Kitchen Chick

Gambas en La Casa del Abuelo, Madrid, Spain

We hit some of the main tapas places in the heart of Madrid. Of course, this meant they were the popular tourist spots, too, but we had a great time. One of our favorites was La Casa del Abuelo for shrimp and their famous sweet red house wine. We loved it so much we went back two nights in a row.

La Casa del Abuelo is actually a small chain with three locations in Madrid. We went to the one on Calle Victoria, an area with a cluster of tapas bars where there's something guaranteed to please everyone.

The place was packed that first night (see below), with hardly a free square foot to stand in, but as a couple left I pushed my way in and grabbed their tiny spot at a wall with a very small and rather high counter. Just the right size for two people, even though the counter was nearly at head level for me (which is why I don't have a downward shot of the shrimp), and with a fabulous view of the guy cooking up front.

The waitress pretty much knew what we wanted. There are just a few dishes that everyone gets, and we got them. (Big surprise...) We had to try the wine, which was indeed very sweet and heavy and dark. We ordered two types of shrimp, one prepared in a garlic and olive oil sauce -- gambas al ajillo -- and the other battered and sprinkled with salt -- gambas a la gabardina.  (Pictures of both are in the extended post.)

Both dishes arrived piping hot. The sauce for the garlic shrimp was still bubbling. You can scald your tongue in your eagerness to try these tasty bits (like we did), or you can lean back, enjoy your wine and crowd watch while they cool down to a non-dangerous level.

We enjoyed them both, but our personal favorite was the battered shrimp. They look plain, but they were all sorts of delicious.

La Casa del Abuelo
C/ Victoria, 12
28012 Madrid
Tel: (34) 915 212 319

Key Lime Pie with Meringue

Usually summer is all about the peaches and blueberries and raspberries, but this summer I've been enchanted with limes. My love affair with limes goes back to my time as an undergraduate student at the University of Michigan and the hours I spent at Drake's Sandwich Shop. Drake's opened in the 1920s, and walking through their doors was like stepping back in history. The front was an old-fashioned candy store. Off to one side was an ice cream parlor-style counter, staffed by surly Community High students. (It was part of the charm, really.) You'd place your order at the cash register, find one of the old wooden high-backed booths, and listen for your name to be called. Photos and newspaper clipping stretching back through the decades covered the walls. There was a little known 2nd story -- the "Martian Room" -- but it was lonely up there and I only went there when I couldn't sit downstairs. Customers were a mix of college students, townies, and punk rock kids.

But what does this have to do with limes?

Sometimes I'd order the sandwiches, all of which were named after Big 10 schools (back when the Big 10 only had 10 schools) and featured toasted white bread slices with deli meat and some combination of sandwich fixings. They were thin and charmingly old-fashioned. But most of the time I would order a toasted cinnamon roll and lime-ade with extra sugar. The counter girl would slice the cinnamon roll in half horizontally and grill each half (on the inside surface) until toasty. The lime juice was freshly squeezed and even with "extra sugar" (which they didn't always bother to add) was mouth-puckeringly sour.

It was a tradition. 

So this summer, I have been buying limes and squeezing my own mouth-puckeringly sour lime-ades. Juice of two limes, water, plus some sugar (a tablespoon or so? I haven't measured) all stirred together with an ice cube or two added to chill it down.

My lime enchantment did not stop with lime-ade. When a friend gifted us with a pile of key limes -- leftovers from a mojito party -- I knew it was time for me to make my first key lime pie. And I'm glad I did. They are remarkably easy. Opinion out there seems to be divided between "you must use real key limes" and "key limes and persian limes (the usual kind) make no difference in final pie flavor". I haven't done a side-by-side taste test, but I can say that there is a definite difference in how long it takes to get your freshly squeezed juice... (You'll need around a dozen key limes but only two or three regular limes.)

Key Lime Pie
How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman

1 graham cracker pie crust (recipe in extended post)
4 eggs, separated
1 (14 oz) can sweetened condensed milk
1/3 Cup freshly squeezed lime juice
pinch salt
pinch cream of tartar
1/4 Cup confectioners sugar

Prebake crust. Start filling while crust is in the oven. When the crust is done, leave the oven at 350 F and cool the crust slightly on a rack.

Beat the egg yolks just until combined. Beat in the condensed milk, then the lime juice a little at a time. The mixture will thicken. Place the filling into the warm crust and bake until the filling is just firm. 10 - 15 minutes. Remove and cool on a rack for about 10 minutes. Leave oven on.

Make the meringue. Beat the egg whites with salt and cream of tartar, until foamy. Add confectioners sugar a little bit at a time until the mixture is shiny and holds fairly stiff peaks. Be careful not to overbeat. (I slightly overbeat in the above photo. See how the points fell over?)

Cover pie with meringue, making sure the meringue covers the entire filling and makes contact with the crust edges. The stiff meringue will hold its shape, so you can decorate it how you like. To make lots of little peaks all over the pie, take a whisk and poke it lightly into the meringue and lift up. Bake until the meringue is lightly browned; 10 - 15 minutes. Cool on a rack and then refrigerate. Serve cool.

