Gallecia is the 2nd poorest province in spain, yet abounds with natural resources, fertile land, and enough rain to sustain livestock, lush vegetables, and grains.
This is a land of sparse wealth controlled by old hands adorned in vestments of the church, and isolation from the rest of Spain. It
was thought, before the time of Christoph Colon (Chris Columbus to the west) that Gallecia marked the last edges of the world to the East, where the tradewinds blew steadily off the African Coast into a seemlingly infinate azure swathe of tumultous pacific ocean. Bordered to the east by a mountain ridge that made trade of fresh produce (Fish, livestock, vegetables) impossible before the advent of a train system, Gallecia was raised in relative isolation from the rest of Spain, and certainly from the rest of Europe. It would take twice as long to go the same distance to sleepy Gallecia as it would to sequre the same commodeties from the medeterranian side of spain that shared a sea with nearby rich allies.
I have been watching a documentary series called “How the earth changed history”. It is a detailed and scientifically savvy explaination of how the basic geological forces of deep earth movement, wind patterns, water cycles, and the behavior of fire, have created differences in culture throughout the world. Applying the understanding this series has introduced to me on the effects of geology on society to the behavior and food of this region, we can see how the mountain range to the east of Gallecia, and the bordering of the Pacific ocean near the colder northern currents and above the tradewinds has set the stage for a modern day Gallecia of sparse wealth, hard times, and a family structure of authoritarian matriarchy to conserve the resources of the family.
The land in the north of Gallecia heats up far faster than the cold pacific, with its deep rocky shoreline and chilled northern currents flowing off from near Ireland. This creates a sort of convection which forces moisture laden clouds inland at low altitude, which quickly rise as they reach the mountain range. They drop their rain on the coastal side of the mountains, creating a climate where the wind actually blows in the oppostie direction of the rainfal (toward the coast), but the rain comes steadily througout the year. This damp exsistence must have seemed a second home to the Celts, who took an easy ride on the currents from the north down to Gallecia in ancient times. Isolated from the rest of spain, Celtic culture flourished. With plenty of rain, and short bursts of intense sunshine, cows and pigs ruled the day, contributing to a diet rich in fat and starchy vegetables.
When the Catholic church took over Gallecia and converted the Celts who lived here, they bought with them the methods for curing meats, such as chorizo, and serrano ham. Soon the majority of food that was considered Gallecian were basically Celtic dishes such as meatballs in brown sauce, and big cuts of overcooked pork or boiled seafood, always served with plenty of bread, and potatoes.
Everything here swims in olive oil or is deep fried. The fried potatoes resemble french fries but aren’t crunchy. The smoking point of olive oil is too low to caramalize the carbohydrates in the starchy potatoes (and they also don’t blanche them so it would be hard to get a crispy texture to begin with) so the result is more like a potato strip that is boiled in olive oil, rather than becoming crunchy. This translates to the vegetables too; all vegetables are cooked for at least 15-20 minutes in stock, making them more akin to a stew. Peas, brussel sprouts, and carrots, are all cooked for at least 30 minutes at high heat. Peices of pork loin and chicken are nearly always cooked millianese style (breaded and panfried in olive oil).
Common tapas items are as follows: croquettes of potato (finger sized potato and cheese balls that are deep fried, like cheese sticks), various charcuterie tostadas (peices of bread with salami or pork fat, or chorizo slices on top served cold), green olives, tortilla espanola (which is soft fried potatoes and onions mixed with egg to make a large omlette, and then cut into pie slices or cubes, russian salad (which is a mayonaise bound salad of canned vegetables and potatoes), Zorza (peices of pork roasted with paprika and salt, and served with potatoes, basically chorizo before it is ground up. Zorza is actually what they used to use to test a batch of chorizo before grinding it so they knew if the spice mixture was correct), chicken wings cooked in olive oil with garlic and parsley, bread, and of course potatoes (chips, or their version of french fries)
Needless to say it is difficult to eat healthy here.
I have resorted to buying yogurt from the store across from my house, and fruit from around the neighbourhood, and going to the suppliment store that I found and buying tubs of protein powder in order to get enough protein in my diet for intense physical activity without eating a billion calories worth of oil and fat, or simply binging on carbs all day long like the locals do. Everyone has a slight gut here, due to the spiking insulin levels that go along with a carb rich diet that is low in fibrous vegetables. Any fibre they would consume they destroy with heat until it is useless to the body. I imagine people don’t poo very often here.
Wine and beer are the same price as other drinks. It is very easy here to end up accidentally only eating bread, potatoes, and meat, and drinking all day.
Today I was cooking myself breakfast and my homestay host pepita actually turned the heat down on my stove. I turned it back up immediately and gave her a sideways look like “excuuse me?” she protested ” EL FUEGO ES MAS ALTO!” (the fire/heat is too high). I responded “No! es perfecto!”. She turned the heat down again which honestly was exactly the perfect tempurature to make fried rice, slightly hotter than a sizzle so I could get a little bit of color on the pork I was searing for the rice. I turned it back up and gave her a very stern look that had the weight of my convictions behind it. She seemed frazzled and finally left me alone.
In this culture, men are weak. This is not the Spain of the south. Women rule the household, and boys are boys untill they are married, whereby they become dependant husbands. Men seem to wards of the women in the house their entire lives, creating a social dynamic that spreads to all areas of life. People walk slowly, wake up late, eat before bed, sleep during the day, and are destined to sit on a park bench arguing about politics for hours when they are older, as wards of the state. 35% of Gallecia’s population is over 65 years old, and in Spain they are on 100% government pensions. Combine this with the fact that the population growth in this region is -0.83% per year (there is a net loss of population per year), it is easy to see why the economic crises refuses to resolve. The geographicly induced poverty of the past is now the economic struggle of the present. The working force are spinning their wheels to support the dying matriarchs.
I try constantly to cook for myself here. I am met with constant opposition. This stupid boy doesn’t know anything, he won’t even eat bread! Pepita is convinced I have the palate of a baby. She mistakes my aversion to her cooking methods and desire for complete independence from her, as simple fussing like a 2 year old would do. She attempts to correct how I use kitchen tools (something I pride myself on being very skilled at. I can’t really get it through to her that I am classically trained in French cuisine… she gets it but doesn’t give a fuck. I am a baby to her, like her 22 year old son is. Her idea of eating healthy is simmering vegetables in oil at a low heat, without seasoning, cut up into tiny pieces, then draining off the oil rather than keeping it on the plate. If I sound mad it is because I feel stifled. My passion is fresh healthy food, prepared in vibrant ways. My philosophy is that our job as cooks is to bring out the natural flavor in quality products, and do as little as possible to destroy their inherent perfection. I am at odds, but am working hard to be active and healthy here.
Talking with Robyn every day since she has returned has helped me find my motivation again. I have been going to the gym for an hour each day during the weekdays to make up for this lifestyle. When I get home to Canada I want to start the p90x program (hopefully Robyn will join me in it). Basically it is a super extreme intensive 90 day full body muscle confusion program that is designed to ramp up the fitness level of people who are already in good shape.
Thats enough for now. Maybe I will add some pics in later.
Ciao
“Uno de enero, dos de febrero,
An old woman sweeps dirt away
Life Right Now: Musing and Drooling 