Spring has Sprung. Supposedly

Wisteria. I told ya it was spring!

Spring has sprung in Galicia. The flowers know this. They have been blooming like crazy. The geese know this. They've laid eggs and had a cute little gosling! The loquats (nísperos) know this. They're available for a limited time only at fruit stands and supermarkets, so I've been loading up on them. But does the weather know this?? Apparently not! For every three days of summer-is-around-the-corner sunshine and temperatures, it seems like we have seven days of cold rain. I get that spring means showers. April showers bring May flowers has its equivalent in Spanish (abril, aguas mil). But it's now mid-May and the highs barely crawl up to 60ºF. It's so confusing; it feels like it's November and time to start cozying up inside for the upcoming winter rather than getting outside because summer's almost here! At least we have the flowers to remind us what season we are really in.

And this has been your weather report for Galicia.

Blackout!

¨Here we go again,¨ I thought as I rolled my eyes last Monday a little after noon. The power had gone out once again. It has been going out on a monthly basis at our house since the New Year. Apparently this is almost normal in the countryside, as there are more trees that can fall and cut the powerlines. 

It wasn't until my cousin from back home wrote to check in and see if we had been affected by power outages. How did she know that? Then I checked out the local newspaper's website. What I assumed was yet another power outage affecting a few houses in our little hamlet turned out to be a massive blackout throughout Spain, Portugal, and on to other European countries. Wha-huh?!

Luckily for us, I had just finished boiling some eggs for egg salad sandwiches, so lunch was saved. And while I feared this could be a days-long episode, power was restored to our corner of Galicia a mere six hours later. As we don't live in the city, I didn't get to witness the chaos or boredom first hand. But the next day there were pictures and interviews in the newspaper online. It was a nice day, so natural light illuminated homes and the shops that stayed open (to accept cash only, obviously). Apparently one ice cream shop started giving away their stock when they saw that it was melting. Good on them! The blackout also meant no traffic lights, so the traffic department advised against driving unnecessarily. So I cancelled my classes and stayed home until the power came back. Which even after it did, there was no cell service or Whatsapp to communicate until nighttime. Really old school! But the message came through that school was cancelled the following day.

The experience reminded me of a blackout in my youth, which seemed to last for days, but maybe that wasn't the case. After this incident (and keeping in mind that our power goes off frequently), we may just put buying a generator higher on our list of priorities.

Cheeseheads Unite!

Tetilla. Arzúa-Ulloa. Cebreiro. These three Galician cheeses literally and figuratively pale in comparison to the smoked San Simón da Costa cheese. For me, golden San Simón is the best Galician cheese. And dare I say my favorite Spanish cheese. Can't beat that smoky taste! And this year I finally got around to surrounding myself with the delicious cheese (and free samples) at its annual festival held in Vilalba, capital of the Terra Chá in the province of Lugo.

San Simón is a golden, tear-shaped cheese made from cow milk and smoked on birch wood. The cheese is preserved by the EU's  Protected Designation of Origin. Meaning if it's not made within the town limits of Vilalba with cows from the Terra Chá (as well as a series of other requirements), well then it just isn't San Simón da Costa. In Galician and Spanish the abbreviation of Protected Designation of Origin is DOP, initials you can find stamped on wines and cheeses. Galicia alone has the four aforementioned DOP cheeses and five DOP wines.

The Big Cheese

This year I was once again on the fence about attending the Cheese Festival because of the weather. April showers bring May flowers, and the first weekend of April this year was gloomy. But then I recalled what some local friends had told me my first year here: If you put off plans because of the rain, in Galicia you'll never have plans. So off we went, and I'm glad we did. Plus the weather held up! 

We arrived shortly after lunchtime as the stands were just starting to reopen. It turns out there are less than 10 authorized San Simón cheesemakers, so other cheeses were also present. In fact, there were cheeses from around Spain and even other countries such as France, Portugal, and Switzerland. While cheese was obviously the star of the show, there were also stands with honey, deli meats, plants, and miscellaneous products. There was also a representative from the European Cheese Route, an organization which tries to connect local DOP cheeses and tourism. At that stand we did a little quiz trying out seven cheeses from around Spain.

Carlos Blanco

The opening speech further enticed us to brave the rain clouds. This year's pregoeiro (town crier?) was Carlos Blanco, a well-known Galician comedic actor. He got his break on a TVG (Galician TV) show and now does stand up. We spotted him browsing the stalls before the speech, and asked for a picture. One of the highlights of his speech was that as a child he always wondered why it was called San Simón da Costa, being from Vilalba. ¨Where's the coast?¨ (Apparently, it's because that tiny hamlet of San Simón is where the Terra Chá [literally flat earth] starts to go upwards and get hilly. Costa in Galician means both slope and coast) He also read some opening speeches that AI had prepared for them and honestly it was creepy how poetic they were and also how much AI knows about San Simón cheese. 

After a few hours circling the stands, hearing the opening comments, and having a drink, we left for home, with our own San Simón cheese in hand. I chose Catadoiro because I'd never seen it in grocery stores and also because the owners/cheesemakers just seemed sweet. I must have good taste, because the brand came in second in a Spanish taste test in the category of smoked cheese. Catadoiro Calidade!

