Fira Lactium: Vic

Dear Devon,

Last November, fresh off of six weeks of intensive Spanish lessons, I tested my new skills at my first Barcelona dinner party. Seated with eight other guests around a large wooden table and a generous dinner of wild mushroom risotto and braised chard, I listened to the excited chatter. The conversations moved quickly and fluidly. I strung together snippets of phrases and pieces of dialogue, my tongue stilled by their effortless chatter.

The conversation shifted to food, specifically cheese. One cheese-loving guest praised a soft, fragrant cheese from the Basque Country in emotional terms, finally pounding his fist on table in excitement and frustration with the gentle teasing of our fellow table companions. I had to interrupt. How often do I run across such an ardent cheese enthusiast? That’s when he told me where to find cheese heaven, otherwise known as the Fira Lactium in Vic, the largest town in the Catalan comarca of Osona. Like Christmas, it comes only once a year in May. I jotted down the details and even made a note in my calendar to remind myself to look for the fair in April. Six months later we were on a train headed north to the Fira Lactium.


Vic was in the full throws of its Saturday market, but the big event of the day was the cheese fair. Vegans and lactose-intolerants be warned: This is glorious dairy indulgence. I was warned to restrain myself to avoid overwhelming my tastebuds. The sour, flowery, rich smell of cheese was everywhere, as were the samples! Producers’ stands lined the street and a temporary eating hall had been erected at the heart of the fair.

When we arrived, the cheese competition was in full swing. Four tables of judges scribbling, sniffing, poking, and eating cheese filled most of the tent. Two sample plates with an assortment of hot and cold cheeses were being sold. Buying both of these meant trying sixteen different cheeses. For our panel of three, these two plates were more than enough. One cheese in particular had our heads spinning. We brought the sample to the front to ask for more details, only to be told that since the competition was still in progress, the name and origin of the cheese could not be revealed. Undeterred, we took our small sample to the each of the thirty-odd cheese stands, hoping the vendor would recognize his cheese. Unfortunately, this didn’t work either: We never did find our mystery cheese, but we boarded the train to Barcelona carrying artisanal yogurts, cheesecake, and of course, cheese.

The real surprise of the excursion was that we bumped into our fist-pounding friend, whom we found tasting the very same cheese from the Basque country that he had praised to us six months earlier.

Coconut & Sea Salt Brownies

Dear Devon,

A few months ago, Melissa Clark had a recipe in the Times for brownies made with olive oil, sea salt, and shredded coconut. I bookmarked the recipe, and ran to the store to buy some shredded coconut, but it wasn’t until last week that I got around to making the brownies.

I thought I knew how to bake the perfect brownies: Moist, dense, fudgy squares with a crunchy crust. But Ms. Clark’s recipe gave me something to think about. She substitutes olive oil for butter, runs a layer of coconut through the brownie, and dusts the top with sea salt for extra flavor. Her tweaking of a classic recipe and play with unusual ingredients grabbed my interest right away.


I’ve only started to experiment with olive oil as a baking ingredient very recently. The wide variety of good and reasonably priced Spanish olive oil, plus my lack of an eggbeater, has made me reconsider recipes in which I always used butter. It’s broadened my repertoire. I’ve found that olive oil gives a nice fruitiness to cakes and baked goods, and renders a moist crumb that is sometimes lacking in butter-laden recipes.

Following Melissa Clark’s advice, I sprinkled the top of my brownies with good quality sea salt from Mallorca. This topping gave the brownies an unusual character and flavor, a bit peppery, and even buttery. Since buying a box of sea salt, my palette has felt the sparkle of salt. It’s become indispensible on my kitchen table, topping everything from fresh salads to pastas primavera. If I keep discovering new gastronomic delights, I’ll have to throw out all my clothes to make room for them in my suitcase.


