Some Favorite Tapas

A friend's birthday party this week was a celebration not only of his 75 years, but of the leisurely way of eating in Spain. Tapas--small portions of food served with drinks--are well-known throughout the world now. There are hundreds of varieties of tapas, in which small portions of fish, meat, vegetables, and potatoes are combined in interesting and tasteful ways, and served in distinctive individual tapas dishes along with an alcoholic beverage. The days of a no-charge tapa accompanying your order of wine or beer are mostly gone, but all bars still display a tray of eight or ten, or more, different tapas selections throughout the day. You specify your choice and they ladle it into a distinctive individual tapas dish, pop it in the microwave, and then serve it to you with just a fork and a slice or two of a good baguette--all for a single euro. If you are still hungry after a tapa, you simply have a second one. Foreigners, especially, often eat lunch this way.

Our birthday party followed the tapas tradition but served raciones, which are larger platters of the same types of food that make tapas. A group of Spaniards might order a racion for the table and each just dip into that plate with their own fork. Our group of 20 were seated at regular dining tables, each with a formal place setting of knife, fork, and dinner plate, and the plates of raciones were passed along the table so all could help themselves.

Our progressive tapas dinner began with ensalada mixta, mixed green salad, with lettuce, tomatoes, onion, peppers, and olives. An ensalada mixta often serves as a first course to a normal Spanish dinner; you dress it yourself from the olive oil and vinegar, salt and pepper condiment set that invariably accompanies it. This was slightly different in that pieces of Spanish tortilla were served along side. I've previously written about my love affair with Spanish tortillas, and I enjoyed this little extra touch.

Just as I expected the main course to be served, the next racion appeared. And then another and another, in successive installments. As soon as we had passed and finished one plate, and washed it down with copious copas (glasses) of vino tinto (red wine) and agua (water), out would come another dish. In addition to salad and tortilla, we ate boquerones fritos, delicious fried anchovies, with papas fritas (French fries); patatas pobres, thinly sliced potatoes, slow fried with garlic; habas (lima beans) with bits of jamón serrano; a montadito, literally, something mounted on bread--this was a miniature sandwich of pork tenderloin), and pieces of pollo, chicken, marinated in something wonderful. I am sure there were a couple other courses, but this was several days ago and there were those copious copas. After three hours at the table with good food, good wine, and good conversation, there was a delicious birthday cake.

Spanish Tortilla

We've been traveling by car, and that means that I have been eating tortilla. A Spanish tortilla is nothing like a Mexican one. It's often translated as "omelet," but that's not right, either. True, tortilla española does need four or five eggs, and it's cooked in a round skillet on top of the stove. But an omelet is light; a tortilla is solid. That's because, in addition to four or five eggs, it also has four or five potatoes. The basic recipe is to sauté the potatoes (raw, unless you have leftovers) in olive oil, but don't let them brown, maybe add a little onion, then add the beaten eggs, and cook very, very slowly until solid. Flip over to brown the top, which then becomes the bottom. Cool, cut in pieces as you would a pie, and serve.

Every cafetería and bar along a highway--probably every cafetería and bar in Spain--has tortilla in its glass case displaying various tapas and snacks. If you don't see it, ask. And if they don't have it, it's probably because you got there too late. It's the ideal thing to eat with the café or agua con gas or even a small glass of wine (if you are not the driver) on a short stop during a long trip.

There are as many recipes for tortilla in Spain as there are for meatloaf in the U.S., and almost as many ways of serving it. You may get a wedge measuring anywhere between an inch or three at the circumference. Last week I got two one-inch wedges, laid tip-to-tip on the small tapas plate. The height of these two pieces was shallow--only about an inch--but on the same trip, different restaurant, I got a gigantic piece that was two inches or more in height, and rather difficult to eat with the accompanying cocktail fork. You almost always get two or three slices of baguette to accompany your little plate, and once I even got a lovely little garnish of tomato.

Janet Mendel, an American who has written the book (in fact, more than one) on Cooking in Spain, makes it sound difficult to cook this humble but delicious treat, and it is true that it can be tricky. I've done it a few times at home, but I much prefer to take tortilla as a staple almost every time I'm traveling, and often when I just go out for tapas. It's always a little bit different. But it's almost always excellent.