The End Of The World

 

       Retrospective hilarity never seems far once the perplexities clear. This was a recent conversation I had with a large, hairy Spanish man about his beautiful black German Shepard:

Adria: Your dog is very pretty.

Spanish man: Tuna fish.

Adria (pausing but smiling): Ah, very good.

Spanish man: My dog is pretty because of the mountains and water.

Adria (still smiling): Okay...mountains and water. Very good. Bye!

      Upon departure and Amy's clarification, the man was actually giving me a Spanish grammatical lesson; masculine words ending with "o" like pero  (dog) use masculine adjectives ending in "o" like bonito which, confusingly, is the word for both handsome and tuna fish. Feminine words ending in "a" like montaña (mountain) and agua (water) are described by feminine adjectives like bonita. Needless to say, I never saw the man again which was good -- he looked like a horrifying snorer and his masculinely pretty dog looked slightly unstable.

      As if reaching Santiago de Compestela by foot wasn't enough, we have continued another 87km to Finisterre (known as the end of the world), on the western coast of Galacia. It's a gorgeous and quiet trail but the towns rest far from each other; yesterday we walked twenty two miles and staggered at 8pm into the tiny village of Olveiroa. By this point, I was beginning to make myself feel crazed; I had exhausted my song repertoire and had  been singing Chelsea Hotel for 45 minutes because the waltzing lilt made my rioting joints calm down. The epic day wrapped up serendipitously with a free private room in a restored stone stable and a two-shelf market that carried all that was needed for a very restorative meal.

Kitchari

inspired by Alice Toklas (thanks, KC)

      Curry blends generally contain cinnamon, which along with the turmeric, possess anti-inflammatory properties. While an ever-advocate for brown rice, the mild-tasting white rice carries the complexities of the curry and butter very well. If using a different rice, adjust liquid ratios and cook time with your own discretion.

Ingredients

4 T unsalted butter (yes, tablespoons)

1 1/2 t sea salt

1 T mild curry powder

6 cloves garlic, diced

2 c white rice, rinsed

3 1/2 c water

1 1/2c green peas (fresh, if possible)

2 tins (1 cup) oil packed tuna, trout or herring -- sprinkled with salt if necessary)

black pepper

Process

      Over a medium flame, melt the butter in a heavy bottomed pot, deep enough to cook the rice. Once melted, add the salt and curry powder, stirring constantly for one minute. Add the garlic and stir for a minute more. Finally, add the rinsed rice and stir to coat the grain in the butter for an additional two minutes.

      Add the water, raise the heat to bring to a boil and taste the broth for salt content -- carefully adding more if the flavor falls flat. Once simmering, reduce the flame to low and cover tightly. Let cook, undisturbed, for twenty minutes.

      After twenty minutes, peek into the pot. The rice should be done (little air holes will appear atop the rice) -- test to see if tender, if at all unsure.

      Remove from heat and gently fold in the green peas. Traditionally, the fish is mixed in with the rice but I prefer it on the side. Grind fresh pepper on top and serve hot (a side salad of lettuce and slivered onions with vinaigrette makes for a nice temperature and texture contrast).

Yields: 4 servings

Prep time: 10 minutes

Cook time 35 minutes (20 minutes unattended)

Photography by Amy Pennington/Styling and Writing by Adria

Absolutely Warranted

      What began as a hint in the late morning turned into waves by Spain's siesta and was then full blown shakes and shivers by early evening. I haven't been so sick since I was a little girl, which probably explains why I kept hugging myself and whispering "Mommy, Mommy..." over and over again (to maintain some cool integrity: I was also swearing).

      Illness can so often reveal the goodness in others: Amy was a sweet heroine with her care and the  ladies of Vega de Valcarce in Galacia were kind with their lemon water, mint tea and white rice. This stomach flu served as encouragement to reserve the woe-is-absolutely-everything-about-me mentality until warranted. It has also been a most excellent (seasonally sound) recipe reminder from long ago as I am, spoonful of Activia by spoonful, getting back to where I began.

      (I should note, happily and with awe, that we have walked 764km and are three days away from Santiago. I've only cried four times and haven't had to crawl once.)

Rhubarb and Champagne Yogurt

      This is such a delightful manner by which to utilize the bounty of your rhubarb patches or early market stands and can be used as a sauce for a fancy ice cream sundae or thickened for a pie filling. If lactose-troubled or disinterested in yogurt, enjoy the sauce on its own (just brush your teeth after). 

Ingredients

4 c fresh rhubarb, trimmed and chopped into 2 inch pieces

1 c dry champagne

1 c cane sugar (or more, depending on your preference) *

Strained (Greek) yogurt 

Process

      Over a medium flame in a saucepan, heat the champagne and sugar to a simmer. Let simmer for three minutes to rid the champagne of its alcohol and reduce the heat to medium-low. Add the rhubarb. Simmer until quite softened but not stewed, about 5 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool completely.

      Gently fold 1/2 c rhubarb mixture into 1 c very cold strained yogurt (place in the freezer thirty minutes before serving, if you have the foresight and desire). Sprinkle more sugar on top if too tart.

Refrigerate the rhubarb sauce in a lidded jar until consumed (which won't take long).

