A Picnic in Heaven

Heaven, I'm in heaven

And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak

And I seem to find the happiness I seek

...

And then, of course, there's the "cheek to cheek" business of the Irving Berlin classic, but I never get to that part when I'm singing the song in my head these days. "I'm in heaven" is on a permanent loop.

Indeed, heaven is the luscious slice of bliss that is currently Barcelona: cotton candy cumuli bobbing on periwinkle skies, whispering oak canopies shading the grand boulevards, terrace gardens erupting in flower, choirs of birds singing the city awake, a heat that hasn't lost its kindness, and a slight breeze ruffling the scarves that cling stubbornly to Barcelona necks despite forecasts of a balmy 25C. It's the kind of ephemeral perfection that leaves one wandering the city in a bemused trance hoping that the reverie never ends.

Actually, the best part is that it's only just beginning. Tourist invasion aside, spring and summer in Barcelona are an absolute wonder and, whether you're a hardened Barcelona resident or a wide eyed visitor, I recommend celebrating their glory with a picnic.

Your picnic need not be elaborate. You can make do with a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of wine or maybe even a cava if you're hoping to get lucky. Throw in a brownie or a punnet of strawberries or perhaps both and you have a veritable feast. All you need to worry about is the blanket as I'm about to take care of the rest.

In terms of ready-made picnic supplies, Barcelona abounds with bakeries and food shops to cater to your every need. In a pinch, try the sandwiches and cakes at the Eixample's Mauri Pastelería (www.pasteleriasmauri.com, tarts and croquettes of all kinds are a particular treat)) or at Garriga (c/ Consell de Cent 308, tel. 932 157 215, the plum cake (in Spanish, "ploom cake") is particularly delicious); more elaborate take away plates and generous American style desserts at Born Cooking (www.borncooking.com, excellent if you're missing carrot cake or chocolate chip cookies); a variety of ready made dishes, including traditional favourites, at Pim Pam Plats and its sister restaurant Pim Pam Burger in the Born (pimpamplats.com); delectable baked goods at the recently opened Atlanta bakery (c/Princesa, just off of Via Laietana, beware of the baffling lack of reasonable take away containers, particularly as there's nowhere to eat inside) [NOTE 17-08-2009: Atlanta closed as rapidly as it opened; in its place, and under the same name, you can now find a women's clothing store]; wine and just about any canned product at the Eixample's Colmado Quilez (Rambla Catalunya 63, tel. 932 158 78; in a nod to old timey redundancy, get the cashier to total your purchase, take the receipt to the woman at the door to pay and return with the stamped receipt to pick up your purchase from the cashier); and, if you're feeling a little more hands on and up for adventure, anything and everything at the spectacular Boquería Market (www.boqueria.info).

Ferreting out the perfect location is also a breeze these days. Some of the best picnic spots in Barcelona can be found on the steamy beaches with their buzzing boardwalks and chiringuitos (venture past Barceloneta and Puerto Olympico for fewer American teenagers); on the shady slopes of Montjuic--best experienced while watching an outdoor movie with your picnic dinner (check out www.salamontjuic.com for this summer's movie schedule, screenings start June 29 and continue to the end of July); amid Ciutadella Park's tree-lined hive of activity, whether during a concert (the Musica Classica als Parcs concert series is scheduled for Thursdays and Fridays at 10pm in Ciutadella and Turo Parks between July 2 and 24, 2009) or an impromptu juggling rehearsal; within the idyl of Gaudi's Parque Guell (brave the crowds at the entrance and on the fabulous tiled terrace and make your way to the rustic aqueducts lined with alcove benches); and, if you're in the mood for a subway ride (Mundet or Valldaura metro stops on the Green Line (L3)), lost in the childish pleasure of the the living labyrinth in the Parque del Laberinto de Horta. For more information about Barcelona parks, gardens and beaches check out the Parks and Gardens portion of the City's website at www.bcn.es/parcsijardins.

