pa?

One of the enduring oddities of the british upper classes is their insistence on sending their pre adolescent children to instiutions which, to the rest of the world resemble correctional facilities. A yet odder practice is that of the lower middle classes virtually bankrupting themselves to do the same. At the age of 11 I found myself the privileged recipient of such an education, one of the great features of the English public school is the English school dinner. Being pre pubescent and largely unobserved by adults our diet (contrary to what Ms Rowling would have you think) was somewhat unorthodox. Amongst the crumpets slathered in butter and marmite, cheese and jam sandwiches and the “tuck” secretly stashed in various bedside hidey holes one delicacy remains clear in my memory. Composed entirely of condiments available at every meal the ketchup sandwich was a mainstay of our diets.A traumatic incident early in my academic carreer had seen me withness the “kiev” being injected into the “chicken” with a syringe, necessitating that at least once a week, my main course be constructed from the condiment table.

20 years later, having strayed from the “sensible” middle class career path of my dorm-mates I find myself living in a small catalan town and more specifically sitting in a small Catlan bar. But some things haven’t changed. The combination of starch and sweet still accompanies every meal, albeit in a slightly more grown up fashion. The Catalans love their Pa amb tomaquet and there is none of the associated “food guilt” that one feels when secretly smearing Heinz on mother’s pride; this is gourmet comfort food and it even shares the colours of the flag of this Mediterranean nation.

Like all such simple foods the dish is entirely reliant on its ingredients; the bread has to be fresh, and crusty. No self respecting bar owner would pass off day old bread (anyway it finds a higher purpose in Catalonia’s rich stews). Flautas, baguettes as thin as a broom handle, provide the perfect crunch to fluff ratio when lightly toasted. Next they are rubbed with local garlic and anointed with fruity olive oil, preferably alberquina olive oil from the tiny, flavor packed fruit of local vineyards (which often accompany any drink order as a complementary bar snack). The piece de resistance is, of course, the tomato. A special type of tomato is used, bred to impart all of its flavor without undue moisture. These rubbing tomatoes are sliced In half and kept, face down, in a glazed earthenware dish where they serve for several rounds of bread before passing on to the second life of all “past-perfect” produce, the cassola (stew pot). The preparation provides a healthy, and tasty basis for the entrepa which make up a typical breakfast but never a lunch, grabbing a sandwich on the go says terrible things about one’s priorities, work is important. The Catalans pride themselves on leading the Spanish economy but just as much value is placed on a sense of superior aloofness, and on lunch.

Variations exist but to eat them without first sampling the original is like getting your impression of Aretha Franklin via American Idol. Fernan Arria riffs on the theme with more success than most, deconstructing the dish and layering it in a shot glass. A memorable meal with a Catalan friend after a night out on the cava saw him reflecting soulfully over a slice of pizza “this is just like pa amb tomquet really, except there’s lots of other nonsense on top” when reminded of this later he proceeded to defend his claim “the bread’s not as good either”.

The Catlans, despite their world leading role in many respects. Have not spread their cusiine with the colonizing fervor of the Italians, or the aspirational value-tied fast food of the US. Thus while all over the world people enjoy hamburgers, pizza and pasta slathered in tomato sauce the simple preparation of bread and tomato has not found its way far from the ancient nation of the Catalans. Even in Madrid, bread is served plain or perhaps with oil. The catlans of course, would tell us that this is because nowhere else are the tomatoes as flavourfull, the bread as crunchy and light, the garlic so pungent and the oil so fruity – they might be right it’s certainly better than Heinz on sliced white.

ingredients

“Those sons of bitches in Reus trademarked it before we even thought about it”, I was a little taken aback by the language which issued forth from the, lady old enough to be my grandmother and as wrinkled as the prunes in jars behind her, she ran a small grocers in Reus and clearly felt that the subject of menjablanc (blancmange to you and me) is obviously not one to be taken lightly. “It was invented in Tarragona, where else? We have the best almonds. Here let me give you the recipe”. Catalan Menja blanc is indeed a delicacy worth getting passionate about; like a cross between a flan and a rice pudding it is made from almond and rice flours along with cinnamon and lemon peel. I know this because, despite her willingness to sell me a packet of “menjablanc de Reus” powder, the shopkeeper insisted on furnishing me with the recipe. By chance the recipe used almond paste, from Tarragona.

The passion that the people of Catalonia feel for their local cuisine is exceptional, even within Spain’s food centric culture. The cuisine of Catalonia is distinct from the rest of the Iberian peninsula and relies heavily on local, seasonal ingredients. Unlike the rest of the Mediterranean it has yet to be discovered by the wider culinary world. If Italy is about Pasta with tomato sauce, Spain about rice with seafood Catalonia is about bread with tomatoes and olive oil. Pa amb tomaquet is the side dish served alongside every Catalan meal. Again it relies on a very simple elaboration, a thin crusty flauta (flute, a baguette style loaf) rubbed with a special type of tomato and doused in local olive oil and sprinkled with sea salt. Pair this with some grilled sardines, a glass of cava and a dessert of miel I mato (curd cheese and honey) and you can dine exquisitely without having consumed anything you couldn’t have seen within a one hour drive.

Catalonia is a region with a wide variety of landscapes and climates. From the Pyrenees to the beaches all of these contribute to an equally varied cuisine. Mar I montanya dishes are cornerstones of Catalan cooking; the mountains give us their thick stews and braises, cooked for hours with a base of sofregit (long cooked onions and tomatoes) and including beef alongside cuttlefish, wildfowl and even cod tripe. Meanwhile the lighter cuisine of the coastal regions offers an alternative which is equally delicious; fideus resemble paella but in place of rice (which does not grow in the region) short sections of pasta noodles are used along with squid ink and aliolli “the Ghenghis Khan of the Catalan Cusine” (Josep Pla) a ferociously garlicky mayonnaise which, when made traditionally forgoes eggs in favour of impeccable technique on the part of the chef.

Alongside the savoury delights of local produce many wonderful pastries and desserts are on offer; local nuts have to be tasted to be believed. The almonds from around Tarragona really are the best in the world, roasted simply in their skins they are larger, flatter and simply more redolent of the essence of almond than those I have eaten anywhere else in the world. Pinyols and avellanas (pine nuts and hazelnuts) are also to be found in abundance locally. These are often incorporated in delicious desserts, alongside the menjablanc mentioned above one can find panellets pine nut and potato based cookies which are much more delicious than they sound. The local Hazelnuts (alongside finding their way into the latest Starbucks latte) are incorporated into a delicious nougat.

Although hard to come by Catalan restaurants can be found around the world, better yet invest in a trip to Barcelona (or, I feel the weight of the shopkeeper’s civic pride bearing down on me here, Tarragona). See the sights and eat the food. You could even try to make some at home but don’t whatever you do, use inferior ingredients, it won’t taste the same and you’ll incur the wrath of Catalan grandmothers.