This pebble was hand carved by the pebble man

The Playa Cañuelo is a drive of about 30 minutes from our cottages. Drive down past Velez-Malaga to the autovia. Head towards Nerja but pass it by, turning off the N340 at Maro. Pass that too, driving east  along the cliff edge of the coast road until you reach a little car park – hardly more than a scrape. Take the track down to the playa (beach). In the summer months mini buses transport people up and down, but we never go at that time of year.

Out of season this beach is a natural haven for the solitary soul, being part of a marine nature reserve and therefore entirely undeveloped. Since it was featured in the “Daily Telegraph” it has become almost famous for its crystal clear water, its teeming coastal and marine life and its nudists.

Judy and I were hunting for driftwood but there was little flotsam and even less jetsam due to the very atypical weather – no torrential winter rain, no heavy storms, nothing but a strange pseudo-spring climate cut by an icy breeze apparently pushing south  from Siberia.

There was no one but us on the beach and we passed a couple of  fresh water springs that someone had formed into little lakes and waterfalls. A few hundred metres along the deserted beach was laid out a towel with a dozen beautifully carved pebbles on it: a tortoise, a gecko, an erect penis in the shaker style, a Persian flowering “yoni”, some Eskimo style hieroglyphs, some buddhisty  icons, a dolphin and so on. No craft or sales person in sight.

We discover the pebble man on our way back. He is lying out of the wind under a canopy of those long cañas, whose great grandparents used to be sugar canes. He is lying on his back, his crotch pointing out to sea. His name is Gerard. He is French and has lived on the beach for about a year. The police know about him but leave him alone so long as he doesn’t light fires. This is a nature reserve he explains, though not everyone shows respect.

No fires is OK he says – you just put on more clothes. This is what Gerard had done today. He had modified his nudist principles and is sporting an old green t-shirt against the bitingly cold wind. This makes him respectable at least from the waist up. He tells us he did badly at Xmas. He had a big commission from a drug addict who failed to come up with the cash. Business is bad at this time of the year too because of the cold. “People walk quickly by” says Gerard. In the summer they can lay about and think about buying something. The down side to summertime is that they steal his stuff. “Why don’t you sit next to it?” Judy asks “Ahhh” he replies, waving his arms. “We could take some pieces home and show them off in our cottages” I suggest “Our guests like hand-made local stuff” “Ahhh” he waves his hands again.

I buy one of his pieces at a grossly inflated price.

He needs a meal.

He’s a nice guy. . . . .

Preparing the brasero with buring vine prunings

It's raining today so Antonio is preparing the brasero on his terrace

It was pretty cold yesterday. It had dropped to near 10 degrees and I was seriously considering putting on my long-sleeved shirt. Villagers, on the other hand, regard this season as deep winter. They go swamped in pullovers and fur. They are masters of the  traditional pseudo consumptive hacking cough, which crackles round the streets. I know it’s winter here because each morning my neighbour, Antonio Pino, places a bunch of dry vine prunings tied in a leathery tendril by his patio gate. Sometime during the afternoon he brings out his brasero – his brazier – and sets fire to the twigs. Only, he says, to drive off the smoke. He is practicing the very ancient art of Neolithic central heating. He assures me that it’s absolutely safe – safer than electricity (I can believe that!), clean because there’s no smoke, and free because the fuel is a by-product of grape production. Although wood is relatively scarce here, vine cuttings are plentiful and free.

The brasero is an ancient device, supposedly invented by Etruscans, though referenced in the Iliad in the form of princely engraved bronze or copper fire bowls. Antonio’s version, the poor man’s peasant fire bowl is made of plain iron and sometimes has legs. It is supposed to have been brought to Spain by the Romans.

