Rioja
All the hard-to-find ingredients for the dishes from Rioja can be ordered from Tienda.com (888/472-1022; www.tienda.com). The Palacios brand of Spanish chorizo, made in the Rioja region, is the only authentic Spanish chorizo imported into the United States. Buy two 6.5-ounce packages or "Oreados" mini chorizos ($5.49 each) for the potatoes stewed with paprika and chorizo. Sweet Spanish paprika costs $4.95 per 2.8-ounce tin, and "wood-fired" piquillo peppers cost $7.95 per 8-ounce jar.
Eating Around
Spanish Cheese
Katy McLaughlin
Spanish food is having its heyday, with tapas bars springing up in every city. But the dirty little secret of many Spanish restaurants is that they often serve fake cuisine, like spicy dishes, which Spaniards hardly ever eat, and misplaced Mexican items like tortilla chips. That's changing with a huge influx of imports. Sales of Spanish cheese are up 65% since 2000, by volume. While that's great for Spanish exporters, it's about the last thing Americans need-we already put back about 30 pounds of cheese a year.
Iberian options for American cheese eaters:
Tienda.com - Idiazabal Sheep's Cheese Lightly Smoked: By Spanish law, this cheese can only be made from the unpasteurized milk of one breed of sheep in and around the Basque country.
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Katy McLaughlin
Spanish food is having its heyday, with tapas bars springing up in every city. But the dirty little secret of many Spanish restaurants is that they often serve fake cuisine, like spicy dishes, which Spaniards hardly ever eat, and misplaced Mexican items like tortilla chips. That's changing with a huge influx of imports. Sales of Spanish cheese are up 65% since 2000, by volume. While that's great for Spanish exporters, it's about the last thing Americans need-we already put back about 30 pounds of cheese a year.
Iberian options for American cheese eaters:
Tienda.com - Idiazabal Sheep's Cheese Lightly Smoked: By Spanish law, this cheese can only be made from the unpasteurized milk of one breed of sheep in and around the Basque country.
Nuts for Marcona Almonds
Spanish Variety is Rounder, More Luscious Than California Types
By Rick Nichols
Michele Buster found it curious that although she had never been a particular fan of California almonds, in Spain she was instantly drawn to a blond, lightly fried almond called the marcona.
It was rounder and not as pointy. It was softer and chewier, closer to the juicy bite of a pine nut. And it had a lush, sensual flavor, given wing by a naturally higher oil content and finishing slick of olive oil (sunflower oil is used for exports) and sea salt.
You may have encountered this irresistible almond yourself. In less than two years, in large part because of Buster's efforts, it has climbed the pop charts, playing phenomenally well (even though the price -- close to $10 a pound -- is double that of ordinary almonds) in upscale venues: specialty stores, cheese shops and gourmet counters.
It is difficult, having sampled a marcona almond, to walk away. I buy small bags now, conscious that I'll dig through an entire half-pound tub if one's on the table.
The Peanut Shop of Williamsburg, Va., liked them so much it bought them by the ton, tinned them and added them to its national line. (Don Harris of Tienda, the distributor who arranged the deal, told me the marconas had also been a boon to his own Spanish products mail-order business -- www.tienda.com.)
Buster was a college student in 1984 when she went off to Valencia and encountered the marcona almond. Years later, she went into the cheese business in New York and started importing Spanish cheeses, olive oils and fig cakes.
In 2001, she added the marcona almonds to the product line, starting with 20 11-pound cases, then jumping to 240, then 500, and now thousands.
The marcona is just one of several Spanish almond varieties, the sweet, longer largueta being another. Its white blossoms fill the Spanish spring, most vividly in the country's southeastern reaches from Valencia south toward Málaga, where the finest of Spain's chalky turrones -- the marcona almond-dappled nougats of honey and egg whites -- are made each fall.
Tapas bars sometimes serve them with dried tuna. But more commonly they're paired with grilled pecorino, honey and pears; sheep's-milk manchego cheese and a lemony quince paste called membrillo; or sweet clementines.
Not until the September harvest is past and the turrón makers have taken their share are the marconas available for the export market.
Their sudden popularity has caused frustrations. Traditionally, they have been lightly fried -- they're too fragile to roast -- in 75-pound batches. Scaling up the artisanal process has left shipments (including the Mitica brand that Buster wholesales) swimming in too much oil, others too dry, others "bald" from premature salt loss.
Nature hasn't helped. Europe's searingly hot summer last year ruined 40 percent of the almond crop, frying it on the trees.
Read more
By Rick Nichols
Michele Buster found it curious that although she had never been a particular fan of California almonds, in Spain she was instantly drawn to a blond, lightly fried almond called the marcona.
