WARNING! – Non meat eaters may find the following article distasteful.

The most annoying aspect of Spanish chorizo is its outrageous pronunciation by so called celebrity TV chefs: personalities who really should know better. It’s quite simple: chore –ee – though, chorizo - please spread the word.

As for this spicy Iberian sausage, there’s a world of difference between the best and worst. A mistake at this point could result in a lifelong dislike. My suggestion would be to visit Galicia, and in particular Monforte de Lemos: I know just the place to buy the most delicious chorizo you will ever taste. 

Hidden down a back street on the outskirts of Monforte is a speciality pork butcher’s called Carniceria Real. The chorizo here is made from the finest pork fillet, spiced with peppers and pimiento, and oak
smoked in the traditional manner. Customers have a choice of two varieties; picante, which as the name suggests is devilishly spicy and dulce, which is not sweet but lacks the chilli flavoured kick of the former.

There must be a thousand and one recipes that include chorizo, but here are three of my favourites.

1. The quickest and easiest way to enjoy chorizo is by ordering a tapas or better still, making your own. Preparation is simple, even for me. 
 
Ingredients:
1 chorizo sausage
1 crusty loaf

Preparation:
Take one chorizo sausage and slice at right angles, creating rounds roughly 5mm thick. 
Place on top of a slice of crusty bread, preferable baked in a wood oven, and eat.

2. Chorizo al Infierno – Affectionately called, ‘The Flaming Pig’.

This recipe calls for a specialist piece of equipment called a cazuela choricera. Throughout Spain the size and shape of a cazuela choricera differs depending on the region. Here in Galicia, this earthenware pot is often crafted in the shape of a pig.

Ingredients:
1 chorizo sausage
1 crusty loaf
A good measure of aguardiente (local firewater)

Preperation:
Take one chorizo sausage and slice at right angles, creating rounds roughly 1cm thick. 
Pin the rounds onto a metal skewer
Pour the measure of aguardiente into the cazuela choricera and ignite.
Flambé the chorizo over the, ‘Flaming Pig’  
When cooked, place on top of a slice of crusty bread and eat.

3.
Galician Bean Feast – A spicy and aromatic dish created through a harmonious collaboration of husband and wife and based on an unsuccessful recipe found by me in a woman’s magazine. The original recipe called for tins of baked beans topped with raw eggs. The eggs cooked so slowly they took on the texture of rubber mouse mats. Undeterred by bouncing eggs, we revised the ingredients culminating in this mouth-watering dish. 
 
Ingredients:
6 chorizo sausages (4 dulce and 2 picante)
2 onions
1 340g tin of chopped tomatoes
450ml tomato frito (passata)
100gms dried red kidney beans
100gms dried white kidney beans
150gms jar of roasted red peppers
Seasoning to taste
*Definitely no eggs*

Preparation:
Soak beans overnight in water
Rinse beans and boil in salted water for half an hour or until soft, drain and set aside.
Chop onions
Heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a large pan. Add onions and soften.
De-skin chorizo and slice into 5mm rounds and add to onions.
Cook gentle until onions are coloured and flavoured by the chorizo.
Add tomatoes, tomato frito, beans, and chopped roasted peppers.
Season to taste and simmer gently for 40 minutes.

Serve with potato wedges and garlic bread for a mouth watering feast.

The culinary possibilities of the humble chorizo are limited only by one’s imagination, so go on; spice up your life.

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Would you like to experience the dream and sample the sights, sounds and tastes of Galicia? Then check this out http://www.getaway-galicia.com 

Craig’s book, Journey To A Dream, is available exclusively from Amazon, follow this link for your national store. http://bit.ly/188lOj2

Visit Craig’s website at http://www.journeytoadream.co.uk

Or join in the fun on Facebook http://facebook.com/craigbriggs.spain

There are many routes to Santiago de Compostela and many stops along the way, but few pilgrims will ever visit the town of Chantada.

