Andalusian Discoveries

Plaza Rib Rambla, medieval Granada'a main square

Kaarina 

Mike and I were sipping a glass of Rioja at an outdoor cafe across from our hotel in Granada’s ancient Plaza Bib Rambla when our waitress surprised us, placing a slate of mysterious golden fritters on our table. We hadn’t ordered food but tucked right in, happy that we had stumbled on a traditional taverna like El Laurel, which still serves a complimentary tapa with a drink, a custom that is quickly vanishing across much of Spain. That night was our introduction to Berenjenas con Miel Cana — an Andalusian specialty that has its roots in southern Spain’s 700-year Moorish history. Deep fried aubergine, crispy on the outside, creamy on the inside and drizzled with a dark brown cane honey. Eggplant has never tasted so good. From the first bite it was clear that this was going home with me to our next Epitourist lunch.

Deep fried eggplant drizzled with cane honey

Before I left on my October tour of Spain’s major Moorish sights, the Epitourists had agreed that we would cook an Andalusian feast on my return. So I was on a mission to find dishes I had never tried before but could take home and cook in my own kitchen.

Ronda - Puente Nuevo was built almost 300 years ago

I found the second dish for our menu in Ronda, the stunningly beautiful Andalusian White Hill Town that straddles a deep 390-foot gorge. Restaurante Las Maravillas’ tapas menu translated Carrillada as “braised pork cheeks.” Who knew the tenderest, tastiest cut from a pig fits into the palm of your hand? I pledged, on my return to find pork cheeks (aka jowls) in Toronto. (Order ahead from Sanagan’s Meat Locker / in Kensington Market.) I used a Nigel Slater’s Pigs Cheek recipe from the Guardian  with good success.

Pork cheeks and company!

Meanwhile, my Epitourist mates were researching Andalusian cooking online. Diane found a stew using spinach and chickpeas, ingredients that — like aubergines — were brought to Spain by the Moors. She mentioned the dish in an email, and that evening I spied Espinacas con Garbanzos on the menu at what had already become our favourite tapas bar in Sevilla: Las Teresas, a three-minute stroll from our hotel through narrow “kissing streets” of medieval Barrio Santa Cruz. 

Sevilla's Kissing Street and Las Teresas

Las Teresas’ Espinacas con Garbanzos was quite good, of course, but paled in comparison to the delightful dish Diane meticulously constructed in my kitchen in Toronto and served promptly as soon as the spinach was cooked.

Diane's Espinacas con Garbanzos

Diane

My research led me to the Hola Foodie site and a dish described as ‘bueno, bonito y barato’, which translates into ‘good, beautiful and cheap.’ Like many other peasant recipes from southern Spain, chickpeas and spinach are a fine example of how to make the most of simple and humble ingredients. Andalusian Chickpeas and Spinach somewhat surprised me as I don't quickly connect southern Spain with either of the main ingredients. Plain food, but so delicious when seasoned with the cumin, garlic, smoked paprika and cayenne pepper. The recipe noted frozen spinach was acceptable, but fresh was definitely more appealing.