Still Discovering Spain...

If there is one culinary test that separates an ordinary Spanish kitchen from an exceptional one, it is the quality of its croquettes (croquetas). Whether you are grazing along a seaside promenade in Cádiz, celebrating a festive gathering with Spanish neighbours, or scouring your local neighbourhood market for dinner inspiration, a plate of piping-hot, golden croquettes is a national obsession.

While cured ham (jamón) and shredded chicken often dominate the tavern chalkboards, croquetas de gambas (prawn croquettes) represent the ultimate luxury tier. They are sweet, deeply savoury, and packed with the intense briny sweetness of fresh shellfish. Yet amateur cooks often end up with bland, pasty rolls that lack character.

The secret to restaurant-grade prawn croquettes isn't complicated kitchen gadgetry—it boils down to two golden rules passed down through generations of Spanish home cooks: infusing the milk with the prawn shells and sticking to the golden ratio of 100 grams of flour to one litre of milk for that elusive, molten-lava centre.

The Science of the "Golden Ratio" Béchamel

Ask any British newcomer what makes up a croquette, and they will almost certainly mention mashed potatoes. But as any seasoned expat knows, authentic Spanish croquettes contain zero potato. Their silky foundation relies entirely on a rich, patient béchamel sauce.

In Spanish gastronomic circles—popularised by celebrity chef Alberto Chicote and traditional grandmothers alike—the definitive balance for a truly melt-in-the-mouth croquette is: 100g Wheat Flour + 1 Litre Infused Whole Milk = The Perfect Molten Centre. Too much flour leaves you with dense, rubbery cylinders; too little, and the croquettes disintegrate into a messy soup the moment they hit hot oil. Sticking to this balance ensures a crisp shell that yields effortlessly to an oozing, velvety filling.

The Pro-Tip: Shell-Infused "Liquid Gold"

The biggest mistake made in foreign kitchens is using bland, pre-cooked, peeled prawns and plain cold milk. When you discard the heads and shells, you are throwing away roughly 80% of the natural seafood flavour.

Cooking Pro-Tip: Always buy shell-on, head-on raw prawns (gambas enteras) from your local fishmonger (pescadería) or supermarket wet counter. By gently frying the heads and shells in olive oil, you extract their fragrant reddish oils. When you subsequently steep those shells in hot whole milk, the milk acts as a sponge, taking on a subtle blush colour and a profound seafood depth that carries straight into the béchamel.

The Shopping List & Prerequisites

You can pick up all the ingredients for a batch of 30 generous croquettes for roughly €6.00 to €8.00 (approx. £5.20–£6.90) at your local Mercadona, Consum, or town hall market.

The Filling

• 250g raw prawns in shell (gambas enteras con piel y cabeza)

• 1 litre whole milk (leche entera)

• 100g plain wheat flour (harina de trigo)

• 50g unsalted butter

• 50g extra virgin olive oil (EVOO)

• ½ medium brown onion, very finely minced

• 1 garlic clove, finely minced

• A pinch of freshly ground nutmeg, sea salt, and black pepper to taste

The Three-Stage Coating & Frying

• 2 large eggs, beaten with a tiny pinch of salt

• Plain flour (spread across a shallow dish)

• Fine dry breadcrumbs (pan rallado, spread on a separate plate)

• Sunflower or mild olive oil for deep frying

1. Extract the Shell Essence

Peel the prawns. Finely dice the raw prawn meat, pop it into a small bowl, and store it in the fridge until the very end. In a large frying pan, heat the 50g of olive oil over medium heat, add the prawn heads and shells, and fry them gently for 5 minutes, pressing down on the heads with a wooden spoon to release their rich juices.

Meanwhile, heat the litre of milk in a saucepan until it comes to a gentle simmer. Scoop the fried shells directly from the oil into the hot milk and leave them to steep over very low heat for 10 minutes. Strain the milk through a fine sieve, discarding the shells, and keep the warm, fragrant milk handy.

2. The Slow Sofrito Base

In the same frying pan—retaining the vibrant, prawn-infused olive oil—add the finely chopped onion and a pinch of salt. Cook slowly over medium-low heat for 15 to 20 minutes until meltingly soft and pale golden (do not let it burn!). Stir in the 50g of butter and the minced garlic, cooking for another minute until fragrant.

3. Cook the Roux & Build the Béchamel

Scatter the 100g of flour over the onion mixture. Cook it over medium heat for a full 8 to 10 minutes, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon or spatula. This step is critical: undercooked flour produces that unpleasant "raw dough" taste in the finished croquette.

