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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!
After Paris and the Bayeux Tapestry , the third thing I wanted to see while traveling in France was Mont-Saint-Michel , a towering monastery built on top of a mountainous island off the coast of Normandy. Before visiting, I really didn’t know much at all about the Mount except that it was only accessible when the tides were out…and that it looked just plain cool. During the visit, I ended up learning a bit about French history and why the Mount is such a big deal for the French people. Mont-Saint-Michel It was by sheer luck, though, that I was able to visit Mont-Saint-Michel at all (pronounced “mohn san mee-shehl” [mɔ̃ sɛ̃ mi.ʃɛl]). The very day I had chosen to visit Mont-Saint-Michel was the first day in weeks that the tourist bus was running between Saint-Malo (where my hostel was) and the Mount, with maybe one or two other runs more for December. I paid 20€ for the round-trip service but didn’t complain because this really freaky coincidence made the whole visit possible.
As you head down a curve of the busy San Pedro street, you catch your first view of the twin bell towers of the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela—and you catch your breath. Petite hatchbacks rattle across the cobblestone as your feet seem drawn farther down the path, although that might just be gravity pulling you downhill toward the old zone. You cinch up your backpack’s sternum strap for the final approach of this multiple-night pilgrimage. For not the first time on your Camino, you lose your sense of direction as you enter Santiago’s old town: granite flagstones at your feet, stone-and-graying-plaster houses on either side, and overcast skies above disorient you—yet your eyes eventually lock on to a spray-painted yellow arrow on the side of a building. Once you’re back on autopilot, you start to reflect on why you started this crazy, 70-mile-plus hike in the first place. Rúa de San Pedro, Santiago de Compostela Maybe you hiked from Sarria farther inland as a cheap and hea
Galicia, located in Spain’s northwestern corner, is one of the country’s greatest regions. When I lived there from 2013 to 2015, I couldn’t get enough of the glorious, fresh food , the green, lush countryside, and the grand, granite architecture . But I could only take canned sardines with me back home, we’ve got enough humidity here in Texas, and sadly the oldest buildings in suburban Plano date back not to the 1070s but the 1970s. View this post on Instagram Okay, but really, y'all, where are the fairies??? This place has got some serious magic about it... // #flowers #spring #park #santiago #santiagodecompostela #galicia #spain #vsco #vscocam A post shared by Trevor Huxham (@trevorhuxham) on Mar 13, 2014 at 1:29pm PDT But what has stuck with me the most has been galego , the Galician language that I quickly picked up on after being immersed in it from day one at the elementary school I worked at. Clo