The fame in Spain
Exploring the unique chemistry of Europe’s most innovative culture
By Clive Irving
updated 11:26 p.m. MT, Sun., Jan. 20, 2008
You can learn a lot about Spanish history by looking at a plate of paella. First, consider the large bowl it’s often served in, shallow and a bit wok-like, as well as the larger one it’s cooked in — both are derived from a Roman utensil. (The very word paella is said to come from patella, Latin for “pan.”) Then there’s the rice, which came to Spain in the eighth century, imported by the Moors, who planted it in the wetlands at the edge of the freshwater Albufera lagoon, south of the port of Valencia. The orangy stain on the rice comes from saffron, which the Arabs found in Persia and began cultivating in Spain in the tenth century. And finally, there are the olive oil and peppers, both native to the Iberian Peninsula, and the meat — chicken and/or rabbit — cheap and local, but elevated to succulence by the chemistry of the pan.
I tend to do a lot of reflecting with the help of gastric juices (after all, what is the point of travel if you don’t salivate over the local dishes?), and this, the paella insight, came as I was enjoying a takeaway street version of the dish, lowly but adequate, from a popular joint next to the Central Market in Valencia. Paella lore is as riven with disputes about ingredients and cooking method as it is ancient, but one thing is sure: Valencia was where the concoction evolved.
