Culinary Autonomy

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TCulinary

The Basques take their food seriously.Veryseriously. I know this, in theory. But the

reality still takes me by surprise my first

morning in San Sebastin, when the crois-

sant I order at apastelera behind the Hotelde Londres y de Inglaterra arrives with a

filigreed silver knife and fork. Everything

else about this pastry counter seems relaxed

locals wearing jeans chat casually in

Basque, a complex language quite unlike

Spanish, French or even Catalan that is,

until the habitus primly slice their baked

confections with utmost etiquette. I follow

suit, adopting the attitude when in Rome.

And so begins my gastronomic foray into

Spains Basque region, where, apparently, I

am to experience its traditional tuna stews,

avant-garde appetizers, the Basques famous

finger food known aspintxos and even its

croissants, with cutlery.

The epicentre of Basque cuisine and

capital of Guipzcoa province is an ideallocale to commence such an epicurean jour-

ney. Just 600 km northwest of Barcelona and

half an hour by train from the French

border, with a population of only 180,000,

the quietly aristocratic town of San

Sebastin is widely considered the cultural

hub of the Basque region. Popular regional

events include the citys celebrated jazz and

film festivals, held each year in July and

September, respectively, and the Running of

the Bulls in nearby Pamplona. Bilbaos extra-

ordinary Guggenheim Museum is just a

Basque Renaissance: A new

wave of ground-breaking

Spanish cuisine, including

the Basque variation of

tapas known aspintxos,

dominates the restaurants

and bars of San Sebastin.


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short drive away. The coastline is dotted

with some of Europes finest surf beaches,

including Zarautz and San Sebastins Playa

de la Zurriola. Long a political hotspot and

stronghold of the Basque separatist move-ment, the region has, nonetheless, always

been a favourite tourist destination. And its

not hard to see why: Even in the height of

summer, the days are cool, providing a

welcome escape for vacationing Spaniards

anxious to escape the southern heat.

But perhaps most significant, San Seb-

astin also boasts some of Spains most

renowned cuisine from the likes of Restau-

rante Arzak and Martin Berasategui and the

most Michelin-starred restaurants per capita

in Europe (only central Paris can claim a sim-

ilar density). Obviously, cooking and eating

well are an intrinsic part of the culture here,

where even the neighbourhood cafs and

bars offer traditional or elaborately con-

cocted New Basque cuisine. Yet the regionknown asPas Vasco, or Basque Country, is

one of the best-kept secrets among gas-

tronomes: a culinary tour de force on par with

the cuisines of Tuscany and Provence that is

famous throughout Europe for its straight-

forward, simple dishes, prepared using the

freshest local ingredients. Itspintxos, the

Basque tapas, in particular, are among the

most innovative and exquisite appetizers in

all of Spain. As Basque restaurateur Teresa

Barrenechea writes in her authoritative tome

on the cuisine of her homeland, The Basque

Table, I do not know of any other place in

the world where cooking is as revered an art

and as dominant in the national conscious-

ness, as it is in the Spanish Basque Country.

It is one of the most important and distinc-tive traits of our culture.

It has been almost two decades since I first

visited San Sebastin and this northeastern

pocket of Spain, as a teenager backpacking

across Europe. Back then, I lived mainly on

baguettes, cheese and tomatoes and the rare

bottle of wine; home base was an expansive

youth hostel off Avenida de Madrid. I didnt

speak a word of Spanish or French my

impressions of Spain were based largely on

the bullfight aficionados of Hemingways

The Sun Also Rises. So, too, my view of San

Heinz Hebeisen W E S T W O R L D >> S P R I N G 2 0 0 7 61

marmitako (tuna stew)

ingredients:

1 kilogram fresh tuna

1 litre water

100 millilitres olive oil

2 onions, peeled and minced

6 green peppers, peeled and

minced

2 kg (4 lbs, 6 oz) potatoes

4 cloves garlic, minced

4 pimentos choriceros or tomatoes

250 ml fish stock and/or txakol,

white wine or cider

salt and pepper to taste

Autonomy

The quickest routeto understanding Basque

Country culture is through aSan Sebastin kitchen

by Jennifer Patterson

preparation:

Clean the tuna. For the fumet, or fish broth,

place the skins and bones of the fish in a saucepan,

cover with water and bring to a boil. In a casserole,

heat the olive oil, add the peppers and onion and

saut until the onion is translucent. Then, add thepotatoes (cracked in cubes) and garlic to the

vegetables and saut briefly.