Now switch to a balloon whisk. Slowly drizzle in the warm, prawn-infused milk in three or four gradual additions, whisking vigorously after each pour to prevent lumps. Season generously with fine sea salt, black pepper, and a grating of nutmeg. Simmer the béchamel over medium-low heat, stirring constantly, for at least 10 minutes until it thickens into a luxurious, glossy ribbon that pulls away from the edges of the pan.

4. Fold the Prawns & Chill

Fold the reserved diced prawn meat directly into the hot béchamel. Cook for just 2 minutes—the residual heat will finish cooking the delicate seafood without making it rubbery.

Pour the dough (masa) into a wide glass or ceramic dish. Press a sheet of cling film directly against the surface of the dough to prevent a tough skin from forming. Once cooled to room temperature, transfer the dish to the fridge and chill overnight (or for a minimum of 6 hours).

5. Shape, Coat, and Fry

Line up three wide bowls: one with flour, one with beaten egg, and one with breadcrumbs.

Take the cold, firm dough and shape individual portions using two soup spoons (or lightly floured hands) into traditional oval cylinders.

1. Roll each piece lightly in flour (shaking off any excess).

2. Submerge in beaten egg.

3. Roll thoroughly in breadcrumbs, pressing gently to form a complete, airtight seal around the edges

Freezer Hack: Once crumbed, place the croquettes onto a baking tray lined with greaseproof paper and freeze for 30 minutes before frying. Chilling them fully ensures the exterior seals quickly in hot oil before the creamy interior has a chance to burst open! You can also bag them and freeze them for up to three months.

Heat plenty of oil in a deep frying pan or fryer to 180°C. Fry the croquettes in small batches (no more than 4 or 5 at a time so the oil temperature doesn't drop) for 2 to 3 minutes until crisp and golden brown. Drain on kitchen paper and serve hot.

Do you know the history of your town? And no, I am not referring to recent history that has occurred in recent decades. By history, I mean centuries ago, a time when important population movements took place, mainly due to armed conflicts that occurred everywhere. If you live in Europe, quite possibly hundreds of years ago, the place you are stepping on was part of the battlefield of some war. The conquering desire of Spain or France, among others, can be seen with an interactive map.

After an intense collection of data, it has been possible to position some of the war events, of which there is evidence, with different colour markers. It is an exercise that aims to understand what has brought us here, our customs, the way we relate to each other and, of course, our relationship with our neighbours. After all, violence, unfortunately, has always been part of most communities. An interactive map can help us better understand what happened in history.

Let's see, therefore, how the various civilizations have developed after conflicts, why these events caused important changes in many societies and, of course, to what extent there are spaces of land which still have never been part of a battlefield. Even so, it is possible that, in the latter case, there was no documentation that corroborated these facts.

The Map of the geography of violence allows filtering by localities and municipalities in order to understand if they have been the target of a battlefield or if, on the contrary, peace has always been mediated. It is about carrying out an exercise to understand how modern day society is what it is today based on what happened in the past. If you take a look at the first events that occurred, you come to the conclusion that the first serious conflicts took place in Europe.

This caused armies to continually improve their equipment, allowing them to formalise new lines of conquest. Could it be one of the causes of the expansion of the Spanish army in areas like America? The establishment of colonies by France or Great Britain also explains this type of proposal. Well, why is this interactive map worth it? Among its curiosities, the links to web pages of information to learn more about the events that occurred at a given time and place are surprising.

It is a very interesting way to understand how history has changed people around the world. In addition, it is worth noting how the vast majority of records are present in Europe, with the first wars appearing on other continents many years after these conflicts. It is a history exercise that, on the other hand, stopped being updated in 2016. For this reason, conflicts such as the one in Ukraine and Russia, corresponding to this 2022, do not appear in the interactive database yet.

Finally, it is important to take into account the range of colours present on the map. This refers to elapsed time. It is not the first time we see this kind of map. Did you know that there is one where you can find out who is the most famous person in a certain place? Not to mention the one that shows what the most characteristic stereotypes are of a specific area in a city.

In the proud tradition of such colossal Christs such as the Christ of the Ozarks and the Christ of Vung Tau, in Palencia, Spain's Cristo del Otero (Christ of the Knoll) is a huge stone messiah that looks out over the city in benevolence and supplication; however, the harsh modern style of this statue is far more frightening than enlightening.

Built in 1931 by famed local sculptor, Victorio Macho, the giant Jesus was inspired by brutalist art deco lines and sharp modern angles. The saviour's face is sunken in and as opposed to the more standard pose of open-armed acceptance (which also mirrors the crucifix), Macho's figure has his hands up in almost halting motion, either displaying his stigmata or in a signal of caution. The odd pose is a result of a compromise meant to make the entire statue lighter. Other than the stark forms, the figure is largely free of decoration save for a lightly etched sacred heart on his chest.

