump on the head is a chichón without the 'n'. Thanks to our readers for letting me know!] I love the Plaza Mayor, a medieval square surrounded by elegant wooden balconies. There are many traditional restaurants lining the square featuring wood-fired ovens for roasting traditional meats like suckling lamb and morcilla sausages. I can think of no better way to spend a lazy afternoon in Spain than sipping red wine and enjoying a traditional feast with friends overlooking this beautiful plaza.

These balconies are most in demand during late summer when the whole square is transformed into a bull ring. The first running of the bulls takes place on July 25th. Other important events are the Chinchón Anis festival featuring the local anisette liquor, and the Fiesta de Ajo featuring the special white garlic of the area.

You can stay in style at the Parador de Turismo hotel, just steps away from the main square. This former Augustinian monastery is beautifully restored and features a stunning central courtyard and antique furnishings.

Sigüenza

About an hour from Madrid, this lovely hilltop town is close to my heart. I love to walk up the cobblestone streets to the fairytale castle that perches above the village. This impressive fortress dates to the 5th century. It was expanded by the conquering Moors, then retaken in 1123 and has seen many battles and expansions over the centuries. In 1976, it was restored to its former glory and converted to another excellent Parador hotel.

Sigüenza is home to a beautiful Gothic cathedral with impressive artwork and sculptures, including the famous 'El Doncel', an alabaster sculpture of a young night who died in the battle to retake Granada. During the Spanish civil war in the 1930s, Franco’s forces besieged a Republican force in the cathedral, firing down from the castle, and you can still see bullet holes pocking the ancient stone walls of the cathedral tower.

It is hard to believe that Sigüenza endured so much conflict over the centuries as you sit at a table in the picturesque main plaza, sipping on a beer as you watch the locals taking their evening strolls. Sometimes I will book a room in the castle-Parador for the night before my flight back home. It is a great way to relax and absorb a bit of traditional Spain before my journey, and it sure beats a generic hotel near the airport!

Carmona

Heading south into Andalucía we reach the elegant city of Carmona. Only 30 minutes outside of Seville it is easy to get to and a world away from the big city. Perched on a ridge overlooking miles and miles of fertile countryside, it has served as a strategic location for civilizations going back to the time of the Phoenicians.

As you enter the town, narrow alleys weave their way past whitewashed dwellings until they reach the stunning Alcazar del Rey Don Pedro. As you walk through the portcullis and imagine tunicked guards pacing the towers above you, you reach the castle entrance and enter another amazing Parador hotel. Stroll through the courtyard and glance at the suits of armor, then proceed to the hotel bar with a balcony that sits a hundred feet above the valley. There are few better places to enjoy a drink with a friend and take in the stunning views. If you are planning on staying the night, I also recommend the Casa Palacio de Carmona, a delightful 16th century Renaissance palace converted to a hotel and managed by our good friend Felipe Guardiola. Be sure to say hello to Felipe for me!

Wandering back through the town I like to visit the Plaza Mercado, a colonnaded square with restaurants and shops. It is a great place to stop for a tapa and relax. Leaving the Plaza, you can visit several churches in the Mudéjar style as well as the Jewish quarter with its pretty streets and balconies. Outside of town you can visit a 1st century Roman amphitheater and necropolis.

Sanlúcar de Barrameda

At the mouth of the Guadalquivir river sits the town of Sanlúcar de Barrameda. This laid-back beach town in Andalucia sits on Atlantic next to the beautiful La Doñana national park. It is famed for its excellent sherries and amazing seafood. The Bajo de Guía waterfront strip is home to some of the finest seafood restaurants in all of Spain. My favorite is the 60-year-old Casa Bigote where you can feast on pescaíto frito (fresh fried fish), almadraba tuna and delectable langostinos de Sanlúcar shrimp.

The least known of the three “Sherry Triangle” cities, Sanlúcar is known for its crisp, dry Manzanilla sherry. Manzanilla is aged in bodegas built very close to the beach and the mild sea breezes add a briny note to this refreshing wine that can only be made in Sanlúcar.

For centuries, Sanlúcar was the gateway to Sevilla and all of the treasures of the Americas sailed past the here on their way upriver. In fact, the town across the river is fittingly named Bonanza. Another historic event starting in Sanlúcar is El Rocio. Every year over a million people travel to the La Doñana nature preserve to visit the Virgin of El Rocio, and many of the pilgrims dress in historic garb and ride horses and carriages into the sandy wilderness.

When I visit, I like to stroll down the beach for a while and then head to the quaint Plaza Del Cabildo in the center of town. A must visit is the classic Casa Balbino seafood restaurant. Customers order from the counter as a half dozen waiters dash to-and-fro passing out drinks and tallying bills with chalk on the countertop.

Once I get my order of acedias fritas (tiny fried flounder) or tortillitas de camarones (fried brine shrimp pancakes, the best in Spain), I settle under an orange tree with a frosty glass of manzanilla sherry. As the sea breezes rustle the leaves, I watch children chase pigeons near a delightful fountain.

Every time I get a chance to visit one of these wonderful towns, I find myself recharged, at home in a community with a slower pace and a strong sense of place. Prosperity and modernity have transformed Spain in so many ways, often for the better, but I am happy to know that many towns and villages have retained many of the best parts of their histories and cultures. I hope you get a chance to visit one of these special places soon.

Un Abrazo,
Jonathan

One of my favorite childhood memories growing up in El Puerto de Santa María in southern Spain is of wandering the town market, walking past piles of colorful ripe vegetables, aromatic cheeses and seafood fresh from the ocean. I remember one older woman sat next to a basket of brine shrimp. Every few minutes she would tap the basket, triggering the tiny crustaceans to jump in the air, proving their freshness. Another woman in a flowered dress sat with a folding fan, brushing snails back into a bucket as they tried to escape. We would always end our shopping trip with a visit to the “churro lady” who would snip crispy lengths of the hot fried dough that we would devour, dipped in thick hot chocolate a la taza.

