Happy as a Clam

So as I was inspired by the massive influx of Italians that has recently taken place in Murcia for seemingly no reason, I decided that the best option would be take one of my Italian favorites, Linguine with White Clam Sauce (recently improved by Mario Batalli's book Fire and his endless diatribes about the never ending virtues of pasta water). However, since I'm in Murcia of course there were two essential modifications to the normal recipe to give the dish a little bit of desert flair. So on my trip to the market, I decided of course that I would amp up the usual dash of lemon juice to what could be considered epic proportions as well as add some Spanish spicy paprika (Pimentón Picante) rather then red pepper flakes. So I assembled all of the standard ingredients: linguine (2 boxes), white wine (I used Albariño from Galicia), red pepper, garlic, and the aforementioned lemons and paprika. As for the clams, I saw two options. One, I could go for pre-shucked canned clams. For those from the U.S. the prospect of canned seafood may seem a bit disturbing, but Spain is well known for having a wide variety of fantastic canned seafood. Option two, was to purchase these tiny little baby clams which were perched on the seafood shelf. I had never seen clams so small or with shells of that color (a brownish black), so it would certainly be a risk. Being as I am always obsessed with fresh ingredients I took the risk and bought a kilo of the yet unidentified "Japanese Clams" (Almejas japonesas). Upon arriving home I went through the normal steps, in addition to boiling an extra box of pasta simply to have some nice starchy water (thanks Mario), and put it all together. First, it was by far one of the best pasta dishes I've ever made. The only thing that can even rival it is a basil and tomato mixture fresh from the garden in Cape May. Second, the baby clams were unbelievable. Much more tender and with a much deeper and more complex flavor than littlenecks. I still have been unable to locate the origin or species of these strange baby clams, but if I do I will stash them in my suitcase and fly them home to the states through the volcano cloud, because I'd love to create my Italo-Murcian creation as often as possible.

(Photo of baby clams and recipe to follow)

It Has a Face!!!

I´ve never hesitated to try a dish at least once, whether or not that's a positive characteristic is something that I often ask myself. During my travels around the world I´ve eaten some extremely strange things, most notably in Australia and Trinidad and Tobago, and each experience, although incredibly disgusting, gave me new insight into how even the most strange and unexpected things can be used to make quite elaborate dishes. However, this week while out with a friend at one of my favorite haunts here in Murcia to hang around with the locals and relax over some tapas and cold beer, I was introduced to one of the more outwardly disturbing dishes that I´ve had in quite some time: Chopitos a la Andaluza. It´s not so much that the texture, the flavor, or the simple preparation of the dish makes my stomach turn; in fact, they have an absolutely fantastic flavor. However, looking down at my plate to see some thirty odd fried baby squid; tentacles, eyes, guts, and cuttle bones all intact, just freaked me out a little bit. It was something about their little beady black eyes that got to me. I remember quite some time ago in Virginia with my family, my mom had a similar experience involving a roasted duckling. It was cooked perfectly and smelled great; but there was just something about looking down at a tiny little duck carcass (her word choice, not mine) that didn´t sit well with her. So as I was at the restaurant exchanging strange glances across the table at my dining partner, wandering off into some form of deja vu, I had a complete "when in Rome" moment. I reluctantly picked up my lemon wedge (yes this was still in Murcia of course) covered my plate in lemon juice, dismissed all of my preconceived notions how squid should be prepared, and dug in. I picked up the first tiny little squid, couldn't resist my childish need to make swimming motions with it through the air, and popped it in my mouth. Despite the oddness of the whole experience my first observation was how absolutely fantastic they were. Perhaps it is the fact that they're whole which gives them such full flavor, but they were a world apart from some of the leathery fried calamari that I've tried in the past. They were so tender and juicy and imparted a flavor that was completely distinct from any other type of seafood that I've tried. Maybe it's the ink, the innards, or perhaps something as simple as the breading; but the depth of flavor that eminated from such a tiny little bite was astounding. I was just beginning to relax and enjoy myself as my teeth hit something boney and hard in the center. This was the cuttle bone of course, and I was instantly zapped back to the reality that I was indeed eating whole baby squid. I quickly blew through one whole plate and ordered another. My dining partner tried one, and she instantly refused to have anything to do with them, but I was in love. This just one more reason to always try something first, and ask what it is later. You quickly learn that even the strangest and most unappealing things, can change your whole outlook on what makes good food.

Recipe for Chopitos a la Andaluza

1.25 lbs. Chopitos (whole baby squid)
1 cup Olive Oil
1 Lemon
6 Tablespoons Flour (for frying if possible)
Salt to taste

1. Thoroughly wash the Chopitos leaving them whole. Lightly salt them and place them in a pasta strainer. Coat them well in flour (I might even recommend a bit of Old Bay or Spanish Paprika if desired). Shake off the excess flour.

2. Heat the Olive Oil to a high temperature in a deep pan. Fry the Chopitos in small batches until they are a golden brown color. Remove them from the pan and remove the excess oil using paper towels. Serve immediately with a large lemon wedge. Enjoy!

When life gives you lemons...put them on everything!

