Spanish recipes

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Suquet de peix

Fishermen from Cadaqués, Palamós and the other Costa Brava ports made suquet on board with the fish that would not sell: rockfish, monkfish, hake, a few prawns, simmered with potatoes in a sofrito and thickened at the end with a picada of garlic, almonds, parsley and fried bread. Now it is a weekend lunch in harbour restaurants, served straight from the pan. The potatoes must release their starch so the broth turns into a light, silky sauce. Chef's tip: 'crack' the potatoes rather than slicing them: cut part way, then snap off the pieces; the rough edges give up more starch.

70 min

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Botifarra amb mongetes

This contains pork (botifarra sausage). Ask in any Barcelona neighbourhood restaurant for the most Catalan plate on the menu and you will probably get this: a coil of grilled botifarra, a fresh pork sausage seasoned with little more than salt and pepper, beside white beans sautéed with garlic and parsley until crisp at the edges. It is everyday lunch food, and often comes with allioli. If you cannot find botifarra, use coarse, plain fresh pork sausages. Chef's tip: let the beans sit untouched in the hot pan for a minute between stirs, so some of them catch and crisp.

30 min

Spanish Meat

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Porra antequerana

In Antequera, north of Málaga, porra comes to the table so thick that a spoon stands up in it, and bars in the old town serve it from May until the first autumn rains as a starter or a light supper. It is a cousin of salmorejo, but with green pepper and more garlic, and the town tops it with chopped egg and a thread of oil. Locally the garnish also includes tuna and cured ham; this version keeps it vegetarian with egg and diced pepper. A common mistake is thinning it with water to make it go further: porra should be spooned, never sipped. Chef's tip: use only the reddest, softest tomatoes of the summer, because a pale tomato makes a pink, flat-tasting porra however much oil you add.

20 min

Spanish Soups

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Piononos de Santa Fe

The pionono was invented in Santa Fe, on the plain outside Granada, in the late nineteenth century by a local pastry maker who named it after Pope Pius IX, Pío Nono in Spanish. The town still sells them by the dozen from its bakeries, and granadinos carry boxes home for Sunday coffee. Each one is a little standing roll of thin sponge soaked in cinnamon syrup, filled with custard and capped with a dome of custard burnt under a hot iron or torch. Chef's tip: roll the sponge while it is still warm and pliable; once cool it cracks instead of curling.

75 min

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Tocino de cielo

Tocino de cielo means 'bacon from heaven', but there is no pork in it at all: the name refers only to its rich, deep-yellow colour. The story told in Jerez de la Frontera is that the sherry bodegas used egg whites to clarify their wine and gave the leftover yolks to the convents, whose nuns turned them into this. It is denser and silkier than flan, with no milk, and a small square goes a long way after Sunday lunch. Chef's tip: strain the yolk mixture twice and skim off every bubble; that is what gives the glassy, pore-free finish.

60 min

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Pescaíto frito

On the beaches of Pedregalejo and El Palo in Málaga, chiringuito cooks shake small fish in flour and fry them by the basketful: whole fresh anchovies (boquerones), rings of squid, strips of dogfish and little red mullet, served piled on paper with lemon. The secret is a coarse frying flour, partly durum semolina, and very clean, hot oil, so each piece comes out crisp and dry. Eat it at once, at the table, with a cold drink and a salad. Chef's tip: shake off every bit of loose flour in a sieve before frying; excess flour burns and makes the oil dark and bitter.

50 min

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Calçots amb salvitxada

From January to April, the town of Valls near Tarragona and half of Catalonia go to calçotades: long country lunches where calçots, a tall, sweet onion grown banked up with earth, are flame-grilled until black, wrapped in newspaper to steam, then peeled by hand and dipped in salvitxada. Everyone wears a bib. This salvitxada leans on almonds, roasted tomato and garlic, with ñora peppers for colour and sweetness. If you cannot get calçots, use thick spring onions or slim young leeks. Chef's tip: hold a calçot by the green top, pull the charred outer layer off downwards in one go, then dip and lower it into your mouth from above.

