The things he taught me

Passport & Plate - Paella

Spain | Tuesday, March 3, 2015 | 4 photos

Ingredients
12 mussels, cleaned and steamed (throw away any that do not open)
500 g prawns, peeled except for the tail
8 tbsp olive oil
2 garlic cloves cut in slivers
1 bay leaf
1 kg chicken thighs cut in chunks
150 g red pepper cut in strips
450 g chopped tomatoes
100 g green beans, cut in 1/4s
1.5 l chicken or seafood stock
500 g medium grain rice
1 tsp saffron
10 peppercorns
1/2 tsp paprika
2 tsp salt
3 tbsp white wine

 

How to prepare this recipe
Spanish rice, or paella, gets it’s flavour by cooking everything separately, then slowly adding the ingredients together in a shallow pan, or paellera, when the time is right. This ensures nothing is overcooked, especially the rice. Stock is made by boiling the discarded heads and shells of the shrimp, along with the soupy liquid that is left from steaming mussels (although store-bought stock can be used as well). All the peppers, onions and garlic are fried to a golden brown and that sweet flavoured oil is then used to saute the meat and seafood. Once the rice has cooked everything is gingerly laid on top, in the most eye-pleasing pattern.

Start by heating the oil in a paella pan or large flat-bottomed frying pan. Once hot fry the garlic, bay leaf until lightly browned and reserve. Next fry the strips of pepper until browned and set aside. In the same oil slowly brown the chicken (salt and pepper to taste) until almost fully cooked, put aside. Saute the prawns. (salt and pepper to taste) Next fry the tomatoes till they are mostly liquid and add the green beans. Add the stock to the green beans and tomatoes and bring to a boil. Stir in the rice and the chicken pieces. In a mortar and pestle crush the saffron, paprika, peppercorns, fried bay leaf, garlic and salt. Mix into the wine and add to the pan. Cook briskly for 10 minutes, then reduce the heat. Garnish the rice with the cooked mussels, prawns and peppers. Cook for a further 8-10 minutes then allow to stand for 5 minutes before serving.

 

The story behind this recipe
He probably never intended to teach me to speak Spanish or how to make the perfect Spanish rice, but he did and I will forever be grateful. I had taken a Spanish class in high school and he had done some business in Miami, but any confidence we had in our second language had soon faded after ten grueling minutes. I was reduced to a babbling idiot, pointing around the room like an infant in an attempt to make polite conversation.

I had fallen in love with his son, and what are you to do when you suddenly have a doe-eyed blonde standing there every time you turn around. We were going to be spending some time together and serendipitously he had the perfect olive branch to offer. He took me down through the garden, past the garage to his office / kitchen. Most houses only have one kitchen, but when there are two great cooks in the house with two very different approaches two kitchens are almost enough. I felt more comfortable in my soon-to-be father in law’s kitchen, with its large hand-hewn windows, rustic teak countertops and of course the freely distributed wine from the barrels hiding in the shadows.

The months I spent in southern Spain I immersed myself in the food, culture and language. I didn't have much choice, as there weren't a lot of English speakers. Almost everyone had patience for me, market sellers, my fiance’s friends, but none more than Jose. In his little kitchen we marinated olives fresh from the trees, we fried a lot of fish, we devoured mushrooms we had picked ourselves from the nearby forests. My favourite days were the days we made paella for lunch and it was an all morning affair, followed by a well-deserved siesta. Travel has afforded me souvenirs I take with me and unpack wherever I go. I have since made that same paella in Sweden, France and over burning embers on the hottest September day in a gold-plated paellera in Edmonton, Canada. Although that is a story for another time.