Though the most striking feature of the Christ is his hollow eyes. Staring like bottomless pits, the eye sockets were originally supposed to be filled with ivory and marble, but in yet another budgetary compromise they were simply converted into windows. However, from the exterior they tend to simply look empty.

Despite the strange design of the Christ figure, it is still one of the tallest of its kind in the world topping out at over 70 feet tall.  The Cristo del Otero is also beloved by the city over which it watches, acting as a symbol of Palencia. The base of the statue also features a museum to the statue's history and Macho's works in and around Palencia.

Victorio Macho was born into a family of modest means in Palencia, Spain in 1887. His parents enrolled him in the school of Fine Arts and Crafts of Santander, where he learned to sculpt. In 1903, at the age of 16, he moved to Madrid continuing his studies at the Academy of Fine Arts of San Fernando. He first became famous with a monument to Galdós. It is a consecrated from his exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art, 1921.

He left Spain during the dictatorship of Primo de Rivera and went to live in Hendaye, just over the border in the Basque region of France. He sculpted monuments for Unamuno and Ramón y Cajal. In 1936 he was elected into the Academy of Fine Arts of San Fernando. The outcome of the Spanish Civil War pushed him to exile in France, Russia, and finally to America. After living six months in Colombia, he began an extended stay in Lima in Peru, where he married Zoila Barrós Conti. He finally returned to Spain in 1952.

He established his home and workshop in Toledo in central Spain. Since 1967 this same building houses the Victorio Macho Museum, created from Zoila's generous donation to the Spanish State. The name of the house is Tarpeian Rock.

In 1964 he received the Grand Cross of the Order of Isabel la Católica. He died in Toledo on July 13, 1966, and his remains were returned to Palencia, the city of his birth. He was buried at the foot of his Cristo del Otero.

Ask anyone in Britain why they swapped the drizzle for a Spanish postcode, and the answer is almost unanimous: reliable, golden sunshine. But if you have spent significant time living in Spain over recent years, you will know that the climate conversation over a morning café con leche has turned considerably more anxious.

The weather is no longer just comfortably warm; it is becoming erratic, extreme, and fraught with environmental consequences. Official data from the State Meteorological Agency (AEMET) and the Ministry of Environment highlights a worrying pattern of climatic whiplash.

Between relentless summer heatwaves that refuse to dip below 25°C at night, superheated coastal waters, and flash flooding that does nothing to alleviate parched reservoirs, Spain is confronting a quiet crisis: over 70% of the country’s territory is now classified as arid, semi-arid, or dry sub-humid, putting vast swathes of the peninsula at direct risk of desertification.

Recent summers have shattered historical baselines across the country. Far from being confined to traditional southern furnace-boxes like Seville or Córdoba, intense heat anomalies of two to four degrees Celsius above seasonal averages have routinely baked cooler northern havens such as Galicia, Castilla y León, and Extremadura.

For months on end, daytime peaks consistently surpass 40°C, but the real strain on everyday living happens after sundown. Prolonged marine heatwaves—with Mediterranean waters climbing past 31°C to 33°C—act like a massive thermal battery.

This superheated sea prevents coastal air from cooling overnight, locking towns and cities into relentless runs of "tropical nights" (where the mercury never drops below 20°C) and even "torrid nights" (remaining above 25°C). Aside from disrupting sleep, this pattern sends household electricity bills rocketing as air-conditioning units run around the clock.

Torrential Floods Cannot Fix Bone-Dry Droughts

One of the greatest misconceptions among newcomers is that a massive autumn downpour will replenish the local water table. In reality, Spanish weather has entered a destructive cycle of two extremes:

When torrential rain lands on soil that has baked dry for six months, the water simply washes over the surface. It causes devastating flash floods, triggers soil erosion, and strips away precious topsoil, but it barely penetrates down to replenish deep aquifers or fill reservoirs.

According to environmental ministry records, drought conditions regularly leave dozens of agricultural regions in official emergency status, even directly following catastrophic autumn cloudbursts.

70% at Risk: Where Desertification Is Striking Hardest

Desertification is not merely the appearance of picturesque Sahara-style dunes; it is the permanent biological degradation of the soil. As fertility vanishes, vegetation fails to regenerate, water retention drops to zero, and the local microclimate turns irrevocably harsher.

• Andalusia: Experiencing intensive agricultural water demand and severe drought cycles. Aquifers are over-tapped, leaving interior olive and citrus groves parched.