It was rounder and not as pointy. It was softer and chewier, closer to the juicy bite of a pine nut. And it had a lush, sensual flavor, given wing by a naturally higher oil content and finishing slick of olive oil (sunflower oil is used for exports) and sea salt.
You may have encountered this irresistible almond yourself. In less than two years, in large part because of Buster's efforts, it has climbed the pop charts, playing phenomenally well (even though the price -- close to $10 a pound -- is double that of ordinary almonds) in upscale venues: specialty stores, cheese shops and gourmet counters.
It is difficult, having sampled a marcona almond, to walk away. I buy small bags now, conscious that I'll dig through an entire half-pound tub if one's on the table.
The Peanut Shop of Williamsburg, Va., liked them so much it bought them by the ton, tinned them and added them to its national line. (Don Harris of Tienda, the distributor who arranged the deal, told me the marconas had also been a boon to his own Spanish products mail-order business -- www.tienda.com.)
Buster was a college student in 1984 when she went off to Valencia and encountered the marcona almond. Years later, she went into the cheese business in New York and started importing Spanish cheeses, olive oils and fig cakes.
In 2001, she added the marcona almonds to the product line, starting with 20 11-pound cases, then jumping to 240, then 500, and now thousands.
The marcona is just one of several Spanish almond varieties, the sweet, longer largueta being another. Its white blossoms fill the Spanish spring, most vividly in the country's southeastern reaches from Valencia south toward Málaga, where the finest of Spain's chalky turrones -- the marcona almond-dappled nougats of honey and egg whites -- are made each fall.
Tapas bars sometimes serve them with dried tuna. But more commonly they're paired with grilled pecorino, honey and pears; sheep's-milk manchego cheese and a lemony quince paste called membrillo; or sweet clementines.
Not until the September harvest is past and the turrón makers have taken their share are the marconas available for the export market.
Their sudden popularity has caused frustrations. Traditionally, they have been lightly fried -- they're too fragile to roast -- in 75-pound batches. Scaling up the artisanal process has left shipments (including the Mitica brand that Buster wholesales) swimming in too much oil, others too dry, others "bald" from premature salt loss.
Nature hasn't helped. Europe's searingly hot summer last year ruined 40 percent of the almond crop, frying it on the trees.
CBS - Spain at the click of a mouse
Feb 14, 2004 2:57 pm US/Eastern
Anthony Dias Blue
New York - I just ran across a great website where you can buy all sorts of food products from Spain. It's called TIENDA.COM - that's spelled T-I-E-N-D-A.com. "Tienda" is Spanish for "boutique" or "shop", and this cyber-shop has really interesting Spanish foodstuffs such as fresh and dried chorizo sausages, beautiful Serrano hams, Spanish saffron, and canned goods.
You can also get the equipment you need for preparing Spanish cuisine at home, such as paella pans, and a paella burner for cooking paella outdoors on your patio. They also sell those ham-holders that you see in Spanish tapas bars. You can also order Spanish wines to go with your food products - bottles like Riojas from Bodegas Montecillo, cavas from Segura Viudas or Sherries from Osborne. These wines can be purchased separately, or in gift baskets with food items. Check out tienda.com and, as they say in Spanish, buen provecho!
(MMIV, CBS Broadcasting Inc., All Rights Reserved.)
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Anthony Dias Blue
New York - I just ran across a great website where you can buy all sorts of food products from Spain. It's called TIENDA.COM - that's spelled T-I-E-N-D-A.com. "Tienda" is Spanish for "boutique" or "shop", and this cyber-shop has really interesting Spanish foodstuffs such as fresh and dried chorizo sausages, beautiful Serrano hams, Spanish saffron, and canned goods.
You can also get the equipment you need for preparing Spanish cuisine at home, such as paella pans, and a paella burner for cooking paella outdoors on your patio. They also sell those ham-holders that you see in Spanish tapas bars. You can also order Spanish wines to go with your food products - bottles like Riojas from Bodegas Montecillo, cavas from Segura Viudas or Sherries from Osborne. These wines can be purchased separately, or in gift baskets with food items. Check out tienda.com and, as they say in Spanish, buen provecho!
(MMIV, CBS Broadcasting Inc., All Rights Reserved.)
La Tienda
Chris Flores
Don Harris was thrilled last week when Smithfield Foods bought a 15 percent stake in Spain’s largest hog company, Campofrio Alimentacion. The Harris family business, Williamsburg based Tienda (Spanish for “store”), was the first Campofrio retailer in the United States. Harris, who spent about three years in Spain while he was a chaplain in the Navy, started Tienda in 1996. The company sells Spanish food and products online at www.tienda.com and has a small store at its warehouse in Williamsburg.
