Rioja & Spanish Tapas

My girlfriend, Alfonsina, invited me to a Rioja & Tapas party hosted by a friend of hers. It was going to be a funfilled, and probably financially gaining night. Everyone was supposed to bring a dish of Spanish tapas to accompany the Rioja wine tasting competition.

Excited for the event, I searched the Internet for something easy to make. And I found this:

Tortillitas de Camarones 

The website boasted "these crisp, delicious shrimp fritters only in Andalusia, where deep-frying reigns supreme. They are at their best when made with chickpea flour, but regular flour is just OK. For the best results, fry only a few fritters at a time so that the oil temperature doesn't drop, as a constant high temperature keeps the tortillitas from absorbing excess oil. Even though the shrimp are minced, I recommend using small shrimp, which are more tender than large ones. And if you were shopping in Andalusia or in the Canary Islands, you would ask for camarones, just as you would in most of Central of South America, whereas everywhere else in Spain, you would ask for gambas.

• Serves 6

Ingredients

• 1/2 pound small shrimp, peeled
• 1 1/2 cups chickpea or regular flour
• 1 tablespoon chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
• 3 scallions, white part and a little of the tender green tops, finely chopped
• 1/2 teaspoon sweet pimenton (sweet paprika)
• Salt
• Olive oil for deep-frying

Preparation

          In a saucepan, combine the shrimp with water to cover and bring to a boil over high heat. As soon as the water starts to boil, quickly lift out the shrimp with a slotted spoon and set aside. Scoop out 1 cup of the cooking water and let cool. Discard the remaining water. When the shrimp are cool, cover and refrigerate until needed.

          To make the batter, combine the flour, parsley, scallions and pimenton in a bowl or a food processor. Add a pinch of salt and the cooled cooking water. Mix or process well until you obtain a texture slightly thicker than a pancake batter. Cover and refrigerate for 1 hour.

          Remove the shrimp from the refrigerator and mince finely. The pieces should be the size of coffee grounds. Remove the batter from the refrigerator, add the shrimp, and mix well.

          Pour the olive oil to a depth of about 1 inch into a  heavy sauté pan and heat over high heat until it is almost smoking. Add 1 tablespoon of the batter to the oil for each fritter and, using the back of the spoon, immediately flatten the batter into a round 3 1/2 inches in diameter. Do not crowd the pan. 

          Fry, turning once, for about 1 minute on each side, or until the fritters are golden and very crisp with what Spanish cooks call puntillas, or lacelike formations, on the borders. 

          Using a slotted spoon, lift out the fritters, holding them briefly over the pan to allow the excess oil to drain, and transfer to an ovenproof platter lined with paper towels to drain further.

          Keep the fritters warm in a low oven. Fry the rest of the batter in the same way, always making sure the oil is very hot before frying more fritters.

          When all the fritters are fried, arrange them on a platter and serve immediately.

I proceeded to make the dish, following the instructions to the tee. Where it said to "add a pinch of salt", I added a PINCH of salt. I fried up the first batch. They looked and smelled delicious! Oh but wait, this blog doesn't contain the word "crazy" for nuthin'...

Let me get to the good stuff first.

Wait a minute... back up. 

What the heck is this? Those look more like roast beef, turkey breast, and ham. Not Spanish jamón. 


Crazy!

For I added only a PINCH of salt where called for in the recipe. Needless to say, Preacher and Sonya loved me for the next three days after that night.  Those fritters - that's basically what they were, after I ruined them - weren't fit for consumption! Maybe only if one drinks six bottles of wine would my fancy fritters then be edible.


Speaking of wine, let me get off this humiliating topic, and get on to the better part of the evening. The Rioja, made from grapes grown (mostly) in La Rioja, Spain. Each couple brought a bottle of Rioja, which were then covered and numbered. Five dollars from each couple went into a pot for the wine tasting competition.

Each guest was then wrote the number of their favorite wine on a piece of paper. At nine o'clock the votes were tallied, and the guest who brought the wine that received the most votes took home the pot.

 

This is what six bottles of Rioja and fantastic Spanish tapas (and a crazy platter of American cold cuts) do for a party...

  

This photo reminds me of a scene that could be from The Sopranos...

  

 

You know one is Italian when he or she talks with their hands.

 

And by the profile of the nose. See?
 

 

Hey Danny, how's your neighborhood?

You know, Billy, the garbage truck hasn't come by in three weeks now!

 

Do they look like Carmela or what?
 

It's time go home when...

1. The man of the house has had enough of the noisy adults.

2. The clock strikes more than ten times.

3. The Rioja runs dry.

Ah, Argentinians throw an awesome party!

Bada bing!

.