The Hemingway Cookbook (16 page)

Ernest with “the king of all fish, the ruler of the Valhalla of fishermen.”

When the potatoes are tender, drain the mixture into a colander, placing a heatproof bowl under the colander to save the oil for later use (it has a wonderful potato/onion flavor). Add the vegetables to the eggs, pressing down gently until completely covered. Let stand for 10 minutes.

In a large skillet with high sides, heat enough oil to coat the bottom and sides of the pan (be sure ahead of time that you have a large plate that can cover the pan). Pour off the excess oil if necessary. When the oil begins to smoke, add the egg mixture quickly, lifting the sides to allow liquid to flow beneath. Lower the heat, rotating pan to be sure the
tortilla
is not sticking. Remember: Spanish cuisine is a cuisine of patience.

When the underside is browned, cover the pan with the large plate and invert to flip the omelet out. Wipe out the pan and add more oil. Bring to high heat again. Slide the
tortilla
back into the pan and cook the second side until brown. The
tortilla
is done when you tap the center and it is of similar consistence to your forearm. Of course, if you have manly Hemingway forearms, choose a slightly fleshier spot. Remove the
tortilla
from the pan, allow to cool, then serve in slices on sub rolls.

Escabeche de Atún
(Marinated Tuna with Onions)

For Hemingway, tuna was “the king of all fish, the ruler of the Valhalla of fishermen”
³
It is only fitting that tuna should make a special appearance at the Fiesta:

In the back room Brett and Bill were sitting on barrels surrounded by the dancers. Everybody had his arms on everybody else’s shoulders, and they were all singing. Mike was sitting at a table with several men in their shirt sleeves, eating from a bowl of tuna fish, chopped onions and vinegar. They were all drinking wine and mopping up the oil and vinegar with pieces of bread.
⁴

The smells and sounds evoked by this passage are absolutely inebriating. While Mike probably enjoyed a dish made with canned flaked tuna fish, the following recipe uses fresh tuna. It is still a very simple dish and will enliven any gathering with the festive culinary music of San Fermín
.

4
TO
6
SERVINGS

2 pounds fresh tuna steak cut into small chunks

1 large onion, coarsely chopped

4 cloves garlic, finely chopped

2 bay leaves, whole

Salt

Freshly ground pepper

1 cup olive oil

1 cup vinegar

Preheat the oven to 300° F
.

Place the tuna chunks in a heatproof casserole and cover with the onion, garlic, and bay leaves. Season the casserole with salt and pepper to taste, then pour the oil over the fish and let stand for 20 minutes. Add just enough vinegar to cover the fish. Cook, covered, for 20 minutes.

Serve at room temperature with plenty of bread for mopping. If you have time, prepare this dish and let it sit overnight. This allows the flavors to mingle and produces a more profound flavor.

Hemingway rarely traveled anywhere without making some bar or restaurant his own. In Venice there was Harry’s Bar; in Paris there was the Closerie des Lilas; in Key West it was Sloppy Joe’s; and in Havana it was El Floridita. In Pamplona, it was Casa Marceliano. Matías Anoz, owner of Marceliano’s, befriended Ernest when he first visited Pamplona as an eager young journalist with dreams of writing about the Fiesta. He gave Ernest room and board and didn’t mind when the bill went unpaid for a while. He also prepared
Bacalao de Pamplona
, which Ernest declared on several occasions to be his favorite dish. Casa Marceliano closed down in the early 1990s. What remains is a legacy of friendship, of proud old men speaking longingly of the days of their youth, and a dish of cod, shrimp, vegetables, spices and herbs that bring that nostalgia to life.

Bacalao de Pamplona
(Salt Cod)

The following recipe is based on the one that appears in José Maria Iribarren’s book
Hemingway y Los Sanfermines.

6
SERVINGS

1 pound salt cod

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 cloves garlic, crushed

2 tomatoes, peeled

1 large onion, finely chopped

1 green bell pepper, chopped

2 bay leaves

½ teaspoon sugar

¼ teaspoon cumin seeds

½ tablespoon minced fresh oregano, or ¼ teaspoon dried

½ tablespoon minced fresh marjoram, or ¼ teaspoon dried

Pinch of black pepper

¼ cup dry white wine

¾ pound crabmeat

1 cup peeled shrimp

½ cup sliced mushrooms

Begin preparation 1 day in advance. In a large bowl, cover the salt cod with cold water and let stand for 20 minutes. Drain the water. Cut the fish into 2-inch pieces, place in a medium saucepan, and cover again with cold water. Let the fish soak overnight, skin side down.

The next day, bring the water to a boil, then simmer over low heat for 45 minutes. Taste a small piece of the fish. If it is still too salty, rinse the fish thoroughly in hot water. Otherwise, drain the fish and set aside.

Heat the olive oil in a large pot. Add the garlic, tomatoes, onion, green pepper, bay leaves, sugar, cumin seeds, oregano, marjoram, pepper to taste, and wine. Cook slowly, covered, for 30 minutes. Add the cod and continue to cook, covered, for another 20 minutes. Add the crabmeat, shrimp, and mushrooms and cook, covered, for 10 minutes.

The cuisine of the Fiesta revolves around the wine, and in Navarra in July it flows freely. In the streets there is no delicacy of bouquet or concern for vintage. Volume, though, is very highly regarded. Shops throughout the town sell cheap wine and champagne in bottles and cartons. Regardless of price, the wines of this celebration must eventually embrace the leather tint of the bota (or wineskin). The white-on-white uniform of the Fiesta (accented rakishly with red sash and scarf) would not be complete without a Las Tres ZZZ wineskin hung wryly from the shoulder. The bota that Jake bought for four pesetas now costs 3,000 but remains essential. For a quick lesson, we’ll follow Jake and Bill’s ride atop a bus from Pamplona to Burguete:

Bill raised the wine-skin and let the stream of wine spurt out and into his mouth, his head tipped back. When he stopped drinking and tipped the leather bottle down a few drops ran down his chin.