Q: What kind of marketing do you do?
A: We actually don’t do any marketing, other than getting placed high on Google searches; but otherwise, it’s all word of mouth. All of our products are from Spain, and some of our products are not available in the most places in the U.S. So one part of the market is Spaniards whose culture revolves around food, and now they can find it.
Q: How do you decide which new products to add?
A: You have to become very familiar with the culture of Spain, and that involves going over there often. If you were to open a store for Americans in Afghanistan, you would include something like Skippy peanut butter or Coca Cola – staple American products. We started with one of the signature products of Spain, jamon Serrano country ham.
Q: What are your biggest distribution challenges?
A: You’re dealing with two different cultures. The Spanish are interested in homemade quality, and they find all of our regulations irrational. So you have to encourage them to conform. Because if they don’t fill out the forms and don’t register with the USDA (U.S. Department of Agriculture), they can’t get in.
Q: Why did you start selling Campofrio products, and what does the Smithfield deal mean to your business?
A: Our current focus is to bring in the ultimate Spanish ham, jamon iberico, or pata negra, which means “black-footed pigs.” It’s never come into the U.S., and it’s the ultimate delicacy, and as we are the first to bring jamon Serrano, now we’re going to be the first with iberico. So we looked all around to see who was capable of doing that, and Campofrio has the capital necessary to build an entirely new plant for a slaughterhouse and curing facility. We’re delighted about the Smithfield deal because it means that Smithfield is interested in Spain, and Spain is recognizing the American market.
Q: Has getting mentioned in cooking magazines helped gain new customers?
A: Absolutely. That is what’s changed. Our immediate market was expatriate Spaniards. Next are people who were stationed in Spain and traveled in Spain. Now with the cooking magazines, we’re gaining another market that knows nothing about Spain, and they’re very Anglo. We’ve been fortunate because there are a variety of things going on now with Mediterranean diets, which include olive oil. Tapas are in fashion now, and so is paella.
Read more
Don Harris was thrilled last week when Smithfield Foods bought a 15 percent stake in Spain’s largest hog company, Campofrio Alimentacion. The Harris family business, Williamsburg based Tienda (Spanish for “store”), was the first Campofrio retailer in the United States. Harris, who spent about three years in Spain while he was a chaplain in the Navy, started Tienda in 1996. The company sells Spanish food and products online at www.tienda.com and has a small store at its warehouse in Williamsburg.
Q: What kind of marketing do you do?
A: We actually don’t do any marketing, other than getting placed high on Google searches; but otherwise, it’s all word of mouth. All of our products are from Spain, and some of our products are not available in the most places in the U.S. So one part of the market is Spaniards whose culture revolves around food, and now they can find it.
Q: How do you decide which new products to add?
A: You have to become very familiar with the culture of Spain, and that involves going over there often. If you were to open a store for Americans in Afghanistan, you would include something like Skippy peanut butter or Coca Cola – staple American products. We started with one of the signature products of Spain, jamon Serrano country ham.
Q: What are your biggest distribution challenges?
A: You’re dealing with two different cultures. The Spanish are interested in homemade quality, and they find all of our regulations irrational. So you have to encourage them to conform. Because if they don’t fill out the forms and don’t register with the USDA (U.S. Department of Agriculture), they can’t get in.
Q: Why did you start selling Campofrio products, and what does the Smithfield deal mean to your business?
A: Our current focus is to bring in the ultimate Spanish ham, jamon iberico, or pata negra, which means “black-footed pigs.” It’s never come into the U.S., and it’s the ultimate delicacy, and as we are the first to bring jamon Serrano, now we’re going to be the first with iberico. So we looked all around to see who was capable of doing that, and Campofrio has the capital necessary to build an entirely new plant for a slaughterhouse and curing facility. We’re delighted about the Smithfield deal because it means that Smithfield is interested in Spain, and Spain is recognizing the American market.
Q: Has getting mentioned in cooking magazines helped gain new customers?
A: Absolutely. That is what’s changed. Our immediate market was expatriate Spaniards. Next are people who were stationed in Spain and traveled in Spain. Now with the cooking magazines, we’re gaining another market that knows nothing about Spain, and they’re very Anglo. We’ve been fortunate because there are a variety of things going on now with Mediterranean diets, which include olive oil. Tapas are in fashion now, and so is paella.
Exotic ingredients are a click away
Regina Schrambling, Special to The Times
Whether you're looking for fenugreek leaves or African bird peppers, real Muenster cheese or Spanish saffron, these are a few websites selling ingredients that make recipes from other countries as accessible as Betty Crocker's....
