Xatinos and Russian Steaks

Asturian veal. Pride and glory of our prairies. The most extensively consumed kind of meat around these lands. Just look at’em cutie pies.

They’re not grass fed. They’re grass-eating freaking machines.

Graze graze graze all day long. Unless, of course, they’re still getting their nutrients from their mommy:

Which, just like mommies all over the world, will always see them as babies, and take care of them accordingly (even when they’re probably nearing 1000kg):

This one was kind enough to stop grazing and pose for the camera:

 

And how’s this for an overdose of uber cuteness? Just look at those itsy-bitsy tiny perfect feet!

Xatín. That’s what we call a little calf in Asturian.

So yeah. Enough with that. I’m actually giving you a recipe, not only a bunch of relatively random pictures.

Today’s concoction is what we call, for whatever reason, “Filetes rusos” (which means Russian steaks). They’re easy as pie, except actually waay easier that pie (unless you use a premade pie crust and pie filling); you can whip them up in about 10 minutes and they’ll make a great weeknight dinner. They’re one of those meals that have “kid-friendly” written all over their faces, but I don’t know of any grown-up who doesn’t enjoy them just as much. Oh, and although I’ve listed veal as the meat of choice, they turn out great also with a mix of ground veal and pork. I’ve never tried them with beef but I guess they’d be fine too.

Filetes rusos:

• About 450 g (1 lb) of ground veal or other meat
• 10 Tb finely chopped onion
• 1 Tb minced garlic
• 1 sprig of parsley, chopped very finely
• 1 egg
• Breadcrumbs
• Olive oil
• Salt

Put the meat into a big bowl. Chop the onion, garlic and parsley very finely (I use the food processor) and add them to the meat, along with about 1/2 ts salt, about 2 Tb breadcrumbs and the whole egg. Stir everything together with your hands (à la Jaimie Oliver) or using a fork if you don’t want to dirty your hands. At this point, you could put this mixture in a sealed container and store in the fridge for later use (and it will last for a few days, since it’s already seasoned).

Form patties with the mixture (make a ball and flatten it using the palm of your hand). I think I got about 8 patties with this amount, but the size is totally up to you. Sometimes I even make a big one that takes up the whole frying pan.

Sprinkle some more breadcrumbs on a dish or paper towel and coat each side of the patties in them. Tap off any excess, as you don’t want a thick layer of breadcrumbs. At this point yo could also wrap your patties in film and keep them in the fridge for a few days or in the freezer for quite a long time.

When you’re ready to eat them, heat a little olive oil in a frying pan over medium high heat. You’ll want enough oil so that when it gets hot there’ll be a thin film all over the bottom of the pan.

When the oil is hot, put some patties into the pan. Just fry as many as you’re eating, and keep the rest in the fridge. When the bottom looks golden brown and done, flip and cook on the other side till it looks the same.

Take out to a dish and serve. If you need to fry them in several batches, and a little more oil as needed if the pan gets dry.

And don’t let them get cold as I did! (Although they’re still super tasty and juicy, I’d know after taking like a hundred pictures before finally sitting down to lunch…).

El Desarme

So. This is not at all how I’d envisioned things happening when I wrote my last post. My way back last post. My I-can’t-believe-almost-two-months-are-gone-by-already-since-I-posted-it last post. But you all know and understand that sometimes life just gets in the way. Stuff happens. My original intention was to come back from my lovely week-long trip around Tuscany and fill you in about its magical cities, romantic countryside, delectable food and enticing wine. Which I evidently didn’t do, and have decided that it’d be kind of out of place now that we’re all back to our non-vacational routines and hence I’m not as inspired anymore to recount it. Plus I don’t like wine so I wouldn’t know about its enticing-ness anyway (I know, I know… I’m such a terrible Spaniard).

