What are you, chicken?

Tommy and I just moved into our new apartment in Spain after several stressful weeks of searching across the pond and two days of nearly-incessant What'sApp-ing with potential roomies once we arrived in Almería.

Hard work pays off though, because the apartment rocks. Lots of light, two living rooms, a big bathroom a decent kitchen and (as all real estate agents will say) a great location.

Only thing is, I got spoiled with my kitchen in Alicante. It was the size of our living room here with massive counters, a huge fridge and a pantry to boot. Although our range in this kitchen is significantly improved (much larger and has two settings besides tiny flame and raging inferno) the oven is a real mystery to me. Mostly because it has NO DEGREE MARKINGS ON IT. It just has two gas spouts: one on the top that might function as a broiler and a main one that runs along the bottom of the oven as the main heating element.

No seriously, this is what the controls look like:

As such, I am currently in the market for an oven thermometer. But I digress.

I decided to cook a nice meal for me and Tommy and our new roommate, Ana who seems really cool. I considered my old standby of oven-fried chicken which has yet to fail me but didn't feel like going to the hassle of making the coating after a long day of moving. Thusly, I settled on a marinated chicken with a cucumber-yogurt sauce. It's one of my mom's favorite recipes and although she makes it on a grill, I figured the open flame would be pretty similar. Proviso: I don't know the time/temperature for grilling the chicken. If you would like it, comment below and I will find out from my mom.

It's a ridiculously easy recipe and comes together very quickly. The chicken was just fine in the oven although I did have to microwave it a bit to cook the thickest part for timing's sake. I recommend marinating the chicken for at least an hour to impart the most flavor possible but even 30 minutes will be fine, and in that time you can preheat the oven and make the yogurt sauce.

Leftover alert!

I used the extra chicken in a pasta salad with fresh veggies the next night and stirred in some of the extra cucumber sauce and it was damn good too.

Sorry about the crappy pictures by the way, I'm still getting used to the lighting in the kitchen/dining rooms. Whatever, it still tasted good.

60 cent Don Simon boxed wine -- the finest Spain has to offer!

Marinade:

(for about 2.5 lbs. of chicken breasts)

1 c. white wine

1/4 c. olive oil

1/4 c. lemon juice

1 tsp. dried oregano

Cucumber sauce:

1 to 1.5 c. plain yogurt (depending on how strong you want it to be)

1/4 c. olive oil

1 medium cucumber, peeled, seeded and finely chopped

1 to 2 garlic cloves, finely minced

Salt and pepper to taste

To make the marinade:

Combine all ingredients (except chicken) in large bowl, whisk to combine. 

Add the chicken breasts and cover. Marinate at least 30 minutes and up to two hours.

To make the yogurt sauce:

1. Combine all ingredients except salt and pepper, whisk well to combine. Season to taste.

To cook the chicken:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2. Place chicken breasts on a lightly oiled baking sheet in the middle of the oven. Bake for about 20 minutes, then turn them over. Bake for another 15 or until juices run clear. Adjust time accordingly for smaller pieces of chicken.

I went to Barcelona

and all you got was this dumb fantastic blog post.

Sorry for the silence kids, it's been a hectic weekend. And by hectic I mean trying to sample as much of Barcelona's gastronomy as I physically could.

I consider my mission mostly successfully accomplished.

If you don't want to read this whole blog post here's what you need to know:

High points were the Mercat de La Boqueria, eating a salted macaron from the famous La Colmena and the best seabass of my life at El Pintor.

Marzipan cherries at La Mercat

Low points were that every tapas place we went was super touristy and all the tapas were just deep fried something-or-others without much depth or history.

I also tried the famous Padron peppers that I had read and so much about, as well as both Estrella Damm and Damm Lemon beers which are from Spain. Unfortunately I only really liked the Damm Lemon because it reminded me of a shandy (beer and lemonade). The Estrella Damm was too bitter for me, and I don't even really like beer in the first place so this is sort of wasted on me. The padron peppers were also not my favorite, just because I don't really like peppers that much. But I'm glad I tried both because they're pillars of Spanish cuisine. Also because my fantastic editor from my days at the Post-Gazette told me to and he knows more about the world of food than I could ever to understand.

Noms on noms on noms

And now for an in-depth look at my whirlwind 36 hour trip to Barcelona.

So I spent 20 Euros on a gastronomy walking tour that resulted in me sweating profusely and being very grumpy because we stopped at about 9000 delicious looking chocolate stores and I DIDN'T GET TO BUY A SINGLE THING.

What is the damn point of a walking tour about food if there's no time for you to sample said food on said walking tour? Answer: there isn't one.

OH MY HOLY FUCKING CHOCOLATE HEDGEHOG

So the Mercat de la Boqueria is an outdoor mercado, much larger than the one in Alicante and with the added bonus of selling delicious looking fruit drinks and Catalan chocolate. At least 15 stalls were just gorgeous chocolates, candies and truffles and I am so glad I didn't bring my wallet to the Mercado because it would've ended badly.

Tomato heaven.

Barcelona is known for its Granjas, which are basically cafes that specialize in cakes and cheeses and also sell typical Catalan foods, like creme caramels, pastries and of course, coffee. We saw one of the oldest granjas, founded in 1870 and it was literally like stepping back in time: they kept most of the decorations from throughout the years. We didn't get to go inside but looking through the windows was like walking back through 50s-era advertising. Plus there was a really cute weimaraner sitting inside and I wanted to cuddle with it.