Cut the tuna in cubes, season with salt and

pepper and set aside.

Add the tomatoes and/or the pimentos

choriceros to the casserole, pour in 250 ml of the

fumet, the wine and some water if necessary to

cover, mix well and bring to boil over medium heat,

stirring now and then. Reduce heat and simmer

about 20 minutes or until the potatoes are tender.

Add the tuna cubes and season to taste.

Cook gently 3 to 4 minutes until tuna is opaque.

Remove from heat and let stew settle for a few

minutes before serving. Serves eight.


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Sebastin was quintessential Hemingway: an

expats seaside holiday in Europe (except I

was Jake Barnes the journalist and Lady Brett

rolled into one). And upon my early summer

return to the Basque resort town, it appears,

at least superficially, largely as I remember

except for a few new architectural monu-

ments, most notably the Kursaal Convention

Centre (an illuminated Rubiks cube above

the surf beach of Playa de la Zurriola) and a

stadium where the youth hostel once stood.

But this time, my experience promises to be

altogether different. I am on assignment, forone. My mission: to attend cooking school at

one of San Sebastins Popular Gastronomic

Societies (until recently the exclusive domain

of men) and concoct a traditional Basque

meal, sample some of the best local cuisine

the city has to offer and, hopefully learn a lit-

tle more about this enigmatic corner of Spain.

I check into the elegant four-star belle-

poque hotel overlooking Playa de La Concha,

a kilometre-and-a-half-long crescent of

cream-coloured sand. Below the Hotel de

Londres y de Inglaterra, the seaside prom-

enade is lined with ornate lampposts andwhite balustrades, where well-to-do families

circulate each evening after spending the day

sunbathing or lazing beneath beach umbrel-

las. The ritual promenade hasnt changed

much since the belle poque, late 19th-century

Europes beautiful era, when the Basque-

land resorts of Biarritz and San Sebastin first

became popular among wealthy Europeans.

Halfway along Paseo de La Concha is Bat-

apln, a modern beach bar with palm trees

and throbbing techno music where fashion-

able young Basques lounge in white wicker

chairs. The beach at this hour is empty savefor a few lovebirds strolling by moonlight.

On the terrace, I sip a lemony cocktail and

admire undisturbed the panoramic view of

La Concha Bay, its scallop shape spanning

the smooth mound of Monte Igueldo to

Monte Urgull and its illuminated monu-

ment of Christ, the bays golden city lights a

sparkling ocean necklace. The mist-laden air

is fresh and cool a world away from the

heat and intensity of Barcelona or Madrid.

Luis Mokoroa,director of the CofradaVasca de Gastronoma, greets me the next dayat the door of the gastronomic societys

headquarters, a rustic two-storey clubhouse

perched above San Sebastins old town on

the wooded slopes of Monte Urgull. My

three-hour cooking lesson is scheduled at

the height of the tuna season off the

Cantabrian coast, and Mokoroa suggests we

prepare a traditional main course: a rich

tunafish stew called marmitako that is even

more delicious in summer when the tuna

feed voraciously. Once a simple Basque fish-

ermans dish named for the marmita, or

stewpot, it is cooked in, marmitako was orig-

inally created from ingredients that could be

easily taken to sea. These days, it is widely

appreciated throughout Spain.

