Andalucid at Los Piedaos

New Year's Dissolutions

New Year's Eve can get me down.  I usually spend some time during the day making lists, each item beginning with 'No...'.  No chocolate, no cheese, no chips, no crisps....(do all fun foods begin with 'c'?) This is followed by a year plan, a timetable for each week, a 'To Do' list for each day.  And then I try to figure out how I can escape from all the rules I've created.

So this year I'm trying something different. In no particular order, this is my Top 10 list of simple pleasures, things I plan to do more of in 2012:

1. Winter morning walks with the mutts along our herby hillside paths, and the sun rising over the Sierra Lujar

2. Getting scarlet shellac nails done at Natalya's salon in Lanjarón

3. Wash, blow dry and Spanish conversation practice at Vanessa's salon opposite La Caixa bank in Lanjarón - all for under €10!

4. Best coffee in town and bite-size apple danish at Denebla (aka Café Arpy), while reading 'Mujer Hoy'

5. An afternoon at the Hammam, the traditional Arab baths in Granada.  Not the one in Santa Ana, the newer one in C/San Miguel Bajo

6. Dinner with old friends at Bar Health in Lanjarón. 

7. Tea and a ciggie on the stone bench down at the lily pond, watching the sun set behind the cypress trees on the hill.

8. Emma Kirkby's Renaissance and baroque songs while I'm getting dressed

9. Spanish Renaissance music and songs by Jordi Savall and Hesperion XX1 - delicious to drive to!

10. Fred making supper, the woodstove glowing and a favourite thriller on TV

What about you?  What do you want to do more of in 2012?  Whatever it is, if it's legal, decent, honest and truthful, I wish you more of it in the coming year!  Feliz año! 

PS: This is Fred's Rich Fruit Cake - flavoured with orange and lemon picked an hour before from the terraces around Los P.  His first culinary hit of the new year!

 

Coming to my senses at Christmas

Fred and I got to Almeria last weekend to find that the hotel near the Cathedral hadn't processed our booking.  There was definitely no room at this particular inn.  After some scowling (us) and apologetic hand gestures (them), they booked us into nearby boutique Hotel Plaza Vieja in the square of the same name. 

While Fred pressed a button on the loo marked 'Shower' and emerged soaking wet from his very own inadvertent spa experience, I read the promo blurb and discovered that the hotel was attached to the latest Hammam, or traditional Arab bath in the Hammam Al Andalus chain.  These people know how to Hammam, and after eight years in Granada, I was about to find out.

I stepped into the warm candlelit darkness in my borrowed black swimsuit and the white towelling elf-shoes you have to keep on at all times.  It was quiet, just the music of water and occasional murmur of conversation.  A middle-aged couple and two elderly women were going through the age-old circuit of warm, hot and cold pools and I joined them. 

The warm pool was bliss.  I slipped through the soft water scented with essential oils, then sat on the stone ledge watching the candles flicker through pierced lanterns. Next, it was time for the hot pool to unknot tired muscles and lull me almost to sleep.  Big mistake. In a moment, I was instructed to climb out and step into the cold pool. Right in.  After the first shocking sensation of cold...there was a shocking sensation of cold.  But like eating chili peppers, the endorphin rush became addictive and I did this three or four times.  My reward was the foaming jacuzzi, as big as a swimming pool.  Followed by the all-marble steam room which warmed me right through. I finished with peach tea and a chat in the relaxation area.  When I walked through to the changing rooms I felt happy about nothing I could name.

I didn't have time for a massage ('on warm stone with kessa glove and natural soap') that afternoon, but if I had chosen that, the cost for a whole afternoon of indulgence would have been under €50. It's the perfect, calorie-free pre- or post-Christmas indulgence for jaded spirits and I totally recommend it as a New Year treat.

Do you have a Hammam in your area?  Are they in the UK yet?  If you're in Granada, I'd love to hear which of the hammams  you like best and why.  Happy bathing.  Happy Christmas and New Year!