This pie is best eaten the same day. If it sits too long, the sugar will start sweating out of the meringue and form beads on the top. It will still taste great, but it's messier and looks funny.

Cruceta de Cerdo (and some other things) at Bar Cios, Salamanca, Spain

Pluma de cerdo with patatas bravas

After Son de Mar, we headed a scant block away to Bar Cios, which is also near the Central Market. At a lot of tapas bars, the bartender will also be your chef. We asked about the house special, and the bartender set some lovely pieces of pork loin and red peppers on the grill. He chopped up the pork and served it with a side of potatoes topped with bravas and garlic sauce. We were in heaven. Again. I think there is a special heaven where Spanish pork dishes, like pincho moruno and pluma iberíco and paper-thin slices of cured iberíco hams, are served. Of course that heaven is already right on Earth, in the Iberíco region of Spain. (I just wish our government and protectionist trade policies would allow us to import cured Iberíco hams.)

A short digression on terminology and context:  when they served this to us, they said it was called "cruceta de cerdo" or "pluma de cerdo".  It comes from the same Iberico pigs that the treasured Iberico hams come from, and Salamanca is known as one of the two best regions for Iberico pork.  It shows — this is the best pork we've ever tasted, anywhere.

This was a huge plate that easily serves two or more. It would have made a full meal for one just by itself. We loved it so much (and Bar Cios was so close!) that we went back the next day and ordered it again for lunch...

Pluma de cerdo for lunch the next day, as cooked by a different bartender/chef

I tried to find an address for Bar Cios but, alas, the Internet is failing me. It's right across the street from the Central Market.

More tapas photos from Bar Cios in the extended post. One of the really neat things about Spain is that they'll give you free tapas with your drinks, and two of the following were free...

Pulpería Son de Mar, Salamanca

Mussels at Pulpería Son de Mar

For our second night, we stayed a little closer to the hotel, and found some delightful tapas bars right around the central market. Pulpería Son de Mar is set below street level, so you must descend a flight to get to the bar. It has a clean, modern decor of dark blue walls and dark wood tables.

Having gotten an early start, we were some of the first customers at Son de Mar, a bar specializing (unsurprisingly if you speak Spanish) in seafood. While it's in some ways more pleasurable to hit the tapas bars while the crowds are in full swing, the nice thing about being on the early side is that the bartenders and servers have more time to chat with you.

I got to indulge once again in mussels, which we ordered in a vinegrette style. And of course we couldn't resist trying their pulpo a la Gallega, which they served on the traditional wooden dish. Delish! I love that smokey Spanish paprika. (We actually preferred this dish at Casa Chicho, but if you're in Salamanca and have the opportunity, we encourage you to try it at both places and see which one you prefer.)

Our friendly hosts capped off our visit with free shots of some of their flavored liqueurs for the road, which was wonderful.  (And safe, since we were walking...)

Pulpo a la gallega served on the traditional wooden dish

A pair of liqueurs, one lemon, the other thyme-infused.

Pulpería Son de Mar
C/ Obispo Jarrín 2
37001 Salamanca, Spain
923 269 699

Help End Childhood Hunger — Great American Bake Sale

Back when I was a child, I remember my grandmother volunteering for a local organization that found food for hungry families. Once a month or so, she'd spend the evening sitting by her rotary dial phone to receive calls from families who had no food and to direct them to various local community resources where they could obtain food. Poverty and hunger in the US has, sadly, only grown since that time.

With that said, although there's just a month left in the campaign, it's not too late to participate in the Great American Bake Sale.

Organized by Share Our Strength, a nation-wide nonprofit that brings together individuals and businesses to end hunger, the Great American Bake Sale raises funds that are distributed to community organizations that work to increase participation by low-income children in summer and after-school feeding programs and to support nutrition education programs for low-income families. 

The Great American Bake Sale has raised over 3 million dollars since 2003. In 2005, they sent 91% of bake sale proceeds to organizations across America to fight childhood hunger, which is an excellent ratio. In Michigan, community organizations that receive funding from the Bake Sale include Mayor's Time,Inc. in Detroit and the Center for Civil Justice in Saginaw.

I wish I had learned about this earlier! The Great American Bake Sale sounds like a fantastically fun way to be part of a nationwide grassroots movement to raise money to fight hunger. I'm wondering if I can squeeze in a bake sale somehow in the next few weeks, but even if I can't, Mercedes Bent of Share Our Strength has told me that anyone can have a bake sale and donate the proceeds to the program any time of the year.

(If a bake sale isn't in your future but you'd still like to help out, you can donate directly to Share Our Strength.)

The Medina Cats of Fez

Butcher Shop in Fez, Morocco

I've not been good about posting of late, so while I try to catch up on all the stuff at home, work, and online I leave you with this teaser of some of the sights we saw in the market near Bab Boujeloud, in the Kairouine Quarter of the old city of Fez.

Joe snapped this photo of a cat begging for scraps. Medina cats have a rough life, but the butchers and fishmongers have a soft spot for them. He got some scraps shortly after Joe took this photo.

(Don't worry -- there will be more of Spain to come, and then... Morocco!)