The chocolate shops were plentiful, and most of the ones we saw were established in the 1800s and early 1900s and are still family owned. The oldest we saw, Xocolateria Fargas opened in 1827 and still has a lot off the original cabinetry and stained glass on display, and they still sell mostly chocolates which I did not get to sample and I am still upset.

About the macaron: perfectly salty and from La Colmena, founded 150 years ago and about the size of my bedroom in Alicante. So worth the 90 cents. Tommy was pissed I didn't even offer him a bite but I'm sorry, macarons are too small to be properly shared and too good to want to share anyway.

Wait I'm not sorry.

The finest seabass of my life was procured at a beautiful restaurant called El Pintor where we nearly didn't eat because our reservation magically got cancelled. This could be my own fault as I was the one who called to make the reservation in the first place but still...I mean, shit. That would've sucked.

Anyway, despite the name and the location, El Pintor is a French restaurant which means that all of the dishes were soaked in butter. And my stomach said, "LOL AND NONE FOR GRETCHEN WEINERS" so I ordered fish instead of the braised lamb shank.

The real way to taste the rainbow.

But it was totally the best seabass I've ever had; buttery all on its own, perfectly tender and flaky and when paired with the fresh tartar sauce a true tour de force in the world of seafood. Let me say this now that homemade tartar sauce is unbelievably good and I will definitely be making it when I go home because it involves things I don't feel like buying in Spain. Like capers, which only come in 10-pound jars here.

My only complaint is that the vegetables I got with the fish were seriously overcooked and a little greasy. But I sort of ignored them anyway so it wasn't that big of a deal.

Mercat sausages

So there you have it, my weekend of gluttony in Barcelona. We also saw Gaudi's Park Guell and La Sagrada Familia church which were trippy and cool too. Gaudi must have done a lot of acid. I intend to model this year's gingerbread house on his designs which will almost certainly be a failure covered in frosting.

Also stay tuned because tonight will likely be a double feature WHICH WE ALL JUST FREAKIN' LOVE!

Ciao down

So sorry for the minor blogging hiatus, I was in Milan for the long weekend sans internet access. And honestly, I did not do as much eating as I wanted to. I think I spent more money on subway tickets than anything else.

Street eats

Here's the lowdown:

1. Apertivo is genius
2. I did not like the Italian pizza I tried
3. I had the best pomodoro of my life at our hotel restaurant
4. Spanish coffee > Italian coffee
5. Italian pastries are otherworldly
6. HOLY SHIT GELATO





So apertivo is this fantastic thing where you buy one (supremely overpriced) drink and then you have access to an all-you-can-eat bar of delicacies. We went to this one bar twice it was so good. They had everything from foccacia and raw salmon to hard boiled eggs to spicy sausage and vegetables and chocolate croissants. And the drinks were seriously strong.

Italian pizza has great crust, very light and flaky, but I prefer very saucy pizza and this was heavier on the cheese than the tomato. That's fine for them, I'll stick to the classic Chicago Lou Malnati's.

When Tommy and I finally got to our hotel (which was family owned and no one spoke a word of English), we were starving so we decided to eat at the restaurant attached. We ordered plain pomodoro, which is basically spaghetti with tomato sauce. Seriously the best pomodoro I've ever experienced. I know hunger is the best condiment but this sauce was velvety and so tomato-y and garlicky and the pasta was perfectly cooked and I could have eaten a gallon of it. Damn.







Italian coffee is really not all that strong and it's impossible to get more than a drop of it wherever you go. We had some dope cappuccinos at the Duomo but once you got past the foam you were ready for another. Or like, 6 more. Why doesn't Europe understand the concept of a large coffee? WHY???





Italian pastries...good god. I could write an entire blog post about them. We only got one we didn't like which was this cherry-jam covered square that looked unreal and sort of just tasted salty and like anchovies or something. Not poppin'.

Everything else was fantastic. We had your basic apple/pear strudel with unbelievably flaky pastry crust but it needed more filling. Twice we got this bread thing with sugar clumps on it that tasted sort of like challah with some orange extract. Super fluffy and perfect for dipping in tea/coffee/hot chocolate. I want more right now. We also had these little twisty pastry sticks with chocolate or orange marmalade in them which were this unbelievably light and crunchy texture and covered in powdered sugar. Messy, delicious, totally worth the calories. My only request is more flavors.

And last but certainly not least...gelato. Man. Gelato. I can't really eat it because it has too much fat and it would make me puke but Tommy and my boy Bernie who is studying abroad in Milan both let me sample theirs. Cruel, cruel world. It's so much better than ice cream because there's almost no air in there so it's a lot richer and smoother. We stopped at this one little place after a picnic in the park and I got a tiny scoop of pistachio covered in dark chocolate and it was (almost) all I needed to be happy. An enormous scoop on top of a cone filled with dark chocolate would've been better but one can't have everything.

Delicious.

So now that we're back, Tommy and I are going to try out the Paleo diet: no grains, no dairy and technically no legumes but I'm not sure how that'll go over because I need peanut butter to live. So stay tuned for Paleo recipes and probably a whole lot of whining on my part.

Chestnuts roasted on an open fire...literally.