70 min

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Pipirrana jaenera

Olive pickers in the province of Jaén used to carry the makings of pipirrana into the groves, and in the city it is still the salad people set out on a hot July evening, with bread for the juices. What sets the Jaén version apart is the dressing: garlic, salt and boiled egg yolk are pounded together, then loosened with the province's own peppery oil until it turns creamy. Some cooks add tinned tuna; this one stays vegetarian. The usual mistake is chopping the vegetables in large chunks; everything should be cut small enough to fit a fork. Chef's tip: peel the tomatoes before dicing, so the dressing clings to soft flesh instead of slipping off tough skin.

30 min

Spanish Salads

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Papas aliñás

Every tapas bar around the Plaza de Abastos in Cádiz keeps a tray of papas aliñás on the counter, and gaditanos eat them as a cold tapa on summer evenings with a glass of something cold. The potatoes are dressed while still warm, so they drink up the sherry vinegar and oil, then rest until they taste sharp, green and soft. Bars usually lay tuna and boiled egg on top; this version is fully plant-based and keeps all the flavour in the dressing. Chef's tip: choose waxy potatoes and cut them only after cooking, so they keep their shape when you toss them.

40 min

Spanish Salads

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Cazón en adobo

In Cádiz, the tapa that sells out first in the fried-fish shops around La Viña is cazón en adobo: bite-sized cubes of dogfish soaked overnight in a sharp marinade of vinegar, garlic, cumin, oregano and paprika, then floured and fried. The marinade seasons the fish right through and gives it a tang that needs no sauce. If you cannot find dogfish, monkfish or any firm white fish works. A common mistake is a short marinade; the fish needs at least 8 hours in the fridge, for the vinegar and cumin to soak in. Chef's tip: marinate for at least 8 hours but no more than 24; past that, the vinegar starts to firm and 'cook' the fish and it goes dry.

35 min

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Alboronía

Alboronía is one of the oldest dishes in Andalusia; its name comes from the Arabic of al-Andalus, and cooks in Córdoba, Jaén and the villages of the Sierra Morena still make it in late summer, when aubergines, peppers and the first pumpkins share the market stalls. The vegetables cook down slowly with cumin, paprika and a little vinegar until they melt together into something between a stew and a jam-like sauté. Eat it warm with bread, or cold the next day as a tapa. A common mistake is stirring the pumpkin too often, which mashes it into the sauce instead of leaving soft chunks. Chef's tip: let the pumpkin go in only after the onion and peppers are soft, so it holds a few pieces among the purée instead of disappearing.

75 min

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Alcachofas a la montillana

Montilla, south of Córdoba, makes a pale, dry wine from sun-dried Pedro Ximénez grapes, and in late winter and spring its kitchens braise young artichokes in it with a little saffron and fresh mint. Many cooks add cubes of cured ham; this version leaves it out and lets the artichokes, wine and mint carry the dish. It uses wine; the alcohol-free option is in the ingredient list. Serve it as a starter, or as a main with bread and a fried egg. A common mistake is trimming the artichokes without dropping them straight into lemon water, so they turn black before they reach the pan. Chef's tip: drop each trimmed artichoke straight into lemon water, because cut artichokes blacken within a minute in the air.

65 min

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Espárragos trigueros esparragados

From March to May, families around Granada and Córdoba walk the field edges gathering thin, bitter wild asparagus, and the classic way to cook the haul is esparragados: simmered in a sauce of pounded fried bread, garlic, cumin and paprika, with an egg poached on top. Thin green asparagus from the shop works well too. The sauce should be thick enough to hold the egg. Chef's tip: pound the bread and garlic while still warm from the pan; they break down into a smooth paste far more easily.

40 min

Spanish Snacks & Starters

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Aceitunas aliñadas

Before any tapa reaches the bar in Seville, a little dish of aliñadas usually does: cracked green manzanilla or gordal olives steeped in brine with garlic, wild thyme, fennel and a strip of orange peel. Markets like Triana sell them by the scoop, but they are simple to dress at home from plain olives in brine. Give them two days; the herbs need time to get into the flesh. A common mistake is serving them after a day; they need at least two days in the brine for the garlic and herbs to reach the stone. Chef's tip: crack each olive with the flat of a knife until it just splits; a crushed olive goes soft and cloudy in the jar.