What impresses me most about markets in Spain is the quality of the foods on display with the owner of each booth literally standing behind her products. I remember several times a vendor convincing me not to buy a particular fruit because it was not perfectly ripe, or another vendor steering me away from one fish to another that was better quality.

This straightforward pride in quality local ingredients is typical in Spain. Spanish recipes are usually equally straightforward, allowing the ingredients to shine without elaborate sauces or technique. Over the years, we’ve cooked with friends from across Spain and learned some simple tips for enjoying Spanish recipes at home.

One of the first things my father particularly enjoyed at the markets was perusing the large ceramic jugs full of a dizzying variety of olives. One vendor had a wooden mallet and cracked olives on a cutting board so that they could absorb the brine flavored with garlic and spices. When we moved back to the United States, we found a source for big gallon jars of big Gordal (queen) olives. We added sliced lemon, onion, garlic, bay leaf and thyme to the brine and let the olives sit in the refrigerator to marinate. For weeks afterward, we enjoyed olives that reminded us of the market visits in Spain – usually paired with a cold glass of Fino sherry.

When we lived in Andalucía, our family became close with the family of Pedro Diaz. Pedro was a bright and expressive man who worked with my father on the Rota naval base. When we visited their apartment in the city of Jerez de la Frontera, Pedro’s warm wife Olga taught my mother the secrets to her Andalucian gazpacho. Ripe, fresh vegetables are essential, of course, but there are a few techniques we follow to this day. First, always peel the tomatoes. Second, keep any green peppers to a minimum. Finally, always use day old crusty bread and soak it in water before the gazpacho is blended. The more bread that is added, the less acidic the gazpacho.

Tortilla Española is another classic recipe that we picked up during our time in El Puerto. Our household helper Milagros was another warm, engaging young woman who became a good friend of the family. She cooked many wonderful dishes that the children enjoyed, but her Spanish tortilla was our favorite. This potato and egg omelet is beloved across Spain and there are as many varieties as there are kitchens.

Rather than slice the peeled potatoes, Milagros preferred to dice them and cook them in olive oil with slices of onion and garlic. The eggs were mixed with crushed garlic and chopped parsley before they were added to the potatoes for their final cooking. She liked to fully cook her tortilla so that the center was firm, though some regions of Spain prefer a moist, almost liquid interior. For me, Milagros’s tortilla was the taste of my childhood, so hers will always be the best!

More recently we visited Jamie Jones, our purchasing manager, who lives in the beautiful oceanside village of Zarautz in the Basque Country. He is married to a wonderful Basque woman named Biki and they had us to their apartment for dinner. On the menu was Bacalao al Pil Pil. This classic Basque dish features a loin of desalted cod in a creamy garlic sauce with a touch of hot pepper. The recipe literally has four ingredients, so technique is of the essence!

Biki brought out a rustic cazuela dish with a beautiful dark patina from dozens of previous meals. When the cazuela had warmed on the stove, Jamie added a few tablespoons of olive oil and added the cod loins skin side down. He grabbed the side of the cazuela and slowly moved it in a circular pattern, so the cod swirled on top of the oil. Magically, within a few minutes the oil became cloudy, then thick and almost white. Jamie drizzled a little more oil into the dish and repeated the process until the sauce was thick again. Fifteen minutes of careful swirling and it was done – he plated the fish, poured the rich, creamy sauce on top and garnished it with roasted garlic and a few flakes of hot pepper.

What had just happened? How had a sauce appeared out of nowhere? It turns out the gelatin in the fish is released during cooking and gets emulsified with the careful movement of the cazuela. This is the essence of Spanish cooking for me – a few excellent ingredients and careful preparation are all that you need. Often a key ingredient can make all the difference – a spoonful of extra virgin olive oil, a dash of sherry vinegar or a pinch of pimentón de la Vera (Spanish smoked paprika) can transform a recipe.

On a recent trip to Cordoba, a friend prepared a pork tenderloin from an acorn-fed Ibérico pig. He grilled the solomillo over hot charcoal and sliced it thinly, served with fresh sliced bread. The pork was delicious with a deep richness balanced by an aromatic wine marinade. I asked him his secret and he said one word – montilla. Montilla is similar to sherry and a source of fierce pride in Cordoba. My friend had marinated the tenderloin in this local dry white wine for a couple of hours, pairing two very local quality ingredients and allowing each to shine.

To this day I seek out local mercados every time I visit Spain. The Spanish pride of place, of great ingredients and traditions, shows in the faces of the vendors whose families have tended these market stalls for generations. Simple techniques allow these great ingredients to shine, and it is my favorite way to cook.

¡Buen provecho!
Jonathan Harris

A few years ago, we went on a special mission to visit La Maquina restaurant in the town of Lugones, famed for having the finest fabada stew in all of Asturias. After much driving, we finally arrived at a rustic building with no obvious sign for a restaurant - the only clue was a small green locomotive sculpture on the street. Cold, bone-tired and hungry we stumbled into the small restaurant and took a seat. When the big bowl of fabada bean stew laced with morcilla and pork belly arrived at the table, I knew immediately that the journey was worth the effort!

Before I dipped my spoon into the hearty bowl of fabada, tendrils of steam rose to deliver the aromas of this classic dish, giving me a preview of the flavor powerhouse I was about to enjoy. I discovered later that this humble dish contained all three of Spain’s essential spices, each working together. Stone milled pimentón de La Vera smoked paprika added a bold smokiness; purple garlic cloves lent a rich, roasted foundation; and bright red threads of saffron added a subtle floral note that tied all of the ingredients together.