Tienda.com specializes in Spanish products, such as piquillo peppers, paprikas, bacalao, chorizo and those olive oils that go so well with potatoes, and it too has a good recipe database.
Copyright 2004 Los Angeles Times
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Whether you're looking for fenugreek leaves or African bird peppers, real Muenster cheese or Spanish saffron, these are a few websites selling ingredients that make recipes from other countries as accessible as Betty Crocker's....
Tienda.com specializes in Spanish products, such as piquillo peppers, paprikas, bacalao, chorizo and those olive oils that go so well with potatoes, and it too has a good recipe database.
Copyright 2004 Los Angeles Times
Best of the Year: Spanish Cusine
Rioja. Manchego. Tapas. The foods and wines of Spain have slowly been making their way into our culinary consciousness over the past decade, but they've really gained market share in the past year. Chef Jose Andres of Jaleo restaurant in Washington, D.C., is one of the masters of his seductive style of cooking -- taste it in this delicious menu of earthy and robust flavors.
Chef Andres's Essential Spanish Flavors
"Traditional Spanish cooking is based on home cooking more than anything," says Jose Andres. "It's very down-to-earth." Making Spanish food at home may mean never having to buy fancy ingredients, but here are two from this Catalon-infected menu [Andres trained in Spain's Catalonia region] that may be unfamiliar -- though not for long. While essential in Andres and other Spanish kitchens, they are also hot properties in restaurant kitchens around the country
PIMENTÓN
Andres says that comparing this Spanish smoked paprika to the supermarkets variety is like, "comparing it to red powder." Pimentón is the sweetly smokly flavor in everything from chorizo sausage to paella. Try it in the romesco sauce in this menu. Look for dulce [sweet] and de la Vera on the label: Peppers from the La Vera region are always smoke-dried; in other regions they are sun-dried.
SHERRY VINEGAR
Made from Spain's exquisite fortified wines, Sherry wine vinegar has the sharp acidity and lightness of wine vinegar and the complexity of aged balsamic. Caramel and oak undertones are reminders of the aged Sherry it's made from and of the barrels that vinegar itself is aged in. Sherry vinegar is fundamental to gazpacho; it also makes a delicious vinaigrette and a nearly instant sauce for the Roasted Red Peppers with Garlic [see recipe].
These ingredients are available from Tienda.com
Williamsburg Shop Imports Spanish Meats
Rebecca Jones The Virginian-Pilot
As the saying goes, the world just keeps getting smaller and smaller, and a Williamsburg-based online retailer specializing in gourmet foods from Spain is here to add credence to the adage.
Tienda Inc. provides a selection of more than 500 food products, many of which are not generally available outside of Spain.
The company's newest additions are pork products made by Madrid-based Grupo Campofrio, the largest meat producer in Spain. One of those products is dry Jamon Serrano country ham - the signature product of Spain that's found in virtually every Spanish home. This ham is similar to Italy's prosciutto and Germany's Black Forest hams, but it has a lower salt and fat content.
Other Campofrio offerings are lomo embuchado - marinated pork loin; sarta - a traditional long, narrow chorizo on a string; Spanish chorizo - a traditional dry-cured sausage with smoked paprika and garlic; salchichon - a sweet, mild sausage without paprika; and the Gran Doblon chorizo laden with chunks of loin.
Visit the company's Web site at www.tienda.com to order foods or just for its educational value. All the food products are described in detail. The site also offers Spanish bath products, ceramics, wines and cookbooks.
Tienda is open for retail sales on Saturdays from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. It's located at 3701 Rochambeau Road, Williamsburg. The telephone number is (757) 566-9603.
Copyright (c) 2003, Landmark Communications, Inc.
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As the saying goes, the world just keeps getting smaller and smaller, and a Williamsburg-based online retailer specializing in gourmet foods from Spain is here to add credence to the adage.
Tienda Inc. provides a selection of more than 500 food products, many of which are not generally available outside of Spain.
The company's newest additions are pork products made by Madrid-based Grupo Campofrio, the largest meat producer in Spain. One of those products is dry Jamon Serrano country ham - the signature product of Spain that's found in virtually every Spanish home. This ham is similar to Italy's prosciutto and Germany's Black Forest hams, but it has a lower salt and fat content.
Other Campofrio offerings are lomo embuchado - marinated pork loin; sarta - a traditional long, narrow chorizo on a string; Spanish chorizo - a traditional dry-cured sausage with smoked paprika and garlic; salchichon - a sweet, mild sausage without paprika; and the Gran Doblon chorizo laden with chunks of loin.