• Murcia & Almería: Defined by hyper-arid microclimates and proximity to the Tabernas desert. Confronting accelerating soil salinisation and an extreme dependency on desalination and river transfers.

• Castilla-La Mancha: Subject to high-altitude continental baking and dry river basins. Historic wetlands (such as the Tablas de Daimiel) face ongoing depletion alongside widespread erosion of cereal plains.

• Extremadura: Hit by extended heatwaves and wildfire depletion. Traditional pasturelands (dehesas) and grazing soils are showing visible signs of structural degradation.

This degradation is heavily compounded by rural depopulation. As younger generations leave rural villages (la España vaciada) for coastal capitals and urban centres, traditional land stewardship—such as terrace maintenance, dry-stone clearing, and managed livestock grazing—disappears. Without active human care or natural ground cover, empty inland topsoil simply blows or washes away.

If you own a Spanish home or are hunting for a property on the Costas or in the interior, climate realities need to feature directly in your long-term planning:

• Audit Your Water Security: If you are buying a country villa (finca) reliant on a private well or shared community borehole, do not rely on historic assurances. Water tables across the south and east are dropping rapidly. Ensure properties have verified legal water connections or adequate rainwater harvesting cisterns (aljibes).

• Embrace Water-Wise Landscaping: Lush English lawns are a relic of the past in Spain. Water restrictions on swimming pools and garden irrigation are becoming standard municipal tools during dry spells. Transitioning gardens to Mediterranean xeriscaping—using native lavender, rosemary, bougainvillaea, and olive trees—cuts maintenance headaches and preserves scarce supplies.

• Invest in Passive Cooling: Relying solely on electricity-hungry air conditioners is costly. External solar blinds (toldos), traditional wooden window shutters (persianas), cross-ventilation design, and roof insulation provide sustainable protection against the rising frequency of 40°C summer days.

Understanding these shifting weather patterns is vital for anyone investing in the Spanish dream. While the country's warmth and outdoor lifestyle remain as captivating as ever, rising temperatures, erratic rains, and expanding arid zones demand a more practical approach to homeownership. Those who adapt their properties with sensible cooling, water-wise landscaping, and secure utilities will ensure their slice of the peninsula stays comfortable, sustainable, and protected for decades to come.

Foreign visitors sitting down at a traditional Spanish tapas bar or family restaurant are often quick to spot a local favourite that looks reassuringly familiar. Golden, crunchy on the outside, and oozing with melted cheese and savoury ham on the inside, the San Jacobo is frequently dismissed as Spain's simple equivalent to the French cordon bleu or the Austrian schnitzel.

Yet reducing this beloved comfort classic to a mere copycat is to miss centuries of culinary history. Rooted in the legendary paths of northern Spain, the true San Jacobo carries a heritage as rich as its golden, crispy crust.

The Legend of the Camino de Santiago

While culinary historians debate its exact modern evolution, local folklore ties the name directly to the Camino de Santiago (the Way of St. James)—Jacobo being the traditional Spanish variant of James.

According to historical food lore, when weary pilgrims completed their gruelling trek across northern Spain to reach the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, rural hostelries along the route would reward them with a special, high-energy luxury dish. Packing protein, melting cheese, and savoury ham into a portable, satisfying parcel provided the ultimate caloric recovery for travellers who had endured weeks on the road.

The Shopping List & Prerequisites

You can easily recreate authentic Spanish San Jacobos at home using basic supermarket ingredients.

Ingredients (Makes 8 portions)

• 8 to 16 slices of regular cooked ham (jamón cocido): Depending on whether you use large round slices cut in half or square sandwich slices.

• 8 slices of melting cheese: Gouda, Emmental, or mild local cow's cheese work best.

• 2 large eggs: Beaten with a pinch of salt.

• Wheat flour: Spread across a flat plate for the first coating.

• Fine breadcrumbs (pan rallado): Spread across a second flat plate.

• Extra virgin olive oil or mild sunflower oil: For frying.

Step-by-Step Preparation Logic

1. Assemble the Layers: Take a slice of ham (or two square slices arranged side by side) and place a slice of melting cheese in the centre. Fold or cover the cheese with the remaining ham to create a sealed "book" or sandwich, ensuring the cheese doesn't peek out of the edges.

2. The Flour Barrier: Roll each ham-and-cheese parcel lightly in the wheat flour, shaking off any excess. Crucial Tip: Never skip the flour! It acts as a vital bonding agent that ensures the egg sticks evenly to the meat.

3. The Egg Bath: Dip each floured parcel into the beaten eggs, ensuring both sides are thoroughly soaked.

4. The Breadcrumb Seal: Transfer the parcel into the breadcrumbs, pressing down firmly and paying special attention to seal the edges completely so the cheese stays locked inside during cooking.