Pimentón, saffron and garlic. These are the three defining spices of Spain. There are other contenders close to my heart – where would roasted cordero lechal (suckling lamb) be without fresh rosemary leaves, and how could we leave out thyme, bay leaf or parsley? Without those spices and herbs, Spanish cuisine would be much poorer. But the ruling trio influences the cuisine across Spain’s many regions and adds flavor to myriad dishes. Often, they are combined into a one-two-three punch of Spanish flavor. Today I would like to explore each of these essential Spanish tastes.

1. Garlic

Garlic is the quiet ruler of Spain’s kitchens. Almost always a supporting character for the more charismatic main ingredient, it provides the fullness of flavor that is essential. Every region and province of Spain shares a passion for this humble yet powerful clove. Some of my favorite dishes feature garlic as a central ingredient: creamy Ajo Blanco almond and garlic soup; Gambas al Ajillo shrimp sizzling in garlic laced olive oil; Pan con Tomate toast rubbed with garlic and olive oil - just to name a few.

Spain is so passionate about great garlic that the famous purple variety from the region of Cuenca has official IGP protection. (IGP means that the region and type of garlic are part of a Protected Geographical Indication.) Ajo Morado de Las Pedroñeras is a special breed from this area of Castilla-La Mancha, descended from cloves brought back from the crusades in the Middle Ages. It has a bright citrus taste and pleasant spiciness that make it one of the world’s finest garlics.

2. Saffron

If garlic is the humble yet powerful force of Spanish cuisine, saffron is the elegant princess from La Mancha. Over just a few days in October, untold numbers of beautiful purple crocus blossoms are picked by hand. The crimson stigmas of the flowers are plucked by hand, and then toasted to dry and preserve them. It takes over 150 flowers to yield just one gram of saffron threads, so it is not surprising that saffron is among the world’s most precious spices by weight (don’t let that intimidate you, a little bit goes a long way!). As with garlic, Spain has a special status for La Mancha saffron called a Protected Denomination of Origin.

Our friends Maria Angeles and Juan Antonio at Princesa de Minaya only cultivate a few hectares of crocuses and are fanatics about quality, producing only a few kilos per year. Theirs was named the finest saffron in Spain by a renowned culinary journal. We visited them in La Mancha and were gratified to learn that our orders helped rejuvenate the saffron business in their small town!

This delightful spice adds aroma and color to dozens of classic Spanish dishes. Of course, paella and other rice dishes are the most famous ways to serve saffron. Paella would be a simple rice dish without the golden color and floral notes added by a pinch of saffron! Because saffron releases its flavors and color in liquids, it is usually mixed with broths and sauces. Light soups and seafood stews are often seasoned with a sprinkle of saffron threads, and saffron is a key flavor in sauces such as saffron alioli.

Because of its value there are saffron fraudsters in the market. A few years ago, a man called me with an unbelievable deal on Spanish saffron. Skeptical, I asked him to send a sample. Surprisingly the saffron threads looked authentic, so I followed a simple method to test its quality. Sprinkling a few threads in cold water, I noticed that some of the stigmas immediately lost their red color. It turns out that corn silk was dyed with food coloring and mixed with saffron! The best way to guarantee you are buying quality real saffron is to look for the Denomination of Origin stamp of La Mancha, with its signature numbered crocus blossom symbol.

3. Pimentón de La Vera

Intensely smoky pimentón de La Vera is so much more than a type of paprika. This silky red powder is the signature spice of Spanish cuisine, seasoning virtually all the chorizo sausages, lomo pork loins, soups and stews across every part of Spain. Amazingly this spice is made in only one small region, the fertile valley of La Vera in Extremadura, along the banks of the Tiétar River.

Here the special micro-climate produces red peppers with a singular intensity, color and flavor. A few years ago, we visited our friends at La Dalia to see how pimentón was made. La Dalia was the first company to earn a protected Denomination of Origin, and the last to still use granite millstones to grind their paprika.

Owner José María Hernández welcomed us to the factory and let us in on the secrets of this pungent spice. At harvest time, beautifully ripe red peppers are delivered to the facilities from the nearby fields. The peppers are then spread out on the smoking floor. On the level below, logs and branches of holm oak smolder, filling the chamber with intensely aromatic smoke. It was fascinating to learn that the wood came from the nearby dehesa, from the same trees that produce acorns that feed the iconic Ibérico pigs of Spain. I am pleased that this primeval woodland supports two of Spain’s finest products: the fabled Ibérico de Bellota hams and smoked pimentón de La Vera. It is an example of the balance of man and nature at its finest.

After two full weeks of smoking, the dried peppers take on a burnt red color and are ready for milling. José María was proud to show us the granite millstones where the peppers are ground into a silky powder, unleashing the exceptionally smoky, rich flavor that seasons much of Spanish cuisine.

Spain is home to an amazing variety of regional foods, from the arroz caldoso seafood rice of Andalucía to the pulpo a la gallega (octopus with smoked paprika) of Galicia to the cured chorizo sausages of Logroño. The people of each region rightfully take pride in the food traditions that reflect the unique culture and heritage of their lands. The three essential flavors of garlic, saffron and pimentón tie these distinct cuisines together and form the foundation of what we call Spanish cuisine.

Stepping into a sherry bodega is a profound experience. The cavernous room is cool and dark, with columns climbing to the ancient ceiling, a cathedral of wine. Giant black barrels are stacked four high, many scribbled with chalk signatures of bullfighters, royalty and other visiting dignitaries. And the aroma is intoxicating. Over the centuries the winemakers of the sherry triangle have perfected the ‘solera’ system, fine tuning a family of exceptional styles, from bone-dry Manzanilla to nutty Amontillado, to raisin-sweet Pedro Ximénez.

