Although Guájar Alto is a small village it has four bars, three of which serve not only tapas but also three-course meals and the cuisine has such a good reputation that people come from far and wide to dine here.
Every province of Andalucia has its regional specialities but Granada is different because many of its traditional dishes are influenced by the nazarí, the last of the Moorish rulers who occupied Spain for so many centuries. Also, the quality of the food produced in the province is outstanding and as well as the fertile vega (plain) of Granada, the Costa Tropical, with its favourable climate, also yields a huge variety of crops and exotic fruits which can’t be grown anywhere else. In Guájar Alto, which is situated at the head of a fertile river valley, the good climate which we enjoy means that we are also able to produce a wide range of fruit and vegetables. Olives are the main crop, just as they were in the time of the Moors, the first inhabitants; almonds, too, are important and, like the olives, do better in the higher zones. Lower down, alongside the river, avocados, chirimoyas (custard apples), vines, figs, citrus trees and nisperos flourish.
When you dine out here, the first dish to be brought to the table is a mixed salad, followed soon afterwards by a big tureen of soup. In winter, because the nights can be chilly in the mountains, these are hearty and warming. Although the recipes, handed down from generation to generation, are secret the main ingredients tend to be pulses (usually haricot beans), pieces of ham, baby clams and seasonal vegetables. These soups, which are meals in themselves, are a far cry from those which are generally served in restaurants and a visit to our village is worth it just to sample them. In summer, these soups are replaced by home-made gazpacho which, made from locally-grown tomatoes, cucumbers and the village’s own vinegar, is superb and probably better than that which any professional chef can come up with.The next course is a meat dish and there is a choice of pork, chicken, rabbit, lamb or choto (young goat). The latter, I’ve found, can be rather bland when I prepare it myself and I think only a Spanish woman knows how to cook it properly, using a good deal of seasoning with a touch of picante. A leg of lamb done very slowly in the oven, according to a traditional Andalucian recipe, is deliciously tender.
Served with the meat course are patatas a la pobre (poor man’s potatoes) which consist of sliced potatoes, onions, garlic and peppers fried in olive oil in a heavy-based pan on a fairly high heat so that the vegetables don’t absorb too much oil. The success of this dish depends on the quality of the potatoes and I’ve found that those which are locally grown are infinitely superior to those bought in supermarkets.
The deserts, made on the premises, are light and creamy natillas; my favourite, which is exquisite, is the one made from avocados. Because the Spanish adore sweet things, these deserts are accompanied by home-made biscuits or doughnuts flavoured with a hint of anise and sometimes there is fig bread, which is a kind of paste made from figs and almonds and, again, flavoured with anise. Or, perhaps, you’ll be served slices of goats’ cheese spread with local honey or membrillo, a pink jelly which is made from a fruit resembling a large, furry apple.
The locally baked bread is of a particularly high standard because the baker is French and learned his trade in Paris; typically, the loaves are crisp on the outside but very light on the inside. There was a time when, contrary to what many people believe, the Mediterranean diet was very poor because it consisted mainly of bread and is is for this reason that many Spanish recipes contain bread or breadcrumbs as an ingredient.
Our neighbour keeps a herd of goats from the milk of which his wife makes the most superb cheese. I’ve sampled a good deal of goats’ cheese during the years I’ve lived in this country but I have to say hers is the best; it’s smooth, creamy and with just the right amount of added salt.
Pork is the meat most often consumed in Spain, a custom which harks back to the time of the Spanish Inquisition who encouraged the people to eat it because they reviled Jews and Muslims to whom, of course, this meat is forbidden. In Guájar Alto, pigs are reared and then slaughtered in an almost ritualistic manner at what is called a matanza; you can tell when one is about to happen because the smell of the onions being prepared by the women permeates every corner of the village. When the blood has been drained from the animal, the herbs, spices and other ingredients needed for making morcilla (black pudding) are added and the strongest man in the village plunges his arm up to the elbow into the big cauldron to give everything a good stir. The mixture is put into a sausage-making machine, forced into a casing and then boiled. The woman use the offal to make a rich cazuela (casserole) while the legs are sent to the high Alpujarras, where the finest hams are produced, to be cured.
The climate of Guájar Alto, with its hot summers and cool winter nights, is ideal for olive growing which means that the quality of the oil produced is superb; the olives have a rich, nutty flavour and when they’re preserved they remain firm and succulent. I do mine the following way: firstly, so that they won’t be bitter, I make a slit in each olive; next, I cover them with a fairly strong saline solution using water from the village fountains, which is very pure; after four days I change the water, rinse the olives, and repeat the process, four times in all. Usually, the olives are preserved in a saline solution but I’ve found they last longer if they’re preserved in olive oil. I add mountain herbs, bay leaves, green peppercorns and a few little chili peppers.
I think the avocados grown in this area are even better than those produced on the Costa Tropical. The perfect avocado is ready to eat five days after it has been picked from the tree; this means that the fruit has absorbed sufficient oil to give it a characteristic, rich, buttery flavour which is never found in exported avocados. Before I came to live in Spain, I always considered them a luxury but here they are so plentiful that I take them for granted and eat them almost every day. Something else that I’ve come to take for granted is the abundance of citrus fruit which we enjoy in Guájar Alto; it begins to ripen in December and lasts until the beginning of summer. There is nothing more pleasant first thing in the morning than a glass of freshly-squeezed orange juice from fruit that’s just been picked.
Every year, the sampling of wine from the abundance of grapes which are produced in this village is a very serious business indeed. The vines flourish here in rampant profusion, the most common being the muscatel which is particularly rich in antioxidants. I prefer to drink the wine when it is young and sweet because, as it matures, it develops a stronger, quite musty flavour. Either way, although it looks and tastes very innocuous, it has a strength which can take the unwary by surprise!
The favourable climate enables the gardener to have a supply of fresh vegetables all year round. Culinary herbs, such as basil, parsley, coriander, oregano, mint and dill are very easy to grow while thyme, rosemary and fennel are found in the mountains. I often use all these herbs together, plus a bay leaf or two, to add to spiced cider with which I marinate rabbit meat. When I cook the dish the following day I throw in a few nisperos and prunes as well. In this part of Spain rabbit, partridge and jabali (wild boar) are often on the menu in restaurants.
In the towns and cities more and more people, especially the younger ones, are being wooed by the supermarket diet and the fast food outlets which have sprung up everywhere during recent years; in villages such as Guájar Alto, where populations tend to be much older, the traditional ways of cooking are still employed and it’s well worth making an excursion to sample our delicious cuisine.
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