Tripe Wars

No, not the rather lacklustre political jockeying of Spain's PP and PSOE candidates (dubbed the 'Race of the Number Twos' by racy regional rag The Olive Press). But the much more important callos conflicts to be experienced in two of Granada's finer tapas bars even as the PP's Mariano Rajoy takes up the premiership. 

Make no mistake, callos or tripe is Man Food.  The English translation of the Wikipedia page gets straight to the point.  Guts.  It's the kind of stewy chunky thing you'll find steaming in a battered pot over a two ring hob in a campesino kitchen on a chilly winter day.  But just as likely to be served in a white tablecloth restaurant in the yuppier parts of Madrid, the city that claims a special affinity to the dish.

Fred is a Man, so he loves this stuff.  But tonight he's a Perplexed Man.  He's pondering the purist version of callos served up at Bar El Mercado today - suitably savoury and farmyard-y, certainly, but sternly presented with just a few beans in its innocent beige gravy.  He remembers the more playful version he ate a few weeks ago at Granada's groovy Bar St. Germain. It sported chickpeas and - wait for it - red hot chilli flecks. And his heart (and stomach) are more inclined to this cheeky newcomer. (Maybe better not to mention his heart and stomach in this context).

I think someone should find out immediately how Mr. Rajoy concocts his callos.  If he messes with the original recipe, he might have other pesky innovations up his sleeve.  But if he likes his offal without waffle, then he's a man of the people and will lead Spain back to solvency through austerity.

Do you have a favourite callos recipe?  And what goes in yours?

 

David Dry: 1934 - 2011

I hadn’t walked up the hill to the Wishing Stone since last autumn. It’s just 20 minutes away but I’d got out of the habit of proper walks and then I was studying and working and running around, so I never seemed to have time.

The Wishing Stone was one of David’s favourite walks, with his wife Shujata and their dogs, Bonny and Max. Our dear friend, the architect and owner of Los Piedaos, died on 12 May, from prostate cancer.

David was one of the earliest British settlers here in the Alpujarras. He bought Los Piedaos with his then wife, Dorothy, in the late 1980s, and set about restoring the ruined farm workers’ cottages on the estate, transforming them into characterful guest ‘cortijos’.  With Dot, and later Shujata, he also designed and built the home we’re lucky to live in and care for, using local materials and artefacts, respecting the wildness of the setting and the environment. Shujata’s passion for design complemented his, and together they added to the beauty of the cortijos and surrounding gardens.

By this time last year, David couldn’t make it to the Wishing Stone; by last November, he couldn’t walk at all.  So last weekend I went up there ‘for him’. It had rained in the morning and the hillside was scented with the rosemary and thyme that covers it like a carpet at this time of year. After spring rains, it’s bursting with purple flowering thyme, thorny broom and pink stars of centaury. There are still a few of the small, deep blue iris splashed with yellow that I took to David when I went to say goodbye.

I was grateful all the way up the hill and all the way down. I appreciated my aching legs, the scratchy broom and getting caught in a shower on the way back. In the past few days Fred and I have done that walk three times; it seems right to make time for these simple pleasures on our doorstep.

In this house, where David lived for more than twenty years, I don’t feel his presence in any obvious way. But early this morning, when the first rays of sunshine came through the tiny window high up in the dressing room, put there just to capture that light, I felt that he’d always be here, in every playful detail of this beautiful home.

Thanks to David and Shujata for our life at Los Piedaos.  Thanks to Fred for the beautiful photographs. And thanks to you for reading this post.

 

La Dolce Vita de Carmelita

 

A week or two ago, I was getting tired of our kitchen. Through the windows, dishwater skies; in the fridge, fresh ingredients waited, wilting, while I dived into the freezer for another ready meal.