This is also the birthplace of some of the world’s finest vinegars, meticulously barrel aged with a balance of bright acidity and mellowing oak. They are all created using the same ‘solera’ method, mixing a small amount of new vinegar with previous vintages, blending up to 50 years of exceptional vinegars.

Most Americans have not discovered sherry vinegar, opting for balsamic when they want to add something special to their salad or recipe. What they don’t know is that it is likely that a fraud may be lurking in their kitchen cabinet!

Did you know that genuine balsamic vinegar is only produced in two Italian villages: Modena and Reggio Emilia? Authentic balsamic vinegar is made from pressed grape-must from the first stage of winemaking. It is naturally fermented and then stored in barrels for a minimum of 12 years. The finest barrels of balsamic vinegar may have been aged up to 50 years or more. The deep, complex flavor is unrivaled.

If you want genuine balsamic, look for the letters DOP (Protected Denomination of Origin) on the label of your bottle, along with the words ‘di Modena’ or ‘di Reggio Emilia.’ These indicators show the vinegar is from a protected geographical location guaranteed by the Italian government. Authentic balsamic vinegar can cost as much is $200 for a 4-ounce bottle, depending on the age of the vinegar!

So how can your local supermarket offer a 12-ounce bottle of “balsamic vinegar” for $6.99? The secret is that anyone can call their vinegar “balsamic” as long as they don’t claim it is from the protected areas. Many of the mass-market vinegars are little more than ordinary wine vinegar mixed with food coloring and a sugar. The result is an overly sweet mockery of the true balsamic.

Not many of us can afford to invest hundreds of dollars for a bottle of vinegar! So what choice do we have? Not surprisingly this brings us back to the sherry bodegas of Andalucía.

Sherry vinegar has many similarities to authentic balsamic. Aged in barrels for decades, this vinegar has a profound complexity and balanced acidity. Like Modena and Reggio Emilia, sherry vinegar is protected with a DOP Vinagre de Jerez, one of only three protected vinegar styles in the world. But unlike DOP balsamico, sherry vinegar is quite affordable, even for the finest quality.

Years ago, we visited our friends Juan Carlos and his wife Carmen in their Gutiérrez Colosia bodega in El Puerto de Santa María. They brought us to a far corner to see some small casks of sherry vinegar. Juan Carlos opened a tap and poured us a little glass of amber vinegar. It was amazing! So complex, powerful and pungent.

They then showed us the particularly interesting Sherry Vinegar with a touch of Pedro Ximénez wine. Pedro Ximénez is made from grapes which are left to dry in the sun until they almost become raisins. The PX adds a subtle sweetness to the bright acidity of the Palomino sherry vinegar, creating a sweet-and-sour balance that is interesting and complex.

Since our visit years ago, I now use sherry vinegar in most of my cooking. Anointing fresh greens, adding zip to potato salad, bringing new complexity to gravies and sauces, and elevating marinades and soups. And the Pedro Ximénez sherry vinegar has completely replaced balsamic in my pantry.

Whenever I encourage a customer at our store to try our sherry vinegar, I enjoy seeing their surprise and delight as they experience the deep complexity of this unique vinegar. It finds its origins in the ancient solera system of the sherry towns of Andalucía, where time-tested methods and traditions are cherished, and quality is protected. I encourage you to add this amazing vinegar to your kitchen. You will not regret it!

Tu amigo,
Don

There is a saying that Madrid is Spain's biggest fishing port. Visit any food market in landlocked Madrid and you will understand why. Beautiful whole fish with crystal clear eyes stare up from their beds of ice, just hours after they were caught. Crabs and lobsters wiggle their antennae as razor clams push themselves along and try to escape their containers. When it comes to seafood, Spaniards expect quality and freshness. And they are willing to pay for it.

Spain consumes more seafood per person than any other country save Japan. When you look at a map it is not hard to see why – the Iberian Peninsula is nearly surrounded by ocean. For millennia the Spanish people have depended on the sea and this long tradition influences how people eat to this day.

Modern Spain depends on air shipments, refrigeration and plentiful mounds of ice to offer fresh seafood to cities and towns across the country. But long before refrigeration, the people of Spain used other methods to preserve and enjoy seafood far from fishing ports, long after the baskets of fish arrived at the market. Here are five examples of preserved seafood that are still treasured in Spain.

1. Mojama – Jamón of the Sea

Probably the most ancient fishing tradition in Spain is the Almadraba Bluefin tuna harvest in Andalucía. Every spring these giant fish head to the Mediterranean to spawn, passing by Gibraltar where the open Atlantic Ocean streams into the Mediterranean Sea. Since the time of the Phoenicians over 3,000 years ago, brave fishermen have used a series of nets to funnel the tuna into small holding areas where the men would wrestle them into their boats. The fishermen allow the smaller tuna to escape their nets for another day, and only the largest, fattest tuna are harvested (an ancient example of sustainable fishing). The beautiful whitewashed fishing villages of Zahara de los Atunes and Barbate continue the tradition to this day.

But what did they do with up to 800 pounds of valuable fish before cold storage? The answer lies in the salt flats of the Bahia de Cádiz, where the Phoenicians harvested sea salt since biblical times. The freshly caught tuna was coated in this salt and then hung to cure in the hot, dry winds of the area. We visited a tuna curing house in Barbate where they still hang salted tuna loins in the sun, right on the roof of the stone and stucco warehouse. The resulting cured tuna is called mojama. And not only the prime cuts of tuna were preserved - even the intestines were salted and dried, later to be chopped and added to soups for flavor and nutrients.

