Showing posts with label shrimp. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shrimp. Show all posts

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Sweet Potato Gnocchi with Roasted Tomato Shrimp Sauce

INGREDIENTS:

(for the beer)

1 12 oz. bottle (or more!) Dogfish Head Punkin' Ale

(for the gnocchi: will make about 6 servings)

3 medium sweet potatoes, roasted (you can microwave them or boil them if you really prefer, but we found the dry cooking method made for less moisture to deal with--and you can be roasting the sauce elements at the same time)
1 1/2 cups white flour (approx.)
1 fresh egg
1/4 cup maple syrup
1/4 tsp. grated nutmeg
salt and pepper to taste

1) Peel your sweet potatoes and either shave them into a fine pulp with a knife or send them through a potato ricer. Don't overwork.
2) Pile the flesh in the middle of a big well-floured cutting board with the beaten egg, maple, and all dry spices in the center.
3) Sprinkle the pulp with flour, slowly incorporating the dry ingredients into the wet ones with a fork. Add only as much flour as needed--the dough should be sticky, nearly too sticky to handle although still workable.
4) Divide your dough into 4 ropes on a dry, well-floured surface, each about 1/2 inch thick. Cut the ropes into 1-inch segments with a floured knife.
5) Leave as much gnocchi as you want to cook immediately on your work surface. Transfer the rest to a nonstick baking sheet and place in the freezer (you'll have lots). When the individual dumplings are frozen enough not to be sticky, you can put them in a freezer bag and have gnocchi for later.
6) Boil a large pot of salted water while you make the sauce. Drop all the reserved gnocchi into the water when it reaches a rolling boil, and watch it carefully. When all of it floats, it's finished. Transfer with a slotted spoon directly into the sauce.

(for the sauce: serves 2)

(just oil the to-be-roasted ingredients lightly and cook them in the oven on a tin-foiled baking sheet for about 50 minutes at 400 degrees along with your sweet potatoes)
2 tbsp olive oil, divided
1 roasted onion, chopped
2 cloves roasted garlic, minced
2 roasted tomatoes, peeled and chopped
1 tbsp. tomato paste
1 or 2 scotch bonnet peppers, minced (go easy, these are very hot)
1/2 pound of shrimp, peeled, de-veined, tails removed
1 cup shrimp or fish or vegetable stock
1 tbsp. agave or sugar
salt and fresh pepper to taste
1/4 cup fresh chopped parsley

1) Heat the oil in a large skillet. When shimmering, add minced scotch bonnet. Saute 1 minute.
2) Add the roasted onion, roasted garlic, tomato paste, sugar, and roasted tomatoes along with the stock. (I always have shrimp stock on hand with shrimp dishes because I make it by boiling the shrimp tails and legs with a little bay leaf and black peppercorn and clove.) Allow to simmer until the tomato has melted into the oil and stock and the sauce has thickened, about 8 minutes.
3) Stir in the raw shrimp. Saute in the sauce until just pink and cooked through.
4) Add parsley. Drain the gnocchi and add directly to the sauce.
5) Sip Punkin' Ale. Enjoy together.

THE BEER:

Dogfish Head folks are crazy in a really good way. They are so passionate about brewing that they are very comfortable going to extremes and pushing boundaries, but we thought their classic pumpkin seasonal ale would be a great pairing with sweet potato gnocchi in an extra-spicy sauce.

This is a brown ale style brewed with pumpkin meat, brown sugar, and pumpkin pie spices. Although a very fun seasonal autumn brew, pumpkin beers often meet with one of two problems: either they don't taste much like pumpkin, or they taste shriekingly of pumpkin. Neither is delicious, although I'd prefer the latter over the former just to say I tasted the pumpkin at all. The nicest thing about Dogfish Head Punkin' Ale is that it both tastes of actual pumpkin and is also quite balanced. The cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, and malty pie-crusty flavors all blend together delightfully, but you don't feel as if you're drinking carbonated pumpkin pie in any way. This is still beer, baby.

THE AILMENT:

A word of caution when dealing with scotch bonnets. You know scotch bonnet peppers, yes? The ones pictured up top with Gabe holding them? Well, that's the color and the sole quantity in which my downstairs C-Town grocery store sells them. This is because, as I have deduced by now, my C-Town is making attempts on my life.