Antonio explains how it works. First you must line bowl with “lima”. In my dictionary this means sand, which I suppose would do as well. In fact Antonio is referring to fine wood ash. He lines the bowl with a thick layer of this and lays the dry prunings on top. He then places the bowl in the road for “safety”, leaving just enough of a gap for a small car to squeeze between the fire and a concrete wall opposite if any of us want to leave the village. The ash, he tells me, insulates the bowl and stops it getting too hot, while directing the heat (upwards I suppose) and conserving it. The wood burns fiercely, driving off steam and smoke, and Antonio carefully heaps ash around it in a sort of miniature version of the charcoal burners’ technique.

The brasero burns for about an hour. “An hour to burn it down gives twelve hours heat” says Antonio. The brazier can be simply put into the middle of the sitting room without fireplace or chimney. There are no fumes or smells. However the traditional way is to use  a “mesa camilla”. This simply means “round table”, but a shelf underneath has a hole to take the brasero. The brasero is seated in this lower shelf and the family sit around the table which is covered with thick blankets. Their legs are warmed under the  table by the brasero. Most older couples in the villages regard this as normal “central heating”, often to the disgust of the younger members of their family who complain that you must be glued to the table in order to stay warm!

The mesa camilla, ready for the brasero, note the thick blankets, ready to cover cold knees!

photo by Daquella Manera

It has been sickening during the last week to listen to the Americans and British talking about the future of the Euro. The southern states of Europe have been subjected to veiled racist abuse, and European leaders admonished by politicians who lack the courage to do anything to reform their own back yards – their corrupted banking systems that created this mess in the first place.

Britain is playing a nasty little role in the present euro debacle. It was the British failure to regulate banks, many of which were bought up by the relatively excellent Spanish banking system, that introduced financial collapse into Europe.  British Conservatives have spent the last  fortnight boasting that because they are “trusted”, because their “austerity measures” inspire “confidence” they are able to borrow money at preferential rates.

What exactly does this mean? It means that Britain can borrow at 3% and charge Greece 7% for a loan. And Portugal. And Italy. And Spain. No wonder the British command international respect. This usury is cloaked and presented by the toadying BBC as “bail out”.

Britain flirted with the ERM, wasn’t man enough to stay in  and subsequently steered clear of the euro under Gordon “when the time is right” Brown. If there was any lack of leadership in Europe was to allow Britain to bully its way to a position where it could free trade with Europe while  retaining its alien currency. Free wheeling rights without responsibility.

How has Britain used this privilege? Over the last ten years it has quietly devalued sterling relative to the euro. When my wife and I bought our house in Spain six years ago, you could buy a euro for sixty-eight British pence. Today, six years later, a euro will cost you eighty-six pence, sometimes ninety pence.

What does this mean? Now that sterling has fallen by thirty per cent, British goods have effectively got 30% cheaper when sold to Europe and European goods – Greek and Spanish goods for example are 30% dearer to buy in Britain. Effectively Britain is undercutting its European competitors in spite of being part of a free trade community by using a slowly devaluing currency. Nobody on radio 4 – which is staffed by British patriots – mentions this fact when questioning euro sceptics, or even europhiles.

So what’s my solution to the euro crisis? Should Greece leave the euro? Should everyone except Germany and Holland leave it? On the contrary, Europeans should stand solid and together for the first time in their history.

I propose a devaluation of the euro at least 30% across the board. This would slam the trade door shut in the faces of the British, the Americans and the Japanese, whose goods would increase in price overnight by at least 30%. Britain might wish it were part of the euro, Barack “we lead from behind” Obama might complain, but this is a crisis – there is no room for sentiment. Everything they produce could be produced by the Germans Dutch and the industrialised north of the euro zone at no increase in price to euro customers. Having wiped out American and British competition, German and other industries would take an extra growth leap forward, creating employment possibilities and extra funds to support the weaker south. Within the Euro boundary, all prices will remain the same.

Brits as old as I am will remember Harold Wilson’s statement when he devalued the British pound during the 1960′s, that “The pound in your pocket” would not be affected. He was lying of course, but then he was the Prime Minister of a little country totally dependent on imports. Europe on the other hand is the one of the greatest, potentially the greatest economic community the world has ever known. It can handle itself on its own.