There’s also the fact that I have something special to share here today which, as the title of the post suggests, it’s called “el Desarme”. El Desarme is a food-related celebration (what celebration isn’t?) which takes place every October 19 in Asturias ever since a little over a century and a half ago. There was this civil war in Spain, the Carlist war, going on at the time. The country was divided between those who wanted Isabel, daughter of the deceased king Fernando VII, to take over the throne after his death, as he had stipulated and arranged for, which would lead the country towards a more liberal political direction (those were the liberals), and then a more conservative faction advocating for the king’s brother, Carlos (hence the name Carlist war) and his more totalitarian approach to governing as the rightful successor (being a man scored you big king points way back when) (and those were the Carlists).

Some of you may have guessed that “el Desarme” translates as “The Disarmament”. Now I’m sure we all agree that laying down your arms and taking conflict to an end is a wonderful concept, but putting the idea into practice, that’s a whole ‘nother story. Armed people are not usually very keen to putting down their guns and making peace when told to do so. You can’t disarm people by just yelling “Hey! Let’s put our guns down now and stop fighting, shall we?”, you gotta work your way around it. You need to lure them and beguile them, make use of your most subtle and refined persuasion techniques. And that’s just what the liberal crowds in Asturias did to the Carlist army that was trying to bully them; they disarmed them by stuffing them silly. The fact that they were at war against each other didn’t mean the Asturians shouldn’t be good hosts and feed up the Carlists, right? No one wants to battle on an empty stomach. But this wasn’t just a few sandwiches to get them going. Word has it that the Carlist troops were served a menu consisting of chickpeas with cod and spinach as the entrée, then callos (a very rich stew made with cows tripes) as the main dish, and some rice pudding for a sweet finishing note. Which is pretty hardcore, even for an army of hungry soldiers. So while they were stuffing their faces with obscene amounts or food (or maybe it was during the siesta that most likely ensued), guns resting behind their backs so they wouldn’t get in the way while eating, the Asturian soldiers took them away without the Carlist troops even taking notice. But hey, can’t really blame them. I’m sure the Carlists were competent soldiers that would’ve stood up to anything in the battlefield, but this meal? You could have taken Charlton Heston’s NRF membership card after this meal and he wouldn’t have batted an eyelash.

So you’ll have to agree with me that yeah, peace and cease-fire are great, but peace by being too full to even realize you’re being ripped off? C’mon, that’s the stuff world peace dreams are made of. So go ahead and celebrate with us, by preparing this delicious dish for your friends and family (or for your enemies, it just might turn things around!) and making a toast to happy bellies and non-fighting armies.

Chickpeas with cod and spinach

• 500 g (17,6 oz or 1 lb plus 1,6 oz, but it really doesn’t have to be exact so you can go ahead and use just 1 lb) dried chickpeas
• 400 g (14,1 oz but again, it won’t make a difference if it’s a little bit less or more) salt cod fillet
• 200-300 g (about 7-10 oz) spinach
• 2 medium yellow onions
• 4 cloves of garlic
• 2 sprigs of parsley
• 1 egg
• some flour (around 6-8 Tb)
• smoked paprika
  
• a few saffron threads (optional)
• olive oil
• salt
  

The first step is to desalt the cod, so cut the fillet into a few stripes (about an inch wide), place them in a big bowl and fill it with cold water. Soak for 18 to 24 hours, changing the water 3 or 4 times.

Place the chickpeas in nother big bowl, add cold water that comes at least an inch above the chickpeas (no need to rinse them first since we’ll be throwing that water away later) and soak overnight (about 10 to 12 hours).

Discard chickpea water and place chickpeas in a big pot.

Chop onion, garlic and parsley finely (I do this in the food processor) and add to the pot. Sprinkle with about 1 Tb of smoked paprika.

Add the saffron if you wish.

Generously drizzle with olive oil (2-3 Tb) and sprinkle with flour (about 3 Tb).

Fill the pot with cold water that goes up to 1/2-1 inch above the chickpeas.

Add a big pinch of salt (about ½ ts. You’ll probably need to add more later but I prefer to be on the safe side just in case the cod is still a bit salty in spite of the soaking).