Coconut & Sea Salt Brownies
(adapted from Melissa Clark NY Times 2/4/2011)

½ cup plus 2 tbsp water, boiling
1/3 cup cocoa powder, unsweetened
2 oz chocolate, coarsely chopped (70% or higher)
3 large eggs
1 egg yolk
1 tsp hazelnut oil
1 cup sugar
1 ¾ cup all-purpose flour, sifted
¾ tsp salt
2 ½ oz chocolate, chopped
1 cup shredded coconut
1 tbsp fleur de sel

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter a 9 x 13 inch pan. Set aside.

Sift cocoa powder into a large mixing bowl. Pour in boiling water and whisk until cocoa is dissolved. Add 2 oz chopped chocolate. Stir until chocolate is melted. Add olive oil and hazelnut oil. Beat in eggs one at a time, until the yolks disappear. Gradually add sugar. The mixture will look curdled and at first the olive oil will not mix into the chocolate, but keep working. With steady whisking, the batter will come together into a smooth chocolatey-mixture. Using a rubber spatula, fold in flour and table salt. Fold in 2 ½ oz chopped chocolate.

Pour batter into the oiled pan. Sprinkle with sea salt and shredded coconut. It is easiest to start with the sea salt. It’s amazing how easily the sea salt hides in the finely shredded coconut.

Bake 25 to 30 minutes. The toothpick test doesn’t work here, so be sure your oven is at the right temperature. I also like to turn on the broiler for just a bit, to get the coconut nicely toasted.

Cool on a wire rack. Cut into nicely sized squares.

Red Onion and Cherry Tomato Pizza

Dear Devon,

There are some combinations of flavors that should be repeated, and repeated often. For me, red onion and fresh cherry tomatoes with roasted garlic is one of those unbeatable combinations. About two weeks ago, I walked past an artisanal pizza shop. A fresh tray of hot pizza topped with red onions and cherry tomatoes had just been set in the display window. The clean white tiled interior and chalkboard menu drew me into the shop. It was dangerously close to dinnertime, but I bought a slice, anyway, and walked home munching on warm pizza.

Fingers barely wiped clean of grease, I thought to myself: I can do this, and I can do it better. I set a frozen ball of pizza dough out to defrost and made a mental list of ingredients: cherry tomatoes, red onion, garlic, and basil.

Don’t expect to get the most scrumptious results without using the best quality ingredients. Lately, I have been getting some delicious red cherry tomatoes from the local market. Sweet and bright, these tomatoes are great in salads, sauces, or as a refreshing snack. I have taken to eating them cold, straight out of the fridge. My other recent luxury is fresh basil– I was planning to make a big batch of pesto– so a few big leaves made it onto my pizza, as well. A few slices from a wedge of raclette cheese added that last touch to the rich flavors fo the pizza. Requests for a second round have already been recorded!

Red Onion and Cherry Tomato Pizza

Pizza dough
1 red onion
5 cherry tomatoes, sliced
3 cloves of garlic, smashed and sliced
¼ to ½ cup tomato sauce
cheese

Preheat oven to 450 degrees F.

Roll out dough on a lightly floured surface, forming a large disk. Sprinkle a bit of cornmeal on the pizza board and set the prepared dough on top. Spread a generous spoonful of tomato sauce over the dough. Top with thinly sliced red onions and garlic. Next, top with cheese and tomatoes.

Bake in the oven until golden brown and the cheese is nicely melted, about 15 minutes.

Chocolate Chip Cookies - Crispy Style

Dear Devon,

There may be amazing desserts in Europe, but there isn’t anything quite like a good old American chocolate chip cookie. I am a full-blown cookie monster, and for the past seven months, I’ve have been satisfying my cravings with European “cookies.” Flat, hard, crunchy, more like crackers than the buttery, sweet, dense morsels that we call cookies. They are adequate, but some days, a girl just needs her cookies!


I asked a Europe-bound friend to bring a box of brown of sugar, so I could get a bit of the US into my Barcelona apartment. I am thrilled that she dragged it eastward in her suitcase (warm hugs to her boyfriend, who ran to the corner store to pick up my last minute request). Brown sugar in hand, I prepared for a chocolate-chip-cookie-baking marathon.