You can't buy one scotch bonnet, you see. Or even several. You have to buy oodles. And then there they are, all multicolored and beautiful and smelling of sweet grass when sweet grass tastes a bit like lava, and my natural reaction to their loveliness is to cook them. So about two years ago, when I was determined to eat Thai-style ground pork with green beans, I minced four of them up and dropped them into shimmering oil.

Here's where I slipped up.

I had my face over the pot.

Now, I know that life is a fragile and tangential continuum, multifaceted and painted in as many opinions and beliefs as there are shades of grey, but nevertheless breathing the air above newly simmering scotch bonnets is NEVER A GOOD IDEA.

Why, you might ask? I have a two-word answer to that question:

CHILI LUNG.

How does one cure Chili Lung, the reader desires to know? How do I know if I have Chili Lung? Is it hilarious? The answer to the third question: no. Well, a little. I'm going to answer the second question next: you know you have Chili Lung when you sound as if you have walking pneumonia for literally a THREE MONTH PERIOD OF TIME. Another good sign is when your cat (pictured, a very reasonable and non-reactionary feline) screams like the vacuum cleaner just came to life and flees the kitchen in a blur of panicked mammal the instant the peppers hit the pot. See, it turns out by pure linguistic coincidence that the active ingredient in pepper spray is...well, you're an intelligent reader, so I leave you to determine whether or not you have Chili Lung.

As to the first question, what should you do about it once you have given yourself (or, if we're blaming the nefarious source, C-Town has given you) Chili Lung? I have, by rigorous process of elimination, cataloged several remedies that do not work in the smallest degree:

1) Taking steam baths. Nope. Weak.
2) Covering your head with a towel and inhaling a steamed pot of eucalyptus. No. Sets you coughing again.
3) Sucking cough lozenges. Negligible effect.
4) Standing outside C-Town swearing like a theatre techie. This feels excellent, but the symptoms inevitably return. A temporary cure, though a pleasure.
5) Stealing your Dad's asthma inhaler. Promising, but you don't have asthma--so it just gives you a really weird, distant high before you start coughing again.

Solution: outfox C-Town. Do not get Chili Lung in the first place.

Which leads me to ask: who in their right mind buys this quantity of scotch bonnets at a go? And don't say "Dominicans," because I thought of that already, but my neighbors are bon vivants, not suicidal lunatics. I am left with my original conclusion. C-Town has designs on my life.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Tarragon Shrimp Snap Pea Salad

Goodbye to the Extreme Summer Series! Why? Because it's cold, dammit. Also raining. Perhaps I'll include more garden photography in future posts anyway, absent of theme. But mourn not for Extreme Summer--I shall speak of Fall Fashion Week parties instead.

INGREDIENTS:

1 large head fennel, shaved thin, fronds reserved
4 oz. slivered ricotta salata
6 oz. sugar snap peas, julienned
1 small shallot, shaved very thin
3 springs fresh tarragon, chopped
6 garlic cloves, chopped rough
12 shrimp, tails removed, seasoned with a little salt and pepper
2 tsp. olive oil
1/2 tsp red pepper flake
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1 1/2 tsp. honey or agave
1 tbsp. white wine vinegar
1 tbsp. poppy seeds
Salt and pepper to taste
-------------------------------------
Harpoon Leviathan Big Bohemian Pilsner

1) Mince your fennel fronds. Toss them with the snap peas, ricotta salata, fennel, shallot and fresh tarragon in a bowl. Set aside.
2) Whisk or shake together the mayonnaise, honey or agave, white wine vinegar, poppy seeds salt and pepper. Adjust seasoning to taste.
3) Heat the olive oil in a skillet. When oil is hot, add red pepper flake and garlic and saute until garlic is nearly golden, about 1 minute. Add shrimp and cook until tender and just pink. Set shrimp aside.
4) Scrape the oil, pepper flake and garlic from the skillet into the salad bowl with the fennel and snap peas. Add dressing to salad and toss well to coat. Adjust seasonings if necessary.
5) Arrange your shrimp over the salad.
6) Open Harpoon Leviathan Pilsner.
7) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Harpoon's Leviathan series is really growing on us. They don't make outrageously good standard bottles yet, although some are quite drinkable, but the Leviathan series is what its name implies: big. Now, a 9% alcohol pilsner is admittedly counter-intuitive, but it's also very good. The classic pilsner malts are nice and frothy, as the brewer's notes mention, and they used Czech hops for further authenticity. Apart from that, however, this is anything but an average pilsner--the hops are very aromatic with lots of grape and lemon notes from the big malt profile. Very tasty, doesn't drink like it's 9% hooch, so use with caution but by all means enjoy with shellfish! Delicious.