But what about the bankers? How will they get their money back? Well, they lent in euros so they’ll get euros back. And those euros will hold their value if traded within the euro block. If any banker tries to sell them, or trade outside the euro block, they will lose an awful lot of money.

This solution is the obvious first step out of the crisis. It is simple and just, which is why no one will even consider it.

The reflection

I went last week to see an exhibition of recent work by the artist Ann Westley who lives and works in Cutar, the village where we live. If you happen to be touring the Axarquia during the coming month, it will be well worth your time to drop into the gallery at the town hall, Velez-Malaga, where she is exhibiting her work.

The exhibition consists of watercolours, prints, illustrations and acrylics.

The acrylics each catch a moment in which the subject and the setting resonate with, and transform each other. For example in the picture “The girl above the rooftops”, her big boots hardly touch the tiles of the cottage roof as she stands suspended above the rooftop, naked and weightless, light as the air and of the air. “The Woman of the fountain”,  or “The woman of the source” is set in the still water of cavernous pink baths.  The woman’s limbs and the water are exactly the same tone and colour. Her swollen belly, the bird gazing at her from the tip of her finger and her  bright robes show her absolutely still, but pregnant with life.

The painting “The Canary woman” was perceptively translated by Google as “The woman in the Canary”, which I like.  In this picture we catch the amazed face of a heavily bodied woman as she outwardly sprouts wings and inwardly goes to pieces, presumably in song, against a canary yellow oblong set against sky.

Jessica in her shop

The picture that moved many locals was “Jessica in her Shop” (above). The shop closed a few weeks ago. Like the school and the bar it was a lynch pin of village life and is much missed. This picture is now all that remains of it. The shop is not, however, depicted as it was – gloomy, with provisions piled against the shelves and smelling faintly of mice. Instead it’s transformed into a glorious cornucopia, bursting with good things and stuffed with life. It is endowed with the energy of the woman who runs it and brought to life by her optimism. There are many small stories woven in the detail of the picture, it reminds me of a Stanley Spencer resurrection. This vigour, strength and confidence is typical of an exhibition that radiates positive energy and never slips into sentimentality.

Fuego

“Fuego” (above) is the painting that I like best of all. Three girls hold hands in a cornfield, their hair the colour of the corn. At the bottom is  revealed the gaping black void and a staircase only just attached to the world above. The central figure is not climbing up the steps, she rather  ”arises”, her ankles together as she floats weightlessly back into the world, guided by two handmaids, their bare feet firmly on the ground. This is Persephone released from Hell and from the arms of Hades. It is the moment when she returns to the world and Demeter her mother permits the harvest once more. So the field is blown by the wind into a raging inferno of corn, magically parted for the goddess in the way that the red sea parted for Moses. It is a very pagan picture. In the catalogue Westley, describing her process, talks of a little patch of yellowing weeds through which the neighbours have trod a track. The myth began to take shape as she worked upon this scene, visible from her kitchen window. It is the process of a true artist – a universal theme arising out of work upon an ordinary moment of everyday life. And the process is innocent. It allows a theme to arise rather than trying to force and control the subject matter. At the same time it does what an artist ought to do for her community – transforming everyday moments into universal themes.

I have posted the catalogue at the bottom of this log so you can appreciate the range and quality of the exhibition. Westley is less well-known than she should be because she has cloistered herself in our little village. At €300 – €500 for major pieces of work, the artist is selling herself at a price well worth investing in, even at this time of “crisis”.

Catalogo Ann Westley

Deep fried sardine fillets

If the great jewel in the crown of cheap English food is the Cornish mackerel, then its Spanish equivalent has got to be the sardine. The difference the English and the Spanish is that Spaniards don’t despise this, or any food just because its cheap. The sardine is “celebrated” – cooked and eaten everywhere from the posh dinner party to the beach shack barbecue.

Sardines, head on gut in, spitted and roasted on the seashore

The simplest way with sardine is to roll them in coarse salt, stick a wooden skewer through half a dozen and grill them over charcoal. This is how its done at Spanish fiestas and street parties. The fish is cooked whole – gut in head on. The cooked flesh is chewed off the bone and the spine and head discarded.