Visit the company's Web site at www.tienda.com to order foods or just for its educational value. All the food products are described in detail. The site also offers Spanish bath products, ceramics, wines and cookbooks.
Tienda is open for retail sales on Saturdays from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. It's located at 3701 Rochambeau Road, Williamsburg. The telephone number is (757) 566-9603.
Copyright (c) 2003, Landmark Communications, Inc.
Express Lane...The hottest chocolate
For after-caroling, for a tree-trimming party or for any winter festivity, what could be cozier than hot chocolate?
Amy Culbertson
Hot chocolate always sounds so tempting, but somehow it never seems to taste as good as we remember from childhood. Unless . . . you make yours using Spain's Valor Chocolate a la Taza.
If you've traveled in Spain, this product may not be new to you, but if you haven't tried it, we guarantee you it will be a revelation. You break up the chocolate bar, melt the bits in hot milk and get the richest-tasting, most intense hot chocolate you've ever sipped. Just the aroma will put you in a cozy Norman Rockwell mood.
The bad news: We haven't been able to find it locally. The good news: You can order it online, including at www.tienda.com ($4.95 for a 10.5-ounce bar, which makes about eight cups)....... You can also order from www.tienda.com by phone at (888) 472-1022.
If you can lay your hands on the Valor chocolate, it needs no gilding (although a little whipped cream wouldn't be amiss, and it's customary in Spain to dip pastries in the hot chocolate). But if you don't have the bucks or the time to have it shipped before your party, use the best domestic or imported chocolate you can find -- Fiesta Marts have several from Mexico and South America -- and gussy it up.
Set up a hot-chocolate bar with whipped cream and various other toppings; possibilities include powdered cinnamon, whole nutmegs for grating, miniature baking chips (try butterscotch or mint), chocolate curls or shavings, crushed or whole candy canes or other hard mints -- even instant espresso powder. Used judiciously, flavored syrups are another possible addition; if you want an adult kick, try a mini-shot of your favorite liqueur. OK, if you must, miniature marshmallows, too.
Compiled by Amy Culbertson
© 2003 Star Telegram and wire service sources. All Rights Reserved. http://www.dfw.com
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Amy Culbertson
Hot chocolate always sounds so tempting, but somehow it never seems to taste as good as we remember from childhood. Unless . . . you make yours using Spain's Valor Chocolate a la Taza.
If you've traveled in Spain, this product may not be new to you, but if you haven't tried it, we guarantee you it will be a revelation. You break up the chocolate bar, melt the bits in hot milk and get the richest-tasting, most intense hot chocolate you've ever sipped. Just the aroma will put you in a cozy Norman Rockwell mood.
The bad news: We haven't been able to find it locally. The good news: You can order it online, including at www.tienda.com ($4.95 for a 10.5-ounce bar, which makes about eight cups)....... You can also order from www.tienda.com by phone at (888) 472-1022.
If you can lay your hands on the Valor chocolate, it needs no gilding (although a little whipped cream wouldn't be amiss, and it's customary in Spain to dip pastries in the hot chocolate). But if you don't have the bucks or the time to have it shipped before your party, use the best domestic or imported chocolate you can find -- Fiesta Marts have several from Mexico and South America -- and gussy it up.
Set up a hot-chocolate bar with whipped cream and various other toppings; possibilities include powdered cinnamon, whole nutmegs for grating, miniature baking chips (try butterscotch or mint), chocolate curls or shavings, crushed or whole candy canes or other hard mints -- even instant espresso powder. Used judiciously, flavored syrups are another possible addition; if you want an adult kick, try a mini-shot of your favorite liqueur. OK, if you must, miniature marshmallows, too.
Compiled by Amy Culbertson
© 2003 Star Telegram and wire service sources. All Rights Reserved. http://www.dfw.com
Tastings Around Town
Celeste Busk
New in Brew
Jennifer English, founder of the Food and Wine Radio Network, has teamed up with www.Tienda.com, an importer and online retailer that specializes in gourmet foods and wines from Spain, to offer a variety of gift baskets featuring Spanish wine and products.
For example, the Holiday Cava Gift Basket, featuring Brut Reserva Cava and priced at $49.99, features whole green colossal Spanish olives that make a savory hors d'oeuvre when tossed in olive oil and served warm from the oven. Also included are the sparkling wine, Segura Viudas Brut Reserva and marcona almonds, an exotic variety from Spain.
For more information, or to order, call (888) 472-1022 or visit www.Tienda.com.
