Vamos: Zumaia, País Vasco

Have you ever wanted to go somewhere for a really long time? Like, two years? A place that was 20 miles away? A distance that I used to think of as a drive to the mall became an insurmountable barrier between me and Zumaia, the nearby Basque coastal town. Why? Because I was waiting for a certain curly haired girl to take me, after she tempted me with stories of dried octopus soup and sunshine.

She finally did.

 We went during jaiak (fiestas in Spanish, the town festival) and the atmosphere was jovial. The sun made its post-winter debut, and tiny huts proffering clothes, trinkets, food, and fun lined the water promenade.

And finally saw the famous Zumaia flysch, rock formations that date back 100 million years. Our guide took us to the 'townie' beach and then, since she knows me so well, on a tour of Zumaia's culinary highlights: vermouth with a dash of bitters before lunch, a sun-soaked picnic in the park of roast chicken and an entire tortilla washed down with a cold bottle of Zumaia txakoli, a liqueur tasting with an impressive spread of orujos, aguardientes, and other liqueurs. And, of course, all finished off with a gintonic al fresco, perched on the wall of the estuary.

She knows exactly how to win my heart. Gora Zumaia!

The Craziest Basque Fiesta There Is

Ever since the word 'Basque' was on my radar, there's been a special festival I've wanted to attend.

Yes. A goose. 

This is Antzar Eguna, the fiestas of a tiny coastal town in Bizkaia. Best explained by this video I shot:

Let's review. In this pueblo called Lekeitio, a fishing town of 7,000 inhabitants, there is a party that consists of groups of friends rowing out one at a time in boats to the middle of the port, where a rope is held on each end by a group of strong men. 

In the middle of the rope, there is a goose tied by its feet.  The designated rider on the boat, who is usually wearing white pants and a sweater, hooks his arm around the goose's neck and jumps out of the boat. The cord proceeds to be flung up and down, up and down, as many times as the hanger-on permits. We're talking heights of 30 feet, then, SPLASH, back down to the water.

It is absolutely incredible.

Without words. I could literally NOT believe my eyes. This is a dead goose....it used to be live, and after reading around I had expected to see a plastic goose. But no...they are several real, dead geese. So strange, so electric, so brute, so... Basque. It being a Basque festival (that dates back more than 100 years) there is some good eating to supplement the excitement.

The plaza and the winding streets of the city are littered with makeshift grills, where pancetta, chorizo, sausages and patties of meat are offered up to hungry spectators. Viewers take their places around the water, wearing shirts with their favorite boat's number and name scrawled on with white paint or chalk. Unless they are awesome old ladies, then they watch como Dios manda, from their bff's apartment above the water.

  It's like a football game, where tailgating is done in off of communal grills and with huge plastic cups of cider or coke and wine, and where the action takes place in water and rarely lasts for more than ten seconds a go. Incredible.

Dolarea: Beasain, Basque Country

 As part of my travails with the first-ever San Sebastián Restaurant Week, which mostly include eating a lot for both lunch and dinner, I journeyed earlier this week out to the countryside with my loyal partner-in-crime, Conde de La Maza.

Our stop? Dolarea in Beasain. I thought I had no idea where it was, but it turns out I used to enjoy summer post-bike ride coffees there with a friend.

We sat down to some croquetas made with the famed local blood sausage, morcilla de Beasain.  The owner of the hotel and restaurant, Iban Mate, gave us a warm welcome. He was really a pleasure to talk to...passionate both about the food and the wine.

Then we moved on to a toasted Idiazabal salad, which was dressed with a txakoli vinaigrette. Iban likes to say that whites make much more interesting pairs for most cheeses, and if this salad was any testament, he's right.

 Next, a creamy scramble of kokotxas, those mysterious cuts of fish that translate to either cheek, jowl, or that piece of meat right around the throat. These were of bacalao, and this dish was SUPERB.

Then a dish that was instructive and delish...bacalao in a mix of sauces, one emulating the tomato pepper sauce they call vizcaína, the other a silky smooth version of garlicky pil pil.

And the dessert de resistance was a famed local creation, the pantxineta. Puff pastry, almonds, and pastry cream, accompanied by a bitter cream and a smoking shot glass of sweetened wine. 

This place is perfect for a nice lunch or dinner when exploring the countryside around Donosti-don't miss it.

365 tuesdays

Just a few miles outside of San Sebastián lies what could be the world's best anchovy producer, Anchoas Maisor. Whenever I get the urge on a random Saturday, I make my way to Itsas Mendi in Getaria, their storefront. I grab a few boxes of cured anchovies, some verdel, and the most essential item, jars of boquerones (what they call marinated anchovies in these parts). I take these anchovies, perfectly fileted and cleaned, home and top them with vinegar-macerated onion and peppers. The anchovies, topped with the tangy mixture and a drizzle of olive oil, all on a toasty piece of bread is the best snack ever.

Part of the 365 Cities project.

Anchoas Maisor
Puerto Getaria   |  ☏ 943 140 993
http://www.maisor.com/

The New Bodega in Town: K5 Txakoliña

Up on the hills overlooking the Bay of Biscay, about ten minutes from San Sebastián, is an experiment that could very well change the future of txakoli, the traditional white “table” wine of Basque Country.

Karlos Arguiñano, the Emeril Lagasse of Basque people, has started a bodega with a few of his friends to see just how high-end txakoli, done without cutting corners, can taste. To understand why that is even necessary, you have to know that there are lots of dirty secrets in the txakoli industry. 

Arguiñano and his associates decided to take matters into their own hands and open K5 Txakoliña, and focus on making a txakoli using only local grapes, for example.  Txakoli almost died out in the last century due to industrialization in the Basque Country and a grape sickness.  The granting of Denominación de Origen in the 1990′s, however, promoted a resurgence.  Now it is made in the Gipuzkoa province as well as Araba and Vizkaya. It is made with two grape varietals: Hondarribi Zuria and Hondarribi Beltza.

 They take their time, not needing to rush bottles to market. An interesting point of the K5 txakoli: normally txakoli is drunk within a year, but the vintners at K5 expect it to remain tasty, perhaps even get better, over the course of three to four.

There are many such things that differentiate this bodega: the process of destemming all the grapes, not common in txakoli makers. Using the majority of the pressed liquid for txakoli vinegar, instead of marketing inferior quality txakoli. Waiting until the ideal harvest time, instead of harvesting early and adding sugar.

So friend Ben laid out some of the world's best anchovies and poured me and a few friends a taste and...wow. This txakoli is different! It's noticeably less agressive and bubbly in the mouth. It's got a fuller flavor. And with plans to distribute to the United States, soon it will be available for you to try! 

Another chapter in the history of txakoli...