Beach shacks and Chiringuito bars that spring up along the beaches during the tourist season usually gut and head their fish – they’re for foreigners after all.

You get an old clinker built rowing boat and fill it with sand, threadle an industrial quantity of sardines onto a yard long wooden skewer, stick it in the sand and roast your sardines over a smouldering hunk of olive wood.

Or you can head, gut and fillet them and deep fry them til they’re crisp.

Buying Sardines

Sardines on a plate

Use the same common sense as you would when buying any fish.

Don’t buy on Monday because they don’t fish on Sunday so your fish is already two days old. Don’t eat fish in a restaurant on a  Tuesday by the way in case you get palmed off with Mondays leftovers. This is really old fish! Wednesday, Thursday and Friday especially- great. Saturday you may be getting the dog ends of the stock as they clear the  deck for Sunday and Monday. On the other hand, you may get some bargains.

Signs of fresh fish: Bright eyes, not sunken. Gills bright pink or red, not dark – and ask to see them. That’s what a Spanish housewife does! No smell. Go on – have a sniff! They should look slimy. And not flabby. Slightly stiff. Like these:

I bought forty of these for two euros. Forty. 

How to fillet and fry Sardines

Lets assume you’ve bought the best sardines, big and bright, the fishmonger mortified if you imply that they weren’t flapping on the slab an hour before you turned up.

Go home with your catch. wash your hands. Wash your sardines. You don’t need to scale them.

Get a sharp, small, non serrated knife. First behead your fish. Then draw the head away, taking the trace of gut with it

thus:

You can do this very quickly. Once you have beheaded and gutted all your fish, take each one in turn and massage the spine away from the flesh of the fish. You can do this by turning the fish spine up on a slab, and running your thumb along the spine. Or you can open the gut cavity and slide your thumb and forefinger along the spine from the inside of the fish. Either way it’s slightly messy, but takes no time at all.

When you have loosened the spine, lift it free from the butterflied fillet thus:

Good. All thus will seem messy and fiddly when you start but you soon  develop a technique. I did forty sardines in fifteen minutes.

Open the fish and massage the spine

Lift the spine gently from the flesh

Forty fillets. I did these in 15 minutes

The final stage is easy. Use a fish fryer, or if you don’t have one a wok with a good two inches of sunflower oil in it. Heat the oil until a little crust of bread sizzles as soon as it hits it.

Prepare some flour, seasoned with plenty of salt, a few screws of freshly milled black pepper and a good pinch of Provencal herbs. Spanish flour is milled to a fineness fit for purpose, so look for Harina Fritos y Rebozados, which is fish frying flour. Put it in a plastic supermarket bag. Drop all the fillets in and shake so that they are all lightly coated with the flour. Drop them into the oil about half a dozen at a time and don’t take them out til they are golden. Grey fillets taste the same but look horrible so no one wants to eat them. When done, drain them on kitchen paper. You can eat them hot or cold, with or without sweet or hot paprika sprinkled over. Plenty of Spanish fishmongers and supermarkets will  sell you these already filleted, but its less satisfying than doing it yourself!

Just as “cafe con leche” is superior to “cafe au lait”, so Jamon Serrano is superior to Parma ham, though by the price of the latter you wouldn’t think so. Serrano ham is also cheap Spanish food. In the sense that it is “best value” Spanish food.

Jamon Serrano (literally sierra meaning ‘mountain ham’) is dry cured ham. It is covered with salt for two weeks to draw off moisture and preserve the meat, then the leg is washed and dried for six months and then hung in sheds for at least another 6 months at cool, high altitudes (hence ‘mountain’ ham). As always, in hot countries you don’t need smoke when the heat of the sun is free!

