Five down, two hundred to go! I knew covering Andorra would be hard, I didn't expect it to involve diplomatic talks and an attempted grave robbery.
Famous as a tax haven and ski resort the principality is a tiny landlocked country high in the Pyrenees between France and Spain. With a population of some 71,800, it boasts the second highest life expectancy in the world (83 years!). Keen to discover if the secret lay in the diet I searched out my local Andorran takeaway.
Unsuprisingly Andorran food is non-existent in London, there was very little information about it on the web even. Just to make sure though I got on the line (unwittingly) to Sra. Maria Rosa Picart de Francis, the Ambassador of Andorra. Her Excellency was charming, slightly taken a back by my request, she spent a good twenty minutes or so describing the food of her childhood and suggesting recipes I could try.
Andorran cuisine I was told, has been shaped by centuries of isolation. With snow having blocked the mountain passes for several months it's very much centred around the local produce which could survive the harsh conditions and sustain the workers in the fields. Staples like potatoes, cabbage and beans, lamb from the hills and cured meats such as bacon and sausages.
'Trinxat' is a classic example and one of Andorra's best known dishes. It's very simple, (effectively an Andorran Colcannon/Bubble and Squeek) consisting of mashed potato and cabbage fried in the form of a cake with garlic and bacon. Perfect on a cold Pyrenean evening.
A more unusual proposition was the 'Carn a la llosa' Maria Rosa had described, a speciality of meat grilled on a hot slate. Traditionally this is done over a wood fire in the hearth, it's also quite common for Andorrans on a day out in the country to rack up a slab from the mountainside and start cooking.
As well as making use of an abundant local material, the technique is supposed to impart a unique 'stony?' flavour. Its fans claim the slate not only achieves the smokiness of direct grilling but has the added benefit of retaining fat on the cooking surface for basting.
I was forced to improvise a bit with my version and I'd like to apologise now to Andorrans worldwide for what may well be an abomination. My biggest dilemma was finding a suitable piece of slate. The Andorran's and Catalans use great big sturdy ones as they've got a tendency to split/explode when they come into contact with the fire. It was a Sunday so my options were limited, a trip down to Cornwall was tempting but I eventually settled on my nearest Wickes.
On my journey there I had a dark episode. Traversing a local cemetery I noticed a majestic rock garden. Siren like, it drew me towards it's jagged slabs. Amongst them lay the perfect piece of slate, a few feet long and at least two inches thick.
To my shame I wrestled with my conscience, I even picked it up. How would the relatives feel if they saw me scampering off with a chunk of their loving memory? On the other hand, I could be honouring 'Nan Nan' by grilling such exquisite lamb chops on her rock. I'd make sure to clean it and return it. The cold, disapproving look of a nearby cherub swung it for me and I returned home with two flooring tiles.
Lacking a fireplace I made a grill pit out of some breezeblocks that were lying around, covering them in foil for insulation, which wasn't strictly necessary. Andorrans would use wood which gives a better flavour, I used some charcoal I had.
Before putting slate to fire it's important to temper it first. Place your slab in a cold oven and turn it up to 200 celsius. When the oven reaches temperature leave it in there for ten minutes. Pull it out, brush with oil and it's ready for the heat. That's the theory.....in practice one of my slates was blown to smithereens by the flames sending shards in every direction. Luckily I hadn't introduced the lamb chops yet. The remaining slate stood firm and I nervously began grilling, flinching at every tiny crackle.
Having lost half of my cooking surface I decided to do a taste comparison between chops a la llosa and direct grilling. I have to admit, I wasn't entirely convinced. The meat on the slate cooked more slowly and didn't obtain the same delicious salt crust as the seared meat from the grill. It also lacked the smokiness I'd expected. You could taste the slate though, lending a subtle minerally flavour to the meat which was quite pleasant.
The chops were supposed to be served with a proper allioli, made with just garlic and oil. Olive oil is added drop by drop to garlic paste in a mortar and pestle, a painstaking process which for a small quantity can take up to an hour of constant mixing. After fifteen minutes and a dead arm I lost patience and ended up with a garlic infused oil.
As a novice my 'llosa' days aren't over. The technique's something I want to have another crack at with different meats and a bolder piece of slate. I'm sure my brand new, weedy Wickes floor tiles are no match for a grand old slab, hewn from a Pyrenean rock face and seasoned in a thousand fires.
