Culinary Crusade in Catalonia

The cuisine of Spain has been of particular interest to me over the last thirty years. I lived in the area of Catalonia, Valencia and Mallorca for two years. Since then I have traveled back a handful of times to those same areas and also Central Spain and Andalusia. 

I have discovered that the cuisine in this Mediterranean country is among the best—and overlooked—in the world. Health benefits of the Mediterranean Diet are widely touted, but they are usually associated with Greece and Italy. I ask, why not Spain? 

Life expectancy in this Iberian country is the seventh-highest in the world. I would attribute much of this to diet. 

The Spanish eat five meals a day. Common ingredients include vegetables, legumes, garlic, olive oil, chorizo and smoked paprika. Most meals begin with a first course of soup or salad. Dessert is less common, and usually not so rich as the American fare. Typical examples are fruit, yogurt, flan or Maria cookies with herbal tea. 

Typical shop selling Spanish cured ham.

I have learned that there is a difference between what is served at home verses what is served in restaurants. Of course, there is an overlap of the two, but restaurants are more likely to serve popular foods such as paella and tapas. Inside someone's home you're more likely to get a fideo soup, garbanzo stew, or something with chunks of blood sausage. 

Food in Spain is very regional. Although paella is the national dish, it hails from Valencia. Fabada is a distinctive bean stew with blood sausage from Asturias. The Basque are noted for their tapa-like pintxos. Gazpacho reigns in Andalusia. The coastal areas favor fish and seafood. 

Butifarra is a typical sausage of Catalonia.

Arroz a la Cubana is a popular dish in the Canary Islands and Catalonia.

On a recent trip to Spain I returned to the area of Catalonia with my daughter. As always, I set out to find as much local food as possible. With the exception of one meal, we would be eating in bars and restaurants. 

On our first evening in Barcelona we ate at a quaint restaurant near the Gothic Quarter. Since it was Kaitlyn's first meal in Spain, she went for the iconic dish of paella. I, however, ordered a more regional meal, one that is certainly difficult to make at home: arròs negre, or black rice. 

Arròs negre is a dish with a hint of sweetness and chunks of squid. It is blackened using liquid from the squid's ink sack. 

Black rice on the left and paella on the right.

Years ago I had a lady make this for me in her home. With a notebook I diligently copied down every ingredient and every action needed to complete the dish. When it came time to add the ink I asked, “Where can I find that?” 

She looked at me puzzled and responded, “At the store, of course!” 

Little did she know that most stores in the U.S. don't sell squid ink. [The one time at home I followed this recipe I had to special-order the squid and then order prepackaged squid ink from Spain. It was a lot of hassle.] 

Kaitlyn and I enjoyed our meal. It also came with a sampling of tapas, which included patatas bravas (bite-size baked potatoes with a spicy sauce), roasted padrón peppers, sauteed chicken, fried anchovies, and calamari rings. I noted that most of the tapas I saw in Catalonia did not come served on a slice of bread like those I had seen in other provinces. 

Sampling of tapas.

My culinary crusade consisted not only of eating food, but looking at it also. One of the great pleasures of Spain is found in visiting food markets. 

We walked through the Mercat de Santa Caterina, a market just east of the Gothic Quarter near Via Laietana. The journey was both visionary, as well as olfactory. We walked through a large warehouse-sized building past colorful stacks of fruits and vegetables. Hanging from the shops were legs of ham, with their unique scent of cured and salty meat. Entire bodies of fish and prawns sat atop tables of ice. Somewhere from another corner of the market wafted the aroma of freshly baked bread. 

We found a place here to sit and eat a bocadillo, or “little mouthful” as it is literally translated from Spanish. These sandwiches are typical in Spain, made using French baguettes. I ordered a jamón y queso—a ham and cheese sandwich. Although simple in contents, the sandwich offered a flavorful punch. The ham was a cured Spanish jamón, thinly sliced and similar to Italian prosciutto. They may have squeezed half a tomato onto the bread and added a drizzle of olive oil, but that was it. Pretty simple. 

Vegetable stand in the Mercat de Santa Caterina.

Seafood on a table of ice.

