Unfortunately, well not really, we've been too busy to get online. We've been eating quite well. The good meals just keep on getting better. El Poblet in Denia was excellent and Ca'Sento here in Valencia was exceptional. If Las Rejas is as good as we remember, this is going to be a memorable week.
It was a memorable week. How could it not have been when we got to visit one of the Mecca's of western gastronomia and eat an authentic
arroz con conejo y caracoles cooked in a paella over an open fire. What could be more rewarding other than roast dodo or true bouillabaisse and I think both of those are extinct. Bragging rights in the anglophone world are ours. Judging by what's served as in Madrid, our authority may now extend into the European continent and well over the Pyrenees. It is of course a bit of intellectual snobbery. I have had some excellent slushy yellow rice with well cooked seafood masquerading as paella, that was nonetheless quite tasty, but I will wear the "I have eaten the real thing patch" on my shoulder.
Casa Paco, inland in Pinoso, (a small village north of Murcia and west of Alicante) offers several
arrozes with snails, rabbit or vegetable. There's no seafood variety offered, although it's a common variation along the coast. In the Alicante-Valencia region, Paella Valenciana refers to what are apparently the original versions without seafood, although Paco Gandia doesn't use the name "paella" at all on his short menu. At Casa Paco, a paella pan serving two people was about two feet in diameter and the rice was piled maybe three eighths of an inch thick in the high spots when fully cooked. "Fully cooked" was pleasantly al dente. The rabbit was a very small one, chopped up and on the bone. The snails were small and in the shell. The snails added a herbaceous quality to the dish and the rabbit though small was very tasty and nicely browned. I suspect the smoke from the open fires we saw though the kitchen doors added to the flavor of the dish. The rice itself was rich moist, sticky and coated with an glaze undoubtedly as a result of the combination of olive olive and the unctuous quality of the snails.
At lunch the next day, a
paella de mariscos on the coast, brought us a pan too full of rice that was nonetheless delicious, but too much to eat and of a lesser texture. The seafood was also a bit overcooked, leading us to the premature prejudice that
paella de mariscos is for the tourists. Perhaps not, but the other table having paella was having
paella a banda, which is just the rice cooked in an intense seafood broth with perhaps bits of squid and seafood. It is cooked so the outer ring of rice is a darker color then the central circle of rice. This may well be the preferred local way of having seafood rice. Perhaps someone with more experience with paella will expound.
After looking at the menu in Casa Paco, we were still pretty much helpless about what else, or how much more, we should order and put ourselves in the hands of our amiable host who suggested some broiled snails and a salad. The snails, a local treat, were an obvious choice. Although I enjoyed their texture more in context with the rice and rabbit, I was glad for the opportunity to try them alone. The salad wasn't memorable, but it was an excellent choice considering the starch and protein to follow.
For dessert, Mrs. B had a
sorbete de cava which turned out to be kind of a lemon wine milkshake. I had a
tarta de Santiago—an almond cake traditional to Galicia in the opposite corner of Spain from where we were—that is a favorite of mine. My tarta was okay. I assume Mrs. B's dessert was excellent. After a good portion of rice, this Atkins fan made no effort to share her dessert.
Coffee was outstanding. We had short shots that were richly chocolatey as I find in the best Spanish coffee. On the whole, the coffee on this trip was not as rich as I recall from previous trips. I wonder if the coffee is better in the north of Spain.
My expectations of Casa Paco were vague. I suppose I imagined a largish informal and rustic hall with openings to an outdoor area where the rice was cooked over open fires in a rural area apart from other buildings. I was pretty far off the mark except that the paellas were cooked over an open fire, but in a kitchen on a shelf at counter height in a large fireplace. The restaurant, which had tables enough to serve maybe 30 people at most, was a small room in a small town, but in a town in which the low buildings were attached to one another.
Paco Gandia's reputation preceded him so it's worthwhile reporting Mrs. B's conversation with our charming and friendly host who neither said he was, or wasn't, Paco himself. Upon leaving, Mrs. B said she assumed he was not Paco, and in rely to his question continued that it was because he was so amiable and that she heard that Paco was a grouch. She was told that it was only in response to people who arrived with an attitude, wanting him to change his ways. This is a familiar refrain from chefs and restaurateurs. For the record, an online review depicted the only two people we saw serving as Pace Gandia and his wife. I don't know what that says about us, but I guess it's just a case of like people getting along. We were charmed by Paco and Casa Paco with perhaps one exception. It seems a bit expensive, especially considering it's location and style. Maybe it's just that wines I recognized seemed about 15-20% higher here and after choosing three wines at 30 euros that were not in stock, our host recommended a wine that turned out to cost 40 euros.