5. Fry to Golden Perfection: Heat a generous layer of oil in a frying pan over medium-high heat. Fry the San Jacobos for roughly 1 to 2 minutes per side, until the breadcrumbs turn a deep, crispy golden-brown.

6. Drain and Serve: Transfer them immediately to a plate lined with kitchen paper to absorb any excess oil, and serve piping hot alongside a fresh green salad or classic French fries.

If you have spent any time sitting on a sun-drenched terrace in Spain, you will know that the humble plate of cured ham is practically a cultural institution. Yet for many newly arrived expats and holidaymakers, navigating the local jamón menu can be deeply bewildering.

You can walk into a local neighbourhood bar (bar de barrio) and order a generous plate of cured ham for just £5.00, only to sit down at a high-end restaurant down the road and watch a waiter slice up a translucent, marbled masterpiece that costs upwards of £25.00 to £35.00 for a single plate.

So, what exactly justifies the astronomical price gap? The secret, as seasoned food lovers across Spain will tell you, lies entirely in the breed, the curing time, and—most importantly—what the pig was having for dinner.

Jamón Serrano vs. Jamón Ibérico: The Great Divide

To understand Spanish ham pricing, you first have to separate the two major families of cured ham on the market. They stem from entirely different worlds of farming, breeding, and agricultural tradition.

• Jamón Serrano (Mountain Ham): Accounting for the vast majority of ham consumed daily across Spain, Serrano comes from white-coated pigs (such as Duroc or Large White breeds) raised on standard grain diets in intensive farming setups. It is cured in mountain air for roughly 12 to 18 months, resulting in a lean, savoury, highly accessible ham that is a staple of everyday tapas and bocadillos.

• Jamón Ibérico (The Black-Footed King): This is Spain’s crown culinary jewel. Sourced exclusively from the native black Iberian pig (perdiz ibérica), these animals roam the ancient oak pastures (dehesas) of southwestern Spain. Their muscles develop rich marbling, and their diet dictates the final, legendary tier of quality.

It’s All in the Acorns: Decoding the Label System

If you want to know why a top-tier Jamón Ibérico can cost over £500 to £800 for an entire leg (or command staggering restaurant prices), you have to look at the colour-coded plastic tags mandated by Spanish law. Not all Iberian hams are created equal:

• The Black Label (100% Ibérico de Bellota): The undisputed monarch of hams. These pure-bred Iberian pigs spend their final months roaming freely through the oak forests during the montanera (acorn-season), gorging exclusively on fallen acorns (bellotas) and natural grasses. This acorn diet infuses the fat with oleic acid (the same healthy fat found in olive oil), causing the ham to literally melt at body temperature on your tongue.

• The Red Label (Ibérico de Bellota): Cross-bred Iberian pigs (usually 50% or 75% Iberian lineage) that also finished their lives feeding on acorns in the pastures.

• The Green Label (Ibérico de Cebo de Campo): Free-range Iberian pigs fed on a combination of natural field grasses and high-grade compound feed.

• The White Label (Ibérico de Cebo): Iberian pigs raised in indoor feedlots on standard grain diets.

The Art of the Slice: Why Technique Matters

Price isn't just about the pig; it is also about the person holding the knife. In Spain, professional ham carving (cortador de jamón) is treated almost like a martial art.

A master cortador knows how to navigate the complex fat-to-meat ratios of an Iberian leg, producing paper-thin, bite-sized ribbons that release the maximum amount of flavour. Cutting it too thick destroys the delicate melt-in-the-mouth texture; cutting it too thin robs the palate of its deep, nutty complexity.

Whether you are enjoying a casual plate of Serrano with your morning café con leche or indulging in a celebratory plate of 100% Bellota paired with a bold Rioja, Spain's cured ham remains one of the greatest culinary triumphs on the planet.

During the iron age, what is now the Tiermes Archaeological Site was a Celtiberian hill fort that was initially capable of resisting an assault by the Roman invaders.

The tribe occupying the site were allied to the Numantia tribe during the second century BC. In 98 BC, with the Numantia already overcome, Tiermes was captured by the Roman consul Titus Didius, beginning the slow but sure Romanisation of Tiermes.

The urbanisation of the area accelerated around 70 BC, and by the end of the first century, the city reached the height of its splendour. As you can see at the site today, it once boasted large public buildings, two fora, an aqueduct, and extensive urban development. Uniquely, these buildings were carved directly into the sandstone bluffs—an earlier Celtiberian practice but with Roman architecture covering the open frontages.