One of my favorite meals was consumed at an outdoor cafe in Tarragona, which is about an hour south of Barcelona. Tarragona is famous for its Roman ruins, in particular an amphitheater and aqueduct. It sits alongside the sea to create a picturesque setting. 

But for this midday meal we sat at a table in the Old Quarter atop a narrow cobblestone street. For our first course I had melon and jamón, a salty and sweet combination. Kaitlyn ordered calamares a la Romana, a staple at many restaurants that are basically fried squid rings. 

Calamares a la Romana with a salad.

A perfect combination of sweet melon and cured Spanish ham.

For my next course I chose morcilla con cebolla (or blood sausage with onion) with grilled asparagus and french fries. The blood sausage is definitely an acquired taste and has a soft texture that is unique. Usually in the preparation stage the sausages are made by mixing blood with either onions or rice.

Nearly every meal on this trip was served with french fries, which seemed to happen far more often than it did thirty years ago. I'm assuming they are catering to tourists. Fries in Spain don't come with ketchup. They are usually served plain or with mayo. 

Kaitlyn ate bacalao (cod) in tomato sauce. Afterward we drank a small cup of manzanilla (chamomile) tea. 

Kaitlyn eats cod in tomato sauce.

Morcilla, or blood sausage, served with fries and asparagus.

It is interesting to note the impact immigration has had on food in Catalonia. Like much of Europe, they have experienced a huge influx of people from the Middle East and North Africa. Not only do these people set up shops to sell their wares, but they open food establishments that sell items such as doner kebabs, something I had never encountered in the nineties. Sometimes a restaurant will sell authentic Spanish food, but it is owned and cooked by Muslims. 

As I stated earlier, we ate one of our meals with a family in their home. Teo, Enric and their daughter, Marta, are friends of mine from my stay in 1994. They live in Girona, a staunch Catalan city located an hour from the border with France. 

Horchata in Spain is made from the chufa nut and differs in taste from that in Mexico.

After a full day of driving us around to different sites in the area, we stopped at their apartment to cenar. In Spain the cena is the final meal of the day, usually being lighter than their heavy midday meal. Spain is also noted for staying up and eating late. Hence it was about 10 pm when we began to eat. 

Teo set out a wonderful array of food across the table. We found an arrangement of jamón, green olives, pork loin, tuna, roasted red peppers and cheese. She also made a French omelette. 

An array of food in the home of Teo and Enric.

We ate while carrying conversation, covering such topics as immigration in Spain and local eating and sleeping habits. It is interesting to note that although Spaniards eat five meals a day, they are lean and have very low obesity rates. I attribute this to their healthy ingredients, as well as the fact that they still attempt to eat together, making meals a social event rather than a stuff-yourself-full event. 

Fresh fish is common along the Mediterranean coast.

We spent our final day trying to take in as much as we could and enjoy our final hours. As far as eating was concerned, I had one last request. 

In the Raval District of Barcelona we found an obscure hole-in-the-wall style restaurant. I remember there being brick walls and tables set up along the window, with a one-foot gap at the bottom to allow air form outside to flow in. 

We came to eat churros y chocolate, a treat in Spain that should never be missed. The churros are usually curly, without as much cinnamon as the Mexican version. The chocolate is thick, nearly the consistency of mud. It is eaten by dipping churros into the chocolate. 

We savored every bite that evening. Although I have occasionally made these at home, there is something special about eating under humid Mediterranean air, late at night with conversation all around us in Castillian Spanish or Catalan. 

By the time we finished and returned to our room it was 2 am. ♠

 

Churros y chocolate.

 

A Photographic Essay of Barcelona

Barcelona, Spain is one of my favorite cities in the world. Since the 1992 Olympics, it has gradually become one of the most popular destinations on the globe. When I first visited this Catalan Capital in the early nineties, few people were familiar with it. Yet now, it is not uncommon for acquaintances and friends to have this be the site of their summer vacation. 

There is more to Barcelona than meets the eye. There are more than beaches, tapas and the iconic Basilica of the Sagrada Familia. In its depth, there is a culture that outsiders seldom see. There are streets outside the tourist zone where foreigners rarely tread. Bubbling behind the surface is also an independence movement that at times has sparked violence. 

