Cook Up Joy: Your Guide to Creatiung a Spanish Feast
By Regina Winkle-Bryan
“People who love to eat are always the best people.” — Julia Child
Once upon a time, I actively avoided non-celebratory lunches (e.g. anything that was not a birthday, anniversary, or holiday) with my in-laws because I thought they were too time-consuming.
“If I go to your family’s house for lunch on Saturday, I’ll be there for hours. I’ll get drunk! My whole day will be shot,” I’d protest to my husband. He often went alone while I worked.
I now realize the error of my ways.
After all, “One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.” At least, this is what Virginia Woolf thought.
The whole point of the long Spanish lunch is to spend the entire day with family or friends. To be so engrossed in one another, in the food, in the wine, and in relaxing, that you can’t think about work or whatever other stressors you have going on in your life. Years later, I see the wisdom in this Spanish tradition, and I hope you will, too.
So why not host your very own version of a leisurely Spanish lunch?
Here’s what you do. Tell your family that this weekend you will be preparing a special meal for them (or get them to help you in the kitchen). Then get busy creating a menu. Here are some books to help you with that.
For your menu, you’ll need several courses. This is key to the unhurried Mediterranean experience. Plan for appetizers, a salad or soup, an entree, and dessert. Do not forget the booze or some sort of mocktail alternative. Creating a menu can be such a creative endeavor. Have fun with it.
Your Spanish lunch day arrives. You’ve prepped the meal and the appetizers are plated. At 12:00 noon, change into something cute. Spaniards dress up for one another. Dust off that flowy dress and your open-toe shoes. Paint your nails. Inform your family that sweatpants and hoodies covered in cat hair are not allowed at this meal. No exceptions. Everyone has to make an effort.
Let the lunch commence. Begin with some light snacks — in Barcelona this is called the vermut and usually consists of a few potato chips, olives, and if you’re really fancy, some sliced charcuterie or cheese. Pour the adults vermouth (on ice, with an orange peel), or a glass of cava (anything bubbly works — champagne, prosecco), or a beer. You might serve your drinks in the garden or living room.
Then move on to the first course, which in my Spanish family is usually appetizers. This is where you serve those steamed clams, or croquettes stuffed with mushrooms, or a crisp salad drizzled with olive oil and champagne vinegar.
Open the wine. A red from La Rioja or a white Albariño. Should you wine pair every course in the meal? Absolutely.
After appetizers, it’s time for the main course. Could you make a paella? You can if you have the right pan. It’s not hard — after all, it’s really just rice, veggies, and seafood.
Paella is a hearty dish that will also really wow your guests — even if those guests are just your spouse, your kid, and the cat. It doesn’t matter. Don’t skimp on presentation and pomp just because your party is small. Celebrate the fact that you have beautiful food to enjoy and a healthy family.
After the paella, you’ll feel full, so you might think it reasonable to stop eating. But a Spanish lunch is not a time for moderation. Part of the reason Spaniards can eat and drink so much during their long lunches is that the meals are drawn out over many hours. Spaniards take their time. They pause to laugh, to stand up and look out the window, to deal with their kids. Then they return to the matter at hand: savoring.
Today is not about counting calories, and it certainly isn’t about giving up. If you feel like you’re going to be sick, then take a short break. There’s a widely believed myth that the Romans often feasted and then vomited in order to return to the celebration and continue eating. You don’t need to be that extreme, but definitely do not skip dessert. It’s not about being full, it’s about experiencing the food.
The late celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain once said, “Your body is not a temple, it’s an amusement park. Enjoy the ride.” Adopt his philosophy today.
You’re on to the third course, which is thankfully dessert. What have you prepared for the finale? I love Spain, but their desserts have never impressed me. (I’m sure that statement will piss someone off — oh well.) Still, I suppose you could make a Tarta de Santiago if you want to stick with a Spanish theme.
Or, go off-theme and make a more familiar American sweet. Bake a cheesecake or brownies with caramel-swirl ice cream, or buy a box of your favorite bakery cookies.
In Catalonia, it’s common to have cava with dessert. If you’re not familiar with cava, it’s similar to champagne. Channel your inner Coco Chanel, who famously said, “I only drink Champagne on two occasions, when I am in love and when I am not.”
Pop the cork. You should be tipsy by now or at least feel a warm glow. You’ve had a lot of food, so you’re not drunk, you’re just feeling mellow.
After cava, it’s time for coffee (you might do decaf). Do you have a Nespresso machine? It’s time to fire it up. In Spain, an espresso is common after a meal, but never a large coffee with cream, which is considered too heavy. Whatever. You do you.
This is a good opportunity for a scenery change. Take your coffee in the backyard or on your balcony. If you don’t have either, then just sit in the living room, but do move away from the dining table.
Usually, coffee marks the end of the Spanish meal. Three hours have passed. There may be dishes — ignore them! It’s time for a nap. The dishes can wait. Your responsibilities can wait. The rest of your life can wait.
Focus wholly on resting and digestion. Watch a movie you don’t mind falling asleep to. You could even watch a Spanish movie, like Mar Adentro with the talented Javier Bardem or Volver with Penelope Cruz. My Spanish husband finds wildlife documentaries especially helpful in encouraging a siesta.
It could be as late as 4pm by now. You might think, “If I nap, I won’t be able to fall asleep at bedtime.” It will be okay. Allow yourself the sweetness of a post-feast slumber. Change into your fat-pants. Stretch across the couch. Take up space. Let drowsiness overcome you.
When you wake up an hour later, you can decide whether to tackle the dishes. Bonus: You’ll probably have leftovers for tomorrow.