A city wall was later built, and Tiermes remained in use until the 4th century after the decline of the Western Roman Empire. Today a number of archaeological remains can be seen, including an amazing water supply system that would have been capable of carrying 71 litres per second. There is also a small number of archaeological artefacts from the Visigoth and Muslim periods of the site that followed the Roman occupation.

When summer temperatures in Spain climb into the high 30s and 40s, standard home cooking changes completely. The thought of heating up the kitchen with an oven or standing over a boiling pan becomes a non-starter.

While everyone knows about classic cooling staples like standard tomato gazpacho, Spain’s regional cuisine contains plenty of alternative, refreshing dishes that focus on high hydration, clever vegetable combinations, and minimal prep time. Here are three versions:

1. Chilled Carrot and Orange Soup

1. Chilled Carrot and Orange Soup

A vibrant, silky alternative to gazpacho that utilizes the natural sweetness of root vegetables balanced by bright citrus acidity.

The Shopping List

• 500g fresh carrots, peeled and sliced into rounds

• 2 large juice oranges, freshly squeezed

• 1 small white onion, finely chopped

• 1 clove of garlic, minced

• 1 small piece (approx. 1cm) of fresh ginger, peeled and grated

• 500ml light vegetable stock

• 3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

• Coarse sea salt and cracked black pepper to taste

• Optional garnish: Fresh mint leaves or a swirl of coconut milk

Step-by-Step Instructions

1. Sauté the Aromatics:5 mins.

Heat 1 tablespoon of extra virgin olive oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add the chopped onion, garlic, and grated ginger. Sauté for about 5 minutes until the onion is soft and translucent, ensuring the garlic doesn't burn.

2. Simmer the Carrots:15-20 mins.

Add the sliced carrots and pour in the 500ml of vegetable stock. Bring the mixture to a boil, then reduce the heat to low, cover the pan, and simmer for 15 to 20 minutes, or until the carrots are completely fork-tender.

3. Blend and Emulsify:5 mins.

Remove the saucepan from the heat and let it cool slightly. Transfer everything into a high-powered blender. Pour in the freshly squeezed orange juice and the remaining 2 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil. Blend on high until the soup is completely smooth, glossy, and velvet-like. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

4. Chill Thoroughly: Minimum 3 hours.

Pour the soup into a glass jug or bowl, cover, and place it in the refrigerator for at least 3 hours (ideally overnight) until ice-cold. Serve in chilled bowls, optionally garnished with a few fresh mint leaves.

2. Andalusian Papas Aliñás (Marinated Potatoes)

The Shopping List

• 1 kg whole potatoes (preferably a waxy variety like Monalisa)

• 1 large spring onion (cebolleta), very finely sliced

• 1 small green bell pepper, finely diced

• 2 tins (approx. 160g total) of high-quality white tuna in olive oil (bonito del norte)

• 2 large eggs

• 100ml high-quality extra virgin olive oil (mild and fruity)

• 3-4 tbsp Sherry vinegar (vinagre de Jerez)

• Generous pinch of coarse sea salt

• A handful of fresh flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped

Step-by-Step Instructions

1. Boil the Potatoes and Eggs:25-30 mins.

Place the whole, unpeeled potatoes in a large pot of salted cold water. Bring to a boil and cook for 20-25 minutes until tender all the way through. In a separate small pot, hard-boil the two eggs (about 9 minutes), then cool them in ice water, peel, and set aside.

2. The Warm-Dressing Secret:5 mins.

As soon as the potatoes are cool enough to handle but still notably hot, peel off the skins. Cut them into thick, rustic chunks directly into your serving bowl. Immediately sprinkle with coarse sea salt and pour over the Sherry vinegar and extra virgin olive oil. Toss gently—the hot starches will absorb the dressing deep into the core like a sponge.

3. Incorporate the Crunch:5 mins.

Add the finely sliced spring onion and diced green pepper directly to the warm potatoes. The residual heat will slightly soften the raw bite of the onion while preserving its fresh crunch.

4. Finish and Rest: Cooling time.

Flake the canned tuna over the top and gently fold it in so it stays in distinct pieces. Garnish with the hard-boiled eggs cut into quarters and a heavy scatter of fresh parsley. Let the dish sit at room temperature for an hour to let the flavours marry, or chill slightly before serving with crunchy breadsticks (picos).

