Spain

You know when you have a really good dream, but you have a hard time remembering all of the details?  You wake up with a general good feeling, but your disoriented brain can't quite shake the discomfort left by the fuzzy time-warped events?  That was my trip to Spain.

A little too dramatic?  Maybe.  The truth is, my other half was sidelined by a wicked viral nemesis for almost the entire time, but he was a trooper and we certainly made the most of the situation.  I'm not sure if it was the smartest idea to occasionally prioritize delicious food over a timely and healthy recovery, but we made enough great memories to dream for our return.  

So beautiful.

This is as good as it looks.

Temple of Augustus, Gothic Quarter, Barcelona -  I know the Romans are not universally loved,
but they sure do know how to set up great long-lasting structures, cities, and cultures.
They, of course, were also very good at destroying everything and burning it to the ground.

I may know a bit about everything pastry (desserts, cheese, fruits, etc.), but I don't know much about cured meats.  This local dried sausage called Fuet was MIND-BLOWINGLY delicious.  It looked like a salami, but the flavor was less salty and spicy, and tasted more balanced and rich.  Also, the particular one we ate had a soft texture that I don't normally find with cured meats.  Heaven.

One of the first things you learn about jamón is how to identify the good stuff.  Key words include: "Iberico" (refers to the breed), "bellota" (refers to a prized diet of acorns), and "pata negra" or black foot (indication of breed, on the left).  The one on the right is jamón serrano.

I could live here.
(Sean read this and thought I meant Barcelona, and then quickly
he realized I meant in the sausage shop.)

Beautiful beaches of Barcelona constructed for the 1992 Olympics

Our food tour guide led us to this wonderful pastry shop, Bubó, with some beautiful and delicious works of art.  There is clearly quite a bit of French influence on the food in northern Spain, 
especially in the area of pastry.  

This gianduja (hazelnut/chocolate), pistachio, green tea dessert wasn't too shabby either.

Graffiti near Parc Guell, Barcelona:
"The best translation between two languages is a kiss".
I'm pretty sure there's a double entendre in there as well.  Bonus points.

We ate a lot of olives while in Spain but these were by far the most delicious at Somorrostro in Barceloneta.  Apparently there are many ways to cure an olive, and the Spanish are known for a relatively quick procedure using lye and unripe, green olives (compared to the long fermentations of ripe olives, like the Greeks).  It makes for a nuttier and crisper olive.

Sean has tried to pique my interest in soccer in the past, but it's never gone very far.  Our tour of Camp Nou (where FC Barcelona plays) was spectacular.  It's the largest stadium in Europe, holding just under 100,000 people, and for someone who doesn't watch soccer, even I felt like I was walking on sacred ground. 

Concha Bay, San Sebastian -
It was too cold for a swim this time around.

Alcachofas de Tudela - Looking at these artichokes made me miss California

Sean was a complete pro during our cooking class

Cristina our Chef! We took a cooking class that was taught in one of San Sebastian's Gastronomy Societies. Traditionally these local clubs are kitchens with eating areas, where members can cook, host friends and hang out.  In the past, only men could be members since they needed a place to convene outside the home, where women usually ruled. Sean and I were fascinated by the idea of a place like this and peppered our guide and chef with questions until they couldn't take it anymore (and we couldn't eat anymore).

Patxineta: A cream-filled layered pastry covered in almonds and sugar.
I ate quite a few pastries and cookies during the week, and I've concluded
that if you are allergic to almonds, there is no way you'd survive Spain.

The delicious main dish from our cooking class: 
Hake (a local whitefish), clams, white asparagus, peas, and egg in salsa verde.  One concept that I 
loved learning about was the seasonality of seafood.  It's easy to think of fruits and vegetables
changing as the seasons do, but I never really thought about fish.  It was fascinating to listen to the locals reminisce about different seafoods associated with different holidays, or how one type of fish wouldn't show up until another one left.  

Zurriola Beach, San Sebastian -
If we see one more absolutely cute and joyous puppy on the beach, Sean is going to dog-nap it.

La Madame, San Sebastian - 
Yes, I ate raw tomatoes, and survived.

Pintxo Time!
I could have eaten these blistered and salted Padron peppers all night long. 

La Mallorquina, Madrid - Rosquilla (similar to a cake donut)
and a Florentine (not Spanish, but it looked so good). 

Puerta del Sol, Madrid - I love spring!

Yes, I did.  And, yes I'd do it again.

Maybe ending with Jamón Ruffles is in poor taste...

Cremeria Toscana in Barcelona -
Hands down, the best gelato I've ever had, although I'll always keep looking.
Great texture, intense flavors.  Fortunately neither of which was jamón. 

Lastly, a big Thank You to Ruthie, Liz and Yvonne for all the recommendations.  I hope I can repay the favor!

When life gives you Meyer lemons...

Daffodils in my mom's backyard.  Spring is here!