Nowadays mojama is most commonly made from yellowfin tuna loins (bluefin is much too rare and valuable, and many people choose not to eat this endangered fish). Fresh tuna is salted and hung to cure in modern temperature-controlled facilities with strict hygienic controls. This is a less romantic process than hanging the loins in the sun, but the quality and flavor is much better! This cured tuna is typically sliced very thinly and drizzled with extra virgin olive oil. It has a clean, intense tuna flavor that pairs perfectly with Marcona almonds and a glass of dry sherry. Mojama can also be grated and added to salads, soups and other recipes to add a nice umami flavor.

2. Bacalao – Spain’s Favorite Fish

Bacalao, or salted cod, is so much a part of Spanish culinary heritage that you almost never see fresh cod in Spain – the flavor of the salted cod is much preferred. At least 500 years ago, Basque fishermen learned how to preserve cod using sea salt. This was very important because they had discovered vast fisheries of cod far away in the Atlantic and needed a way to preserve the fish for the return journey. It is thought that they fished off of the coast of North America well before Columbus made his famous journey.

Fully salted bacalao became an invaluable source of protein in the Spanish diet by the 1500s. Because it could be transported vast distances without spoiling, bacalao reached every part of Spain and became a part of virtually every regional cuisine.

Today in Spain, bacalao is no longer the bone-dry salt cod of the past. Premium cuts of bacalao are served at Spain’s finest restaurants and you can even get bacalao that is salted, then pre-soaked and frozen so that it is ready for your favorite recipe of Bacalao al Pil Pil or Bacalao Ajoarriero.

3. Bonito del Norte Tuna – The Basque Beauty

In Spain, Bonito del Norte is considered the finest quality tuna because of its very white meat and rich flavor – maybe that is how it earned the name bonito, meaning “beautiful.” From the Albacore family, these small tunas migrate from the Atlantic into the Bay of Biscay every summer to feast on anchovies and other small fish. When they are well fattened, fishermen from the Basque Country head out in their boats and catch them using individual fishing rods, pulling them one-by-one from the ocean. Since no nets are used there is no by-catch and the fish do not struggle as much. The resulting tuna is mild and delicate with a delicious flavor.

An artisan canning tradition developed in the Basque region to preserve this valuable catch. In small facilities not far from where the fishing boats unload their catch, the tuna is cleaned and then poached in seawater. Pieces of tuna are cut by hand and placed in jars and cans which are then filled with olive oil. My favorite part of the Bonito del Norte is the "ventresca," impossibly buttery fillets of tuna cut from the belly of the fish.

Spanish seafood fanatics know a secret – the longer you keep a can of seafood, the more the flavors mature and the more the olive oil penetrates the meat. I was really surprised to learn that “old” canned seafood is considered the best! It goes to show how serious Spanish customers are about the quality of their seafood that canned tuna garners so much appreciation.

4. Anchovies – Little Fish, Big Flavor

Anchovies in the United States have a bad reputation, which is a shame because a well-preserved anchovy is a thing of beauty. When I was young I had a bad experience with a slice of pizza covered in anchovies, so it took quite a bit to convert me to the anchovy fan that I am today!

What makes Spanish anchovies so amazing is the Spanish reverence for this delicate little fish. In the Basque Country and Cataluña fresh anchovies are filleted by hand and packed in sea salt for six months to cure. The fillets are then cleaned again and packed by hand in olive oil. An aside - I remember visiting a facility near the Bay of Biscay where several Spanish women were standing around a table, cleaning each fish by hand. The owner told me that in the interest of efficiency he does not allow the ladies to chat while they are working together, which I thought of as cruel and unusual punishment!

Once packed, the anchovies are carefully stored in refrigeration until the moment they are served. The resulting fillets are silky smooth and rich with umami flavor. They are best served simply as a tapa with fresh bread, so the taste of the anchovies can be savored and appreciated. Tossing them on a cheap pizza would be sacrilege! (Never use anchovies from the grocery store shelf - the lukewarm temperatures break down the flavor and texture of the fish.)

Another way to preserve anchovies is to pack them in wine vinegar and olive oil. This effectively pickles them, turning the fillets white. These are called ‘boquerones’ in Spain and have a refreshing, tangy flavor. I call this the ‘gateway anchovy’ because of their mild, delicate taste.

5. Galician Shellfish – Luxury from a Shell

The Rías Baixas of Galicia are a paradise for seafood. These fjord-like estuaries are where the cool Atlantic waters mix with fresh river water, creating an ideal habitat for a variety of clams and mussels. The shellfish from this region are so prized across Spain that the hand-packed canned almejas (large clams) and berberechos (cockles) sell at caviar level prices.

I remember visiting the small port town of O Grove and witnessing the local aquaculture first hand. As the tide retreated from the Ría de Arousa it exposed rectangular plots staked out in the sand near the beach. Believe it or not, our host explained that each area belongs to an individual or family. The plots are seeded with baby clams each season, and then carefully tended to remove seaweed and predators like crabs and starfish. After 12 to 24 months the clams are large enough to be harvested by hand with special rakes.

The fishermen deliver the clams to the market where the largest, plumpest ones are selected for canning. The same day the clams are steamed and removed from the shell by hand, then artfully placed in a tin and packed in natural brine.

It is surprising to most Americans that canned clams are so prized (and costly). But in Spain the exquisite quality of this delicacy is fully appreciated. Some bars and restaurants offer Galician canned seafood as their featured fare, serving opened tins for north of 50 euros each. One such establishment is Espinaler, located in Barcelona, 600 miles from the ports of Galicia. They feature excellent canned seafood from Galicia served alongside their famous vermouth. The fact that such a distant eatery showcases this special canned seafood speaks to its popularity across Spain.