But then, Carmelita Caruana of Cook Italy arrived.  And suddenly, the heart of our home at Los Piedaos came alive again. Bright blue borage, starry jasmine and big bunches of fresh mint and coriander bloomed in jugs on the windowsill. And on the two kitchen islands, I found myself creating still lifes of flesh and fruit as Carmelita recited from the day's recipes. Rosewater and orangeflower; pale green pistachios and arbequino olives like khaki pearls.  Pale amber corn-fed chicken and plump fudgy dates.

By the end of the morning, elaborately sidestepping each other, seven cooks would turn 20 or 30 ingredients into four courses of eight dishes, a Moroccan feast. And we'd all sit round the big table outside to enjoy lunch in the warm spring sunshine. And we'd do it again next day with the Catalán menu, and on day three with curvaceous Italian cuisine.

Friendly, funny and just bossy enough to make us trim fresh artichokes perfectly, Carmelita made the whole workshop flow as smoothly as a good hollandaise, and sent us away inspired to become Mediterannean kitchen divas. Especially Fred.

You can drool over pictures and full menus for each day here on the Los Piedaos website. And for a kaleidoscope of the dishes we created, take a look at Fred's gallery on Flickr. Let us know which menu you liked - and if you'd like to Cook with Carmelita here at Los Piedaos next year!

 

Granada Tapas: the insider's guide

It's happened to most of us; you set out to explore a new town or city - let's say it's in southern Spain -  and a couple of hours later you're as hungry as a horse, as thirsty as an August acequia waiting its turn on the watering rota. You're looking for that elusive, magical bar that is going to make your day or evening special, the one you'll still be  do-you-remembering in ten years' time.

But after half-an-hour of checking out obsolete guidebook recommendations, or sidestepping scowling  students with their eyes full of hope and their hands full of flimsy flyers, you're no nearer to finding the real tapas thing. You end up in a dive with really bad tiles, faux-rustic furniture and three identical old men sipping their cervezas at the bar while they watch writhing pop tarts on the giant flat-screen TV. You are bored, fed up and want to beat your partner to death with the plywood jamon york y queso plastico bocadilla served with an extra helping of indifference by the owner's cousin's son.

It doesn't have to be like this.  After 12 years in the city, Gayle Mackie is the queen of Granada Tapas Tours, and she's graciously ready to share her insider knowledge with you.  Together with her colleague, Lecrin Valley-based writer and publisher Vernon Grant, Gayle has researched and co-written Granada Tapas Tours, a handy pocket-sized guide to Granada region's 100 top tapas bars. 

We met Gayle a couple of weeks ago for a lunchtime mini-tour.  She looks Spanish, sounds Scottish, and is more bubbly than a bottle of cava - delightful company. We started at Corrala del Carbon in c/Mariana Pineda.  It's got a pleasant old-world feel, tapas is generous if meatily conventional, and it boasts a handsome Whiskey Bar. 

Our tour ended at Saint Germain, (c/Postigo Velutti) simply because it was too good to leave. Callos, a man-food stew of tripe, chorizo and chickpeas in a spicy sauce, got Fred's vote.  As did a wide selection of primarily Spanish wines in a laid-back atmosphere with good music.

We also love Casa de Vinos in c/Monjas del Carmen, with over 100 wines to choose from, many by the glass. And their little rounds of goats' cheese on mini-toasts with onion and Pedro Ximenes jam...are GOOD! Difficult to find but Gayle knows how. And there's El Mentidero, at c/Piedra Santa 15, one of the new generation of arty, modern bars with friendly service. (see main photo).

As days lengthen and get warmer, food-lovers' thoughts naturally turn to tapas tours of Granada.  Gayle will be happy to help you through this rite of spring. Let us know if you go, and tell us about your favourite tapas experience.

And don't forget, we're offering you the opportunity to create your very own Spanish taste experience with our Mediterranean Cookery Workshops planned for March 17-24 here at Los Piedaos.

  ¡buen provecho!