Moltes gràcies to Maria Rosa for her advice.
Famous as a tax haven and ski resort the principality is a tiny landlocked country high in the Pyrenees between France and Spain. With a population of some 71,800, it boasts the second highest life expectancy in the world (83 years!). Keen to discover if the secret lay in the diet I searched out my local Andorran takeaway.
Unsuprisingly Andorran food is non-existent in London, there was very little information about it on the web even. Just to make sure though I got on the line (unwittingly) to Sra. Maria Rosa Picart de Francis, the Ambassador of Andorra. Her Excellency was charming, slightly taken a back by my request, she spent a good twenty minutes or so describing the food of her childhood and suggesting recipes I could try.
Andorran cuisine I was told, has been shaped by centuries of isolation. With snow having blocked the mountain passes for several months it's very much centred around the local produce which could survive the harsh conditions and sustain the workers in the fields. Staples like potatoes, cabbage and beans, lamb from the hills and cured meats such as bacon and sausages.
'Trinxat' is a classic example and one of Andorra's best known dishes. It's very simple, (effectively an Andorran Colcannon/Bubble and Squeek) consisting of mashed potato and cabbage fried in the form of a cake with garlic and bacon. Perfect on a cold Pyrenean evening.
A more unusual proposition was the 'Carn a la llosa' Maria Rosa had described, a speciality of meat grilled on a hot slate. Traditionally this is done over a wood fire in the hearth, it's also quite common for Andorrans on a day out in the country to rack up a slab from the mountainside and start cooking.
As well as making use of an abundant local material, the technique is supposed to impart a unique 'stony?' flavour. Its fans claim the slate not only achieves the smokiness of direct grilling but has the added benefit of retaining fat on the cooking surface for basting.
I was forced to improvise a bit with my version and I'd like to apologise now to Andorrans worldwide for what may well be an abomination. My biggest dilemma was finding a suitable piece of slate. The Andorran's and Catalans use great big sturdy ones as they've got a tendency to split/explode when they come into contact with the fire. It was a Sunday so my options were limited, a trip down to Cornwall was tempting but I eventually settled on my nearest Wickes.
On my journey there I had a dark episode. Traversing a local cemetery I noticed a majestic rock garden. Siren like, it drew me towards it's jagged slabs. Amongst them lay the perfect piece of slate, a few feet long and at least two inches thick.
To my shame I wrestled with my conscience, I even picked it up. How would the relatives feel if they saw me scampering off with a chunk of their loving memory? On the other hand, I could be honouring 'Nan Nan' by grilling such exquisite lamb chops on her rock. I'd make sure to clean it and return it. The cold, disapproving look of a nearby cherub swung it for me and I returned home with two flooring tiles.
Lacking a fireplace I made a grill pit out of some breezeblocks that were lying around, covering them in foil for insulation, which wasn't strictly necessary. Andorrans would use wood which gives a better flavour, I used some charcoal I had.
Before putting slate to fire it's important to temper it first. Place your slab in a cold oven and turn it up to 200 celsius. When the oven reaches temperature leave it in there for ten minutes. Pull it out, brush with oil and it's ready for the heat. That's the theory.....in practice one of my slates was blown to smithereens by the flames sending shards in every direction. Luckily I hadn't introduced the lamb chops yet. The remaining slate stood firm and I nervously began grilling, flinching at every tiny crackle.
Having lost half of my cooking surface I decided to do a taste comparison between chops a la llosa and direct grilling. I have to admit, I wasn't entirely convinced. The meat on the slate cooked more slowly and didn't obtain the same delicious salt crust as the seared meat from the grill. It also lacked the smokiness I'd expected. You could taste the slate though, lending a subtle minerally flavour to the meat which was quite pleasant.
The chops were supposed to be served with a proper allioli, made with just garlic and oil. Olive oil is added drop by drop to garlic paste in a mortar and pestle, a painstaking process which for a small quantity can take up to an hour of constant mixing. After fifteen minutes and a dead arm I lost patience and ended up with a garlic infused oil.
As a novice my 'llosa' days aren't over. The technique's something I want to have another crack at with different meats and a bolder piece of slate. I'm sure my brand new, weedy Wickes floor tiles are no match for a grand old slab, hewn from a Pyrenean rock face and seasoned in a thousand fires.
Moltes gràcies to Maria Rosa for her advice.