Calçotada (A Catalan Import)

Calçots ready for grilling

Thin, green and white cousins of the onion. They're not leeks, they're calçots! Calçots are not typical Galician or even Spanish. Rather, they are from the region of Catalonia, where they have their EU Protected Geographical Location. There is also even a name for the celebration that revolves around eating these mild green onions: a calçotada.

Calçots are prepared by the dozen on the grill, roasting them until blackened on the outside. Then you wrap them in newspaper for a few minutes and they're ready to serve. This is not a dainty dish. With your fingers, you must first gently slide off the outer, charred layer of calçot. Then dunk in a special orange sauce. And then down the hatch! Since calçots are long, they take a few bites, leaving time to drip sauce all down your shirt. That's why people usually wear bibs. 

Store-bought sauce

The sauce is what got me hooked on calçots, to be honest, because without it they are quite bland. We usually dip in homemade Romesco, a sauce made with tomatoes, garlic, and almonds (or other nuts). Apparently though, there is a specific sauce for the calçots which isn't exactly Romesco. Similarly to a chili at home, every family has their own variation for their special sauce. After years of having it, I had gotten a little sick of the calçot sauce. But I'm happy to report that this year our Catalan friend brought his own batch of sauce and once again I was a fan. 

Needless to say, we have borrowed the Catalan tradition at our house. We've been hosting calçotadas since right before the pandemic. For us it's a time to kick off the spring with a cookout. Although unfortunately-- but perhaps not surprisingly for Galicia-- the last two years we've had to eat indoors. This year was a first though: we even cooked the calçots inside in the fireplace. They were just as charred though, so no problem there. We can only hope that next year's calçotada will be sunny enough to enjoy outside.

A novel way to grill calçots

Cachena: It's What's for Dinner

Galicia prides itself on its native species. These livestock species include the Mos hen (galiña de Mos), Galician sheep (ovella galega) and goat (cabra galega), as well as five breeds of cows: Vianesa, Cachena, Caldelá, Frieiresa, and Limiá. They may also include the Celtic pig (porco celta) and Purebred Galician Horse (cabalo de pura raza galega), depending on who you ask. The aforementioned species were all on the brink of disappearing at the end of the 20th century. The industrialization of farming and the meat industry had led to this decline in autochthonous cattle breeds. Instead of using cattle to plow the fields, they were using mechanized tractors. And the consumer trend went towards cheap and mass-produced meat rather than local, quality products. That's where BOAGA comes in. BOAGA was established to conserve, recover, and promote these eight livestock species. So now after their efforts trying to revive the populations, four of those five cattle breeds can boast around or over 2000 specimens. (Poor Frieiresa is left out and barely has 900 cows) Perhaps the most well-known of the bunch is the longhorn Cachena.

Smile for the camera, Cacheniñas!

I had a close encounter with Cachenas three years ago when I worked at an international agricultural conference held here in Galicia. During it, one of the outings that I worked on as an interpreter was to a Cachena farm in O Incio. Unfortunately for me, I didn't take notes and have a terrible memory. But I remember being surprised that a man barely in his 30s was the farmer, given the fact that the average age of bovine farmers here is 57 years old. After an open Q&A with the guy, we hiked out to the meadow where the cows were grazing under drizzly skies. For me, it was worth braving the rain, because Cachena cows are just so photogenic!

100% Certified Autochthonous!

Fast forward to this year. We ordered a half of a Cachena. Well, a quarter, as we split it with friends. Slaughter the fattened cow! Just Galician things? Just Spanish things? Just European things? I don't know, but nobody I know back home has bought a whole or half of a slaughtered cow. You'd be surprised how much meat half a quarter of a heifer makes. Thank goodness we have an extra freezer! We won't need to buy any type of beef for months. And our purchase came neatly organized in tons of vacuum-sealed packages, each labeled with the name of the cut. Handy! As someone who barely knows the names of cuts of meat in her own language, I'm equally clueless in Spanish/Galician. I'm going to need a cheat sheet, because I wouldn't want to use something optimum for grilling in a stew!

Feeling inspired while researching these previously endangered native species, I got a cookbook specifically meant for cooking with autochthonous breeds from the library. And after reading Presentation, Prologue, and Introduction, well, I have half a mind to buy a plot of land and raise some Galician cows! That's not very realistic, though, so for now I'll stick to buying 100% raza autóctona meat products.

Sources:

Governmental Cow Counts 

Cookbook

Carnival is Coming

The ¨dollar stores¨ fill up with costumes and grocery stores suddenly have a surplus of salted meats. Pork faces abound! It's time for Carnival, in Galicia called Entroido (or sometimes even Antroido). While originally I had hoped to be blogging all about the gay old time we were to have at a Carnival celebration in Northern Portugal, due to unforeseen circumstances we had to cancel. This year I will likely go to a nearby Entroido I've already seen. Of course, it's better than nothing.

So until the next new Entroido experience, I shall leave you with a picture from the local produce store. Back home people would find it quite revolting, but here nobody bats an eye. On other occasions I've even seen the pig face perched on a scarecrow-like body! Needless to say, this is a lot less creepy. Bo Entroido!