 

 

To the Deserted Hamlet

It’s back!  Winter sunshine has returned to Granada and the Alpujarras and we’ve been drenched in the stuff for a whole week. With a soft southerly breeze on Sunday, it was enough to lure us and three couch-potato mutts out of post-Christmas hiding in search of a good walk.

 There are seven mapped walks that start from Los Piedaos, lasting from 15 minutes to 5 hours.  I was all for the quarter-hour dash to the bar at New Camping, but Fred was feeling manly, so we decided on Walk 6: From Los Piedaos to The Deserted Hamlet (3-4 hours there and back, easy walking).

Taking a left turn at the end of our track, we pass the old Fabricolat cheese dairy and its neighbour, the organic olive mill of Flor de la Alpujarra, busy now as the olive harvest is in full swing. The track descends to a small grove of eucalyptus trees framing a still pond, and opens into the valley.  Far below us we can hear the rush and just see the glitter of the stream feeding into the Guadalfeo River. Dazzling morning sunshine lies along the deep ridges, striping their dark green sides with gold.  The eucalyptus trees shimmer in the breeze. 

 A little further on, the pinewoods smell as deep green as they look, and their scent mingles with the rosemary and wild thyme that line our path. Apart from the bees putting in some weekend overtime in the prickly broom, it’s very quiet, even the usual soundtrack of distant cars has been switched off here.

After about an hour and a half at a moderate pace, you’re at the Deserted Hamlet.  Which sounds like a Harry Potter movie title, but in the bright sunlight is just a tiny collection of tumbling ruins in a clearing.  A handy threshing circle makes a perfect picnic stop before retracing our steps, preceded by three happy tails.

"We've got to do this every Sunday," I say to Fred, and he agrees.  At least until the next essay deadline, laundry pile-up, heavy Saturday night, etc...

Walk Andalucia from coast to shining coast

 

(Fred took this shot of me last February in Sierra Nevada Natural Park, 'the park next door' )

One winter afternoon about 15 years ago, when we lived in Yorkshire, Fred and I drove to Malham.  We walked into an outdoor gear shop and kitted ourselves out with wool socks (must have been straight off the sheep's back) and unrelenting hiking boots.  Driving to a distant car park, we unloaded Macduff, (just a trainee Bearded Collie in those days) and set our jaws sternly in the direction of Malham Tarn. After 20 minutes, we all agreed it had been a real experience, and headed for the nearest giant Yorkshire pudding with sausage and gravy - had to replace those energy stores somehow.

We get quite a few walkers staying at Los Piedaos.  That faraway look in their eyes allows them to focus on the most distant white village they can see from here - that's Soportujar.  They're up and out before the sun rises over the Lujar at 9.00 am, and you'll often bump into them heading back to their casita in the evening, looking unreasonably happy. 

They'll be pleased to know that Spain expert Guy Hunter-Watts has been using his hiking boots to great effect.  His new book, The Andalucian Coast to Coast Walk, will be welcomed by serious striders and Andalucia explorers. Los Piedaos is located on one leg of the walk, from Lanjarón to Soportújar.

The 21-day  430km itinerary goes from east to west, Maro to Bolonia, Mediterranean Sea to Atlantic Ocean, following in the footsteps of ancient travellers from Carthaginians and Romans to Visigoths and Moors.  En route, it takes in six Natural Parks, seven historical sites and plenty of wildlife.  What you won't see much of at all is tarmac roads and lots of other walkers.

The Andalucian Coast to Coast Walk is out this week.  Visit www.santanabooks.com or call +34 952 465 838. 

We'll definitely get a copy for our guests at Los Piedaos. Meanwhile, I'm going to ask G H-W if he can suggest a 20 minute, 1 km alternative, connected to a tinto y tapa at either end.

What's your favourite walk in the Alpujarras?  Write and let me know and one sunny winter day I might bump into you there.

Coming soon: planning the thrills and spills of a Mediterranean cookery course here at Los Piedaos next March!