The Palacios Chorizo Challenges - First Challenge

So, to the Palacios Chorizo Challenges.

You may not be as familiar with Palacios Chorizo as you are with Louis Vuitton. The simple explanation is that Palacios is a large industrial producer of various embutidos (sausages) and prepared foods. One of the largest in Spain, if not the largest. Chorizo, in turn, is a spicy Spanish sausage flavoured with paprika, from which it gets its distinctive reddish hue.

As it happens, I currently have more than one girl's fair share of Palacios chorizo sausage in my fridge. A year's supply? Maybe slightly more. Who's to say? It occupies an entire shelf and comprises well over a dozen sausage links. Whether that makes a year's supply all depends on how much you like sausage, I suppose.

In any event, there's a perfectly simple explanation. And, no, it does not involve a bottle of tequila and a 24 hour grocery store...although, in other circumstances, it might have.

About a month ago, I went on a road trip with Mike Tkachuk, the CEO of the Canadian Serrano Imports, his good natured sales manager Art and Derek Bendig, the chef de cuisine of Toronto's Pangaea restaurant. The product of this trip was the Hog Heaven article that I've reproduced under the More Ham title below. As you can imagine, we spent much time touring the farm and production facility of the family owned Embutidos Fermin, the exporter of jamon iberico to Canada. We also stopped at the much larger Palacios, the exporter of chorizo to Canada.

At the end of our Palacios tour, we were kindly offered a box of Palacios samples. Due to some language barriers and our failure to understand what the size of a box of Palacio samples might actually be, upon leaving the factory, we were presented with four enormous boxes (one for each of us), each about the size of two cases of wine, neatly stacked at the back of our van. Reluctant to offend and even more reluctant to have our diminutive hostess carry three of the giant boxes back with her, we smiled politely and thanked Palacios for the kind gift. The boxes barely fit into the back of the van.

The kicker is that all this food was of course destined for my place because all three of my companions were flying out in a day or two and there was no question of them being able to take anything back. And so I found myself with a fridge full of sausage.

The logical resolution of this state of events was to set myself a challenge: I challenged myself to eat all of that chorizo this year--if I do, I may well buy myself a Louis Vuitton bag.

Just to make things a bit more interesting for you, I'm going to create new Palacios chorizo recipes as I go. The first one is a simple but delicious paella:

1 medium tomato, chopped
1 small onion, chopped
3-4 cloves of garlic, slivered
2 small Palacios chorizo sausage links, sliced (about 1 cup)
3-4 tbsp olive oil
2 cups rice
4 cups chicken stock
pinch of saffron
1 cup chickpeas
1 bunch asparagus, chopped into 1 inch pieces
salt and pepper to taste

Sautee the garlic and onion in the oil until soft. Add the chorizo and brown on all sides. Mix in the rice, coat thoroughly with the oil. Add the chicken stock all at once and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer, add the saffron and distribute the rice evenly in the plan. After 10 minutes, mix in the chickpeas and adjust the seasoning. Spread the asparagus spears on top. When all the liquid is absorbed and the rice is al dente, turn off the heat and let rest for 5 minutes or so. Enjoy with a fine glass of rioja and Louis Vuitton catalogue by your side.

Artichokes

Barcelona really feels like spring lately. Even though most of the winter here is warmer than a Canadian May, there is a marked difference between the seasons. The first signs of change are in the light and the air and the sound of the birds. And the artichokes.

Artichokes originated in the Mediterranean, of course, and were brought by Spanish settlers to America, where they've firmly taken hold. Why, even Marilyn Monroe was once crowned Artichoke Queen by Castroville, California. Perhaps not her greatest claim to fame.

For the past couple of weeks, artichokes have been available in Barcelona markets for next to nothing. Normally, I'm a little loath to take the plunge with artichokes because of all the trimming and fussing that's involved, but Yukiko set me straight. Because these artichokes are young and beautifully tender, trimming is easier and you don't need to worry about the choke (the thistly interior).

This week, on Yukiko's recommendation, I bought a few. Then I incorporated them into a Spanish-style rice. Here's more or less how to recreate it:

Ingredients

3-4 young artichokes
1/2 lemon
1/2 pound of mushrooms, quartered
1 onion, diced
4 cloves of garlic, slivered
6 tbsp olive oil
2 cups Spanish short grain rice
small handful of chopped fresh thyme, parsley or oregano (optional)
2 bay leaves
1 tsp sweet paprika
4+ cups chicken or pork stock (I confess I used an oxo cube and didn't overly regret it; veggies, feel free to substitute a meatless stock)
salt and pepper to taste

Trim the base off the artichokes, remove the bottom 3-4 layers of tough leaves, and slice off the tops. Cut each artichoke into eight wedges and rub all over with the lemon to prevent browning, squeezing the juice into the artichokes as you go. (You can remove the choke by scraping it out, but I didn't bother.)