Serrano ham curing while it sells

There are four aspects to a serrano ham’s quality:

The type of pig

The pig’s food

The cut (leg or shoulder)

The curing process

Beautiful, acorn stuffed Bellotas

These are the four categories of ham, starting with the highest:

Jamon Iberico de Bellota or Iberico de Montanera : Made with free-range acorn fed Black Iberian pigs (cerdo Iberico). Highest quality. Accounts for only about 5% of sales

Jamon Iberico de Recebo Acorn : The same pigs, part free range and part compound fed

Jamon Iberico : Same pigs, compound fed. This is known as Jamon de Pata Negra

Jamon Serrano, Jamon Reserva, Jamon Extra, Jamon Curado : Compound fed large white pigs

Serrano Ham has denomination de origin, like Manchego cheese and wine. Jamon de Huelva is the local denomination nearest to us, from northern Andalucia. Serrano Ham should be served at room temperature. It needs to be stored in a cool dry place, covered to preserve the aromas, and brought to room temperature prior to eating. It is best eaten in thin slices, but cheap Serrano can be diced and lightly fried in olive oil before being added to vegetables – baby broad beans for example.

For these and other delights, see us on www.vivasiesta.com

How coffee came to Spain

A brief history of Andalucian BRANDY DE JEREZ

The cultivation of grapes continued in Jerez and the practice of distillation is known to have been introduced in the 10th Century mainly for the production of cosmetics, essences and antiseptics. The word ‘Al-Kohl’ is an Arabic term for the fine powder used in cosmetics which was a bi-product of the distillation process. In ancient Spanish the reflexive verb ‘alcoholarse’ did not mean to drink copiously, but to paint one’s eyes.

As the popularity of the wines of Jerez (‘Sherry’) increased, distilled spirit was added to fortify them for export and eventually the local wine producers must have realised what a wonderful evolution took place when these wine distillates were left to mature in the oak casks previously used for ageing Sherry.

In the 19th Century, an important export market with the Netherlands developed selling raw grape spirit (65% alcohol) matured in old Sherry casks that became known as ‘Holandas’. Once at its destination, this was either diluted and sold as ‘brandewijn’ meaning ‘burnt wine’ (brandy) or mixed to make different liqueurs.

In 1835 González Byass was founded and in 1844 the first alembics (pot stills) were installed. In 1845 in what was one of the earliest references to the sale of Jerez brandy, a shipment was sent by González Byass to Ireland. The following year, the Soberano name was selected due to the close friendship of the González family with the Spanish sovereign (‘Soberano’ in Spanish). By the turn of the century, the principal export market for Soberano was the British Isles partly due to the successful business relationship with the Byass family who had been both agent and partner since 1855.

Now with the introduction of Soberano Solera Reserva 5 and the increasing number of English people who visit Spain for their holidays each year, sales are on the increase once more – up 30% in 2001.

How to read your Brandy Label

Brandy has a rating system to describe its quality and condition; these indicators can usually be found

near the brand name on the label.

A.C. - aged 2 years in wood

V.S. - “Very Special” or 3-Star, aged at least 3 years in wood

V.S.O.P. - “Very Superior Old Pale” or 5-Star, aged at least 5 years in wood

X.O. - “Extra Old”, Napoleon or Vieille Reserve, aged at least 6 years, Napoleon at least 4 years.

Vintage- Stored in the cask until the time it is bottled with the label showing the vintage date.

Hors D’age These are too old to determine the age.

Spending time at an alcohol recovery center is less likely when a person consistently drinks in moderation.

Eating in Andalusia, Spain

The menu del Dia

Lunch al fresco Spanish style

The Spanish menu del dia was invented during Franco’s dictatorship to provide working men with one substantial meal per day. Del Dias have a fixed price. The Axarquia, Andalucia has the reputation for the cheapest and best value del dias in Spain.

The fare is rarely written down or even chalked on a board, so you have to do the whole thing verbally with a waiter. While they rattle off the whole menu with a flourish, they,  like most Spaniards, are courteous and patient in repeating, waiting, explaining, even venturing into a little English. Many tourists find the bread, salad, three courses altogether too much, though you can always order a single plate, or even a plate and two forks, after all this is Spain not England, but your “poor” appetite may not find favour with your waiter.