Read more
New in Brew
Jennifer English, founder of the Food and Wine Radio Network, has teamed up with www.Tienda.com, an importer and online retailer that specializes in gourmet foods and wines from Spain, to offer a variety of gift baskets featuring Spanish wine and products.
For example, the Holiday Cava Gift Basket, featuring Brut Reserva Cava and priced at $49.99, features whole green colossal Spanish olives that make a savory hors d'oeuvre when tossed in olive oil and served warm from the oven. Also included are the sparkling wine, Segura Viudas Brut Reserva and marcona almonds, an exotic variety from Spain.
For more information, or to order, call (888) 472-1022 or visit www.Tienda.com.
Epicurean Cyber Pantry
The new online purveyors now allow you to order and serve everything from Serrano ham and white-truffle oil to a dozen fresh oysters and French turbot.
by David Rosengarten
Tienda,Inc. - Spanish Specialties
Until recently, the wonderful products of Spain were qite difficult to find in the United States. Then, in 1006, along came Tienda.
Today Tienda features some 400 food and cookware items. But as you'll see from the tantalizing photo-studded home page, there's more than food to be had. Click and you get a page of links to articles about Spanish cuisine and ingredients that have appeared in various periodicals; click again and you get virtual tours of "our favorite villages in Spain." Another click brings you to a listing of apartments in Madrid available for short term rentals.
RECENTLY TASTED The ham of Spain, arguably the greatest ham country on earth, was unavailable in the United States for many years. That began to change a few years ago, and Tienda has been in the forefront of the push. Redondo Inglesias slices Serrano ham ($12.95 for half a pound of slices from a ham cured 18 months) is one of the nly Spanish brands currently available here. It is fairly mild in flavor for Spanish jamón, but a good starting off point.
If you want more depth, the best choice is the Redondo Inglesias bone-in jamón Serrano 'Reserva' ($219 for a whole ham cured 18 months). Unfortunately, the créme de la créme of Spanish hans, from the breed of black-hoofed pigs called Iberico, has never been legal here. But, anticipating a change in our government's regulatins, Tienda is taking order on its Web site for whole legs of jamón Iberico when they do become avaioable. If you're serious about this delicacy sign up now -- the waitlist is growing fast. Cured Spanish sausage -- the great chorizo, made from pork, paprika, and other flavorings -- is similarly restricted: The only Spanish-made brand allowed into the country at the moment is teh Palacios chorizo, hot ($9.95 for 9.5 oz), also my favorite. This is a fairly full-flavored chorizo,not especially spicy, meant to be cut in thin slices and consumer at room temperature as a tapa. www.tienda.com
Read more
by David Rosengarten
Tienda,Inc. - Spanish Specialties
Until recently, the wonderful products of Spain were qite difficult to find in the United States. Then, in 1006, along came Tienda.
Today Tienda features some 400 food and cookware items. But as you'll see from the tantalizing photo-studded home page, there's more than food to be had. Click and you get a page of links to articles about Spanish cuisine and ingredients that have appeared in various periodicals; click again and you get virtual tours of "our favorite villages in Spain." Another click brings you to a listing of apartments in Madrid available for short term rentals.
RECENTLY TASTED The ham of Spain, arguably the greatest ham country on earth, was unavailable in the United States for many years. That began to change a few years ago, and Tienda has been in the forefront of the push. Redondo Inglesias slices Serrano ham ($12.95 for half a pound of slices from a ham cured 18 months) is one of the nly Spanish brands currently available here. It is fairly mild in flavor for Spanish jamón, but a good starting off point.
If you want more depth, the best choice is the Redondo Inglesias bone-in jamón Serrano 'Reserva' ($219 for a whole ham cured 18 months). Unfortunately, the créme de la créme of Spanish hans, from the breed of black-hoofed pigs called Iberico, has never been legal here. But, anticipating a change in our government's regulatins, Tienda is taking order on its Web site for whole legs of jamón Iberico when they do become avaioable. If you're serious about this delicacy sign up now -- the waitlist is growing fast. Cured Spanish sausage -- the great chorizo, made from pork, paprika, and other flavorings -- is similarly restricted: The only Spanish-made brand allowed into the country at the moment is teh Palacios chorizo, hot ($9.95 for 9.5 oz), also my favorite. This is a fairly full-flavored chorizo,not especially spicy, meant to be cut in thin slices and consumer at room temperature as a tapa. www.tienda.com
Why We Love Canned Tuna
Colman Andrews
A cat can hear a can of cat food being opened from a distance of approximately 500 miles and will show up on the kitchen counter nudging your forearm annoyingly as you scoop the stuff into his bowl even if he was engaged in some sort of feline high jinks in a neighboring state only seconds before.