Oh, and one more thing, if you're lovers, or maybe even if you're not, take along a book of the now deceased Mario Benedetti's poems, as Felipe and I did this week, and select a few to read out loud over a glass of wine on the grass.

The Charred and the Seedless (Escalivada)

By way of adding to your tapas repertoire, I'm going to tell you about escalivada. And, yes, this too is inspired by Jordi and Deirdre's calçotada, which featured deliciousness far beyond mere calçots.

The word escalivada comes from the Catalan verb escalivar, which means to roast over hot embers or, in the approximate language of today's world, char grill. A true escalivada, which has peasant and country roots, involves placing whole unwashed vegetables (generally, eggplants, peppers and tomatoes) into an open fire (or, better yet, hot ashes) to roast--as in the photo above--, then peeling and serving them with a sprinkling of oil and salt. This of course requires access to an open fire, which I will assume most of the readers of this blog don't readily have.

Fortunately, an open fire is not absolutely necessary to make a slightly less authentic version of the beloved salad, a version that is easy peasy and open to fiddling and interpretation. I, for one, often dispense with everything but the eggplant, peppers, tomatoes and salt (particularly when I'm feeling an excess of weight in the thigh region) and use quantities of vegetables that reflect what's readily available in my fridge rather than exact amounts. Please use what follows more as a spiritual guide than as biblical escalivada truth.

Ingredients

2 large or 4 small eggplants
4 red peppers
4 tomatoes
1 onion (optional)
2 cloves of garlic (optional)
1 tsp finely chopped parsley (optional)
olive oil, salt and pepper (to taste)

Preparation

Preheat the oven to 220 degrees C. Slice the eggplants in half and set aside for half an hour sprinkled with salt to remove the bitter juices. In the meantime, cut the peppers in half, remove seeds and place cut side down on a baking sheet lined with oiled aluminum foil. If you are using onion (I don't), place it--sliced in half, drizzled with olive oil and wrapped in aluminum foil--in the oven with the peppers. Roast for about 30 minutes or until the skin of the peppers has blackened and is coming away from the surface. Remove and set aside. Roast the eggplant in the same way once you have rinsed off the salt and dried each piece. Slice the tomatoes in half and roast for about 15-20 minutes--if you have room, you can slide the tomatoes in with the eggplant about 10-15 minutes into the eggplant's roasting time. Remove the skin from the roasted vegetables, slice into strips and combine in a serving bowl, being sure to include the juices. Dress with salt and pepper, the minced garlic and a little olive oil. (Leave out the garlic and oil for a lighter salad and, if so inclined, sprinkle in some finely chopped parsley.)

As for final touches, I often top escalivada with a soft Catalan goat cheese. I place the escalivada in an oven proof container, cover with large slices of goat cheese and brown under the broiler for a couple of minutes or until the cheese is golden. This version--as well as the cheeseless one--is delicious as part of a meal of tapas or alongside any meat dish.

Another common way to serve is on toasted bread topped with good quality anchovies and, if you like, olives.

Come to think of it, the always packed Cerveceria Catalana (c/ Mallorca 236 (Eixample), 93 216 0368) has terrific examples of both versions for those who'd rather forego the cooking altogether.

Salsa Romesco

It's rare that I deliver on my gratuitous on-line promises, but today is an exception. I've had the recipe for an unbelievable salsa romesco on my hands for some time and it seems a profound transgression not to share it. Not only is it straight from Tarragona--cradle of the romesco sauce and charming Roman town just an hour outside of Barcelona--, it's also a tried and true family recipe, courtesy of Mrs. Fernández Roig, a.k.a. Jordi's mom, who prepared it for a crowd of hungry calçot eaters earlier this spring. See the Calçotada post for details.

