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A couple of readers of this blog (and I know readership of this blog – even in its early days – absolutely smashes into double figures) have asked about my take on Valencia’s greatest export (after a rarely-fit Vicente Rodriguez, of course) – paella.

I’ll start by saying it’s quite strange when cooking just how much one small ingredient can affect the entire taste and enjoyment of a certain dish – whether by inclusion or ommission. With that in mind, Heaven forfend anyone who cooks a paella and omits the saffron, even though you only need a tiny pinch, which is just as well, because it’s usually expensive stuff.

How authentically Valencian is this dish coming up? Like the fajitas, I don’t know, and again, I’m not fussed. It’s my ‘Large Al’s Cookbook’ anglicised take on it, and for me, it works pretty well.

For this version, you will need paella rice (calasparra or bomba) chicken thighs (eight), a large white onion, chorizo, pancetta (smoked bacon will do), a red pepper, a small variety of chopped fish, prawns and mussels, a can of tomatoes, peas, garlic, saffron, paprika (the spice of the Gods), chilli, thyme leaves, lemon juice, some dry white wine and a fair amount of hot chicken stock – plus salt & pepper. You can also have an optional extra of turmeric, if you fancy colouring the rice a little more.

The rice is important – long grain rice or basmati just won’t do. You can get paella rice in most supermarkets or delicatessens. The Sainsbury’s version – specifically sold as ‘Spanish paella rice’ – seems to be the cheapest (pro-rata) of all rices in the shop.

The pan is also important. The paella pan (paellera) is the perfect utensil for cooking this dish. A large frying pan will do, but – and I’m sure there’s some scientific reason that some Bunsen Burner-obsessed nerd would happily tell me about – the paella pan wins out for consistent results.

Because there are a fair amount of ingredients that go into a paella, this is one of the few times I chop and prepare everything before I turn the hob on – rather than the usual thing of chop everything madly once the onions are frying. I see TV chefs do this and feel that they’re unnecessarily creating a huge pile of washing up for someone. I suppose if that ‘someone’ isn’t them, why should they care…?

Over a high-ish heat, fry in some butter/oil the chicken thighs until browned all over. Remove from the pan, set aside and toss in the chopped pancetta/bacon, chopped chorizo and black pepper (I still prefer white pepper, actually) and cook for five minutes. Add the chopped onion and chopped red pepper, paprika and the optional chilli, cook for another couple of minutes. Add the smashed garlic and cook for another minute.

The running order is fairly important; you want certain ingredients to have a certain consistency – the pancetta to be crispy; the onions to be soft, not burned, the pepper to be firm, not crunchy and not plappy.

Stir well, and add the rice (500g in this instance) and thyme leaves (a small handful). Stir well again, making sure all the rice is coated with the various flavours and ingredients, and pour in about 150ml of white wine. You ought to get a big hiss from when the wine hits the pan. Stir again, for a minute of so and then add – bit by bit – the chicken stock. With these quantities, you’ll need about one and a half litres in total, possibly a touch more; don’t add the lot in one go, just enough to cover the rice, plus a little more.

The point is, this type of rice is very thirsty, and will absorb the liquid quickly and greedily. You will need to keep this dish quite wet while cooking.

Once the first gulp of stock has gone in, also add a can of tomatoes, and pinch of salt (if required) and your pinch of saffron. As stated earlier, it’s amazing how much you will miss what saffron brings to this dish if you don’t include it. Well, that’s my take, anyway. You can also add a half-teaspoon of turmeric, if you really want to.

It’s important you keep an eye on the rice as it can run dry fairly quickly. Keep it topped up with the stock.

Meanwhile – and this is where variety kicks in – in a separate pan, fry and seal your selection of fish – salmon, haddock, squid, prawns etc – squirting a generous dose of lemon juice over them in the process. This oughtn’t take too long, and once sealed, add the seafood to the cooking rice. At this point, you can also place the chicken into the paella pan, along with a dozen mussels and a generous helping of frozen peas.

Reduce the heat, and allow to simmer for 30-45 minutes, adding stock when necessary.

Paella – food that makes you smile. I wish I had a paellera this size…

One last thing – soccarat. Paellaistas (if that wasn’t a word before, it is now) will know of soccarat. Near the end of the cooking process, the rice on the bottom of the pan will start to burn and turn black and sticky. This is perfectly OK. The trick is to make sure only a small amount burns, and not too heavily. This gives the rice an authentic extra smoky hit. Get it right, and it adds an extra… something to the paella.

Variations on this version of the dish can include omitting the seafood, and adding more meat – the original version contained rabbit and/or duck as well as chicken. Or you can do a vegetarian version, adding more peppers and possibly courgettes.

Serve with or without a lemon wedges, with or without cold beer, with or without a chilled glass of white Rioja; but with friends.

So… how is your paella done?

Cheers, Al

PS – a friend of mine, Michelle, has suggested I suggest some music to cook by; something appropriate to the dish. So… considering one of the best paellas I ever had was on Daisy’s birthday a few years ago in a seafood restaurant on the romantic shoreline in Collioure, on the French/Spanish border, and therefore associate paella with being in a relaxed, mellow mood, I’m going to suggest ‘Duerme’ from a 2010 album called ‘El Turista’ by Josh Rouse. I love this track. Enjoy.