No artificial flavourings or entertainment

Food and drink play an integral part of the Spanish culture,
 just as they do in most countries.  The Spanish love nothing more
than meeting in large groups at restaurants and cafés to pick over a wide array
of tapas dishes and talk (loudly).  

The home cooked meal is also still a large part of family life in Spain, and
during the summer months it is not uncommon to see ten or fifteen people
sitting outside a house enjoying a family get together that will last well into
the early hours of the morning.

I love to see this.  It comforts me that while the rest of the Western
world’s idea of a family meal is KFC in front of the television, there are
still places where families and freinds enjoy home cooked food and each other’s
company.  The meetings can be raucous, with everyone talking over one
another in the typical Spanish way, but they certainly don’t seem to be pining
for the canned laughter or thirty minute drama of television.

The only time I find myself detesting these mass gatherings is when I am stuck
behind a Spanish matriarch on her summer food shopping.   As the
designated cook, these ladies can spend hours selecting groceries for the
family meals,  and the freshness and quality of every item must be
inspected thoroughly.

I ended up in the line at the fish counter this morning behind one such lady.
  A tiny lady (Spanish mother figures only seem to come in two sizes-
miniscule or majestic), she was shouting instructions and orders at the lady
behind the counter,  frequently glancing at the shopping list she had
clutched in her hand to make sure she didn’t forget anything.  I knew I
could be in for a long wait, and listened and watched as she went down the row of
fresh sea food.  

Like me, she was buying prawns. She asked for the smaller sized langoustines,
because they have more flavour than the larger ones.  Next on the list was
eel.  I watched in awe as the serving lady lifted the long, fat creature
and draped it onto the scale.  After weighing it,  she stripped the
skin off in long ribbons and began slicing it into chunks.  At this point
a French lady who was also in line, asked the Spanish women how she intended to
cook it.

“Oh, it’s really easy.  You just rub some garlic, salt, and cayenne
pepper on the surface and then fry it on the plancha (flat grill) for
two minutes on each side.  But you should put the head and the tail in a
pot with some water and herbs to make a great soup.”   The French
lady thanked her, and turning to me said, “It is a great way to learn to
cook new things,  asking people when they are buying.” I nodded in
agreement, wondering if I would ever pluck up the courage to try eel.
 ”I have a friend who has been here for six years, and she will cook
anything!  She has even managed octopus,
although when I tried it came out very tough.”

Hearing this the Spanish woman turned back to us. “Of
course!  The first few times you cook it
is will be very chewy.  You need to
practice cooking things like that.” 
Obviously deciding that we both needed a decent culinary education,  she was in her stride now, and managed to simultaneously
bark orders at the lady at the fish counter, while sharing more cooking tips
with us novices.  ”Of course,  for the best soup,  you want
to use the head of a Rape (monkfish),  that makes a really rich,
excellent soup!”  I couldn’t help but glance at the monkfish on the
counter.  If you have never seen a monkfish anywhere other than cooked on
your plate in a restaurant then I will save you the nightmares and not describe
it.  Suffice to say it looks rather vicious, and I can’t imagine eating any
soup that has had those eyes staring back at me from the broth.  Still, I made the resolution to follow the
French lady’s example, and ask for cooking tips from the locals the next time I
see them buying something unfamiliar.

Half an hour later,  I finally got served,  but I didn’t mind the
wait,  as I had picked up several new recipes and cooking tips.   I
admit,  I did buy just the prawns
though.  My foray into cooking unfamiliar
seafood will need to wait for another day when I am feeling a little more
native.