* Maple or brown rice syrup do not make appropriate substitutions as they will interfere with the sauce's already thin consistency and straightforward taste.

Yields: 3 c rhubarb sauce

Prep time: 10 minutes

Cook time: 10 minutes

Photography by Amy Pennington

Con Manos

 

      "I walked the Camino de Santiago and all I got were these amazing legs" is the tee-shirt that Amy and I have been laughing about getting made when we get home. We should add: "(And suntans, an aversion to anyone who looks like a snorer, and potential hip problems.)" The 25km days and difficulty sleeping caught up to us and we have spent the past two days gloriously puttering around Leon -- window shopping, relishing not wearing our packs and shoes, and eating exclusively with our hands.

      We have discovered that Leon is an old fashioned city where a small pour of wine (vino tinto or blanco) is placed alongside a house tapa, generally on a piece of bread or skewered through a toothpick. Bar Jamón Jamón (Bar Ham Ham) served exquisitely dry-cured Jamón Ibérico (ham from the mountains) which is prized by Spain the way Prosciutto di Parma is by Italy. La Taberna, a few cobblestone streets away, gave us saffron-braised chicken and then poached-in-cream oyster mushrooms. We bought local almendras (almonds) and aceitunas con oregano (olives with oregano) from a lady in a white lace apron in a specialty shop that advertised her goods with mounds upon mounds of paprika in her front window.

       We are rested and fattened and moving onward, inspired by the food, mode of eating, and smiles that seem like permanent fixtures on the faces of our, albeit bruised, fellow pilgrims.

Lettuce Wraps with Olive Oil Packed Tuna

      The canned tuna in Spain that's available in nearly any village is high- quality and packed with the protein that our bodies are requiring. The olive oil rounds out tuna's  otherwise lean taste and helps to prolong the energy it provides. The ingredient list is merely a basic suggestion based on what's readily available to us. Mayonnaise or aioli could be added but will add a heavier feel to the already-rich tuna.

Ingredients

8 large lettuce leaves, washed and carefully peeled from the core

1/4 onion, thinly sliced

1/2 cucumber, halved and thinly sliced -- peeled, if waxed

1/2 c chopped pickles (I used precious pickled beets)

1 can oil packed tuna (Ortiz is a good brand available in the States)

8 thin slices of sharp sheep cheese

toasted sunflower seeds

sea salt and black pepper 

Process

       Mix and match the ingredients. The combinations are endless and, depending on how hungry you are, beyond delicious.

Yields: a light lunch for two

Prep time: 10 minutes

Photography by Amy Pennington/Styling by Me

Moving On

      There is a very good chance that I may begin to resemble a lentil before long; I can hardly resist the glass jars available in every market for half a euro. Lentejas get on with the Rioja crianzas we just savored throughout the past week (we are now in the vast Castilla y Leon region where the night sky sprawls in such a manner that my breath is literally seized -- if only from craning my neck to such an extent each morning). While the days are certainly getting warmer and my lips pinker (despite all the SPF), nights are still cool and well suited for lentil's peppery bite.

      I've paired them with everything from dried mushrooms with rosemary to nettles with Tempranillo to garlic with anchovies. They never tire me. Today's recipe will appeal to the meat eaters, Spanish folk, and definitely not to Amy, who has informed me she's ready to move onto chic peas.

Lentils with Fried Chorizo and Wild Thyme

      Fresh thyme from your gardens or markets is just fine -- I've had the luxury of coming across it growing on craggy hillsides now and again on my travels, much to my delight. If you have nettles or spinach around, toss them in towards the end to give the hearty dish some less-serious color.

Ingredients

1 T olive oil

1 1/2 c chorizo (or txistorra, if available) - casing removed, roughly chopped

1 onion, diced

1/2 t salt

6 cloves garlic, diced

2 c cooked, salted lentil

1 c water

2 c washed nettles (ortega) or spinach (optional)

3 T olive oil

3 T red wine vinegar

1 T fresh thyme, chopped

sea salt, to taste (this will depend on the salt content on your lentils)

Process

      Over a medium-high flame, heat 1T olive oil in a skillet. When the oil is hot, add the chorizo, stirring occasionally to let crisp and brown -- about two minutes. Remove from heat. Saving the oil, spoon out the chorizo onto a separate plate and place the the skillet (with fat) back on the heat source.

      Add the onions to the skillet with 1/2t salt. Stir occasionally for ten minutes or until the onions have softened and begin to turn a bit brown at the edges. Reduce heat if this is happening too fast. Add the garlic and let sauté for one minute longer.

      Add the lentils, water and crisped chorizo. Bring the lentils to a simmer and reduce heat to maintain it for 15 minutes. Add the greens, if using, stirring gently to combine. While still simmering, add 3T olive oil to bind the dish.

      Remove from heat before stirring in the vinegar and thyme. As with all legumes, they absorb flavors dramatically and may require some adjustments, especially with the vinegar and salt.

      Serve with some freshly cracked black pepper, sharp sheep cheese and crusty bread.

Yields: 3 hearty servings

Prep time: 15 minutes

Cook time: 25 minutes

Photography by Amy Pennington/Styling by Me