A couple of summer months filled with many beachside lunches of paella so good and so long ago that I am still chasing the memories of a perfect paella. My sister and I were in the Catalonian village of Arenys de Mar for a good part of the summer. On the wide, white beach surrounded by rugged hills were a handful of rustic 'restaurants' that made only paella over wood fires. They were makeshift structures covered with bright pieces of miss-matched canvas tacked down to keep the strong Spanish sun and ocean breeze at bay. These little makeshift restaurants were always busy for lunch, the only meal that they served and I had my favorite one.
The beach side paella restaurateurs were waiting like gulls as the little boats motored back to port around 10 o’clock in the morning. Each boat filled with the fresh caught fish and shellfish still moving violently seeking to be set free. There was fish to fillet and chunk, stock to make, onions and peppers to chop and most importantly the wood-fire had to be started, time was of the essence.
My favorite restaurant had a round stone fire pit built on the sand. A variety of wood collected from the beach was piled into the pit covering yesterday's scrunched up newspaper which was barely visible in the center. A wooden match was struck and the day's cooking commenced. When the flames burned down, the cook balanced a grill on top of the stone pit.
Once in a great while, I come across a spectacular dish that needs little tinkering because it’s already perfectly healthy and incredibly easy like Swedish Gravlax with Mustard Dill Sauce.
After cooking up a bunch of boneless and skinless chicken thighs the other day, I decided to turn some of them into chicken a al king. I don't know what made me think of this dish from the past – white sauce with chicken and vegetables stirred into it. For one thing, I've never really cared much for it. It brings back bad memories of creamed chipped beef and canned peas that my mom used to make when I was a child. She'd serve it over toast. The peas were mushy, the toast was soggy and the chipped beef was – well – chipped beef. I did not like it. Not one bit.
My Dad was crazy about this; it's what I recall him craving the most. He always happily obliged my mother as chief taster when she was in the kitchen trying to get the flavors just right.
Ok, so England isn't the home of one of the world's greatest cuisines, but it has exported a number of delicious dishes. I'm particularly fond of crumpets, Summer pudding, bangers and mash, fish and chips, the Sunday roast with Yorkshire pudding, and chicken tikka masala (while not completely English the combining of chicken tikka with a masala sauce is believed to be a British invention). On the rise in popularity are 