I'm sort of like that with canned tuna. I hear the sharpened wheel of a can opener sinking into the lid with a faint but unmistakable crunch and a little gasp of inrushing air -- it's a high note, not the deeper thunk that comes forth when a can of soup or beans is opened, so unless somebody's serving up some of that aforementioned food, I'm always pretty sure that it's tuna -- and I'm there in a flash, gazing with intense anticipatory pleasure at the solid, faintly luminous white-beige meat luxuriating in a rich, shiny cloak of olive oil that the opening of the can has revealed. And already imagining that meat, which i my kitchen is usually (though not always) Thunnus alalunga, or albacore, being mashed into tuna salad or broken coarsely into chunks to be stirred into a bowl of white beans or...And then picturing myself wiping up the scraps of fish left in the oil at the bottom of the can with my finger and putting it straight into my mouth.
I'm dating myself here: most tuna is now packed in water, not oil, and a lot of it seems to come in pop-top cans -- if not metal pouches. And of course there are people who think that canned tuna is cat food, disdaining it in favor of beefy slabs of the fresh variety -- ahi or otherwise, raw or "charred rare." But I'm here to maintain that canned tuna -- almost any kind, but especially albacore packed in olive oil (most of which comes from Italy, France, or Spain and costs big bucks) and above all the kind known as ventresca or ventreche, which is the exquisite, fatty belly meat of the tuna -- is one of the great gastronomic pleasures of everyday life.
The genus Thunnus comprises several varieties of fast-swimming, muscular, particularly delicious members of the family Scombridae, found all over the Atlantic and the Pacific and in the Mediterranean. The tunas we know best, besides the aristocratic albacore (the only one that may be labeled "white tuna"), are the bluefin (T. thynnus or T. maccoyii), star of the sushi counter; the yellowfin (T. albacares), which is ahi in Hawaii and i our smarter non-Hawaiian eating establishments; and the skipjack (Katsuwonus pelamis), a Thunnus cousin, which is the mainstay of the American canning industry. (Bonito is another cousin, but unlike skipjack it isn't labeled as tuna; the Spanish, though, call albacore "bonito del norte," which means either the good-looking guy from the north or "That'll be 20 euros, please.")
There was a time not very long ago in America when almost nobody, your odd fisherperson aside, ate fresh tuna. It was rare even in sushi bars and simply didn't exist in supermarkets or on the menu at Arugula's; A Small-Plates-Fusion Bistro fown at the Hyatt. In fact, fresh tuna has always been something of a rare bird. It was a large fish, found in abundance so the ancients had to figure our early how to preserve it in various ways. You might have eaten a bit of it fresh when it was first caught if you lived on the coast; otherwise you got your tuna salted, dried, smoked, pickled, and even "canned" in amphorae, in oil or vinegar.
The pioneer of nonamphoral canning was a Frenchman, Nicolas Appert, who figured out in the late 18th century how to preserve food in airtight bottles. The first American cannery was established in New York in 1812, packing oysters, among other foods, first in glass and then in tin -- and by the early 20th century, the canning of fish had become a burgeoning industry in this country. In 1903, when the annual run of Pacific sardines didn't show up as scheduled in Southern California, canner Albert P. Halfhill had his workers pack tuna instead -- and lnch as we kniw it was born. Today, U.S. canners alone (the big boys are StarKist, BumbleBee, and the metaphorically monikered Chicken of the Sea) pack some 32 billion cans of tuna annually, mostly in two styles -- solid or fancy (large pieces) and chunk (smaller pieces) -- and canned tuna accounts for almost a third of our national seafood consumption.
This is largely, I'd bet, because tuna cans so very nicely. Canned peas are mush; canned peaches are slippery and metallic; canned salmon tastes like the fresh stuff after it's been boiled for about three days. But when you pack tuna in that coated aluminum or steel container, it becomes another creature altogether. It changes its texture, its flavor, its very nature. It is cooked twice, before and after canning, and this apparently has the effect of solidifying its flesh and converting the mildly gamy character of fresh tuna into something that might better be described as earthy, but with a buttery richness and a vivid piscatorial tang. Canned tuna is not a sorry imitation of the fresh stuff; it is a parallel delight. It is to fresh tunas more or less what ham is to pork chops. Or, perhaps more appropriately, it is the salt cod of the modern world, the preserved version of a cimmon fish, becoming somehow less common through the very process of its preservation -- a dependable, easily stored, long-lived form of protein, as protean as it is savory. And Whiskers had better stay the hell away from mine.
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A cat can hear a can of cat food being opened from a distance of approximately 500 miles and will show up on the kitchen counter nudging your forearm annoyingly as you scoop the stuff into his bowl even if he was engaged in some sort of feline high jinks in a neighboring state only seconds before.