Cover the pot with a lid and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to a simmer and cook until the chickpeas are tender, which can take up a varying amount of time depending on the chickpeas, heat, pot, etc, but probably a little short of 2 hours.

While the chickpeas are cooking, prepare the cod: cut each stripe into 2 or 3 pieces, beat the egg in a little bowl and have some flour ready in another bowl or on the counter. Dredge the cod pieces in the flour.

Add some olive oil (1-2 Tb) to a frying pan and turn the heat to high. When the oil is hot, take a piece of floured cod, dip it in the beaten egg and place in the pan. Repeat with the rest (you can do this in batches if you need to, adding more oil as needed). Flip the pieces several times so every side gets cooked. When all of the pieces are done, set them aside.

Wash your spinach. If you’re using baby spinach, just chop them up a bit. If you’re using the regular kind, bring a pot of water to a boil and cook them for a minute, then rinse them in cold water and roughly chop them.

When the chickpeas are tender, add the cod and spinach, and let cook for a couple of minutes, then turn the heat off and let it rest, covered, for a few minutes. Taste it and add more salt it needed (and/or more paprika) and serve.

Tortilla de patata, step by step

There’s been an overabundance of eggs around here for the past couple of weeks or so, and something needed be done to take care of such a situation.

Since my dad was going to the Picos de Europa for a long hike and he needed some provisions to take along, making tortilla de patata seemed like a pretty good choice, more so because I had it in mind as one of the first recipes that should be featured here.

Tortilla de patata or tortilla española (potato/Spanish omelette) is one of Spain’s culinary flagships, and a great starting point if you want to get into Spanish gastronomy. First, I don’t think I know anybody who doesn’t like it, no matter how picky of an eater they might be; it is the ultimate crowd-pleaser. Fairly accomodating too, since it works for vegetarians and is also gluten free. It is perfect for any meal or time of the day, and works particularly well to share; there is virtually no kid’s birthday party or potluck dinner in Spain that doesn’t have at least one. Plus, I bet about 95% of you already have everything that’s needed right on hand, as it requires unexpensive, easy to find ingredients and very basic equipment.

Another advantage is that you don’t have to be afraid of messing it up, since there isn’t really a right or wrong way to make it, just a thousand different variations depending on the cook’s personal preference. Everyone has their own particular approach to it – and some feel very strongly about it -. You’ll need to try different versions in order to find your perfect match, so I’m gonna talk about a few points to take into account before getting down to business in hopes that it’ll give you a better insight of how to tweak it to best suit your liking:

• The main ingredients are eggs, potatoes, olive oil and salt, and those are the ones that can’t be skipped (well of course they can be skipped, I’m not trying to restrain your creativity or anything, but you wouldn’t be making tortilla de patata in that case…). You can also season it with a mix of salt, garlic and parsley instead of plain salt. The most common add-on is onion, and relatively common is also green bell pepper. Going from there, you can basically add anything you think you may fancy, such as red peppers, peas, ham, chorizo, and a big etcetera.

• Tortilla de patata comes in all sizes but I recommend that, if it’s your first time making it, you settle for something realtively manageable. You will need to flip the tortilla using a dish or a lid, which isn’t hard for a normal sized one, but might prove a little challenging if dealing with a 10 egg beast. 5 or 6 eggs and a 9 inch pan is a pretty average size and easy enough to handle.

• The omelette should be rather thick. Of course this depends, to a degree, on its size, but I’d say never less than an inch. Thinner omelettes are usually only made if you’re going to stack one on top of another to sandwich some other ingredients (such as ham, tuna, mayonnaise, asparagus…) in between, which is yet another variation. A thicker omelette will be moister, but if you go overboard it might be hard to get it cooked right.

• Doneness is probably the point of biggest disagreement (apart from the inclusion/omission of onion) and everyone has a preference about it. From totally cooked through with dark golden edges to mostly liquid insides and barely sliceable, all options are valid. My personal preference lays more towards the latter side of the spectrum.