You may not know a lot about salsa romesco; it doesn't have the international caché of an allioli or a bernaise, but it does have the chops and is a Catalan favourite. It's sweet, it's savoury, it's smooth, it's crunchy and, while it goes with almost anything (I was spreading it liberally on toasted bread recently), it's most commonly served with roasted vegetables, including calçots, as well as fish and seafood.

The base, in addition to ground nuts and olive oil, contains a type of pepper that is difficult to find outside of Spain. The traditional peppers used are often referred to as "romesco peppers" and can easily be found in Catalunya; they are distinct from ñora peppers which are often also used. These peppers are smaller than your average red pepper and have a richness that a regular capsicum does not. Outside of Spain, red bell peppers can be substituted, but I'm afraid the substitution, if not exactly second rate, makes the salsa more of a romesco "lite".

Now, here is the recipe, just as it was provided to me--with translation and some explanation. I must say I had to guess regarding the quantities of pimentón, olive oil, and vinegar, but that is the beauty of a family recipe.

Ingredients

125 gr toasted almonds
125 gr toasted hazelnuts
50 gr pine nuts
2 walnuts
1 onion
8 tomatoes
1/2 head garlic
5 dried "romesco" peppers
a tiny bit of raw garlic, pressed (to taste)
a tiny bit of sugar (to taste)
1 tsp spicy pimentón (or hot paprika)
about a cup of olive oil
about half a cup of red wine vinegar
salt (to taste)
cayenne pepper (to taste; optional and not part of Jordi's mom's recipe)

Preparation

Char grill the onion, tomatoes, garlic and blanch the peppers (if using fresh peppers, char grill these too). (If you are Jordi's mom, you will do the char grilling over a wood fire in the outdoor brick oven in your backyard; if you are not, you will likely have to do with your home oven at about 220 degrees C for 30 minutes or so.) Once the vegetables have cooled sufficiently, remove the skin. You will now have to use a food processor unless you have freakishly strong arms and a giant mortar and pestle. Start with the nuts; add the vegetables and seasonings next; and finish things off with the olive oil, added slowly in a thin stream to ensure the sauce holds together (some add a bit of toasted bread to the mix to help with the consistency). Process until well mixed but not completely smooth. Add vinegar and salt to taste at the very end.

By the way, to be completely authentic, you should buy your olive oil and hazelnuts in Constanti, the town where Jordi's mom was born.

This recipe will serve ten, so prepare to share.

Roses and Books (La Diada de Sant Jordi)

So, Sant Jordi is a saint, the patron saint of Catalunya in fact. You may know him better as Saint George. You know, the one who slew the dragon. You must have heard about the dragon--the dragon that was menacing the village and demanding villager blood in return for not wreaking even more destruction (you know, not unlike the former Bush government). Each night, the villagers would decide by lottery who would offer him or herself to the dragon the next morning. The village's government was rather egalitarian and, one day, the lot fell on the village's princess. She went willingly to meet her fate; however, before the dragon could tear her to shreds, Saint George appeared on his firey steed and stuck a lance through the dragon's heart. Catalan legend has it that out of the dragon's blood a rose bush sprang.

Now, one might quibble about the fact that Saint George waited until the princess was in danger before he slew the dragon, letting countless hapless villagers go to their deaths, but that would simply show a flawed understanding of foreign policy--the central tenet of which appears to be don't get off your couch until there's something in it for you, whether that be simple glory or foreign oil.

Glory Saint George received. Catalans, for one, celebrate him on April 23 by giving roses and books to their beloveds. The roses, a symbol of passion, are accompanied by blades of wheat, a symbol of fertility, and the Catalan flag, a symbol of the still simmering Catalan nationalism; they are traditionally a gift for the ladies, though times are changing. The gentlemen, in turn, receive books. This appears to have more to do with the fact that April 23 is also the International Day of the Book and, coincidentally, the date on which both Shakespeare and Cervantes died. In any case, it's a charming custom.