I have always been impressed by the reverence paid to seafood in Spain. The people of each seaside city along the vast coastline of Spain take pride in their local seafood and they demand freshness and quality. Almejas from O Grove, gambas blancas from Huelva, anchoas from L’Escala, almadraba from Barbate, bonito del norte from Getaria – the best examples of Spanish seafood are each tied to a specific place and culture. So, it is not surprising that the traditional methods of preserving seafood are practiced with this same pride and focus on quality.

¡Buen Provecho!
Jonathan Harris

Sometimes Spain’s culture and cuisine can seem eternal and unchanging. I recently feasted on roasted lamb in the shadow of the Roman aqueduct in Segovia. It wasn’t hard to imagine a similar meal occurring a hundred or even a thousand years ago!

Of course, this is just one part of the Spanish culinary scene. Spain is very much at the vanguard of modern cuisine with chefs such as Ferran Adrià and Elena Arzak deconstructing Spanish dishes to create stunning molecular gastronomy and twenty course tasting menu concepts. Still, outside the cutting-edge, much of what happens in Spain’s restaurants and tapas bars can feel timeless.

What interests me most right now are the dishes and drinks that seem like classic Spanish fare but are actually more recent innovations. Here are a few of my favorite examples from recent travels to Spain.

1. Fresh Acorn-fed Ibérico Pork
If you’ve traveled to Spain in the last decade you may have ordered a plate of grilled acorn-fed Ibérico pork, so marbled with fat and deep red in color that you could mistake it for a steak. Since Ibérico pigs are native to Spain, hasn’t this always been a popular dish? Actually, until recently, eating cooked Ibérico pork was quite unusual. This is because traditionally almost every cut of pork was salted and hung to dry, eventually becoming cured ham or sausage to be enjoyed later in the year. Even the blood was preserved, mixed with rice and turned into morcilla sausage. The only time you might have had the privilege of eating this incredible pork was on the day of the “sacrifice.” In the last couple of decades Ibérico pork began appearing on menus across Spain, from chops to tenderloins. I even enjoyed a plate of Ibérico carpaccio! Nowadays this incredible pork is so widely available you wouldn’t know that it was a rare delicacy.

2. Spectacular Gin & Tonic Cocktails
Step up to a bar in Madrid or Barcelona and order a ‘GinTonic’ and you will probably receive a large frosty goblet of premium gin and boutique tonic seasoned with botanicals like cardamom or juniper berries. Sometimes I find this frustrating because it can take a bartender ten minutes to assemble his masterpiece while I thirstily await my refreshing cocktail! Gin & tonic has always been a popular drink in Spain, but in the last ten years it has morphed from a simple refreshing drink served with a slice of lime into the impressive cocktail you find today.

3. Fried Artichoke Chips
Crispy fried wafers of fresh artichoke served with a refreshing drink is a newly popular tapa that deserves to become a classic. During our recent trip to the Alimentaria food show in Barcelona it seemed like fried artichokes were featured at every tapas bar we visited. Hopefully in a few years it will be so ubiquitous that we will start presuming that it was always a favorite!

4. Chuleton de Buey
These enormous steaks come from old steer (old ox is probably the correct term) that live ten or more years in the countryside of northern Spain, most famously in Galicia. The beef is aged for several weeks until it is exceptionally tender and flavorful. Cut into two-inch-thick slabs, the steaks are seared on a hot grill and served rare. You can find ‘chuleton de buey’ featured in restaurants across Spain commanding over $60 apiece. This carnivore’s dream must be a longstanding tradition in Spain, right?

Actually, it is a fairly recent trend to feature ‘buey’ as popular restaurant fare. Historically oxen were a valuable part of farming, pulling plows across the fields and carts of grain and hay during the harvest. Only after their useful working lives, often well over ten years of age, were they sacrificed and eaten – thus the origin of this culinary tradition. As farming became mechanized, oxen began to disappear from the countryside. Only recently was the tradition revived and expanded. Now oxen are raised expressly for their meat – we actually visited a couple of these massive beasts after a meal at the famous El Capricho restaurant near Astorga – I have a photo of my daughters Anna Bell and Sarah patting one of them! The popularity of buey has grown so much that there are not enough oxen, and older cows are also hitting the menu – care for a plate of vaca vieja?

5. Jamón Ibérico de Bellota
Well, it is not really true that Spain’s iconic ham is new, but official quality designations are surprisingly recent. Acorn-fed Ibérico pigs have been turned into delicious hams for thousands of years – I even saw a mural in a 12th century church showing a pig herder knocking down acorns for his hogs. But until relatively recently there was no distinction between Jamón Ibérico or Jamón Serrano – there was only jamón! The white pigs that are used for Serrano were only introduced in the last 100 years or so. Before that, all hams came from Ibérico stock. As far as quality, you had to trust your supplier because there was little oversight of the industry.

As Serrano hams took over the market there were a lot of fraudulent producers that would try and sell their cheaper hams as the more valuable ‘pata negra’ or black-hoofed, acorn-fed hams. There were even rumors that suppliers were painting the hooves on the hams black to fool customers! Not until the early 2000’s were national laws put in place to protect the quality of hams, and a new even stricter set of regulations only came into effect in January of 2014. So, the advent of Jamón Ibérico de Bellota ham that is of verified breed and certified to be labelled correctly only arrived in the last several years.

Continuity and Change

The amazing thing about Spain’s cuisine is how much has been preserved. Because Spain industrialized fairly late, many of the old food traditions still thrive. Ancient parts of the Spanish countryside such as the ‘dehesa’ oak forests and La Doñana wetlands have survived and continue to sustain the special plants and animals that define Iberian cuisine. To this day each region of the country, and often each town or village, takes pride in the unique products of their area. Whether you are nibbling on the famous cured sausage from the village of Fuet, or the hazelnut turrón candy only found in the town of Agramunt, you are enjoying a taste of Spain’s history and ancient culture.