Chantada is an unassuming little town in the heart of Galicia. It lies along the Camino del Sur or South way. This lesser known tributary of the Camino Frances or French way begins in the vineyards of Valdeorras. The route was popularised by winter pilgrims seeking to avoid the snow covered peaks around Cebreiro. 

It follows the course of the river Sil, passing through Quiroga and on into Monforte de Lemos: centre of the Ribeira Sacra wine growing region. From here the route takes pilgrims into the hills of O’ Saviñao,
across the great river Miño and on to the picturesque town of Chantada, via ancient Roman roads.

Over the last 10 years, Chantada has undergone a marvellous transformation. Buildings of architectural significance have been restored, public spaces refreshed and a sweeping footpath created along the banks of the river Asma.

The Camino enters the town from the southeast along Calle Conde de Guadalhorce. From the riverbank the road narrows and climbs up a steep cobbled street. Ancient medieval porticos line one side as it climbs upward and into a small square. This is the centre of the old town. From here, a labyrinth of narrow lanes criss-cross the town centre. Hiding within these small alleyways and shaded passages are a host of cafes, bars and interesting shops.

Continue on and you’ll meet the main high street, a crossroads between ancient and modern. Unlike many Spanish towns, this meeting is not an architectural collision but a smooth transition from old to
new.

Cross the street and join the pedestrianized thoroughfare. If you’re early enough, take a look at the range of fresh fish in the shop on the corner: landed in Vigo this morning; on the plate by lunchtime.

Stroll a little further and you’ll come across the restaurant, Centro. Dining in Galicia is as much about opinion as taste, and in my opinion this is one of the best Menu del Dia’s in the town: a hearty three course lunch with a bottle of the best house white in the area and all for a miserly 9 euros. For your main course why not try Merluza a la Romana: a succulent fillet of lightly battered hake, or Carne Guisada: slow cooked chunks of Galician beef in a rich sauce.

After lunch, stretch your legs and wander to the top of the street. This deceptively quiet, staggered crossroad forms the hub of Chantada’s nightlife on warm summer evenings. Roadside café/bars spill out onto the streets and locals gather to enjoy raucous conversation over a glass of local wine:
inky-red Mencia or lively Godello white.

Turn left here and head out of town. Within 300 metres the road crosses the Rio Asma. At the far side of the bridge a pathway leads down to the river’s edge. Meander your way along the footpath, following the course of the river; Chantada on your left and Galicia’s lush green meadows on the right.

Before long a modern suspension bridge slices dramatically across the river. This stunning piece of architecture fits comfortably into its ancient surroundings. A few hundred metres further and you’re back where you started the day: geographically equal yet spiritually enriched.

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Would you like to experience the dream and sample the sights, sounds and tastes of
Galicia? Then check this out  http://www.getaway-galicia.com
 
Craig’s book, Journey To A Dream, is available exclusively from Amazon, follow this link for your national store. http://bit.ly/188lOj2

Visit Craig’s website at http://www.journeytoadream.co.uk

Or join in the fun on Facebookhttp://facebook.com/craigbriggs.spain

According to many guide books, Galicia is credited with one of the most beautiful beaches in Spain: if not the world. Playa de Las Catedrales (Cathedral beach) is located on Galicia’s northern coast between the towns of Foz and Ribadeo.

For many years Pedro, one of our neighbours, has enthused over the magnificence of this small stretch of coastline. His memories of the beach, and the state sponsored holidays that took him there, go back to his childhood. 
 
History paints Francisco Franco as a dictator and tyrant; Pedro views him very differently. To him, Franco was the statesman responsible for sending him and his school friends, on an annual coach trip to the seaside. 
 
Today it’s difficult to imagine the enormity of such a long road trip. In the early 1970’s, Spain’s road infrastructure was very different to now. What a great adventure this must have been for excited young kids from rural Galicia. 

Before setting off on our day trip, I checked the tidal times on the internet. Arriving at low tide meant leaving the house at 9:30 am. As we left, a thick blanket of mist covered the countryside. We could only hope it cleared by the time we reached our destination.