THE PARTY:
So NYC launched Fall Fashion Week last night, and I helped them pull the trigger. We spent a good spell of time at Versani and then wandered over to Prada to see all our other friends. Gabe bartends next door, so he's pretty much the Sam Malone of the flagship Prada, and man alive am I happy to know the fabulously artistic cats who sell luggage worth more than my car, when I had a car. (I have no car.) The employees at Versani and Prada are the nicest people, and the evening was absurdly fun all round. There might, admittedly, be better things than a night of free champagne and ace-high people-watching while wearing an ivory cloche hat, but nothing occurs to me at the moment.

Hair and make-up by me. The dress is vintage and thrift-store purchased. Cloche hat by H&M, $12.95. Boots not shown, but were a gift from Mom. Thanks, Mom! Tights from Daffy's Clothing Bargains for Millionaires. Necklace by Prada with Swarovski crystals. Necklace does not belong to me, but they let me try it on. Necklace costs approximately triple what Gabe and I spent on a month in Thailand. Necklace costs are frankly prohibitive. Necklace costs about as much as my entire beautiful catered wedding ten years back (same general figure). Necklace will never be mine. But we were good friends for a brief time. I'd like to think when this necklace finds a home, it will occasionally speak of me over appetizers when its owner is sipping oysters and French rose champagne.

I had a grand time talking to everyone on the streets about art and style. A class act purple bow tie-wearing gent and I were interviewed in front of Vera Wang's fete about the mood of the celebration, and whether we thought it elitist. Elitist? It was a block party. With free champagne. Free sushi. Free bands. And hardly any of the designers had guest lists. The ones who did have guest lists, the bloggers report, had lamer parties. So there! Viva riffraff and artists and thrift store dresses! Opening Ceremony cleared out all their display windows so the common folk could pose as mannequins. That's what I call fashion.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Shrimp Pot Stickers with Chinese Flowering Cabbage Greens

INGREDIENTS:

(for the pot stickers--best served with a small side of gyoza dipping sauce)

20 gyoza wrappers
1/2 pound of raw shrimp, peeled, de-veined, and finely minced
4 tbsp. olive oil, divided
5 garlic cloves, minced or pressed
1/2 tsp. red pepper flake
2 inches of ginger, minced
2 scallions, chopped, white parts separate from green
1/2 lb. Chinese flowering cabbage greens, very finely chopped with stems
1/2 tsp. white pepper
Salt and fresh black pepper
1 tsp. agave nectar or other sweetener to taste
1/2 cup water

1) Heat 2 tbsp. of the oil until shimmering; add red pepper flake, ginger, garlic, and the white parts of the scallion. Saute until garlic and ginger are golden, about 1 minute on high heat.
2) Add flowering cabbage to your skillet along with salt and white pepper, cooking until greens have reduced and wilted, about 3 minutes longer. Place the cooked greens in a bowl with the uncooked green part of the scallions.
3) When greens are no longer hot, stir in your sweetener and adjust seasoning if necessary. Incorporate the minced raw shrimp thoroughly.
4) Lay out 1 gyoza wrapper and place approx. 1-1 1/2 tsps. of filling in the middle. Moisten the edge of the wrapper with water and fold the dry edge over into a closed half-moon. Seal by pressing small pleats into the unmoistened edge of the wrapper with your thumb and forefinger, setting the pot stickers aside one by one until all are filled.
5) Heat remaining two tbsp. oil, preferably in a 10-inch nonstick skillet. Your pan must have a close-fitting lid. When oil is hot, place pot stickers with seam-side up very closely together in a circle (they should be touching) and saute until bottoms are golden brown, about 3 minutes.
6) Add the water, tilting the pan so it's evenly distributed, and cover tightly, reducing heat to med-low. Cook the pot stickers until liquid is gone, 7-10 minutes. Remove lid and allow steam to escape, shaking the pot stickers free.

