Flavours and Stories in: The Fantastic Culinary Adventure

Passport & Plate - Ibizan Salsa de Nadal

Spain | Tuesday, March 3, 2015 | 5 photos

Ingredients
Every family in Ibiza has their own variations on the recipe. Here is my family’s:

Stock (makes ~3 L):
- 1 kg free range chicken, cut into large pieces (I used legs and drumsticks, but other parts could be used as well)
- 500 g lamb or mutton, cut into large pieces
- 125 g pork ribs
- 5 L water
- 2 cinnamon sticks
- 0.75 g saffron
- 1/8 tsp ground all spice
- ¾ tsp salt

Salsa (makes ~2 L):
- 2.5 L stock
- 250 g ground roasted skinless almonds (like a wet paste)
- 2 eggs
- 1 ¼ cup + 2 Tb granulated sugar
- 2 cloves
- ¾ tsp ground cinnamon
- 1/8 tsp ground black pepper
- 1/8 tsp ground all spice
- 250 mL water

Superstitions:
- There is no rule as to what direction the stirring should go (counter or clockwise) but once it starts, the direction should be kept the same throughout the whole cooking.
- No menstruating woman is allowed anywhere near the salsa during any stage of its making, or it will turn bad.
- There may be more, but those were the ones my grandmother defended most fiercely.

 

How to prepare this recipe
1. Make the stock. Put 5 L of water into a large stock pot and turn on the heat. Add the meat when the water is very warm, just before it boils. Stir the meat from time to time, to help them release the juices that generate foam. Ladle the foam out of the pot as it appears, and discard it. When the production of foam slows down, and its colour is lighter, add the spices and salt. When the meat is cooked (~30-45 minutes), sieve the stock into another pot, and let it cool down. Traditionally, the cooked meat is kept and used to make the Christmas lunch, “Sofrit Pagès”, the next day. It can be used to make other dishes like stews, or minced for stuffings or casseroles (I made moussaka). The stock is ready to be used in step 4 as soon as it is comfortable to insert a hand into it: it must be lukewarm.

2. Grind the roasted almonds in a food processor, until they become a thick wet paste.

3. In a large bowl, mix ground almonds and eggs with your hands, as if you were kneading them. Continue to “knead” until it becomes less sticky, and you can hold the whole mixture together in one uniform mass, lifting it over a clean bowl.

4. Slowly pour some stock on the almond/egg mixture, one ladleful at a time, and continue to mix with your hands (some help at this point makes it a lot easier). Repeat until there is no stock left.

5. Sieve as finely as possible the contents of the bowl into a large pot. Discard the solid pellet.

6. Bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Keep it boiling steadily, stirring, for 30 minutes. Add the sugar, and continue boiling and stirring for 30 more minutes.

7. Near the end, in a separate saucepan bring 250 mL of water to a boil and add the cloves, ground cinnamon, all spice and black pepper. Stir until there are no lumps, and add this mixture to the salsa.

8. Serve hot with a slice of plain spongy cake. Enjoy, a spoonful at a time, just as you would savour a very thick hot chocolate, and let the rich flavours comfort you.

 

The story behind this recipe
It’s December 24th, I’m decorating the Christmas tree with my brother and I hear my grandmother Güela’s voice bellowing orders from the kitchen. The house is perfumed with cinnamon and saffron scents, and the air grows thick with steam and heat as I approach the kitchen where the traditional Ibizan Christmas dessert is being made. It smells like Christmas. It also sounds like Christmas: anticipation, merry chatter, and a sense of urgency for the whole process to run smoothly.
Making the Salsa de Nadal was Güela’s most important and treasured event of the whole year. She started preparing and gathering the best ingredients months in advance. She roasted the almonds herself, pre-ordered the meat to her most trusted butcher and went all the way to the farm to get the freshest eggs. Any unexpected challenge threatening the quality of her Salsa unleashed general panic. She took care of every detail, and expertly led each step of the cooking. Hence the stream of orders.
As I join the kitchen party, Güela entrusts me with a task: it is my turn to continue stirring the Salsa. We share stories and laugh around the fire ring. We are making 30 L, which requires a total boiling time of two hours, stirring constantly. I always feel like Panoramix (the druid from Asterix) preparing a huge cauldron of magic potion.
My favourite part of Christmas Eve is dinner, because we celebrate the successful completion of the Salsa, and we get to eat the first few cups.
When I made Salsa de Nadal in Victoria my father thought it was hilarious, but he was just as excited as I was to share that bit of our culture. As soon as I added the spices to the stock, it smelled like Christmas. I was delighted to get the same flavour, despite the ingredients being local. All of my friends who tried it loved it. Rather than revealing the ingredients before the first spoonful, I made them guess. It was challenging and fun. I don’t know if Güela would have laughed, but she certainly would have been proud.