Tannic Teeth

Tapas is today what “sun-dried tomato and basil” was in the 1990s.

You can’t dine at any small bar without hearing the words tapas, tapasy, share-plates and the likes.

In many ways it’s a welcome change to the usual stiff formality of  Anglo-Gallic cuisine that calls for the traditional entree, main, dessert.

We live in an age where we like to have more options. And let’s face it, we all know the questioning eyebrow we flick when we see a fellow diner order something better only to look down at our lack-lustre plate-of-boring.

I guess, it was only a matter of time before people wanted small meals that actually filled your belly like a bigger one. Diners needed options, and the Spanish had it for ages. The benefits are — for those who like to try all flavours under the sun — an endless procession of flavour.

Tapas etymologically is derived from the Spanish word tapar “to cover”. One of many tales of tapas-genesis are the Andalusian sherry drinkers who wanted to keep away hovering fruit fly. Committed not to have a fly in the ointment, they covered their glasses with a slice of bread. Bits of cured meats — salivatingly salty — served along side the bread, gave sherry drinkers a reason to stay on. To abate a salty tongue with more alcohol, restauranteurs loved the idea. Ta-dah, tapas!

True tapas is a mix of seafoods, slow-cooked  and cured meats, cheese of every description, and seasonal veggies. Convergent evolution has it’s benefits — Asia came up with Yum Cha.

Erring closer to contemporary tapas than something that would be found on an Andalusian street corner, we sizzled a few chorizo, dry battered fingers of haloumi and crunched it down with Onion and Thyme marmalade on the now ubiquitous turkish bread. To provide the redeeming flash of cleansing acidity, Larry Cherubino’s — The Yard ‘Channeybearup’ Pemberton Sauvignon Blanc 2009 was all that was needed.

[Insert here: a dew-fresh night, a temperamental gas heater, laughter-lines and smile-creases of full bellies in good company.]

Tasting for Cherubino The Yard ‘Channeybearup’ Pemberton Sauvignon Blanc 2009

“Valiantly standing in the face of the trans-Tasman Sauvignon Blanc tsunami, The Yard gives Australia (and Pemberton) something to ripple back to NZ. It’s pristine and highly varietal on the nose, polished gem-like in appearance holds nothing back on the palate. Gooseberry, nettle, some white peach as well. With texture that you just want to nibble at, piece-meal at a time, for the flavours burrow down into your tongue like a little lemon-lime driven auger. Impeccably balanced with a keen eye set on longevity, akin to a white Bordeaux. It takes guts to make SB in a market full of cheap imports — then to do it so well against the tide. 18.5 pts”

Cashing in the Eurasian craze and always up for trying something new, I had a few left over scraps from lunches past. Namely ’Yum Cha’ Squid tentecles (Yau yu sou) and Spanish Chorizo. I had also had some dried pasta which I had brainstruck with the idea of a squid tentecle and chorizo pasta dish, hence I was away mixing east and west flavours to create something of silkroad satisfacation. One clove of garlic and one [Nana's] chilli fried in the pan with chorizo pan drippings (obviously same pan where I fried the sausage), coupled with refried Yau yu sou, and spring onion and extra virgin olive oil.

The taste?

If I was more cautious in my approach to Nana’s chilli I would have perhaps enjoyed the dish a little more than the bright white of mouth searing pain. Yet again I have underestimated my family’s matriarch ‘asbestos’ palate. Nevertheless it tasted more East than West and my sinuses thanked me for a good purge.

The humble pig. It’s one of those creatures that we have farmed since domestication circa 5000-7000 years ago. Having a reputation for gluttony, the swine in many aspects mirror humans in greed, omnivorousness and internal physiology. Pig heart valves and skin tissue are used in modern medicine in replacing human parts during shortage or incompatibility. It’s not surprising as a pigs heart is roughly the same size and pulmonary capacity.

Pig meat (pork) is taboo in some cultures, considered ‘unclean’, possibly because many parasites and diseases are easily transferable to humans, especially via undercooked / undercured meat.

Which brings me to Chorizo. The quintessential Iberian cured sausage with distinctive taste. Often smoked, with chilli it’s one of those pork products that vegetarians relapse on time and time again. Fast becoming a staple on ‘tasting plates’ of many a cafe; it’s more often than not, overtly salty, oily and lacking any distinctive flavour (much like cheap fried polony-like taste). However be fortunate enough to get a quality one and your tastebuds will dance in celestial delight.

That, and bacon have been the villains in my brief vegetarian sojourn.

You can enjoy it raw, or fried, in soup or my favourite, pan fried and then ‘flame grilled’ over a naked gas flame. It makes the house smell heavenly of burnt pig fat eerily similar Hungry Jack’s but I tell you, the smell would get anybody out of bed or vegetarianism. Plus it looks cool with the exploding oil that gets burnt.