In Barcelona, the streets are never more packed than on the Diada de Sant Jordi. Book and flower sellers are out in tents on Paseo de Gracia, Rambla Catalunya and Las Ramblas, selling wares to couples strolling by. Well, that's the public relations dream; the reality is that it's more a day of teeming throngs--lovely as the idea is, we had to narrowly escape suffocating crowds and exhausting line ups as we were strolling yesterday evening. Despite the challenges, I am today the proud owner of Exciting Barcelona: Festivals and traditions and Contemporary American Culture: An Anthropological View, not to mention a blood red rose.

To check out Barcelona hotels click here: Barcelona Hotels.

Calçotada

Well, I have sunk to such depths of delinquency this time that readers have taken to emailing me to ask if they should remove my inactive blog from their reading list. Please let me take this opportunity to assure you that I have not drifted off to eternal sleep; I've just been hibernating. And, as spring is fully swinging here in Barcelona, the time is more than apt to come out of my cave, if only to blink dazedly and crawl back in for another snooze.

Since I'm out here now, let me remedy my long standing failure to post the calçotada link I promised (go ahead and click on it now): Feting the humble onion in Catalonia. The article came out in the Globe & Mail in March and I must thank my friends Jordi and Deirdre for supplying the culinary and literary fodder for the piece and the 2-3 extra pounds I put on in the single day of feasting.

I should also mention that the calçots we ate that day were accompanied by a fabulous salsa romesco prepared by Jordi's mom, a master of this sweet and spicy traditional sauce. She was kind enough to provide me with her recipe, which (at the risk of once more making promises I may not keep) I will post here shortly.

For those looking for an authentic calçotada experience near Barcelona, the article contains a couple of restaurant recommendations. However, we are at the very, very end of calçot season and you may need to wait until next year to get down with the onion in true Catalan style.

Back to Barcelona

Yes, it's spring here in Barcelona. Yes, it's approx-imately 30 degrees warmer than it is in Canada (conser-vatively speaking). And, yes, since getting over the shock to my system, I'm really, really, really enjoying it.

February and March are the months of the calçotada in Catalunya. It's the time of year when Catalans celebrate the humble calçot (a type of spring onion) by eating it with gusto. Deirdre, my lovely Canadian friend, and Jordi, her lovely Catalan husband, invited us to experience the genuine article at Jordi's family home in Tarragona this year. An article is forthcoming in the Globe (hopefully) and a family recipe for romesco sauce, which accompanies calçots, will appear here shortly. Stay tuned.

Toronto

Before I get back to what's going on in sunny, spring-time Barcelona, it would be remiss of me not to mention Toronto, where we stopped on our way back to Barcelona for random toboganning, extravagant dinners with friends and some very unpleasant dentist appointments. Don't worry, I still have all my own teeth.

This year, my favourite addition to the always changing Toronto scene was OddFellows (936 Queen St. W., 416-534-5244, reservations recommended for weekend evenings), for the unabashed fun of it. The brainchild of designers Kei Ng and Brian Richer, OddFellows blends eclectic, modern, campy and sometimes just plain weird design pieces with an atmosphere that's as down home as it gets: a wood burning stove, a long communal table, the clatter of dishes, the bumping of elbows and the buzz of conversation...well, it's actually more like a clamour to be heard over the throbbing music, but it's a minor niggle.

The food follows the homey elements of the space: bison meatloaf, pressure cooker lamb stew, a burger the size of a small child's head--all fantastic and all seasoned with a giant dose of family dinner hour nostalgia, right down to the creamed corn and partitioned plates.

Initially, I thought that there was a certain kind of pretension behind OddFellows' self conscious devil-may-care-ness and deliberately incongruous pairing of out-there design with the staples of home cooked comfort food. Certainly there's an eerie sense of displacement, a carefully constructed falseness of the kind you feel when you enter an artist's model of a house. Maybe it's just the reverb of putting an unfamiliar spin on the ultra familiar. Ultimately, it's just another element of the experience and the bottom line is that the experience, particularly in good company, is great. You should go.