The village bar

Spaniards, like the French, eat a plate of soup, followed by a plate of veg followed separately by a plate of meat or of veg. Northerners on the other hand – the English, the Americans, the Irish, the Germans, Scandis, and the Lowlanders prefer to squash their food all together on a fork and stuff it into their gaping gobs. For this reason Spaniards have conceived of an alien plate called a “combinado” where you get, for example, fish or meat, veg and chips all on the same plate. Lemon is not usually served with fish. It is however served with pork, especially “filete” – thin slices from the leg. Don’t forget to ask for “allioli” – a small dish of mayonnaise heavily spiked with garlic and indispensable for chips and perfectly deep fried floured fish.

Spaniards eat late. 2.30pm for lunch (turn up at 2pm on paella day to make sure you get some!) and 9.30pm for an evening meal. Evening meals are for weekends and fiestas. On an ordinary day a Spaniard eats heavily at lunch time, works it off and eats light in the evening. The evening meal is so late because Spaniards work so late. They start at 8am, work til 2.30 pm, siesta til 5.30pm and work until 8.30 – 9pm. A long and punishing day. Northerners should not be so patronising about the “siesta” culture

LUNCH AT BAR FLORIDA

This is the best lunchtime eating house in Velez Malaga. People come from miles around for the best value (7.50€ in 2011) lunch. There is a large choice of dishes and you get three courses, bread and a drink for your money. It has upwards of 50 covers, and bustling and friendly service but you must speak some Spanish or use a dictionary  because there is no written menu

Whats the best day to go? Any day, Tuesday for paella, Thursday is market day

Whats the best time to go? 2 pm until 3.30 weekdays for the ‘Menu del Dia’, any time for rolls and coffee. Open evenings and weekends but no Del Dia.

Where is it? Velez Malaga - At the Paseo with the giant walking rubber trees, where the buses stop.

What do you get?

1. Para beber (to drink) cerveza, agua con/sin gas, vino tinto/blanco

2. Primero (first course) one of the following:

i. Sopa – (all year round) sopa de Moriscos (seafood), Picadillo (chopped bacon and egg in a rich chicken stock)

ii. Entremezas (cold starter: serrano jamon, manchego cheese, prawns, potato salad)

iii. Ensalada mixta (mixed salad: tomato, lettuce, olive, sweetcorn, tuna)

iv. Callos: (In winter – Chick peas with saffron, blood sausage, pigs bits) Bezas is like Callos, Col uses cabbage

v. Paella (Rice with saffron, seafood and chicken)

vi. Spaghettis (slightly overcooked spaghetti in sauce)

vii Gazpacho or Ajoblanco (Summer: Cold typical soups served in half litre beer jugs)

3. Segundo (second course) one of the following:

i. Pescados = fish (‘frito’ = fried in batter or ‘a la plancha’ = cooked on hotplate with parsley and garlic) You can have a plate of

a. Calamares, calamararitos, pulpo, jibia (squid, octopus, cuttlefish)

b. Rosada, bacalao, merluza (dogfish, cod, hake white fish)

c. Sardinas, bocarones (Fresh Sardines, fresh anchovies oily fish)

ii. Carne (‘a la plancha’ or ‘con salsa’ = grilled or in sauce) You can have a plat of:

a. Chuleta de Cerdo con patatas y huevo (grilled pork chop, fried egg and chips)

b. Pollo (grilled chicken) a joint or “filete” – thinly sliced breast cooked on a hotplate in a persillage of parsley,                               garlic and olive oil

c. Carne con salsa (pork meat in tomato sauce)

d. Albondigas (meatballs in sauce)

4. Postres

i. Natilla ( custard with soggy digestive biscuit)

ii. Arroz (rice with cinnamon)

iii. Flan (caramel custard)

iv. Frutas (Fruit in season – melon, peach, orange)

v. Helados (ice cream cornet)

vi. Café – ‘solo’ or ‘con leche’ (black or with milk).

Menu del dia price (2011) seven euros (yes – three courses and a drink!)