• Shape of the potatoes: again this is totally up to you; some like them to be diced into perfect little cubes of about 1 cm, while others prefer them sliced with varying degrees of thickness. One can also either left the potatoes just cut up or smash them a little (or a whole lot) while or after cooking to make them more of a continuous mass rather than discrete little pieces. Not to forget Ferran Adrià‘s “fast” version made with crushed potato chips, which turns out awesome and comes together in a cinch.

• How to enjoy it: (any way you want it, of course) but, if you’re interested in what’s customary here, there it goes: it can be eaten hot, cold or at room temperature, some people like it right out of the skillet and some others argue that it’s better when allowed to “rest” for a few hours (or until the following day). Most people wouldn’t consider it for breakfast since spaniards are more prone to sweet stuff right out of bed, but it is very common to have it with a hunk of bread as a mid-morning snack (or as an any-time-of-the-day snack, always with crusty bread, as a sandwich if you want). It can also be served as one of the courses for lunch (lunch is the main meal in Spain, and usually includes two main courses), and the same goes for dinner. However, tortilla de patata is most often seen on big get togethers and parties, or any occasion in which there are several dishes to share. So bust it out for your next food-involving social event and spread the tortilla love!

And now that we’ve got the tortilla’s back well covered, hoping that most of you are still with me, I finally present you with the actual recipe:

Tortilla de patata:

• about 600 g (1 lb plus 5 oz) potatoes (don’t use new potatoes)
  
• a small onion (or half of a big one)
• 5 eggs (or 6 if, like mine, they’re small)
• olive oil
• salt, garlic, parsley
• 9-inch pan (I use non-stick)
• a flat dish or lid that fits over the pan, for flipping
  

Peel the potatoes, cut them in half legth-wise (or into quarters, if they’re big), and then finely slice them cross-wise. Chop up the onion.

Pour a thick coating of oil into the pan (you’ll need enough for the potatoes to fry.) Heat it up over high heat.

Meanwhile, place the eggs in a big bowl and beat thoroughly. Set aside.

When the oil is hot, gradually add the potatoes to the pan. Don’t throw them in all at once.

Stir them around as they are frying so as to get all of them evenly cooked. Mash them a little as you go.

When they are almost cooked, and most of them are somewhat crumbled, throw in the onion.

Add some salt, garlic and parsley (not too much, you can add more later on) and continue to stir.

When the onion is translucent and all of the potatoes broken down, take them out with a slotted spoon, draining the excess oil by squeezing with a spatula or another utensil, and dump them into the beaten eggs.

Stir around to evenly distribute the potatoes, taste and adjust the seasoning. Drain the oil from the pan, leaving just a thin film on its bottom, and turn the heat to medium.

When the pan is hot (but not too much), pour the mixture into it, arranging it to get a mostly even surface.

Let it cook for a bit, but keeping a close eye on it. When the bottom is cooked (if you shake the pan the mixture only wiggles slightly, but doesn’t move freely) it’s time to flip it.

Get your dish or lid, and put it over the pan. Place one hand on the dish, firmly pressing down against the pan while holding its handle with your other hand. Firmly is the key word.

Take a moment to trick yourself into believing that you’ve done this a hundred times before and, without thinking about it and keeping the pressure on the dish all through the movement, flip it!

Lift the pan. The omelette should be on the dish and have a flat top. If it gets stuck to the pan, don’t fret – it can happen. I promise it will be edible nonetheless – and make it come down using a spatula.

Return the pan to the heat. If it looks too dry you can add a little bit of oil, but it shouldn’t be necessary. Slide the omelette back into the pan and run a spatula all around the edges, kind of tucking them in so as to create its characteristic rounded shape.

As soon as the bottom is cooked (try to lift it a bit with a spatula to check) the omelette is ready. Invert it onto a plate again and either serve straight-away or let it rest a bit and come down to room temperature. It is a matter of personal preference.

And if you still feel unconfident about making it, check out this awesome video made by Spanish food blogger El cocinero fiel for a great hands-on demonstration.