Every port has its own version of mar-

mitako, says Mokoroa, a barrel-chested man

with a booming voice. In Vizcaya, they like

to use choricero (a sweet, dried red pepper

used to make chorizo); in Guipzcoa, we pre-

fer more tomatoes. There are small differ-

ences, but basically its made with potatoes,

onions and green peppers, tomatoes orchoricero and tuna.

I tie on my apron and get chopping and

peeling, taking notes at every opportunity,

like a student of Dona Flors Cooking School

of Savour and Art. Mokoroa sets the skins

and bones of the tuna in a pot of water on

the stove and brings it to a boil. This fumet,

or fish broth, will later be added to the stew

to cook the potatoes.

For dessert, Mokoroa proposespantxineta,

an almond custard pie and typical San Sebas-

tin dessert. We prepare it first so it can bake

in the oven as we prepare the main course.The puff pastry is complicated to make, and

many cooks buy it ready-made from a pastry

shop. But Mokoroa is from the old school. He

rolls the pastry made of flour, butter and a

bit of sugar out on a floured board, from the

middle to the edges so the dough cant curl

back on the wooden rolling pin. We then

make the cream for the pastry, heating all but

one cup of the milk with a cinnamon stick.

Stirring with a whisk, we let the milk boil,

strain it to remove the cinnamon, then sepa-

rate the eggs, add flour and sugar to the yolks

and add the egg mixture to the milk and stir.Elaborate desserts and pastries were not

introduced to the Basque region until the

19th century, Mokoroa tells me. Prior to that,

a typical Basque dessert might have been

arroz con leche (rice pudding), leche frita (fried

milk) or sweetened breads. The tradition of

pastry making was largely a Swiss import;

true Basque desserts are rich and custardy,

composed of what is commonly found in

most kitchens: eggs, milk and sugar.

Of course, part of the Basque reputation

for good food comes from the gastronomic

(1) Jorge Tutor, (2&3) Heinz Hebeisen, (4,5&6) Toya Legido, (7) Matas Costa, (8) Nor iko Lida W E S T W O R L D >> S P R I N G 2 0 0 7 63

pre-cook instructionshomework: The Basque History of the World,Mark Kurlansky (Vintage Canada, 2001; $34).

Life and Food in the Basque Country, Maria

Jos Sevilla (New Amsterdam Books, 1998;

$20.95). The Basque Table,Teresa Bar-

renechea with Mary Goodbody (Harvard

Common Press, 2006; $21.95)

getting there: The small airport nearSan Sebastin offers regular flights to and

from most major cities in Spain. Charter

flights from elsewhere in Europe may alsobe available. Train or bus connections to

Barcelona, Madrid and Paris are frequent.

the urban gourmet: A Taste of Spainsfour-day The Basque Kitchen package

includes three nights at the four-star Hotel

de Londres y de Inglaterra, a cooking lesson,

excursions to Bilbao and San Sebastins old

town and some meals. Instruction is available

in Spanish, French or English. From $1,900.

34 915 214 170; www.atasteofspain.com

surf school: Pukas on Playa de la Zurriolain San Sebastin (and at the nearby surf

mecca, Zarautz). 94 332 0068;

www.pukassurf.com

I do not know of any other place in the worldwhere cooking is as revered an art and as dominant in the nationalconsciousness, as it is in the Spanish Basque Country. It is one of the

most important and distinctive traits of our culture.

Sporting the Basque beret San

Sebastin gents in the Alberdi Elder gardensBelle poque architecture on La Concha

Bay Eduardo Chillidas Comb of the Windssculpture, exposed to the elements Bergara

Bars rainbowpintxo Piquillo peppersstuffed with cod, Basque-style hake and cod

pil-pilfrom the cooking college of Luis IrzarSalt cod brandade at the Aloa Berri bar

San Sebastins casco viejo, or old quarterSocializing at Gaztelubide, the oldest

gastronomic society in town

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societies themselves, where men gather to

cook and talk and share a meal. (For the most

part, Basque women do all of the cooking at

home, while Basque men cook in the restau-

rants and their gastronomical societies, or

txokos.)Traditionally the exclusive domain of

men, the societies have been around since

1870, serving as social clubs, with 15 to 100

members each, where men of all stratas of

society, from fishermen to magistrates, are

treated as equals. About 2,000 of these soci-

eties exist in Spain, with approximately 180

in San Sebastins old town alone including

several of the countrys oldest and best

known. Today, some of the finest food in

Spain is prepared in these clubs, which are

closed to everyone except members and their

guests. To join a gastronomic society, an

aspiring socio needs to be recommended by a

member and supported unanimously by avote; though it is possible, says Mokoroa, to

belong to more than one at a time.