That said, without change and innovation many of these traditions might fade into obscurity. The hyper-modern menus at Spain’s avant garde restaurants nearly always elevate the fundamentals of Spain’s cuisine, from deconstructing gazpacho and its garnishes, to featuring frosty green frozen olive ice cream as a dessert. By doing so they highlight the depth and breadth of Spain’s food traditions.

I can’t wait for my next trip to taste the new ways that the profound and diverse flavors of Spain are refreshed and elevated by chefs and artisans across the country. Thanks to the support of our customers, we are able to offer these special foods, and in our small way we hope to help sustain Spanish artisans as they preserve and adapt the traditions that make theirs one of the finest cuisines in the world.

¡­Buen Provecho!
Jonathan Harris

By this time, I am sure many of you have heard about the Camino de Santiago, perhaps from watching the poignant feature film ‘The Way’ by Martin Sheen, about a man’s journey by foot on this ancient trail across northern Spain. (Martin Sheen’s original family name was Estevez; his father was born in Galicia). In the movie, the character walks with several fellow pilgrims, each with their own reason for walking the route – some for the exercise, some for spiritual reasons and others who sought a new beginning.

Many years ago, I became aware of the pilgrimage experience through my son Jonathan who, as a college student, walked the 500 miles from France across northern Spain to Galicia. That was 1993 – twenty-five years ago. Since then hundreds of our friends, many of them La Tienda customers, have also chosen to walk all or part of the Camino. The road to St. James (Santiago) is such an authentic expression of the Spanish experience that we chose the shell of St. James as part of the La Tienda trademark and named our private label Peregrino, the Spanish term for pilgrim.

Last month, we were pleased to host author Yosmar Martínez at our store in Williamsburg to share her love of the Camino and to introduce her splendid book 'Tastes of the Camino.' She is a Paris trained chef, now living in Miami, who has walked the most traveled French route four times. Along the way, she gathered 30 authentic recipes while dining in some of the most significant towns on the Camino. At the book signing, we met dozens of people from all walks of life who shared a common interest in the Camino.

There were students and professors, members of Navy and Army families, artists, devout Catholics, motorcycle enthusiasts, bicyclists and more! It was quite a diverse group, perhaps similar to folks you would meet if you were walking along The Way. In one way or another, the lives of many of them had been touched by the Camino. It was quite an enthusiastic group, and though many had never met before, there was a strong sense of camaraderie. No matter their background or motivation, the Camino experience had profoundly influenced their lives.

My friend Paul, a member of our La Tienda "family" was also in town. I have gotten to know him quite well over the past few years, chatting about our shared love for Spain and of course the Camino. Each time he would earnestly relate how the pilgrimage was continuing to bring new depth to his life. Paul has gone on four different treks and is now preparing to travel the Portuguese pilgrimage road to Santiago. This time it will be a short trip because he has invited his local pastor to travel with him, and his friend has only a limited amount of time to set aside for the trip.

Prior to his first trip along The Way, Paul's extended family had suffered a shattering experience: his nephew suffered a fall which left him paralyzed from the neck down. Still sorting out the implications of that fall, Paul decided to dedicate his walk to support the young man in the only way he knew. As he walked through towns and villages, past vineyards and wheat fields, he would find opportunities to share with other pilgrims what was on his heart and ask them to keep his cousin in their prayers.

One of the people who attended the Yosmar Martínez book signing told me another profound story. He had suffered a terrible motorcycle crash a few years ago. After months of recovery, he decided to walk the Camino de Santiago to prove to himself that he was physically and mentally tough enough to take on the challenge. What started as a physical challenge turned into a spiritual journey that changed his life. In the last few years he has returned multiple times and is now planning on expanding to other pilgrimage routes.

Another man my son Jonathan met was a Dutch land-use mediator. He spent many years negotiating between farmers, helping to consolidate their small plots into large fields that could be efficiently farmed to increase yields. You can imagine the tense interchanges as farmers were told they had to tear down ancient stone walls and abandon their traditions in the name of modern agriculture.

The Dutchman was so drained by the process that he decided to put on a backpack and walk out his front door. He ended up walking all the way across northern Europe and Spain until he reached Santiago de Compostela. This journey through the beautiful countryside of Spain, which he shared with other pilgrims from across the world, helped him to renew his spirit.

The Camino de Santiago is an ancient religious pilgrimage route that began over 1,000 years ago. At the time Jerusalem was in the hands of the Muslims, and Rome had been trashed by the invading Vandals. Since it was not safe for the faithful to travel to these former hallowed sites, Santiago de Compostela became the prime choice. The bones of St. James, the brother of Jesus, were deemed a suitable alternative goal for the pilgrims.

The pilgrimage literally transformed the landscape and settlement patterns of Spain. The modern Camino is busier than ever, with pilgrims from across the globe following the path to the ancient city of Santiago de Compostela. Many are no longer walking for religious reasons, but everyone who makes the journey comes away transformed in some way. We were honored to host Yosmar Martínez and some of these pilgrims and to learn of their stories at our store in Williamsburg. Special thanks to our friend Professor George Greenia, who continues year after year to share his love of the Camino de Santiago with all whom he meets. La Tienda hosted the first Camino reunion that George inspired – that was in the 1990s!

¡Buen viaje, amigos!

This is a reprint of one of Don's favorite articles, inspired by the recent Las Fallas festival! Don will be back next month with a new article.