Classes kept me too busy to write much last month, but I'm determined to share a little bit about my recent trip back to California before spring break.  It was one of those whirlwind trips home, where you try to see everybody and do everything in less than a week.  Most of the time, the massive coordination effort ends in complete exhaustion, but I managed to fit in some great time with family, friends, and food. Although it wasn't perfectly sunny and 70 degrees, I was happy enough to escape the polar vortex and enjoy the much needed rain that drought-stricken California needs.

Meyer Lemons are thought to be a hybrid between a regular lemon and mandarin or regular orange

One of my stops was with my friend Liz who has a Meyer lemon tree in her front yard.  This prized lemon variety is thin-skinned, sweet, and incredibly fragrant.  Her tree was bearing a ton of fruit, so we made a few test batches of lemon pudding cakes.  No clear cake winner, but fortunately I left with a lot of lemons!  My usual go-to recipe when I have wonderful lemons on hand is lemon curd, but I didn't want to end up with extra egg whites.  Then I thought about cookies, but they tend to rely on zest only, and I didn't want a bunch of naked lemons.  Finally I remembered a dessert I saw on youtube a long time ago that I've always wanted to try: Lemon Posset.

Posset is a British drink made of spiced milk coagulated with ale or wine (don't be scared, just keep reading), and has roots back to medieval times (wiki).  The modern dessert is made with heavy cream that's sweetened with sugar and thickened with lemon juice.  Similar to fresh cheeses like ricotta, heat and acid are used to gently coagulate the cream.  After chilling for a few hours, the creamy custard sets up like a cross between panna cotta and pudding, but without eggs, gelatin, or cornstarch.  To say it's a magical transformation is an understatement.  I found a recipe from Bon Appetit that was simple and looked delicious.  I've adapted it slightly to scale the servings down, focus on Meyer lemons, and bring out more flavor using zest.

Meyer Lemon Posset
Serves 2
Adapted from Bon Appetit

Ingredients:
3/4 cup heavy cream [avoid using ultra-pasteurized]
1/4 cup sugar
Zest of 1 lemon

1 tablespoon + 2 teaspoons Meyer lemon juice (about 1 large lemon)

If you don't have Meyer lemons, you can use regular fresh lemon juice
and substitute in 1 teaspoon of fresh orange juice, or mix lemon and
lime juice like the original Bon Appetit recipe.

Directions:
1. Pour cream and sugar into small saucepan.  Zest lemon directly into pot with cream and sugar.
2. Move saucepan to stove, and heat cream until it reaches a gentle simmer.  Maintain a gentle simmer and continue to cook for three minutes while stirring continuously with a spatula.  Make sure to scrape the bottom of the pot so nothing burns.
3. After three minutes, remove the pot from the heat, and add the lemon juice.  Stir until fully incorporated.  You'll notice the cream thicken to the consistency of a thin pudding.

4.  For a smoother custard, strain out the zest.  Then allow the posset to cool for ~10 minutes.

You don't need to strain the zest,
 but it will have a much smoother texture if you do.

5.  After cooling, pour posset in to individual serving glasses or dishes, if you have them.  Alternatively, you can pour it into a large container and scoop to serve.  Allow the posset to thicken for at least 4 hours, before serving.

If you'd like to make the lemon chips, 
see update below.

Verdict:  This is so simple, there is no reason NOT to make this.  I've tried to focus on the Meyer lemon flavor, but you could add vanilla extract, or berries, especially if you only have regular lemons.  After a few times, you could also experiment with the amount of lemon juice for a harder or softer set custard.  You may also get away with substituting in a little milk, but this won't work without some cream.

When life gives you Meyer lemons make Meyer lemon posset... I know, not as catchy as the original, but it's definitely better than lemonade.

UPDATE: If you are good with a sharp serrated knife or a mandolin, you can easily make lemon chips.  These are a nice flavor and texture contrast to the possets: slightly bitter and crispy (or chewy).

Note: These can take awhile to dry in the oven.  So if you find you need to move on to something else, just turn your oven off and leave the chips to dry overnight.  Check in the morning and continue to bake if needed. 

Directions:

1. Slice 1 lemon as thinly as possible while still slicing evenly, and add to a small saucepan with 1 cup of sugar and 1 cup of water.  

2. Gently bring to a boil over medium low heat.  Once the syrup begins to boil, lower your heat to a simmer and allow lemon slices to cook gently for 5 minutes.  Turn off the heat and allow slices to cool for ~5 minutes.  

3. Remove slices from syrup and drain using a colander or sieve (not shown).  Place slices in a single layer on a silicone baking mat (parchment paper should work if your slices are well drained).  

4. Place mat, or paper, with slices on a baking sheet and place in a 200F oven to dry for 2.5-3.5 hours.  After about 1.5-2 hours peel off the chips, and flip them over to completely dry them.  If you have a convection setting this will take about 1 hour (flip after 45 minutes).

5.  To test if they are done, remove a chip and allow it cool to room temperature to test the finished texture (if you try and eat it while it is warm, it will always be chewy).  I like them mostly crispy with a little chew.