I returned to Barcelona a few years ago with my daughter. Part of my goal was to show her as much of the city and its culture as possible, both known and hidden. What follows is a story of Barcelona through the lens of a camera.

 

Carrer de la Volta dels Tamborets in El Born District.

Església de Santa Maria de Montalegre de Barcelona.

Detail of Basilica of Santa Maria del Mar.

Local street festival.

L'Estel Ferit, a contemporary sculpture on San Miguel Beach.

Competition of human towers.

Tombs of Ramon Berenguer I and his wife, Almodis, in the Cathedral of Saint Eulalia.

Detail on Basilica of the Sagrada Familia.

Pockmarks from the Spanish Civil War on the walls of the church of Sant Felip Neri.

Sculpture of a child's face.

View of Montjuïc from roof of the Cathedral.

Palau de la Música Catalana.

Cathedral of Barcelona.

Street in El Raval at Midnight.

Barcelona Metro.

Palace of the Balmesiana in the Plaça del Vuit de Març.

“Woman and Bird” sculpture by Catalan artist, Joan Miró.

Casa Milà, a building designed by Catalan architect, Antoni Gaudí.

The Champions.

Sant Pau del Camp, a former church and monastery from the 12th century.

Montjuïc Cemetery.

Plaça d'Espanya.

Camp Nou, home stadium of Barcelona Football Club.

Church of Sant Llàtzer in the Plaça del Pedró, El Raval.

A silent protest for political prisoners.

Street performer in the Gothic Quarter.

Sculpture of La Gamba (the shrimp) located on a walkway next to the sea.

Words written on a tree to memorialize a terrorist attack on the Rambla in 2017 which killed 13 and wounded 130.

Fragment of Roman aqueduct in Barcelona.

Saint George (patron Saint of Catalonia) killing the dragon.

Statue of Columbus pointing toward the New World.

The Beautiful City of Girona

[Author's note: There are so many places, past and present, that I want to write about. The list is so long that some locations get neglected for years after my visit. That is the case for Girona. I went there in 2018 and am just now writing about it. Luckily, I have used many photos and journal entries and in my mind it feels as if it were yesterday.] 

The ride was only 38 minutes in train from Barcelona. Our hotel, the Hotel Condal, is very nice. We have a great view from the sixth floor where we can look over the city and see the tower of the cathedral. 

We find a grocery store and buy enough food to satisfy us for lunch and dinner. Across the street we buy a bar of bread from a panadería. Then we sit on a bench in a park and eat. We tear the bread into sections, then top it with chorizo, xató sauce and goat cheese. We chase it down with liquid yogurt. For dessert we eat Bollycaos, basically a hot dog bun with Nutella. How good it feels to be in Girona! 

I haven't been back in nearly 20 years. 

Basilica of Sant Feliu (left) and Cathedral of Santa Maria of Girona (right).

Girona is one of my favorite cities in all of Spain. It's colorful buildings along the river, the narrow streets and dominating cathedral make for a beautiful city. I am here with my daughter, Kaitlyn, anxious to show her a slice of heaven where I used to live. 

Girona is in the heart of Catalonia, an autonomous region in northern Spain that speaks its own language and has its own culture. Currently there is a strong movement among the Catalan people to break from Spain and be their own country. The Catalan Independence movement has been the impetus for protests and riots during the last year. One of the first things I noticed upon arriving in Girona were the large amount of flags, yellow ribbons and other symbols of the separatist movement. 

A view from the gardens of the cathedral.

We cross the River Onyar and enter the medieval section of Girona. We walk down the Rambla de la Llibertat where the street now becomes a pedestrian walkway. Stores with high-end designer clothing, pastry shops, and ice cream booths all dot the path. It all looks exactly how I remember it. 

The closer we get to the cathedral, the narrower the streets. Under our feet the cobblestones take on a steeper grade as we move uphill. Our final ascent to the Gothic cathedral includes climbing 89 steep steps. It is humbling to think that royalty for over a thousand years climbed these same stairs. 