(for the Chinese flowering cabbage greens)

2 tbsp. olive oil
1/2 lb. Chinese flowering cabbage greens, chopped into 2-inch segments with stems separate from leaves
1/2 tsp. white pepper
1 tbsp. oyster sauce
Salt and fresh black pepper

(for the beer)

1 12oz. bottle Speakeasy Big Daddy IPA

1) Heat the oil until shimmering. Add the stems and cook for 3 minutes.
2) Add the leaves, white pepper, oyster sauce, salt, and black pepper. Saute until greens are wilted and stems are tender, about 2 minutes more.
3) Adjust seasoning and plate, along with the pot stickers.
4) Open Big Daddy IPA.
5) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
A reviewer from Las Vegas on Beer Advocate had this to say about Big Daddy: "IPAs are a snob beer, but if you want friends to enjoy the flavors you're having then this is surely the gateway drug to the addiction." I wouldn't necessarily go so far as to call a beer type that was popularized by the East India Company tradesmen and sailors in the late 1700s snobbish--it seems to have been around for a while, and after all, it's beer--but the accessibility praise is accurate. Not only is this one of my favorite beers of all time, brought to us by the splendid Speakeasy Ales & Lagers of San Francisco, California (let it be known they are consistently outstanding), but it's drinkable even if you aren't accustomed to the IPA style. You're going to get a strong hop presence, along with some tropical citrus like pineapple, but this beer's elegance lies in its profoundly smooth finish. Great with almost any well-spiced, strongly flavored food, hardcore awesome with pot stickers.

THE NEIGHBORHOOD:
Three cheers for Chinatown! All the more because half the s&*! I don't understand! Seriously, I put things in my mouth when I was in Hong Kong that I couldn't identify if asked, "Animal, vegetable, or mineral?" My professional chef friend Jordan says whenever you simply cannot fathom what it is, it's taro root. I only wish he were right.

(Also, for the record, I would like to hereby state that whatever the gelatinous panna cotta-esque substance was that I ate at the dim sum place--the opaque brown-orange jello that tasted vaguely of hot dog--I pray to sweet baby Jesus we will never be reacquainted.)

Anyway, being in Chinatown makes me very happy because it reminds me of our trip to Hong Kong and Thailand--the picture above is actually a Bangkok market. New York's Chinatown is also one hell of a fine way to battle the economic downturn; they'll sell you massive fresh shrimp for $6.49/pound, and a one-pound bags of greens for a dollar, and Malaysian shrimp-and-pork jerky that tastes like meat candy. Mmm. Meat candy.

By the way, you aren't going to find Chinese flowering cabbage greens unless you're lucky enough to have a Chinatown or live in China. Or grow them yourself, of course. They're faintly mustardy but much milder than actual mustard greens--sort of like a spinach with really thick, tender stems. If you can't find them, I'd use spinach in this recipe, or cabbage, or a nice leafy bok choy.


Gyoza

Friday, February 13, 2009

Skate Wing in Rock Shrimp Caper Sauce with Blood Orange Brussels Sprouts

INGREDIENTS (serves two--we also had roasted root vegetables tossed in butter and thyme):

(for the beer)
Brooklyn Winter Ale

(for the fish)
1 skate wing (about 3/4 to 1 pound)
Poaching liquid to cover: about 3 cups of fish stock, with seafood boil herbs added. Our mix includes mustard seed, dill seed, ginger, chili pepper, bay leaf, clove, allspice, celery seed, cinnamon and black peppercorn.

1) Bring liquid to a simmer and poach the fish, about 10-12 minutes; it's done when the flesh is opaque and begins to flake apart easily.
2) Divide skate wing in halves and plate.

(for the sauce)
1 1/2 cups fish stock
splash of white wine
1 oz. capers, minced
4 springs fresh parsley, minced
3 tbsp. butter
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/4 lb. rock shrimp
Salt and pepper

1) Simmer and reduce the fish stock, butter, capers, and white wine to a little over half a cup of liquid.
2) Incorporate the heavy cream and return to a simmer. Season with salt and fresh pepper.
3) Add the rock shrimp and cook until just pink; when they're pink, remove from heat.
4) Stir in fresh parsley and pour over the divided skate wing.