15 min

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Molletes de Antequera

Ask for breakfast in any café between Málaga and Seville and someone will offer you a mollete: a flat, pale, floury roll from Antequera, split, toasted and spread with olive oil and crushed tomato. Bakers there bake them hot and fast so the crust stays thin and soft and the crumb is open and moist. They freeze well, so it is worth making a batch on a slow weekend morning. A common mistake is baking them until golden; molletes should come out pale and soft, with only a faint blush of colour. Chef's tip: bake them at the very top heat for only about 10 minutes; if they brown, they have gone too long and will be crusty rather than soft.

42 min

Spanish Breads & Parathas

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Tortas de aceite sevillanas

Castilleja de la Cuesta, just west of Seville, has made these hand-pressed tortas for well over a century, and across Andalusia they are dunked into morning coffee or eaten as an afternoon snack. The dough is little more than flour, olive oil infused with anise and sesame, and a pinch of yeast, rolled until you can almost see through it and baked with a crust of sugar. Chef's tip: roll each torta directly on the baking paper you will bake it on; the dough is too thin to lift without tearing.

45 min

Spanish Baking

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Pestiños

When Holy Week and Christmas come round, convent turnstiles and village kitchens from Cádiz to Granada fill trays with pestiños: little folded parcels of dough flavoured with sesame, anise and orange, fried until crisp and blistered and then dipped in honey. The dough traditionally takes a splash of white wine, which makes it bubble and crunch; orange juice works too, and is the alcohol-free option in the list. A common mistake is frying them in oil that is too hot, which browns the outside before the folds of dough cook through and crisp. Chef's tip: roll the dough really thin; thick pestiños stay doughy in the middle and soak up oil.

70 min

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Tortillitas de camarones

Around the Bay of Cádiz, especially in San Fernando and Sanlúcar de Barrameda, tortillitas de camarones are fried to order in bars and eaten with fingers: thin, lacy fritters of chickpea flour, spring onion and parsley studded with tiny whole shrimp. The local camarones are eaten shell and all; outside the bay, small raw peeled prawns, roughly chopped, work well. The batter must be as thin as single cream, so it spreads into a crisp lace in the oil. Chef's tip: keep the batter in the fridge until the last moment; cold batter hitting hot oil gives the most delicate lace.

35 min

Spanish Breakfast & Brunch

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Flamenquín cordobés

This contains pork (pork loin and serrano ham). In Córdoba, flamenquín is the bar food of choice: a long roll of thin pork loin wrapped around cured ham, crumbed and fried, then sliced and served with chips and mayonnaise. Locals argue over the name, but agree on the order: plenty of chips and something cold to drink, usually at lunch. Chef's tip: chill the crumbed rolls for 30 minutes before frying; the coating sets and stays on in the oil.

50 min

Spanish Meat

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Huevos a la flamenca

This contains pork (chorizo and serrano ham). Seville has served huevos a la flamenca since at least the nineteenth century, and its old taverns still bring it to the table in individual clay dishes: eggs baked on a tomato sofrito, ringed with peas, asparagus tips, slices of chorizo and ham and strips of red pepper, as colourful as a flamenco dress. It makes a fine lunch with crusty bread. Chef's tip: warm the dishes with the sofrito before adding the eggs, so the whites set quickly from below while the yolks stay soft.

45 min

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Atún encebollado

When the almadraba nets bring bluefin tuna ashore in Barbate and Zahara de los Atunes in May and June, households along the Cádiz coast make atún encebollado: chunks of tuna braised in a mountain of onions cooked down until sweet and golden, with bay, pepper and a splash of fino. Any good tuna steak works the rest of the year. This recipe uses wine; the alcohol-free option is in the ingredient note. Chef's tip: the onions take the time, the tuna does not; add it only for the last few minutes, or it turns dry and grey.

65 min

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Besugo a la donostiarra

For many San Sebastián families, Christmas Eve dinner isn't complete without a whole sea bream, roasted or grilled and finished with a refrito: hot olive oil with sliced garlic, dried chilli and a splash of vinegar poured over at the table. The traditional fish is red sea bream (besugo), but gilt-head bream works well. A common mistake is letting the garlic go dark brown, which makes the dressing bitter; take it off when it is pale gold. Chef's tip: cut a few slashes into the thick part of the fish so it cooks evenly and the dressing soaks in.

40 min