Once again, as with my previous post a month ago (I apologize for the slacking), I don't exactly know where to begin with this topic.  Lemons...  Well to begin, if you leave the city of Murcia and travel through the Huerta (the massive area of farmland that surrounds the city), you will clearly notice one thing, a incredibly vast fields of lemons as far as the eye can see.  Rather than massive orchards as I had initially expected to see, the lemon orchards are actually quite small, perhaps 2 acres each on average, yet there are hundreds upon hundreds of orchards tightly packed with lemon trees with little yellow fruit popping out from among the leaves.  Thus, as would be expected in a place so blessed with lemons, Murcian cuisine incorporates the lemon into nearly every dish in some way or another, from tea with lemon, soup with lemon, fish with lemon, meat with lemon, potato chips with lemon, etc...More on these things later.  Although one would be hard pressed to be driving down the M-30 and see the world's largest lemon in some sort of Murcian homage to Route 66, it is clear that this little yellow fruit is essential to the cuisine, economy, and general landscape of the Region.  This could not be more clearly illustrated than with the story of a friend who decided to steal a few lemons from an orchard for his kitchen, and ended up fleeing from a farmer's gunfire...Murcia takes its lemons very very seriously.

Now as for some of the more practical uses of the lemon in Murcian cuisine.  First, I must say that until I arrived in Murcia, I had never seen or heard of someone eating a lemon as if it were an orange, that is peeled and eaten...alone.  However sour and unpleasant this may be, it is not the norm and Murcians have developed many much more delicious and practical uses for the lemon.  A personal favorite is its use in the dish "Caldo con pelotas" which consists of a giant meatball flavored with hints of nutmeg, paprika, and parsley served chicken based broth and a lemon slice on the side.  However, as served in any restaurant, this dish is utterly incomplete.  The most essential touch is a generous garnish of fresh lemon juice to give a tangy bite to the smooth sweetness of the meat and broth.  Without the lemon, the dish would simply be a meatball in broth, but with a generous portion of fresh lemon juice, it is absolutely fantastic.  In order to be brief, I will mention one more lemon-based Murcian twist on a snack food favorite known all over the world.  The potato chip.  Chips come in many different flavors around the world, yet as served in Murcia there is only one flavor that is acceptable.  Chips and olives are found in almost every bar in the city as the perfect compliment to an ice cold Estrella Levante lager.  In Murcia, they are always served covered in fresh squeezed lemon juice with a dash of spicy paprika and black pepper and garnished with a generous portion of vinegar marinated Spanish olives. Try it...it beats barbeque and sour cream and onion by miles.  I could go on and on about hundreds of uses for lemons in nearly every dish I've had here, but I'll leave it at that.  So, next time you sit down to enjoy your next meal, splash it with some fresh lemon juice, you won't be disappointed.

¡ACHO!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k8npj2Fay9g

"It's been a year and you haven't brought be any characteristics of typical people from Murcia?"

"No they're very normal people."

"Oh, please. Think about it a while."

(Exhales)

"No, I can't think of anything. ¡Acho!"

Acho! Welcome to Murcia.

To begin, which due to a combination of my long-term and quite serious relationship with procrastination, is now February 1st; approximately 5 months after I originally arrived in Murcia and decided that I ought to start a blog; I should probably explain exactly where the in the world Murcia is, what its like, and what I've observed thus far, for the 99% of people who know nothing about any of these things. I will try to be brief in this first post, since a long and protracted history of Murcia is not in the interest of the reader or my own sanity; but here it goes...

Acho! At this point, after reading it three times in the first 500 words of the blog, you are probably curious as to what this strange exclamation means. The short answer is that I have no idea. Although after living in Murcia for some time, and listening to the jumbled and confusing dialect of Spanish that is spoken here, I am now willing to venture a guess. First, it is purely Murcian. Nowhere else in Spain will you have the pleasure of strolling down the street to a constant deluge of Acho! in nearly every conversation. Second, as to its meaning, It cannot by any means be translated; but it is some combination of damn, really?, cool, hardcore!, awesome, and seriously?. For example ¡Acho tío! (Cool man! Damn man! or Awesome dude!). Third, it is used with absolute impunity by Murcians of all shapes, sizes, ages, genders, races, classes...therefore lesson one for fitting in while in Murcia: Learn the contextual useage of ¡Acho!, use it early and often at least once every three sentences and you will be loved.

After overcoming the ever-present communication barriers, primarily concerning Acho and the ability to understand and entire sentence of Spanish that sounds like one word (the Murcian dialect sounds something like normal Spanish while choking on a piece of bread), one can begin to explore the city, its culture, its gastronomy etc. Murcia is a little region wedged between Valencia and Andalucía in the southeast of Spain. Why it was never quite absorbed into either Valencia or Andalucía is beyond me, but its something that the locals are quite proud of, and it has a distinctive local flavor. The city itself its a moderately sized provincial city, which as I am quite familiar with as a native of New Jersey, is a shining example of urban sprawl. It emanates from the historical center, and spreads out seemingly chaotically in all directions for miles. It then immediately stops and is surrounded by a eerily beautiful craggy desert landscape full of lemon and orange orchards that reminds me of the photos of of Neil Armstrong on the moon...but with lemons! The pace of life here is something between that of a snail or turtle, and it is a perfect escape from the stress and constant motion of most other cities which I've visited. To get something simple done (like get some passport photos), it's always a two-day process. Lunch is 2 hours long, and not a minute less, and is always followed by a 45 minute nap. In sum, it takes some adaptation for an American from the Northeast, but its wonderful to live in such a relaxing atmosphere.

So that's my brief introduction to the general points of Murcia....look forward for more observations to come.