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From this book's first paragraph, where Andrews
lists typical Catalan ingredients--anchovies, grilled onions,
foie gras, figs drizzled with anisette--to the book's last recipe--Roast
Lamb with Twelve Heads of Garlic, you will be salivating, your
fingers itching to chop, peel, toss, and taste.
This cuisines Spanish, writes Andrews, by virtue of being prepared
and consumed in Spain, but is not based in Spain's primarily Castilian
culture. (It's a cuisine, by the way, because it is more than
just a collection of regional dishes. Andrews points our the Catalan
cooking is a complex and sophisticated system of recipes and techniques,
first codified as early as the fourteenth century.) This cuisine
was born of Roman settlers and later influenced by invading Moors
and still later by French and Italian merchants. But like any
regional cuisines, the character of Catalan cuisine comes from
the selection of local ingredients are used in distinct, and to
our taste buds, surprising ways--nuts thicken a sauce, vegetables
appear in desserts, fruit in salads, pork sausage is served with
lemon juice and sugar, fried eggplant is dipped in honey.
But even without access to a brace of freshly dressed rabbits
or a wood-burning brick oven, the dishes are an intriguing exploration
of flavors for the home cook. The recipes are as simple as toasted
bread rubbed with tomato, oil, and salt, or as complex as a casserole
of game birds, meatballs, potatoes, dressed with garlic sauce
(and charmingly called es nin, the nest). Andrews describes these
surprising flavors and dishes as a cuisine with "top spin."
We began with Allioli amb Ous is an Alioli (Alioli with Eggs),
a version of the garlic mayonnaise found all through the Mediterranean.
The garlic is whipped into a smooth sauce with whole eggs and
olive oil in a food processor. The taste, as Andrews describes
it, is "emphatic". And the flavor is decidedly so; werewolves
will steer clear of your house, along with colds and heart disease,
if folk remedies are true. But this recipe was written before
raw eggs presented the danger of salmonella; so use it carefully,
on guests with strong constitutions.
We used it to great effect in Patates amb Allioli, scalloped
potatoes with allioli. The potatoes are peeled, sliced and boiled
until soft--just 10 to 15 minutes--then layered with alioli sauce
and baked. The eggs in the sauce make a puffy brown crust and
the aroma of mellowing garlic carries throughout the dish and
through the house. The dish is satisfying without being overly
rich. The leftovers were good in a potato omelet the next day,
which is not a traditional preparation, but one can easily imagine
a thrifty Catalan housewife preparing it for lunch the next day.
Trempo is a Majorcan salad of thinly sliced onions, tomatoes,
and peppers with the unusual addition of apples or pears. The
salad is dressed with olive oil and salt, and left to sit and
blend, creating a fresh play of sweet and bite in each mouthful.
The Catalan coastline introduces seafood to the cuisine's repertoire.
Dishes range from simple sautés of garlic and parsley to totally
unique dish of squid stuffed with ground pork and dressed with
a savory chocolate sauce. We tried the more prosaic Calamari Saltejats
amb All i Julivert, Squid Stuffed with Garlic and Parsley. A simple
dish, made in Catalan with squid or octopus no more than an inch
long, the squid is sautéed in a hot pan scattered with coarse
salt, then the garlic and parsley is tossed in and the dish served.
As with most simple dishes, ingredients and technique are paramount,
and perhaps ours weren't up to scratch. The dish was good, but
could have used more punch.
Cotzas a la Marinara, Algherese Mussels Sailor-Style, are cooked
with vinegar and anchovies, a common sauce in ancient Rome. The
mussels are steamed with garlic, parsley, basil, and white wine
along with the vinegars and anchovies. After only a few moments
on the stove the mussels are bright and briny.
Cooking Rostit de Festa Major, Holiday Roast Chicken was a real
adventure. In Catalan, this chicken is the traditional dish for
each town's saint's day festival, and is usually served with cava,
champagne. Each household brings their casserole to the local
bakery's oven and Andrews recalls seeing phalanxes of these casseroles
filled with succulent chicken. We proceeded with our decidedly
unromantic electric oven and a glazed, cast-iron pot. First we
browned the chicken pieces on the stove-top with onions and garlic,
then added a bay leaf, a cinnamon stick, salt and pepper, and
one cup of cognac. And that's where the adventure began.
The cognac heated to the point of combustion and the oven door
flew open, lames leapt out into the kitchen and around the casserole.
We had our own festival excitement and thanked our own saint for
saving the house from fire. But in the end, the chicken was not
burnt and delicious. Next time we'll leave the oven door slightly
ajar.
We didn't try any of the desserts for this review, but they have
a medieval, mysterious quality that we will return to. Fried Almond-Milk
Pudding, Mint and Cream Cheese Tart, and Fig Mousse with Walnuts
sound like food for infants and troubadours.
With his extensive research, Andrews has created a trip through
time and taste.
© 2000 Claudia Kousoulas and Sandy Tallant
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