Dear Friends of La Tienda,

Valencia was my first port of call as a young Navy chaplain (and newlywed). Every chance I got I would leave the ship and stroll the cobblestoned streets of the Gothic Quarter. I liked catching glimpses of what life in the historic port of Valencia has been for centuries. Our young sailors, members of the crews of my destroyer squadron, explored the waterfront as mariners have for as long as there have been seaports.

However, this was not an ordinary port visit. We had tied up to the pier in time for the week of the fiesta of Las Fallas, and the people of Valencia were eager for all of us to become part of this fabulous event.

The Las Fallas fiesta of Valencia is an astonishing farewell to winter. Only those who have actually seen it can believe it. Some 700 fallas, large papier-mâché monuments mounted over wooden frames, are burnt to cinders on the 19th of March, the festival of San José, the patron saint of carpenters.

In the Middle Ages, as the days became shorter, artisans and carpenters of Valencia had to spend the last few hours of their workday laboring by the light of oil lamps hanging from crafted wooden stands called parots. When spring arrived and the days became longer, the lamps and wooden stands were no longer necessary. As part of spring cleaning, the carpenters would routinely burn the parots, standing them up in the midst of wooden shavings and scraps of lumber.

Over time, these workers made a ritual of the event, adding an individual touch by festooning the lampstands with rags and a hat, which evolved into some resemblance of a doll or human form. Such a figure, often depicting some person of authority in the neighborhood, came to be known as a ninot falla, or fire doll. As the centuries went by, the local fires became spectacular blazes that encompass the city each spring.

You can imagine there was not much work being done aboard my US Navy destroyer squadron, except for some poor unfortunates chipping paint or tending the boilers. Each day when the rest of us went ashore, we found the air electric with excitement. All but essential work was already coming to a halt throughout the city, since virtually everyone in Valencia was involved in the fiesta, in one way or another. Many people had been preparing for Las Fallas all year long.

So I spent my free time during the port visit strolling from one plaza to another exploring this ancient port. In one area, I was attracted to clusters of people gathering in classic old stores with checkerboard marble floors. You know the ones – mirrors on the walls – like ice cream parlors 50-60 years ago in America. Their parents and grandparents must have visited these shops in their youth.

From the several shops came the sweet aroma of buñuelos (pumpkin crullers), a native Valencian treat. Delighted revelers were consuming them as fast as the pastries could be made. In some shops, the buñuelos were served with horchata, a local white chufa nut drink. Customers in other shops enjoyed the fresh pastries with wonderful rich hot chocolate a la taza. (That was my choice).

The production of each falla (the monument, not the fiesta in general) is organized by falleros, a group of neighbors from a specific barrio who are responsible for producing the falla and arranging their individual program so that everyone can join in the preparations. They hold meetings, pay dues and seek sponsors to contribute money for their part of the festival. Throughout the months of preparation they gather in a sort of clubhouse in the neighborhood. On the walls would be framed photographs and trophies they earned in years past.

The neighborhoods compete with each other to build the most fantastic ninots (giant papier-mâché images) as a unit within the larger falla. The ninots are often grotesque dolls or figurines, made in a "wise guy" tone, mocking local politicians, clergy or others in authority. The ninots can be several stories high, can take months to build and in some cases can cost upwards of $100,000. A large number of them are on the "racy" side. A local Valencian remarked to my friend, Penelope Casas, "You really have to be born and bred in Valencia to appreciate the bad taste of Las Fallas."

In contrast, but integral to the fallas, are the falleras, young maidens dressed in traditional costume. Since the Community of Valencia proudly claims to be the only region in Spain that still does silk weaving on manual looms, many of the young girls wear delicate damasks, brocades and shawls of flowered silk intertwined with silver and gold thread. Dressed in their finery, they process with baskets of flowers to present Nuestra Señora de los Desamparados (Our Lady of the Abandoned or Helpless), the patron saint of Valencia.

During this time, the square around the basilica is ablaze with color. The Plaza of the Virgin is transformed into a bower of flowers – even the façade of the basilica is carpeted with blooms. In the center is a huge 50 foot image of the Virgin made completely of flowers.

The festival culminates in the eagerly anticipated crema (burning) on the night of San José, March 19th, where hundreds of works of communal labor and artistry go up in smoke! By popular acclaim, one of the ninot comical figures is saved and placed in a ninot museum, a sort of Hall of Fame.

A crowd gathers at the Plaza Del País. Smoke and haze have settled over the city from random fires and the gunpowder used in the rockets. Soon people become impatient with anticipation, and break into rhythmic applause followed by whistles and jeers as the hour passes, and there is still no crema, the final burning.

Suddenly all the lights in the Plaza are extinguished, and the crowd roars in approval. Fireworks illuminate the night, strings of firecrackers set off brilliant sparks and colored rockets soar in the air, exploding thunderously. Over three hundred bonfires are lit throughout the city, and the noise produced by the accompanying fireworks is deafening.

Each falla (the huge wooden monument), becomes enveloped by smoke and flames. As the breezes blow and the air clears, the fire burns hot and the heat is intense. The base of the falla is the last to ignite and in a flash, the structure collapses. After initial roars of approval, the crowd begins singing the Valencian anthem.

To tell the truth, none of the ship's company was around for the climax of the fallas, when literally hundreds of blazing structures light up the sky. The commodore wisely decided to get our destroyers under way just before that day. The sailors had so much fun with the Valencians that they were physically exhausted. With this in mind, and a six-month deployment ahead, our admiral decided it was prudent for the crew to get some rest at sea! Therefore, I owe the description of the climactic events to others who have been there, including my good friend Penelope Casas.

While it is true that I did not experience every minute of Las Fallas, the precious memories of my first days in Spain provided a lasting introduction to the warm and generous culture which I have since found throughout Spain.

My best to you and those you love,
Don