3. Crisp Courgette Spaghetti with Salmon

The Shopping List

• 2 medium firm courgettes, unpeeled

• 150g high-quality smoked salmon, torn into delicate ribbons

• 1 tbsp capers, drained

• Juice and zest of half an organic lemon

• 2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

• 1 clove of garlic, lightly crushed but left whole

• A small bunch of fresh dill, finely chopped

• Salt and freshly cracked black pepper to taste

Step-by-Step Instructions

1. Create the Vegetable Strands:5 mins.

Wash and dry the courgettes. Using a spiralizer or a standard julienne vegetable peeler, cut the courgettes lengthwise into long, thin spaghetti-like strands. Stop when you reach the spongy, seed-heavy core (save it for vegetable stock later). Place the strands on kitchen paper to absorb excess moisture on the surface.

2. Infuse the Frying Oil:2 mins.

In a wide frying pan or wok, heat 2 tablespoons of extra-virgin olive oil over medium-high heat. Drop in the crushed whole garlic clove. Let it sizzle gently for a minute or two until it turns golden brown, infusing the oil with aroma, then discard the garlic clove entirely.

3. Flash-Sauté the Strands:60 seconds max.

Toss the courgette strands into the hot garlic-infused oil. Sauté them vigorously using tongs for no more than 60 seconds. You want them to just catch the heat and warm through while remaining completely bright green and al dente. Remove from the heat immediately to prevent them from releasing water and turning soggy.

4. Assemble and Serve:2 mins.

Transfer the warm courgette strands to your serving plates. Scatter the torn smoked salmon ribbons and capers over the top. Drizzle with fresh lemon juice, dust with lemon zest, and scatter with chopped fresh dill. Finish with a final crack of black pepper and serve immediately while fresh.

Are you going to give the warm-dressed Papas Aliñás a spin this weekend, or does the ice-cold Carrot and Orange soup sound like the perfect antidote to the afternoon heat? Let us know how your kitchen prep goes below!

Sundays in Spain belong to a single, sacred ritual: family and friends gathering around a large, shallow pan to share a freshly simmered dish of rice.  

While international tourist traps have spent decades pushing the idea that a paella must be piled high with chicken, rabbit, or king prawns, locals know a different secret. One of the country's absolute finest variations contains no meat or seafood at all. The Paella de Verduras (Vegetable Paella) is a true masterclass in maximising the natural sugars and earthy depths of local garden produce.

Instead of relying on heavy animal fats for flavour, a great vegetable paella challenges the cook to build a rich, savoury foundation entirely out of aromatic roots, wild mushrooms, and a slow-simmered vegetable stock.

The Anatomy of the Perfect Veggie Base

The ultimate downfall of a subpar vegetable paella is a lack of depth. Without meat bones or shrimp shells to enrich the liquid, you have to extract flavour through a highly deliberate, layered cooking technique.

The process begins with the sofrito—the aromatic baseline of Spanish cooking. Finely diced onions and green bell peppers are gently fried in a generous ladle of high-quality extra-virgin olive oil for a full 20 minutes over medium heat. This long, patient sauté is non-negotiable; it coaxes out the vegetables' natural sugars until they melt into a sweet, rich paste.  

Only then do you stir in minced garlic, grated fresh ripe tomatoes, and a heavy dust of pimentón dulce (Spanish sweet paprika), flash-frying it just long enough to activate the spices without burning them.

Choosing Your Garden Inventory

The brilliance of a vegetable paella is its versatility, adapting easily to whatever is freshest in the local market. However, certain structural vegetables provide an essential contrast in textures and flavour profiles:

Earthy Umami: Quartered mushrooms (such as white button, cremini, or wild oyster varieties) are added directly into the hot sofrito, absorbing the aromatic oil and releasing a deep, savoury juice that mimics the richness of meat.

The Crunch & Colour: Flat green beans, tender broccoli florets, and fresh artichoke hearts split completely down the middle are added immediately after the boiling stock is poured. They simmer directly on top of the cooking rice, steaming to a perfect tender-crisp finish.  

The Starches: Traditional variations frequently incorporate large, buttery garrofó beans (lima beans) to add a creamy, substantial bite that balances the short-grain rice.  

3 Golden Rules for Cooking the Rice
Once your ingredients are assembled in the paellero (the traditional wide, flat pan), the execution requires strict restraint. To ensure your rice turns out perfectly dry and loose rather than a sticky, overcooked porridge, commit these three rules to memory:

Trust the Liquid Ratio: For a classic, dry Spanish rice dish, you want a strict 1-to-2 ratio of rice to high-quality vegetable stock (e.g., 400 grams of short-grain rice to roughly 1 litre of broth). If you prefer your rice with a slightly juicier, wetter bite, push the ratio closer to 1-to-3.

Step Away From the Spoon: The single biggest mistake home cooks make is stirring the pan like a risotto. Once the boiling vegetable stock is poured over the rice and the grains are spread into an even layer, do not touch it again. Stirring releases amylose starch from the grains, turning the dish uncomfortably gummy. Let it boil completely undisturbed over medium heat for 16 to 20 minutes.  