(for the Brussels sprouts)
1 lb. baby Brussels sprouts
2 tsp. olive oil
1/4 cup brandy
Juice of 3 blood oranges, some flesh reserved
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
1 tsp. honey
Salt and fresh black pepper

1) Pour blood orange juice, honey and balsamic vinegar into a small sauce pot and simmer for about 20 minutes to reduce into a thick, delicious glaze. Depending on your balsamic, you may need to add more sweetener, as balsamics vary widely.
2) When the glaze is almost ready, heat the oil in a skillet over medium-high and add Brussels sprouts. As the outer leaves brown, add the brandy and scrape the bits off the pan. They'll be done in about 5-7 minutes--taste them to prevent overcooking.
3) Season to taste and toss with the glaze.
4) Open Brooklyn Winter Ale
5) Serve together

THE BEER:
We went with the Brooklyn Winter Ale for this one--can't beat $7.99 for a sixer at Whole Foods, at least not in New York. Even though Garrett Oliver is ridiculously dismissive and tends to "get his tweed undies in a twist," (source of quote shall remain nameless for his protection) over beers that are not to his liking, e.g. hoppy west-coast beers, he can still brew a mean beverage.

Okay, we weren't too wowed by this one on its own, but it did do a wonderful thing when combined with the dinner: it made them both better. The malt-forward sweetness and laid back hops played well on the tongue with the sweetness from the rock shrimp, roasted veg and the glaze of the brussel sprouts. I like me a little hops with something bold like brussel sprouts, and there was just enough bitter presence to hold up on that end as well.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Pacific Northwest Seafood Feast

INGREDIENTS: (serve the seafood feast with sliced French bread and green salad on the side)

(for the crab cakes)

2 large (2 1/2 lbs. weight each) Dungeness crabs, meat removed (about 2 lbs. crab meat)
1 shallot, minced fine
1/2 a celery stalk, minced fine
1/2 a red bell pepper, minced fine
1/8 tsp. cayenne
1 tsp. paprika
2 tbsp. mayonnaise
1 egg, beaten
5 drops Worcestershire sauce
Sea salt and black pepper to taste
3 tbsp. butter
3 tbsp. olive oil

1) Combine all the ingredients apart from the butter and olive oil in a mixing bowl and season to taste.
2) Form the crab cake batter into 12 patties and leave them in the fridge for one hour, covered. Chilling the crab will help it keep its shape when pan-fried.
3) Heat the butter and oil until just smoking over high heat and fry half the cakes, turning them over after about five minutes and cooking until each side is crisp and golden-brown. Repeat with the other six patties, placing the crab cakes on a paper towel to cool slightly.

(for the shrimp)

2 lbs. fresh shrimp, peeled and de-veined
1 14.5 oz. can diced tomatoes
1/2 white sweet onion (Walla Walla is great), chopped
5 cloves garlic, chopped
4 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
1/2 tsp. red pepper flake
1/3 cup dry white wine
4 tbsp. minced fresh Italian parsley
Sea salt and black pepper to taste

1) Heat the olive oil and saute the onion, garlic and red pepper flake for approx. 5 minutes, until onion is translucent.
2) Add tomatoes and press with a slotted spatula to incorporate the tomato into the oil, cooking for 5-7 minutes more.
3) Add the wine and saute 2-3 minutes, until the alcohol has burned away partially.
4) Saute the shrimp until all sides are pink, and no longer. Remove from heat and stir in the parsley.

(for the Za'atar aioli)

1 tsp. garlic powder
1/2 cup mayonnaise
2 tsp. fresh lemon juice
1/8 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp. honey
2 tbsp. Za'atar

1) Combine all the ingredients, whisking rapidly with a fork or wire whisk--alternately, combine in the small bowl of a food processor. Season to taste.

(for the beer)
-------------------------------
1 bottle Widmer Drifter Pale Ale

Open beer. Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
We were out with the infamous Messrs. Jim LeMonds and Larry Moorehead at Porky's, a fine beer purveyor in our hometown of Longview, Washington, and we sampled this on draft--it's surprisingly awesome. Widmer is a decent beer, but this is a great pale ale. It has lovely sweet red grapefruit notes, hardly any bitterness, and finishes with lush malt and tangerine tones. If you can get your hands on it, throw some back. We think it would pair fabulously with the fresh, sweet, savory seafood dishes we made for our feast.