I'm sort of like that with canned tuna. I hear the sharpened wheel of a can opener sinking into the lid with a faint but unmistakable crunch and a little gasp of inrushing air -- it's a high note, not the deeper thunk that comes forth when a can of soup or beans is opened, so unless somebody's serving up some of that aforementioned food, I'm always pretty sure that it's tuna -- and I'm there in a flash, gazing with intense anticipatory pleasure at the solid, faintly luminous white-beige meat luxuriating in a rich, shiny cloak of olive oil that the opening of the can has revealed. And already imagining that meat, which i my kitchen is usually (though not always) Thunnus alalunga, or albacore, being mashed into tuna salad or broken coarsely into chunks to be stirred into a bowl of white beans or...And then picturing myself wiping up the scraps of fish left in the oil at the bottom of the can with my finger and putting it straight into my mouth.
I'm dating myself here: most tuna is now packed in water, not oil, and a lot of it seems to come in pop-top cans -- if not metal pouches. And of course there are people who think that canned tuna is cat food, disdaining it in favor of beefy slabs of the fresh variety -- ahi or otherwise, raw or "charred rare." But I'm here to maintain that canned tuna -- almost any kind, but especially albacore packed in olive oil (most of which comes from Italy, France, or Spain and costs big bucks) and above all the kind known as ventresca or ventreche, which is the exquisite, fatty belly meat of the tuna -- is one of the great gastronomic pleasures of everyday life.
The genus Thunnus comprises several varieties of fast-swimming, muscular, particularly delicious members of the family Scombridae, found all over the Atlantic and the Pacific and in the Mediterranean. The tunas we know best, besides the aristocratic albacore (the only one that may be labeled "white tuna"), are the bluefin (T. thynnus or T. maccoyii), star of the sushi counter; the yellowfin (T. albacares), which is ahi in Hawaii and i our smarter non-Hawaiian eating establishments; and the skipjack (Katsuwonus pelamis), a Thunnus cousin, which is the mainstay of the American canning industry. (Bonito is another cousin, but unlike skipjack it isn't labeled as tuna; the Spanish, though, call albacore "bonito del norte," which means either the good-looking guy from the north or "That'll be 20 euros, please.")
There was a time not very long ago in America when almost nobody, your odd fisherperson aside, ate fresh tuna. It was rare even in sushi bars and simply didn't exist in supermarkets or on the menu at Arugula's; A Small-Plates-Fusion Bistro fown at the Hyatt. In fact, fresh tuna has always been something of a rare bird. It was a large fish, found in abundance so the ancients had to figure our early how to preserve it in various ways. You might have eaten a bit of it fresh when it was first caught if you lived on the coast; otherwise you got your tuna salted, dried, smoked, pickled, and even "canned" in amphorae, in oil or vinegar.
The pioneer of nonamphoral canning was a Frenchman, Nicolas Appert, who figured out in the late 18th century how to preserve food in airtight bottles. The first American cannery was established in New York in 1812, packing oysters, among other foods, first in glass and then in tin -- and by the early 20th century, the canning of fish had become a burgeoning industry in this country. In 1903, when the annual run of Pacific sardines didn't show up as scheduled in Southern California, canner Albert P. Halfhill had his workers pack tuna instead -- and lnch as we kniw it was born. Today, U.S. canners alone (the big boys are StarKist, BumbleBee, and the metaphorically monikered Chicken of the Sea) pack some 32 billion cans of tuna annually, mostly in two styles -- solid or fancy (large pieces) and chunk (smaller pieces) -- and canned tuna accounts for almost a third of our national seafood consumption.
This is largely, I'd bet, because tuna cans so very nicely. Canned peas are mush; canned peaches are slippery and metallic; canned salmon tastes like the fresh stuff after it's been boiled for about three days. But when you pack tuna in that coated aluminum or steel container, it becomes another creature altogether. It changes its texture, its flavor, its very nature. It is cooked twice, before and after canning, and this apparently has the effect of solidifying its flesh and converting the mildly gamy character of fresh tuna into something that might better be described as earthy, but with a buttery richness and a vivid piscatorial tang. Canned tuna is not a sorry imitation of the fresh stuff; it is a parallel delight. It is to fresh tunas more or less what ham is to pork chops. Or, perhaps more appropriately, it is the salt cod of the modern world, the preserved version of a cimmon fish, becoming somehow less common through the very process of its preservation -- a dependable, easily stored, long-lived form of protein, as protean as it is savory. And Whiskers had better stay the hell away from mine.