In stark contrast to Pedro’s all-day coach journey, our drive took less than two hours. By the time we arrived, the cliff top car park was packed. I felt a sense of anticipation, verging on excitement, as we headed towards the sea. 

Photo’s of the beach show tall stacks angling into the sky, majestic archways chiselled from solid rock, and a series of buttress-like rock formations clinging to the cliff, as if holding it upright. With hindsight, my expectations were so high that disappointment seemed inevitable, and so it proved. 

By definition, a coastline affected by erosion will be constantly changing; many of the outstanding features have long since disappeared: washed away by a constant tidal pounding. One impressive archway remains along with many other interesting and dramatic features but I still felt a little disappointed.

In many ways it reminded me of our drive along the Great Ocean Road in Victoria, Australia back in 2008. One of the highlights of the drive is the Twelve Apostles: sculptured coastal stacks rising out of the great southern ocean. Unfortunately only seven remain, the rest have been pounded into submission by the same ocean that created them. 

Playa de Las Catedrales is without doubt a very beautiful and interesting beach but a word of caution, many of those glossy tour guide pictures were taken a very long time ago.

We returned to the beach at high tide and on this occasion I wasn’t disappointed. The giant stacks we’d walked among earlier in the day were now tiny islands, surrounded by the sea. Waves crashed against them shooting clouds of sea spray into the air.

The next time I bumped into Pedro I told him of my visit and asked, ‘Has the beach changed since you were a boy?’

‘No,’ said Pedro, ‘it’s exactly the same today as it was the first time I saw it, almost 40 years ago.’

At least on this small stretch of coastline, the sands of time are shifting slowly.   

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Experience the dream –sample the sights, sounds and tastes of Galicia. For details about our luxury farmhouse rental visit http://www.getaway-galicia.com
 
Craig’s book, Journey To A Dream, is available exclusively from Amazon, follow this link for your national store. http://bit.ly/188lOj2

Visit Craig’s website at http://www.journeytoadream.co.uk

Or join in the fun on Facebookhttp://facebook.com/craigbriggs.spain

I pulled the gates closed and we headed for the nearby village of Sober. A bright full moon lit our way. Chirping cicadas and croaking frogs filled the warm night air.  We’d arranged to meet some friends and
lend our support to the annual dancing competition.  

Ballroom dancing isn’t really my thing, although before Channel 4’s The Tube, there wasn’t much else to watch on late night telly: those were the days. I’d wander home from the pub, half-cut and hungry, switch on the TV and slump onto the settee. 

An hour or so later I’d wake up, blurry-eyed and starving. By the time the fat had melted in the chip pan, I would have managed to slice a few spuds into something resembling chips and miraculously still have all my fingers attached.   

By the time I returned to the lounge, Angela Rippon, host of the original Come Dancing show, would be
waiting for me. Everything about the show, and its competitors, seemed out of step with the times.

The venue was always a large ballroom, which in itself seemed like an historic paradox, with a full orchestra occupying one end of this mirror-balled palace.

The audience consisted of small groups of smartly dressed individuals sitting around ordered tables, sipping cocktails and smoking fags. As for the competitors, well, they were as far removed from human reality as it’s possible to be: nothing more than parody’s of genuineness. Comical characters hiding behind false smiles and fake tan.

Ironically, after hours of painstaking preparation and personal grooming, each competitor had to pin a flimsy piece of numbered paper to their back. They ended up looking like prized beef at a cattle auction.

Flimsy piece of paper aside, the competition in Sober was in stark contrast to that surreal show.

As we made our way towards Plaza do Touran, in the heart of the village, a tuneful melody floated past on the night air. The renowned Sober youth orchestra was in full swing: an enthusiastic and talented group of musicians entertaining the small crowd.

Melanie and I spotted our friends and eight of us headed to Bar Marcelo for refreshments. Outside, the bar owner had provided free pancetta. The alluring aroma of pan fried bacon drifted through the crowd. Thick cut slices of fatty pancetta sizzled in an enormous frying pan. 
 