Men here love to cook thats why

were in the kitchen. But there are excellent

female chefs in this [Basque] country too.

And though, traditionally, the gastronomic

societies were male-only, that is slowly start-

ing to change, Mokoroa admits. Now, very

few societies are exclusively male.

Once the pie is in the oven, we slowly

prepare the marmitako with fresh, seasonal

ingredients purchased at the nearby San

Martn and La Bretxa markets. Not surpris-ingly, given the Basque coastline and strong

fishing traditions on the Bay of Biscay and

the Atlantic, seafood figures prominently in

local dishes, particularly cod, tuna, hake, sar-

dines, anchovies, baby eels and squid. Local

wine or Basque sidra (cider) is also enjoyed

with most meals. (Basques prefer earthy reds,

vino tinto, particularly from the nearby Rioja

region, though txakol, the slightly efferves-

cent Basque white, is also popular.)

The onions for the marmitako are sauted

in olive oil along with the garlic and green

peppers. I help Mokoroas assistant cook, AritzAramburu, cut the peeled potatoes into cubes,

slicing them halfway and then cracking

them into the pot so they release their starch

and naturally thicken the stew. We cut the

papery skins of dried red peppers into rings

with scissors, add the tomatoes and season to

taste, then add the tuna and simmer. Moko-

roa dips his spoon to taste. Its almost ready.

After more discussion of Basque culture

and history, gastronomy and lifestyle, the

tuna is stewed to perfection, the pie cooled.

Mokoroa grabs a Rioja a Spanish red and

a bottle each of cider and txakol for the table,

and wine or cider is poured into tumblers.

Mokoroa, his assistants Aramburu, the lone

female cook Pepi Mgica and servers Merche

Martnez and Loli Barquero and I sit down

and toast one another. I try my stew its

delicious, as is the pie as we chat about

members and guests whove cooked and

eaten here in recent weeks: architects, profes-

sors, politicians, even a delegation of Japan-

ese chefs. (I joined their ranks by simply

signing up for a cooking course an easy

entre for anyone wishing to learn more

about Basque culture and cuisine.)

After our big midday meal, Mokoroa

escorts me through San Sebastins old town,

pointing out other gastronomic societies

tucked away behind non-descript doorways.

This is the oldest, he says, of Gaztelubide, on

a side street near Plaza de la Trinidad. I pokemy head in, hoping curious women arent

taboo, and snap a photo. Back on the streets,

the occasional poster or banner calls for the

return of Basque political prisoners. Basque

flags flutter from balconies next to potted

hydrangeas. Street signs in Basque a lan-

guage cluttered with xs, ts, ks and zs serve

as subtle reminders that we are not in just

any quiet corner of Spain, but inEuskal Her-

ria, the Basque homeland.

We stroll by the San Martn market, once

as famous and important as Barcelonas La

Boqueria. Sadly, says Mokoroa, the market hasbeen converted into a mini-mall, with shops,

cinemas and, most surprising, a McDonalds.

There was much protest to this fast-food inva-

sion of a slow-food sanctuary, Mokoroa tells

me, but the battle was lost. Ironically, the

most important fish market in Spain has now

moved underground, to a parkade.

For the best pintxos, Mokoroa recom-

mends the old town, where the tapas are

more traditional, though there are modern

variations. The wordpintxo, he tells me,

comes from the Spanish wordpinchar, to

prick, because pintxos were originally eatenwith a wooden toothpick. Today these finger

foods are served on plates, platters or in bowls.