About half way through the recipe, I realized that I was ½ cup short on flour. I was hardly going to run to the store for an extra ½ cup of flour. Instead, I substituted that ½ cup of flour for an equal amount of shredded coconut. How big of an effect could it have?

Well… do you know Tate’s Bake Shop? They turn out amazingly crispy and almost caramel-like chocolate chip cookies. Unassumingly packed into clear plastic bags with big green labels, these cookies were an occasional afternoon treat in my New York office. And while I never turned down a Tate’s cookie, I was not convinced that their style could be recreated in the home kitchen. In my current state of deprivation, impatience was a virtue… I inadvertently discovered the magical proportion of butter to flour to chocolate that must be the secret of Tate’s chocolate chip crisps!

As a side note, these cookies are best eaten cold, with a nice cup of tea or coffee– they’re actually not all that great for ice-cream sandwiches.


Crisp Chocolate Chip Cookies
(makes about 6 dozen small cookies)

1 ½ cups all-purpose flour
½ cup shredded coconut
1 tsp salt
¾ tsp baking soda
8 oz butter, at room temp (2 sticks)
1 cup sugar
2/3 cup light brown sugar (packed)
2 large eggs
12 oz dark chocolate, chopped into large chunks
1 cup hazelnuts, chopped

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Line baking sheet with parchment paper or silpat.

In a large bowl, whisk together flour, shredded coconut, salt, and baking soda. Set aside.

In a second large bowl, beat butter until smooth with a wooden spoon (or to save your arm strength for carrying groceries from the subway, use an electric mixer). Add brown and white sugars, mix until well-blended. Beat in eggs one at a time until each is well-incorporated. In three portions, mix in dry ingredients, nuts, and chocolate chunks. Cool in the fridge for 1 hour, until the dough is firm and set.

Using two spoons, carefully transfer dough onto baking sheets. Set far apart, about 2 inches. The cookies will spread in the oven.

Bake the cookies, 8 to 12 minutes. Checking the oven at the 8 minute mark. When the cookies are nice and brown, pull the sheet from the oven and let cool for 1 or 2 minutes. The cookies will harden as they cool. Set aside on a wire rack.

Repeat with the remaining dough, cooling baking sheet between batches.

Mallorca, the real ensaimada

Dear Devon,

One of my favorite treats is a fluffy, spiral-shaped ensaimada. Dusted with a generous sprinkling of powdered sugar, the simple yeasted pastry has a history that extends back to the Middle Ages. The story goes that the spiral shape was modeled after the ends of Torah scrolls. The ensaimada can be found in every pastry case. (I am particularly fond of the ones offered at my corner shop.)

Mallorca claims to make the true ensaimada. I suppose Paris could claim to make the true croissant, but are such declarations necessary? The island of Mallorca seems to think so. A sticker denoting geographical indication, similar to the French system of Appellation d'origine controlée, appears in every ensaimada-selling establishment, as does a bright orange sticker on each ensaimada box. The poster sums up their feelings.

A week ago, I was fortunate enough to sample the “real” ensaimada. A friend, who made a quick two-day jaunt to the sunny town of Palma, brought one up to Barcelona. Transported in an octagonal blue box patterned with white dots and stamped with the orange Consell Regulador Indicació Geográfica Protegida sticker, the ensaimada rested under a soft blanket of powdered sugar and white tissue. Larger than any reasonable single serving, this could easily feed four people. I later learned that some reached the size of small dining table: Imagine putting one of those in the overhead bin!

I whipped out my camera, took some pictures, and couldn’t wait until morning, when this pillowy treat would be my breakfast. I wasn’t disappointed. The bread was light and fluffy, filled with a subtly sweet jelly-like paste, and perfect with that first cup of coffee. Is it better than the Barcelona varieties? I’m not so sure. But, I think it’s a perfect excuse to head over to my corner shop for a second look.