The Silent Rest: When the liquid has been fully absorbed, and the rice is just al dente, pull the pan off the heat entirely. Throw a clean kitchen towel over the top and let it rest for 10 minutes. This traps the residual steam, settling the starches and allowing the complex, smoky flavours of the saffron, paprika, and garden vegetables to completely meld together.  

Serve your finished masterpiece family-style right out of the pan, accompanied by plenty of fresh lemon wedges and a generous bowl of homemade, punchy alioli (garlic mayonnaise) to fold into the hot grains.

Food in Spain is never just about fuel; it is a map of geography, climate, and centuries of inherited human patience. When walking into a local indoor market or browsing a restaurant menu, certain geographical stamps stand out: D.O.P. (Denominación de Origen Protegida) or I.G.P. (Indicación Geográfica Protegida).

These are not marketing gimmicks. Backed by the European Union and national legal frameworks, these protected designations guarantee that a product was grown, harvested, and cured in a specific region using traditional, tightly regulated methods. Currently, more than 200 Spanish food and wine products hold this prestigious status, proving that true luxury lies in absolute transparency and geographic identity.

For anyone looking to understand the culinary diversity of the Iberian Peninsula, here is a breakdown of the essential designations of origin that define the true flavour of Spain.

The Foundations: Wine & Oil

The bedrock of the Spanish pantry rests on its olive trees and ancient vineyards. The regulatory boards ensure that weather, soil chemistry (terroir), and grape variants stay consistent.

• Rioja (D.O.Ca.): The undisputed classic. Spanning regions across La Rioja, the Basque Country, and Navarre, these velvety red wines are famed for their oak-aged complexity, relying heavily on the native Tempranillo grape.

• Ribera del Duero (D.O.): Cultivated on expansive high-altitude vineyards along the Duero River ( Burgos, Valladolid, Segovia, and Soria), these red wines are unmistakable for their robust structure and vibrant fruit-forward notes.

• Andalusia’s Liquid Gold: From Baena to Estepa, southern Spain features dozens of Extra Virgin Olive Oil D.O.P. zones. They regulate harvest methods to ensure acidity levels stay exceptionally low, locking in fresh, peppery, and grassy notes.

Cured Mastery: Jabugo Iberian Ham

Perhaps Spain’s most globally recognised foodstuff, Jabugo Iberian Ham (D.O.P.) springs from the microclimates of the Sierra de Aracena and Aroche Peaks in the province of Huelva, Andalusia.

The strict rules state the 100% purebred Iberian pigs must spend their final months roaming free in oak pastures (dehesas), gorging exclusively on sweet acorns (bellotas). The natural oleic acid in the acorns infiltrates the meat fat. When cured slowly in mountain air, it yields a light, delicate texture and a slightly nutty flavor that literally melts at room temperature.

The Artisanal Cheese Landscape

Spain’s distinct geographic contrasts—from the rainy, emerald-green northern coastlines to the arid central plains—give rise to distinct cheese traditions.

Essential Kitchen Staples

1. Valencian Rice (D.O.)

Any discussion of Spain’s national dishes inevitably leads to Valencia. While disputes rage over what ingredients belong in a true paella, chefs agree on one absolute rule: it must use Valencian Rice. Cultivated in the wetlands surrounding the Albufera natural park, the specific varieties—Bomba, Albufera, and Senia—are bred to absorb up to three times their volume in rich broth without breaking down or losing their structural bite.

2. Piquillo Peppers from Lodosa (D.O.P.)

Cultivated across eight specific regions in Navarre, the Piquillo pepper of Lodosa is affectionately dubbed the red gold of Navarre. These deep-red, sweet, and smoky peppers are meticulously hand-harvested, roasted over open flames, and peeled by hand without touching water, preserving their concentrated natural juices before being tinned.

3. Asturian Cider (D.O.P.)

In the far north, grapes give way to nearly one thousand hectares of protected apple orchards. Asturian cider is entirely natural, utilising native bittersweet apples with zero added sugar or gas. Its cultural importance is so rooted that the act of serving it—poured from arm's length above the head into a wide glass to naturally aerate the liquid—is protected as part of the nation's intangible cultural heritage.

The system of Designations of Origin is a promise to the consumer. It proves that despite the pressures of industrial, globalised farming, a community has chosen to preserve their history, their land, and their culinary integrity. Seeking out these logos on your next trip to the market isn't just about choosing high quality—it's about tasting the literal essence of a specific Spanish hillside, pasture, or valley.