But, unlike other tapas, which have evolved

into side dishes in some cases, pintxos are not

to be eaten with a fork or spoon. He suggests

a tour of theparte vieja, sampling the pintxos

at five or six establishments. Some specialize

in anchovies, others in setas a la plancha

(grilled mushrooms) or prawns, but the food

is good most everywhere, he notes.

Later, I venture out alone to the tapas bars

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in the casco viejo, or old quarter, and find one

bathed in a warm yellow light. It is pintxo

heaven: Inside, hungry tasters are packed into

the narrow bar like sardines and the atmos-

phere is convivial. The pintxos anchovies

on grilled peppers, asparagus wrapped in

salmon, baguettes crowned with crabmeat or

ham, even white fish that could pass for

Basque sashimi are stacked on white plates

along the bar. In true Spanish style, tooth-

picks and napkins are tossed on the floor and

the bartender calculates the bill by trusting

the customers own tally. Small squares of

waxy paper serve as cocktail napkins, but do

little to soak up the olive oil on my hands.

The bigger challenge, I realize, will be to leave

each tapas bar after only a taste or two.

Can you take our picture? Four youngSpaniards dressed in white T-shirts are holi-

daying in San Sebastin en route to the Run-

ning of the Bulls. Javier Moreno, who runs a

catering company in Madrid, is so inspired by

the array of food on display at the bar, he

snaps digital close-ups of the bocadillos and

variations of toppings piled on toasted rounds

of bread. In Madrid, we dont have tapas like

this, not like these pintxos, explains his

friend, Javier Marin. Tapas in Madrid are kept

behind glass cases not piled high and cover-

ing every inch of space on the bar.

Themadrileos invite me to join them in

search of another tapas bar. Its still far too

early for dinner in Spain, which is usually

eaten after 9 p.m. A light rain has started to

fall the narrow pedestrian-only streets of

the old town are already slick but there are

no awnings or overhangs to duck under, so

we dash into the first bar we find on the

grand Alameda del Boulevard, separating

the old town from the more modern zona

romntica. The bars interior is decorated

with black-and-white photographs of tradi-

tional Basque sports strong-man competi-

tions and handball, orjai alai a reminder

of a culture radically different from the rest

of Spain. My Castilian friends, I realize, are

just as puzzled by this cultural shift as I am.I look around the bar. The origin of these

Basques and their language remain a mys-

tery; genetically, the Basques are different

from other Europeans; and the Basque lan-

guage,Euskera, is arguably the oldest living

European language. But one thing is clear:

despite countless invasions and occupa-

tions, the indomitable Basques have kept

their culture alive for thousands of years.

My last evening in San Sebastin, afriend and I dine at one of the many restau-

rants specializing in nueva cocina vasca (newwave Basque cuisine) in the old quarter, not

far from the oldest gastronomic society. We

share the eight-course men degustacin, start-

ing with foie gras yogurt and gazpacho

shooters garnished with clover and daisies,

followed by octopus, hake and a surprising

potato-and-apple salad.

At a nearby table, one couple trades fork-

fuls of their dishes, smokes cigarettes between

each course and, at the end of their languo-

rous two-hour meal, politely bickers over the

bill. The marmitako, I realize, is symbolic of

the Basque regions cuisine and culture. Theslow food movement has been embraced

wholeheartedly here, by the gastronomic

societies and the best chefs, as well as the

locals. Soon the tourists will leave, as they

always do, for the Running of the Bulls in

Pamplona, and San Sebastin will fall back

into its own quiet rhythm. I, too, will come

away from the city with a fuller impression,

of a place far more layered and complex than

the one encountered on my first visit. And

this time, Ill know better than to wait so long

to return.

W E S T W O R L D >> S P R I N G 2 0 0 7 81

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A stay at El Molino promises hands-on

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bcaa.com/spain or your nearest BCAA sales

office (see page 94).

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