Anniversary Paella

In the restaurant business, we celebrate our personal milestones on days off. Work days are for helping others celebrate their milestones. I wish it weren't so, but it is the nature of my occupation. This past Sunday was the day closest to our actual anniversary and to celebrate we invited a dozen or fourteen friends over for tapas, paella, and a case of Tempranillo, which our friends, who are not shy about wine, promptly emptied!



Paella Mixta

We really had a beautiful day and I kicked the hardwood fire off about ten minutes to four in the fire pit out on our patio. At 4:30, I started the chicken, which was followed by the chorizos, the tiny Salvadoran ones called tuzas (gophers), and my mirepoix of red peppers, onions, and hard Spanish chorizo. After this, into the pan with a spoonful of pimentón and my picada (parsley and garlic). Then a gallon of mixed stock (chicken, pork, mussel, and saffron), right up to the bottom of the handle rivets.

Once the stock came to a boil, a kilo and a half of rice went into the pan at 5:00 and was done by 5:25 or so. After 15 minutes of resting under a couple of towels, we all dug in, scraping big hunks of the crunchy socarrat off the bottom of the paellera.

Rear to Front: Chicken Wings, Salvadoran Chorizos, Red Prawns, Mussels

I thought I had lucked out and got some amazing red prawns. They sure look good, but their texture was pasty and the flavor very fishy. Not again for me. They are a new product that I was checking out for my seafood company. No bueno.



Figs, Goat Cheese, Jamón

For starters for our guests while I was out back tending the fire and the paellera, I made two tapas: these halved figs topped with local goat cheese and wrapped in ham. And I threw together some sautéed onions and red peppers from the garden with some thyme and eggs for a tortilla. Finally, as Spaniards will often do for a quick tapa, we raided the pantry for some marinated olives, peppers, and lupini.

Mixed Olives, Peppers, and Lupini



Red Pepper and Onion Tortilla

For wine, I picked a really smooth Tinta de Toro crianza from Finca Sobreño. It's a ripe Tempranillo that tastes of darker fruit, blackberries and cassis, without a lot of aggressive wood and with tame tannins. A great party wine.

A Nice Tempranillo (Tinta de Toro)

Of Artichokes and Red Snapper

Yesterday was a gorgeous fall day with temperatures just into the 70s. We took advantage of the late afternoon weather to sit out on the patio and have a glass of Côtes de Gascogne Blanc, before heading inside. After Carter got home, I roasted red snapper topped with artichoke pesto for dinner and despite his protests, Carter wolfed down two huge pieces.

Red Snapper with Artichoke Pesto, Roasted Vegetables, and Saffron Aïoli

Enjoying a Glass of Côtes de Gascogne Blanc Before Dinner

Artichoke Pesto; Corno di Toro Peppers

After relaxing out on the patio, I threw together a quick artichoke pesto by spinning up artichokes, garlic, pine nuts, grated pecorino romano cheese, and extra virgin olive oil in the food processor. I left it pretty thick because I wanted to top the fish with it.

To a big roasting pan, I added a big handful of grape tomatoes, a couple scoops of olives with lupini beans, rings of Corno di Toro peppers from our garden, 3 or 4 cloves of garlic in chunks, some rosemary, and a splash of extra virgin olive oil. I moved all this to the sides of the roasting pan and put four nice pieces of red snapper in the middle of the pan. I spread artichoke pesto on top of the fish and into a very hot oven it went until the fish was cooked, about 20 minutes. I cranked up the broiler just to brown the top of the artichoke crust.

I served the fish sitting on top of a scoop of the roasted vegetables, with a dab of aïoli and a sprig of rosemary for garnish.

Meh. Give me Willamette Pinot Please.

Against my better judgment, I thought we would give California Pinot one more chance. And once again, I should have known better. There is nothing wrong with this Pinot and a lot of people will really love its big plush fruit and high alcohol, but for me, there was too much fruit, too much alcohol, and not enough acid. Bummer.

Christmas Feast

Ann decided that we should do a low-key Christmas Day, so she invited Tom and Ann over for movies and we munched on a lot of salame and cheese. Although Ann says I grumbled about watching Love Actually for the umpteenth time, I think I was a good sport about watching it yet again. I fall neither into the lover nor the hater category. I think there are parts of the screenplay that are very good and there are parts that are equally ridiculous. And so it is not on my list of must-see-again flicks.

I made a pork and bacon terrine which you see in the top middle of this photo. Also we had venison summer sausage, chorizo picante, two quasi-local cheeses: a Valençay clone (the white goat cheese) and Grayson (the washed rind cheese with the golden paste). Also, a 5-year old Gouda that is fantastic.

We love Olympic Provisions salame (to my knowledge, they make the best salame in the US) and we got three of our favorites: Loukanika, Nola, and Salchichón. Everyone loves Salchichón; it is the best salame that OP makes: the spicing is incredible. And naturally, it was the first to go.

My Ann baked two loaves of her fabulous bread on which we spread this little crock of nduja, that I got from La Quercia in Iowa, a leader of the American cured meat renaissance. I'm tasting as much nduja as possible, gearing up to cure my own. This, I am sad to say, is not a great effort, being made from prosciutto scraps and not raw meat. It takes like slightly stale spicy ham salad. Not what I hoped for.



Olives, Peppers, and Lupini

I have found a marinated olive mix that contains lupini, often called lupini/lupine beans in English. I really enjoy them and tried making them once. They are the seed of the beautiful lupines that you see growing roadside all over Europe. The raw seeds contain toxic alkaloids that are leeched out of the beans via continual soaking in many changes of salted water over an extended time, just like curing olives. And then they have to be peeled like favas. Can you say giant pain in the ass? I knew you could. Buy them already prepared; too labor-intensive to do yourself.