From the London Times
It is the regional speciality of Valencia, in eastern Spain, and nowhere is it taken more seriously than in the village of El Palmar, in the very heart of the rice-growing area.
For paella purists, there are a number of rules that must be adhered to. The first concerns the type of rice, which should be medium- or short-grained in order to absorb as much stock as possible. In El Palmar, they only usebomba, the fat, stubby variety grown in the adjacent marshes of La Albufera.
Separated from the Mediterranean by a thin strip of beach, these salty, silent waters were first used as paddy fields in the 8th century by the Moors, whose ingenious system of canals and bridges is still in use today.
Other ingredients are flexible – a paella de la huerta, or country paella, might additionally contain artichokes, sausage and plump white lima beans called garrafon. Saffron paella is common, and there are even varieties that employ cuttlefish stock and cauliflower.
And while a paella de mariscos is perfectly acceptable, it is considered bad form to mix seafood and meat. What to drink: wines made from the local bobal grape are the traditional accompaniment to rice dishes, and there are so many good ones, you’ll be spoilt for choice – light reds from Utiel are particularly sought after.
When to go: hearty food like this is best avoided in high summer. In any case, this part of eastern Spain is nicest in autumn and winter, when the fierce heat becomes more comfortable. Insider tip: good paella is always cooked fresh; and given the size of the pan, many places insist that at least two people order it. Also, because it’s such a substantial meal, many only serve it at lunchtime – which often doesn’t begin until 2pm.
Where to eat it: it isn’t hard to find a good paella restaurant in El Palmar – the long main street consists of little else. If you have a car, head to L’Establiment, just out of town – it’s one of the best, in a pleasant setting overlooking a reed-lined canal. If you’re without transport, buses marked “Valencia-Perello” run regularly from the bullring in Valencia.
Even in Valencia itself, there are plenty to choose from. Pepica on Avenue Neptuno was Ernest Hemingway’s favourite: “A big, clean, open-air place . . . you could hear the sea breaking on the beach and the lights shone on the wet sand.”
Everyone thinks they know paella – a mixture of rice and seafood served in a big dish like a soup bowl, right? Wrong, actually. Though the tourist version can be delicious, true paella – pronounced “pah-eya” – originated as a way of cooking rice with protein from the countryside, particularly wild rabbit and snails.
It is the regional speciality of Valencia, in eastern Spain, and nowhere is it taken more seriously than in the village of El Palmar, in the very heart of the rice-growing area.
For paella purists, there are a number of rules that must be adhered to. The first concerns the type of rice, which should be medium- or short-grained in order to absorb as much stock as possible. In El Palmar, they only usebomba, the fat, stubby variety grown in the adjacent marshes of La Albufera.
Separated from the Mediterranean by a thin strip of beach, these salty, silent waters were first used as paddy fields in the 8th century by the Moors, whose ingenious system of canals and bridges is still in use today.
Second, paella must always be cooked over an open fire. This is partly because the traditional cooking pan, the paellera, is more than 16in wide, and partly because the rhythm of an open fire suits the cooking process – a fierce heat to fry the meat, then a gentle one to simmer the rice.
An even heat is also essential to the creation of a socarrat, the crusty, crunchy bottom layer of rice that is served as a special delicacy. To this end, the paella is never stirred once the rice is added, the pan being gently rotated over the flames instead.
An even heat is also essential to the creation of a socarrat, the crusty, crunchy bottom layer of rice that is served as a special delicacy. To this end, the paella is never stirred once the rice is added, the pan being gently rotated over the flames instead.
Other ingredients are flexible – a paella de la huerta, or country paella, might additionally contain artichokes, sausage and plump white lima beans called garrafon. Saffron paella is common, and there are even varieties that employ cuttlefish stock and cauliflower.
And while a paella de mariscos is perfectly acceptable, it is considered bad form to mix seafood and meat. What to drink: wines made from the local bobal grape are the traditional accompaniment to rice dishes, and there are so many good ones, you’ll be spoilt for choice – light reds from Utiel are particularly sought after.
When to go: hearty food like this is best avoided in high summer. In any case, this part of eastern Spain is nicest in autumn and winter, when the fierce heat becomes more comfortable. Insider tip: good paella is always cooked fresh; and given the size of the pan, many places insist that at least two people order it. Also, because it’s such a substantial meal, many only serve it at lunchtime – which often doesn’t begin until 2pm.
Where to eat it: it isn’t hard to find a good paella restaurant in El Palmar – the long main street consists of little else. If you have a car, head to L’Establiment, just out of town – it’s one of the best, in a pleasant setting overlooking a reed-lined canal. If you’re without transport, buses marked “Valencia-Perello” run regularly from the bullring in Valencia.
Even in Valencia itself, there are plenty to choose from. Pepica on Avenue Neptuno was Ernest Hemingway’s favourite: “A big, clean, open-air place . . . you could hear the sea breaking on the beach and the lights shone on the wet sand.”
No comments:
Post a Comment