Valencia, Spain: Horchata

I hadn’t read much about Valencia before jumping into a friend’s car and driving three hours south. After all, we were to be the guests of a real Valenciana who was eager to show off her city. With such an enthusiastic host, I wasn’t too worried about the itinerary. I had only two requests: to taste a real paella, and to cool down with the best horchata in town.

Nowadays paella and arroz caldoso are available in most Spanish cities, but these dishes sustained Valencian families long before they appeared on tourist menus. Local restaurants specialize in the preparation of rice, proudly displaying large paellas, diameters exceeding three feet, mixed with shrimp, vegetables, and chicken in restaurant windows. Savvy clients pre-order their paellas before arriving at the restaurant to avoid the hour-long cooking time. We weren’t that well organized. But the inky black rice with cuttlefish and seafood paella with giant shrimps and mussels were definitely worth the wait.

Valencia is also famous for a little American known crop called chufa. The root of a tuber called tigernut in English, chufa is the main ingredient in the summer drink, horchata. The drink has only a few ingredients but its production is so involved that when I inquired about home brewing, even locals at the market warned me against it.

After hours of walking in the sun, our friend pulled us into a local watering hole for the typical Valenciana merienda of ice cold horchata and sweet fartons. Clearly, there were only three things on the menu: the classic horchata, horchata granizada (like a slushy), and fartons (a fluffy baton of bread covered with a thick layer of hardened sugar). The décor of white tiled walls, marble tabletops, and closet-like bathrooms suggested both age and authenticity.

Good horchata can be found in Barcelona, but Valencia has the definitive recipe. I opted for the horchata granizada, a blend of horchata and crushed ice. It arrived in a tall clear glass on a white saucer. The texture was fine and fluffy, like soft snow, and the color was a dull off-white. The taste was also distinct, a subtle combination of nutty and sweet. The added delight of a sugary farton rejuvenated me for hours of site-seeing that lasted almost until midnight.