In a paella pan or large frying pan, sautee the onion and garlic in hot oil until golden (about 5 minutes). Add the artichokes and mushrooms and sautee for a further 3-5 minutes, browning the vegetables slightly. Season with salt and pepper and add the rice and herbs to the pan, combining well with the vegetables. Cover the mixture all at once with hot stock and leave to simmer, uncovered, for approximately 20 minutes until all the stock is absorbed. Taste and adjust the seasoning as you go. You may need to add more stock (feel free to use water) as the rice cooks if the stock is evaporating too quickly. Do not stir. Once all the stock is absorbed (the bottom should be lightly browned and just beginning to get crispy), turn off the heat, remove the bay leaves and let sit for a few minutes before serving.

Try it with a crisp white wine like a Spanish Rueda and a dish for discarding any tough artichoke bits that remain. I promise you'll feel the imminence of spring even though you may still be stuck in drifts of snow.

Pepe's Paella

One of my favourite Spanish names is undoubtedly Pepe. Pepe is short for Jose, a variant of Josep (Joseph). As my friend Pepe tells it, historically, Spanish and Italian paintings featuring the biblical Joseph (husband of Mary) were initialled with the letters "P.P." for "padre putativo", or putative father (of Jesus, of course, whose true or non-putative father was God, so we're told). The initials P.P. eventually morphed into the nickname Pepe, which in Spanish is pronounced identically to the pair of letters.

I haven't investigated any of this so take it for what it's worth. It could be a well-conceived fabrication, which wouldn't surprise me coming from Pepe.

In addition to elaborating with erudition on the subject of his name, Pepe has imparted various other pieces of valuable information, not the least of which is his recipe for paella. This recipe was handed down to me one Sunday afternoon at my friend David's place, to which I had been invited to sample the famous paella. David provided a chicken; Pepe took care of the rest.

Now, before I give you the recipe for Pepe's paella, you should know a few things. First, this is an authentic paella recipe from the land of paella, Valencia. Valencia's marshy coastal regions are ideal for rice growing and rice, in all its forms, is a staple of the Valencian diet. According to Pepe, Valencians enjoy great health as a result. Second, it is possible to further pinpoint the origin of Pepe's paella to Pepe's pueblo, Castellon, each Valencian pueblo enjoying a distinct version of paella. For example, south of the city of Valencia, fiddleheads are added to paella, which Pepe confirms is quite delicious. Elsewhere you might taste snails, ones you yourself find in the fields; a rare commodity to be sure.

Finally, there are three secrets to paella making. First, the ingredients must always be fresh-issimo. As Pepe warns, do not allow yourself to be cheated by a dishonest food merchant. Always demand the best. Second, your reason for making paella, or the "purpose of the paella", must be pure. You cannot cook paella for people you dislike or whilst in an irritated mood--claro que no. Third, paella must be made with cariño. Cariño is a sort of corporeal tenderness that you might show a timid lover. Paella, above all, needs cariño.

Now, if you are prepared with a noble purpose, cariño in ample quantity and the personal resources to demand the best from potentially unscrupulous food merchants, you are ready to make Pepe's paella. This is the recipe. It serves approximately 4 hungry paella eaters. I might observe that, as Pepe's instructions were somewhat fluid, the quantities are approximate and you may need to adjust the amount of water needed to complete the cooking process.

1. Cover the surface of a flat bottomed, high sided frying plan with olive oil. Don't skimp; paella needs a good amount of fat. If you happen to have a paella pan, dig it out from the bottom of the closet; it is time for it to prove its worth. If not, a large frying pan will do.

2. Turn the heat to high and allow the oil to get hot. Add a finely chopped clove of garlic or two and season the oil with a teaspoon or so of salt.

3. Add half a chicken and about half a pound of rabbit, each divided into approximately four pieces. If you like, you might at the same time add about a quarter pound of pork rib, also in four parts. We didn't have the latter and it didn't appear to hurt the paella so do as you will.

4. Cook the meat on high heat until well browned on all sides (about 10-15 minutes).

5. Lower the heat to medium and, along with about a teaspoon of sweet Spanish paprika, add the following vegetables, chopped into bite sized pieces unless otherwise specified:

1 large tomato with all its juice
1-2 bell peppers (preferably red, though green will do)
1/2 lb of green beans, broad beans or white kidney beans
1 artichoke, quartered, well trimmed and cleaned with lemon to avoid colouring the rice

You might also add some fresh rosemary or thyme to flavour the paella. We didn't have any. Their absence was not felt by a first time eater of Pepe's paella.

6. Sautee for another 10 minutes until the vegetables begin to soften.

7. Add about 1 litre of water (1 cup per person) and a pinch of saffron. Simmer for about 20 minutes until the meat is cooked through and has flavoured the stock.

8. Taste the broth for seasoning. Add salt and pepper as needed, being careful not to oversalt.

9. Add 2 cups of short-grain rice (1/2 cup per person) and cook uncovered for about 15-20 minutes or until just tender. The liquid should be absorbed at this point; you might need to sprinkle in more water if all the liquid has evaporated, and the rice is still hard. The goal is to achieve "el grano suelto", which is a closed, but flavourful grain of rice. If the rice is overcooked, the grain opens and, well, "el sabor se va."

10. Turn off the heat, cover and allow to sit for about 10-15 minutes.

We consumed our paella with several bottles of cava and a salad of avocado, tomato, onion and olives. Lunch lasted approximately 6 hours. Needless to say, it was delicious.