2005

	The Food of Spain and Portugal: A Regional Guide It's beautifully written, lavishly illustrated... packed with the fascinating food history of these countries, as well as delectable recipes.
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``I've spoken Spanish since I was 5 years old; I was a child in South America,'' she explained, over the telephone from her home in Wales. ``My stepfather was a diplomat. He was posted to Madrid when I was 13 or 14. The kitchen was always full of Spaniards. That was where I liked to be. I used to go home with the maid or the cook or whoever it was at the weekends.''

The defining aspect of Iberian cooking, according to Luard, is its sense of place. It is a cuisine of territory.

``The individuality of Spain and Portugal's regionality is quite remarkable,'' she said. ``The differences between the regions are very, very marked. (It's) what you grow in your back garden, what you get from the hills, whether you're close to a seaport, whether, in your family, there's somebody who's milling olives or somebody who takes a boat out. There's a dictation that everyone understands - a language - for even each village, even each household.

``If you keep a pig, if you have a cousin who lives in the mountains and you live on the shore, you send your hams up there to get your hams cured,'' she continued. ``People know the routes that were taken, the various trade routes - sometimes smuggling, sometimes the donkey route from the shore up the mountain. People ate according to how high up the mountain they were. Down below, they got the better whitefish and, higher up the mountain, you'd get the anchovies or the things that could last longer or were cheaper.''

Luard calls it ``reaction cooking.''

``Reaction cooking is reacting to what's in the marketplace,'' she said. ``You never actually decide what you're going to cook until you go to the marketplace and see what's cheap and see what's good. You go three or four times a week. You know what's coming in, in the seasons in your area. It's very much an absolute local awareness of what's going on in quite a short radius.''

In ``The Food of Spain and Portugal,'' Luard crisscrosses both countries, culling the best regional recipes from the best regional cooks.

``I'm constantly amazed at how good the food can be (even) if you pull into a gas station with a restaurant attached to it,'' she said. ``People know exactly what the food is supposed to taste like. The classic recipes of a region appear again and again but sometimes prepared by really good cooks. It was the most delicious of these regional dishes that I looked for.''

Luard's book paints a vivid picture of the variety and vitality of Iberian food.

``It's a bit big to carry with you, but I hope people will bring it when they travel to Spain and Portugal,'' she said. ``It will give you an insight into people's lives and characters by knowing how they cook and what they're seeing when they go around the marketplace.''

Pez Espada en Salsa de Azafran

(Swordfish in saffron sauce)

• 4 thick swordfish steaks
• About 1 T. flour, seasoned with salt and pepper
• 6 T. olive oil
• 2 onions, finely sliced
• 2 garlic cloves, skinned and finely chopped
• ¼ c. pine nuts
• 1 egg yolk
• 1 glass sherry or white wine
• Strip of lemon zest
• 1 bay leaf
• ¼ t. saffron threads, toasted in a dry pan
• Salt and pepper

Salt the swordfish steaks lightly, dust with flour to protect the delicate flesh and fry them in 1 T. olive oil on both sides until gilded and firm (2-3 minutes per side), then reserve. Heat the remaining olive oil in the frying pan and fry the onions and garlic gently until they soften and turn golden - don't let them brown. Push them to one side and fry the pine nuts until golden, then remove the pan from the heat. Whisk the egg yolk with the sherry or wine and stir it into the onions. Return to a low heat, add the lemon zest, bay leaf and saffron and stir until the mixture thickens to a cream - don't let it curdle. Remove the lemon zest and bay leaf and spoon the sauce over the swordfish. Good with migas (roughly torn bread fried golden in olive oil). Makes 4 servings.

From ``The Food of Spain and Portugal'' by Elisabeth Luard (Kyle Books, 2005).

Bola de Familia

(Polenta and orange cake)

• 1 ¼ c. flour
• 1 T. baking powder
• ½ t. salt
• 2/3c. coarse-ground cornmeal
• 1 c. sugar
• 1 c. mild olive oil
• 4 medium eggs
• Juice and finely grated zest of 2 bitter (Seville) oranges (if unavailable, substitute a sweet orange and a lemon)

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Sift the flour into a bowl with the baking powder and salt, and add the cornmeal and sugar, tossing lightly to mix. Make a dip in the middle and pour in the oil. Drop in the eggs and, using your hand at first, then a wooden spoon, mix thoroughly until there are no lumps left. Add the orange zest and juice (save a little for the pan) to create a mixture that drops softly from the spoon. You might need to add a little water if the mixture is too stiff.

Lightly grease a 7-inch-square cake pan and line the bottom with parchment paper. Brush the paper and the sides of the pan with orange juice. Drop the mixture into the pan, smoothing it into the corners and flattening the top. Bake for about 1 1/4hours (check after an hour), until the cake is well-risen, has shrunk from the sides and is firm to the touch. Let it rest for 10 minutes before gently transferring it onto a wire rack and peeling off the paper. Slice and serve with coffee. Makes 8 servings.

From ``The Food of Spain and Portugal'' by Elisabeth Luard (Kyle Books, 2005).