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The 7 Most Unusual Things I’ve Eaten in Spain
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Despite what many Spaniards may tell you, the food here is not spicy at all. But that hardly means Spanish cuisine is boring! I’ve broadened my palate and tried so many new things since moving to Spain in 2012, picking up a taste for everything from sardines and anchovies to cured ham and beef. During this culinary adventure I’ve had throughout the country, though, I’ve come across several out-of-the-ordinary dishes, most of which I actually enjoy eating now! Read on to see some exciting dishes you can try in Spain.
No, this isn’t like those little fried calamari you get as an appetizer sometimes; pulpo á feira is adult octopus, tentacles and all, slow-boiled under tender. After the octopus is finished cooking, apron-clad women (the pulpeiras) snip the purple tentacles into little medallions with scissors, discarding the mantle or “head.” Garnished with extra-virgin olive oil, salt, and pimentón (smoked paprika), the white tentacle cross-sections are often served with boiled potatoes.
Not even Spaniards who live up north will touch these little guys, but they’re still hugely popular in the southern region of Andalucía in the spring and early summer months. They’re nothing like the saucy, high-brow French escargots you might be familiar with, though; Spanish snails are fun finger food slurped down by the cup-full. The little ones are slow boiled in a broth of garlic, fennel, cayenne pepper, spearmint, and bay leaves, and the bigger ones (cabrillas) tend to get cooked in thicker, tomato-based sauces. Both are usually served in glasses or bowls with their broth, which is uncharacteristically spicy by Spanish standards.
Percebes win the award for Weirdest Seafood in Spain: yes, they are indeed a species of barnacles. But these barnacles don’t attach themselves to boat hulls or humpback whale snouts; instead, they cling to dangerous, rocky cliffs battered by incoming tidal waves. Because of this, they’re extremely expensive, fetching prices between fifty and a hundred euros a kilo. They are, however, a beloved delicacy in Galicia. To eat them, you cut off the leathery tube (the “goose neck”) with your front teeth just below the base of the beaky head. Discarding the tube, you chow down on the juicy insides that sometimes can taste like a blast of the tides. I don’t know if their addictive flavor justifies their outrageous price, but they’re worth trying at least once.
“Tripe stew” may not sound very appealing, and I’ll admit, it’s not for everyone. But the stinkiness of cow stomach vanishes as it cooks for three hours with spices like cumin, black pepper, and cloves—medallions of some good Spanish chorizo help, too, of course. I’ve had heaping bowls of this stuff all over the country and the tripe meat has always been melt-in-your-mouth tender, not chewy or slimy by any means. The earthy chickpeas add a nice contrast of texture and flavor to this stew. Check out my recipe for tripe and chickpea stew if this sounds interesting!
5) Pig ear
Ah, famine food. When times were tough, it was important to aprovechar or make the most of the entire pig, and that meant eating everything from the snout to the hooves. I’m sure the custom of eating orejas or pig ears dates back to such times, although many people in Galicia insist it’s a delicacy. Slow-boiled for an hour, pig ears should ideally not be crunchy, although the inner cartilage can only get so soft; its plasticky texture turns off many. Still, if they’re done right, the smooth meat on either side of the cartilage can be really nice, especially when paired with olive oil and smoked paprika.
A traditional dish in the southern province of Jaén, morcilla en caldera consists of blood sausage whipped up into a spreadable paste with onions, pine nuts, and a healthy amount of delicious spices. You typically eat in sandwich-style, stuffed inside small orange bread rolls called ochíos. Spaniards normally eat blood sausage in its expected sausage-link shape (often stuffed with cooked rice, as in Burgos), so I’ll admit that the idea of a pot of jiggly goop sounds unappealing. But all that nutmeg, cloves, and pepper combine to create a real delicious spread.
7) Pig face
Cacheira
Of all the unusual stuff I’ve tried in Spain, pig head takes the cake. Merely one element in the belt-busting cocido stew eaten in Galicia during Carnival season, cacheira is boiled along with all the other goodies like chickpeas, chorizo, greens, ribs, and potatoes—boiled to perfection, that is! I was honestly very surprised at how tender, and flavorful even, the pig face was. Gelatinous, yes. Fatty, of course. But while enjoying this unique dish I still couldn’t get over the fact that I was eating the face of a pig.
Which dish on this list would you refuse to eat? Which one would you most like to try? Tell me below in the comments!
Glen Canyon Dam On paper, modern U.S. Sun Belt metropolises like L.A., Las Vegas, Phoenix, Denver, and Albuquerque shouldn’t exist. They simply don’t have enough water nearby to support their populations of millions of people—or their agricultural industries beyond city limits. It’s the Colorado River, hundreds of miles away, that allows them to survive in the desert Southwest today. A plumbing system spanning half the continent stores this river’s water between tall canyon walls, delivers its under entire mountain ranges, and even pumps it uphill all to supplement the water supplies of major cities and farmlands in California, Colorado, Arizona, and more. Stand at the foot of Glen Canyon Dam on the border of Arizona and Utah, and you’ll come face to face with the linchpin of modern civilization in the desert.
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Read my Galician crash course here to get up to speed in the language. Galician is a Romance language (i.e., from Latin) spoken by about 3 million people in Spain’s northwestern region of Galicia. Although it’s most closely related to Portuguese—which is spoken south of the border—it shares many similarities with Castilian Spanish, including sounds and spelling. A Coruña If you’re planning on spending any time traveling or living in this unique corner of Spain, or walking the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route that ends here, even a tiny knowledge of Galician will help you get around and navigate menus, maps, etc. If you happen to speak Spanish, you’re already 80% of the way to understanding Galician, and I’m serious! Getting a grasp on the grammatical and phonological differences will turbo boost you up to 90%. To whet your appetite (both literally and linguistically), here’s a little selection from the Galician Wikipedia’s article on empanada , or meat pie: Unha em
