DIY Dinners: José Pizarro
Flipping heck I want a holiday. One morning in late August, I found myself googling whether or not it was possible to block pictures of beaches from my Instagram feed. Having last left the country in January to visit a rather snowy upstate New York, encountering the 18th photo of an idyllic Grecian cove before 10am had rather made me snap.
I know I am hugely lucky to have had a summer getaway become customary since my teens. I can, of course, cope without it. But, as we all know, 2020 is different – having not left the house much since March (anxiety-tinged asthmatic alert), a wistful longing for Negronis in an Amalfi piazza became a social media-inflated sulk.
That, however, is where food comes in. Food saved my summer. My first meal out after the end of Lockdown 1.0 was at The Garden at The Berkeley, a warm afternoon spent outdoors with my dad eating barbecued octopus in the sun with a glass of wine in hand – it felt like bloody paradise. Another equally balmy evening was spent snacking in the garden until dark on cured meats and cheeses from Italian deli Vallebona, accompanied by an Aperol Spritz or three (the perfect tonic to having unwittingly ingested 27 photos of Positano that day). If I had not then deigned to turn every other summer dinner after that into a barbecue, my August sulk would have been a full-blown tantrum.
Fast forward a few months, and it is now definitely too cold for barbecues, and I have still not gone on holiday. Instagram has swapped sandy toes for shearling coats, and so I am less intermittently irate. My subconscious, however, chose just two weeks ago to inflict on the most perfect dream on me, one of a paella dinner with 10 friends on a beach on the Costa Brava. Bastard.
Luckily, however, José Pizarro continues to be ready and waiting to satiate these most unseasonal cravings. Bermondsey’s star Spaniard was relatively quick out the blocks to rework his superb tapas dishes for DIY and delivery back in spring, but I only managed to get my taste of his Finish At Home dishes on a chilly November afternoon.
Good things come to those who wait. Admittedly, I waited a little longer that I had hoped, finding it slightly arduous to track down the cooking instructions for my kit (I know now that José and his husband Peter have made some lovely YouTube tutorial videos, but alas I am easily distracted and require written orders).
Once I got going, there was no stopping me. Plump gordal olives (named for the Spanish word for “fat”) came stuffed with orange, and were duly snacked upon while the oven heated up. Within 10 minutes or so of unchallenging “cooking”, I had myself a delightful repast for two. Greeted with the glee and comfort of meeting a much-missed friend, portions of tortilla de patatas came dotted with manzanilla olives and memories of both nights-out and mornings-after in Madrid.
Pan con tomate, an absolute forever-favourite of mine, came with a glistening tomato dressing, ripe in acid, ready to be tempered by the addition of a little bottle of José’s own olive oil and a generous sprinkling of sea salt flakes. I would, however, recommend toasting the bread for a little longer (or not letting it hang around for as long as I did) to ward off the dreaded sog.
The kit I tried was a little different to José’s usual offering, having been kindly sent to me as part of a collab with Olives From Spain (hence the proliferation of olives). For me, this could not have gone better. My parents frequently recall how, when I was about four, they asked me if I would rather have a bowl of sweets, or a bowl of olives. Naturally, I was baffled by such a ridiculous question, and immediately answered “olives”.
The final element of the lunch was the finest – a tumbling pile of salt cod buñuelos (containing olives, of course). Salt cod is one of the Iberian Peninsula’s most curious culinary obsessions. It’s a fish that lives absolutely nowhere near Spain or Portugal, but after centuries of it being shipped from chilly Atlantic waters to the sunnier bits of Europe (while preserved in salt), it’s become an immovable staple in the region. I love it, and these crispy, saline bundles are an excellent way of showing it off, enriched with a little fruitiness from the gordal olives and offset with creamy alioli.
Sadly, these buñuelos aren’t currently on José’s Finish At Home menu (but luckily his legendary croquetas are). José has, however, kindly popped along his recipe for them, which you can have a go at below. Lucky me just shoved pre-made ones in the oven for a bit and I haven’t had a chance to have a crack at the recipe yet so please let me know how it goes (I’m new to this blogging thing, ok?).
So, like a poor little codfish, I continue to be confined to my frigid natural habitat, but things could be worse. If it weren’t for the likes of José Pizarro, I’d be salting myself up ready for export any day now.
José Pizarro’s recipe for olive and salt cod buñuelos
INGREDIENTS
Makes about 20
120g pitted gordal olives, roughly chopped
500g salt cod
450g floury potatoes, cut into chunks
3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 garlic clove, grated
25g plain flour
1 large free range egg
1ltr vegetable or mild olive oil to deep fry
For the alioli
2 free range egg yolks
1 clove garlic, grated
2 tsp apple vinegar
Pinch saffron strands
1tbsp of hot water
250ml light olive oil
50ml extra virgin olive oil
Lemon juice to taste
METHOD
Soak the salt cod for 36 hours in cold water, changing every so often. Drain and cut into 2cm chunks.
Put the potatoes in a pan of cold salted water, bring to the boil then simmer for 15 minutes until tender but not broken down. Drain well.
Meanwhile, cover the salt cod with cold water and bring to a rolling boil then drain, reserving 175ml of the cooking water. Remove the skin and bones and flake up the fish.
Heat the oil and garlic together over a low heat for a minute until aromatic then stir in the flour and cook for a minute more. Gradually add the cooking water, stirring till you have a smooth thick sauce. Fold in the olives and tip into a stand mixer with a paddle attachment.
Add the cod and potatoes and beat until combined and most of the cod and potatoes have broken down but it’s not yet smooth then beat in the egg. You can do this vigorously with a wooden spoon as well. Spoon into a bowl and cover and chill for at least three hours.
Make the alioli. Whisk the yolks with the vinegar and a good pinch of sea salt and ground white pepper. Steep the saffron in the water for a minute then add to the egg yolks with the garlic. Gradually whisk in the oils until you have. Thick glossy, vibrant yellow alioli. Add lemon juice to taste.
Heat the oil in a deep sided saucepan to 180c. Use two dessert spoons to scoop and shape spoonfuls of the buñuelos mixture together, making sure you press it together well, and drop them into the hot oil a few at a time and cook for 2-3 minutes until golden.
Drain on kitchen paper and repeat with the rest of mixture. Serve hot with the alioli to dunk them in.
Recipe provided by José Pizarro and Olives From Spain. This DIY kit was supplied as a complimentary press sample.
For more information, visit josepizarro.com