A large basket of crusty bread, hacked into palm sized chunks, sat on a table next to the pan. We each chose a favourable chunk and moved across to the frying pan. One by one we picked a tasty slice of sizzling pancetta. Armed with a tasty nibble and a cool drink, we wandered back to the square. 

The plaza is enclosed on three sides by a three step amphitheatre. A crowd of about 100 people, some sitting and others just standing around, watched 20 or so couples tripping the light fantastic. Actually, most of them were tripping over each other. 

During a pause in the music, competitors were handed a flimsy piece of numbered paper and the audience a score card: viewer voting at its purist. As expected the most proficient couple didn’t even feature in the top three, it wasn’t that kind of contest. The top three were local favourites,
chosen for their popularity rather than their dancing prowess.

To rousing applause and cheers of bravo, the mayor presented the winning couple with their prize: dinner for two at the local restaurant. 

A competition it might have been; but strictly not Come Dancing.

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Experience the dream –sample the sights, sounds and tastes of Galicia. For details about our luxury farmhouse rental visit http://www.getaway-galicia.com
 
Craig’s book, Journey To A Dream, is available exclusively from Amazon, follow this link for your national store. http://bit.ly/188lOj2

Visit Craig’s website at http://www.journeytoadream.co.uk 

Or join in the fun on Facebook http://facebook.com/craigbriggs.spain

Viticulture - n the science of grapes and grape-growing.

That clinical, cold-hearted definition doesn’t quite tell the whole story. For most viticulturists, the true meaning is one of love, devotion, hard work and comradeship. A passion for tending grapes and producing fine wine means far more than mere science and chemistry.  

As work in the vineyard draws to a close, the focus of my attention will soon switch to the bodega (wine cellar). Only one task now remains: deciding on a date for the vendimia (grape harvest).

In theory, choosing when to harvest the grapes is quite straightforward: the science is clear about that. There are three main elements to consider when determining ripeness.

    1. Sweetness or brix, 
    2. Acidity or pH
    3. The level of tartaric acid or TA. 
 
Depending on the variety, each grape has an optimum level for each element. 

For example, the optimum levels for a good red wine are; 
 
    Brix of 22 
    pH of 3.4
    TA in the range 0.6 to 0.8

What could be simpler?

Once a week, for the past four weeks, I have carefully analysed a sample batch of each grape variety and studiously recorded the results. Long, hot, sunny days have seen the sugar level and pH slowly rise, while at the same time the amount of tartaric acid has slowly dropped. 
 
Reaching the optimum levels for all three elements is very unlikely; striking a balanced compromise is part and parcel of the viticulturist’s art. In a mildly satisfying way, it seems fitting that science can only take us so far.

But there’s one more important factor in determining which day to pick. Reassuringly, the final decision remains in the hands of Mother Nature. 

‘It’s looking like this Thursday,’ I announce, after completing my regular Sunday tests, ‘I’ll just look at the weather forecast.’

A quick check on the internet reveals devastating news: Thursday, 80% chance of rain, and Friday through to the following Sunday, 100% chance of rain with the possibility of violent thunderstorms.

‘The forecast is dreadful. We’re going to have to start picking tomorrow.’

Organising the harvest is like planning a military operation. Behind every successful vendimia is a committed and hardworking team. 

When Hollywood looks for a group of action heroes it turns to ‘The Expendables’. On harvest day, I turn to my team of heroes, ‘The Indispensables’.

Armed with nothing more than a pair of razor sharp secateurs, his fearless band of brothers set about their task with energy and drive. Oblivious to the dangers, they snip away, stripping the vines of their treasured load. Once the objective is secured, they haul heavy crates of grapes up steep sided vineyards without a thought for their own personal safety. Hour after hour of backbreaking, skin-stripping, nail-breaking labours to rescue the precious fruits ahead of the gathering clouds.

After three days of blood, sweat, and terribly stained fingernails, victory is ours. 

With our objectives achieved, we hand control back to the science. From now on, chemistry will rule.

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