“No! No!” several Basques said. “Not like that.” One snatched the bottle away from the owner, who was himself about to give a demonstration. He was a young fellow and he held the wine-bottle at full arms’ length and raised it high up, squeezing the leather bag with his hand so the stream of wine hissed into his mouth. He held the bag out there, the wine making a flat, hard trajectory into his mouth, and he kept on swallowing smoothly and regularly.

“Hey!” the owner of the bottle shouted.

“Whose wine is that?”

The drinker waggled his little finger at him and smiled at us with his eyes. Then he bit the stream off sharp, made a quick lift with the wine-bag and lowered it down to the owner. He winked at us. The owner shook the wine-skin sadly.
⁵

SAN SEBASTIÁN AND THE TAPAS LIFESTYLE

The Market was nearby, and I wanted to buy a few little appetizers that Ernesto was especially fond of: radishes, celery, capers, seallions, pickled peppers, green cloves of garlic, cod, fresh tuna, Spanish olives, and whatever else I could find, because Ernesto, the victor of so many battles, who still had enough energy to refuse to grow old, deserved every favorite tidbit of his that I could possibly offer him.
⁶

Meanwhile the Fiesta burns about you. Its circus burlesque charges forth through stately processions and rituals, closing with a mournful candlelit ceremony at midnight on the fourteenth of July. The following morning Jake leaves to seek refuge from the Fiesta. San Sebastián is a tranquil space, its name alone evokes golden beaches, summer breezes, and the lazy dining style of the uniquely Spanish tapas bars.

San Sebastián is a Spanish resort, so replete with local flavor that the word
resort
, conjuring images of mirrored and brash hotels with cookie-cutter thoroughfares twining amidst manicured greens, simply doesn’t fit. San Sebastián is home, sharing all day that certain early-morning quality that Jake found so intoxicating. It is a postcard of a caricature of a dreamy seaside town. Life is swell and the food divine in San Sebastián.

Few cities can boast the number of world-class restaurants found in tiny San Sebastián. And few Spanish cities can compete with the variety and character of the tapas offered in the dark personable bars above the gingerbread port in the Old Quarter. To indulge in the
tapeo
, or barhopping in search of elaborate appetizers, is uniquely Spanish, and in San Sebastián it is uniquely delightful.

With Pauline in San Sebastián, 1927.

The signs of great tapas bars are crowds of people at the bar and heaps of napkins on the floor. The crowds form before dinner, around eight or nine, and the trash accumulates soon thereafter. A stroll along Portu Kale is a walking tour of culinary bliss. Seafood is the specialty. Peering out beyond the flower garden of boats in the tiny port across to the Isla de Santa Clara, cradled in the arms of the town on the Bay of Biscay, one understands San Sebastián’s bond to the sea. Enter a bar (my favorite is Portaletas in Portu Kale), order a glass of beer or wine, and partake of the tapas. Keep a running tab in your head, and pay the bartender when you’re done. There is fish, shrimp, octopus and eel, serrano ham and chorizo. The variety is wonderfully daunting. The bartenders keep up a frantic pace matched only by the patrons, and the food and drink dance to the clamorous chatter of clinking glass and the spirited discourse of tipsy diners. This is dinner as it should be, a celebration of life, a spontaneous ritual replete with drama and comedy. When you return home, recapture the tapas lifestyle by creating your own.

THE MENU

A Tapas Menu

Pulpo a la Vinagreta
Patatas Alioli
Pimientos
Canapé of Fried Fish

Pulpo a la Vinagreta
(Octopus Vinaigrette)

Hemingway loved octopus. In Cuba, he would catch them from his boat, the
Pilar,
and dine on octopus in wine sauce andfricasse of octopus.
⁷
It is possible that Ernest experienced octopus for the first time in San Sebastián. At Bar Portaletas in the Old Quarter, you will find a perfect introduction to this delicacy. They serve tender pieces of octopus on a slice of bread with a dab of mayonnaise. You may also find it in countless tapas bars tossed in a vinaigrette. My alltime favorite is found at the Bar Gallego in Madrid, located just below the Plaza Mayor on the Plaza de Puerta Cerrada (very near to Casa Botín, which we will visit shortly)
.

6
TO
8
SERVINGS

1 small octopus, about 1 pound

10 cups water

1 bay leaf

½ cup olive oil Salt 1-2 corks

1 medium green bell pepper, diced

1 medium onion, finely chopped

¼ cup pimientos (see page
94
)

4 tablespoons wine vinegar

Cooking an octopus is quite an adventure in itself. Begin by balling up the octopus in your hands and slamming it into the sink a dozen times to tenderize. Place the water, bay leaf,¼ cup olive oil, a pinch of salt, and the corks in a stockpot and bring to a boil. Quickly dip the octopus into the boiling liquid three times to further tenderize it, then cook it in the liquid, covered, for about 1 hour. Taste a small piece after an hour and, if not yet tender, continue until it is. When done, remove the octopus and cut the tentacles into bite-size pieces with scissors.

Combine the octopus pieces with all other ingredients and the remaining¼ cup olive oil. Allow the vinaigrette to sit for at least an hour. Serve at room temperature.