THE ADVENTURE:
We're in Washington! The feast was chez Farber residence, and we ate fresh shrimp and crab until the shrimp and crab were no more. Dungeness isn't available on the East Coast as far as we know, and it's the best crab ever. Here's my mom and dad--you'll notice my dad happens to be holding an advance reader's copy of a certain book.

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Simple Paella

INGREDIENTS:

2 tbsp. olive oil
3-4 oz. (2 links) Spanish-style hard chorizo, halved and sliced
8 oz. cleaned raw shrimp, thawed or fresh
2 onions, chopped
8 cloves garlic, chopped
1 celery stalk, chopped
2 red bell peppers: one chopped, one minced
1 14.5 oz diced tomatoes (Muir Glen is best), minced, liquid reserved separately
1 cup chicken stock
8 oz. frozen (or fresh!) green peas
1 cup long-grain white or basmati rice
8-10 strands of saffron
3 tbsp paprika
1 tbsp cayenne pepper (optional)
1 1/2 tsp. dried thyme
2 bay leaves
Salt and pepper
-------------------------------------
Legacy Midnight Wit

1) You should have about 3/4 cup tomato liquid from the can; place this in a large liquid measuring cup. Add chicken stock (about 1 cup) until your total liquid comes to 1 3/4 cups. Set aside.
2) In a wide skillet, heat oil and saute chorizo until the edges crisp and the oil is colored with chorizo spices.
3) Add garlic, and saute 1 minute.
4) Add celery, onion, and minced red pepper, stirring until softened, about 4 minutes.
5) Add diced tomatoes, saffron, cayenne, paprika, thyme, bay leaves, salt and pepper. Cook for 2 minutes, stirring frequently.
6) Add rice to skillet and stir constantly 3-4 minutes, to season rice and brown it in oil before the liquid is added.
7) Add the combined tomato juice and chicken stock. Add chopped bell pepper and bring the mixture to a boil, scraping any bits off the bottom.
8) Cover and reduce heat to low, cooking for 15 minutes.
9) Uncover and add peas and shrimp to the cooked rice. Stir to incorporate, re-cover, and leave at low heat for 2-3 minutes, just until the shrimp have turned pink and the peas are tender.
10) Open Midnight Wit.
11) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Drinking one now, just to remember right....
Lyndsay says foamy. And also, soap (a common [but not {necessarily} bad] ailment of the wit bier style)... lemon... bready... dried coriander... unripe apple. The citric notes cut very effectively through the richness of the chorizo, and the floral yeastiness complements the saffron, garlic and shrimp. Mmmmm.

P.S. Lyndsay
(with serious reservations and spelling adendums) wants to make it clear that Gabe wrote this section.

THE VACATION THAT WILL NOT LET ME LIVE IN AMERICA IN PEACE:
I love America. I love America so much that I will stand flat-footed in front of you and say that Portland, Oregon is the Vice Beer Chancellor to Brussels, Belgium's Commander-in-Brew (and yes, we have been to both Belgium and Germany, and Germany gets Secretary of Heady and Pleasant Frosted Steins as Lofted by the Barrel-Shaped.) So when Gabe and I went to Barcelona, Spain, I expected to enjoy myself. I did not quite expect it would ruin me on everywhere else. Here's an example of a typical day in Barcelona:

11:00 am: Waken. Wonder whether to have Spanish or Catalan food for lunch.
1:00 pm: Have Spanish or Catalan food for lunch.
2:00 pm: Remove the champagne flutes Gabe purchased on the second day from his bag, and taste a new variety of cava (methode champagnoise Spanish sparkling). Drink outdoors. Laugh that no one can stop you. Laugh along with the locals who are laughing at you for drinking out of a glass champagne flute outdoors because no one can stop you.
3:00pm-7:00 pm: Stare at Gaudi exhibits and Modernista art.
9:00pm: Decide whether to eat Spanish or Calatan food for dinner.
& etc., etc., etc.

So the point has been made, and Spanish food is just bloody excellent, and making it (especially in this way simplified yet very tasty fashion) makes me want to go back to Spain. Except...then where would I find delicious beer?

Spanish beer: NOT OK. Some palatable lagers, but how good can it be when half the time you're mixing it with lemon tonic water?

Suffice it to say that the pairing of non-Spanish beer with Spanish food shouldn't daunt us. And if you get a chance, go to Barcelona. And then stay there.