Narrow street near cathedral.

Staircase leading to the Cathedral of Girona.

The Catedral de Santa Maria de Girona is the jewel of the city. I remember the last time I was here and we arrived just after dusk on a train from France. As we rolled into view of the city, the cathedral sat in all it's majesty on the hillside, glowing like a beacon. It gave me tingles. 

Like many of the cathedrals in Europe, it has a layered past. Once a primitive Christian church, it was conquered by the Muslims in 717 A.D. and converted into a mosque. Seventy years later the city was recaptured by Charlemagne. The church was restored in subsequent centuries and eventually a cloister and bell tower were added. In 1416 the church was redesigned and a large Gothic nave—the second largest in the world—was added. 

In spite of a few stained-glass windows, the cathedral is very dark inside. 

As with other cathedrals, there are many people buried under the floor and in the walls. Among them is Ramón Berenguer II, my direct ancestor. His stone sepulcher sits atop an archway in the nave for all to see. A detailed carving of the count lies atop the sepulcher. His grandmother, Ermesenda of Carcassonne, is buried in a chapel on the other side of the church. The cloister is also full of several tombs. Given that I love cemeteries, this is a wonderful place for me. I get a historical building and graveyard all in one visit! 

Tomb of Ramon Berenguer II in Girona Cathedral.

Several tombs in cloister of cathedral.

It is interesting how most Catholic cathedrals are just secular displays of history. Yes, when they were built they were given a lot of symbolism that told stories from the bible and their own history. But that teaching element is gone, at least for those who flock here now. There are many different chapels honoring many different people—including Jesus, Mary and many Saints. But there are so many that it becomes confusing as to what is the focus. The focus of the cathedral today is the architecture, the history, the majesty. 

When it rains, immense amounts of water fall on the roof of the cathedral that would saturate it if it were not diverted. In Gothic cathedrals there are systems of stone canals that collect the water and drain it through a creatively carved sculptures called gargoyles. 

On the Cathedral of Girona, all the gargoyles are of a decorative nature, or that of a monster or animal. That is, all except one. Near the Tower of Charlemagne is a sculpture of a witch. She wears a long vestment and bonnet covering her hair. In her hands she holds a scroll and parchment. Her mouth is eternally open to eschew the rain-water. 

According to legend she was a woman dedicated to the diabolical art of witchery, who, to display her hate of religion, would cast rocks at the cathedral. One day, by divine work, the witch was turned into stone and placed on the highest part of the church. She was placed face-down, perpetually looking at the ground, so she could never cast another spell. 

The witch of the Cathedral.

After visiting the cathedral, we take a walk on the old Roman walls. Built as a defense for the city, the walls were constructed in the first century A.D. and then reconstructed in the fourteen century. Today, half the circuit still remains, and has been fortified so that people can walk on top. 

The views from the Roman walls are probably the best in all the town. The cathedral dominates the horizon and the bell tower of the Basilica of Sant Feliu protrudes just below. Red-tiled rooftops spread across the landscape. There is a clear line of demarcation where the old city ends and the new begins.

Old Roman Wall that surrounds the city.

A view of the city from the wall shows the divide between the old city (in foreground),and the new section.

We enter through one of the towers near the cathedral and follow it to its end near the River Onyar. It is a peaceful walk and gives a unique perspective of the city and its history. 

After a brief stop at our hotel, we return to the street at dusk, just in time to observe the evening paseo. This is a marvelous scene that unfolds across Spain every night. Couples, families and friends dress up and go on walks. Fathers push strollers and lovers hold hands. 

We buy some ice cream and sit on a bench while watching pedestrians. We observe that there are big differences comparing Girona to Barcelona. There are fewer tourists and immigrants here. More Catalan is spoken and they dress more conservatively. 

Here there are Catalan flags draped everywhere, as well as yellow ribbons. The ribbons are in memory of the recent political prisoners in the fight for separation. The Catalan flags with a star represent Catalan Independence. 

Plaça del Vi.

A fresh food market in Girona.

The next day we are at it again, this time with a full day to explore the city. We go to a food market for breakfast. I buy a large rectangular croissant with chocolate filling. Kaitlyn buys a drinkable yogurt from the grocery store. 

There is a street market selling sunglasses for as much as 100 €!

We cross the River Onyar via the Pont de les Peixateries, a red metal bridge built by Gustav Eiffel before he built the Eiffel Tower. On both sides of the river are beautiful pastel-painted buildings, their reflections shimmering in the water. In the distance the cathedral towers above everything else. 

The River Onyar.

Our first stop is the Jewish Quarter, affectionately referred to as El Call. One of these days I will write more extensively on the Jews and their history in Spain. Suffice to say here that they lived in their own neighborhood, were very educated, and were eventually driven out with the Spanish Inquisition. 

El Call has some of the narrowest streets in all of Girona. It is a fascinating place to be. Woven into these narrow alleyways are meandering staircases and hidden archways. 

There is an interesting museum with a star of David on the patio. Of interest to me were some of the old headstones with Hebrew inscriptions that had been removed from the cemetery. 

A narrow alleyway in the Jewish Quarter.

The Jewish Quarter is known as El Call.

After lunch we stop at an archeological museum housed in a former convent. They have several Roman tombs, which I think are very fascinating. They also display artifacts from all the major eras, including the Bronze Age. 

Sant Pere de Galligants, an archeological museum in an old monastery.

On our next destination we come upon a rally for Catalan Independence. This is located on a small side-street and if you didn't happen upon it, you'd never know it was there. Most of the participants are young, but there is support from all ages. 

One speaker pontificates with energy the fight against Spanish injustice. This whole town is united in their battle against the State. There are signs everywhere denouncing political prisoners. Catalan flags of independence drape from the balconies. Old men wear yellow ribbons on their lapels. 

Candid shot during the street rally.

Symbols of Catalan separatism drape the balconies.

By now, evening is arriving again. We have spent plenty of time in the historical tourist section, but now we make our way over the bridge and into the newer section of the city where everyday people call their home. 

On the Pont de les Peixateries.

We come to Devesa Park, a large woodland with massive trees, alongside the River Ter. As a pleasant surprise, we come across several games of petanca. You know you're with the locals when you find a petanca match. 

Petanca is the Spanish and French version of horseshoes. I've never played it, but I understand the gist. A small ball called a boliche is tossed onto the court, and then the objective is to get as close as you can with your own bigger metallic ball called a bola. Spaniards are pretty good at this game. They can get pretty close and often they will knock another players bola out of range. 

It appears as if it is a league night. Each team is wearing matching shirts. A man stands inside a red hoop that is placed on the ground. With his bola in his right hand, he holds it palm-down and bends his knees slightly as his gaze is fixed upon the boliche on the other side of the court. Then, with the finesse of a dancer, he tosses the ball and it lands within inches of the boliche. 

Petanca in Devesa Park.

We continue our walk through the park. Tall trees tower over us, creating a canopy of branches. On the other end of the wooded park is a music festival. As we get closer we can hear the rhythm of flamenco and pop music. 

We quickly join a lively crowd that is dancing to the music. On stage are the performers, the lead singer dressed like a gipsy. Families are there: mothers, fathers, kids of all ages. The beat is catchy. Fathers are dancing with sons and mothers are moving to the beat with babies in their arms. 

The atmosphere is fun, but we soon learn that this is the final song of the night. We are disappointed, but grateful to have at least seen part of it. 

This is our final evening on the streets of Girona. Tomorrow will be our last day, but will be spending it with friends. 

Panorama of Girona from the Roman Walls.

One of the many legends coming out of Girona is that of the flies of Saint Narcís. 

During a siege in the year 1286, the French attacked Girona and ransacked many of the churches. In the church of St. Feliu, they tore open the tomb of Saint Narcís, hoping to desecrate his body. To their surprise, out of the tomb flew thousands of large flies. The insects began to furiously attack the French soldiers, forcing them to retreat back to their own country, thus saving the city. 

In two days, we go to France, also. But I doubt we'll be chased by flies. ♠

The River Onyar at night from the Pont de Pedra.