F Imperative cooking: Cadiz h ail
I CAN reveal what a splendid destination Cadiz makes for a weekend food outing without the slightest danger that hordes of Spectator readers will descend on it. It is massively fortified against invasion. First, the Spanish aeroplane company has help- fully made the journey as tedious as possible. It starts by taking you to Santiago to see the rain. There you get out with all your bits and pieces, have a ride in a bus, do some queuing, watch the rain some more, then do some more queuing, get hack in the same bus and eventually the same plane. Total journey time including check-in varied between five and over six hours, but that only gets you as far as Seville airport and you'll need another couple of hours on the bus or train from Seville. There. Not worth it for the weekend is it?
Cadiz's second and, in the case of Spectator readers, surest defence is Seville itself. It acts like the finest muslin, strain- ing off for itself anyone with the slightest pretensions to 'culture'. And if any further defence were needed, Cadiz has few out- standing restaurants for the fervent guid- ists. Apart from the odd — very odd person aftending car races at nearby Jerez only Imperative cooks get through. When you do, start the day with the two markets in the old town and give the fish at least an hour of inspection and quiet devotion. Both markets are small enough to see changes in what is sold day by day; clams, crabs, swordfish, tuna, John Dory, anchovies, endless different sizes and types of cephalopods, tiny soles, the inevitable hake, those huge Atlantic fish one can never remember the name of and most surprising, enormous qnantitites of roes four avenues of pure delight. Then a stroll a couple of miles along the front to the mariscos bars near a plaza oddly dedicated to an engineer. Mrs Anderson's objective? To see how many different sorts of crab she can eat. This last visit, she chalked up eight. Back to the port in time to catch the boat to Puerto de Santa Maria with its waterfront restaurants. No- thing grand but an opportunity to try some new dishes — percebes (goose barnacles), small pieces of very thick skate wings in tomato, paprika and garlic sauce, deep fried (mild) chillies with coarse salt and some interesting crumbly goat's cheeses. Back, a doze, then off for the evening's gastronomic promenade. Seven p.m. sharp, into one of the bars where a chap has a concession to sell seafood and has set up his stall in the bar. Crabs we have done but there are prawns of various sizes and of most interest are surely the tiniest shrimps, the size of Mrs Anderson's little finger nail. Then a few local sea snails, well, perhaps just one more of those spider crab claws (reputedly brought live in tanks from British waters) then off for a proper drink to the sherry bars. It is quite odd how one gets used to consuming large quantities of fino and manzanilla, but most notable, how good fino is with meals, especially those consisting largely of fish and shell- fish. Some of the best finos in the bars all from huge barrels — come not from Jerez but Chiclana. Also good with dinner (later) is a table wine, Castillo de San Diego made from the same palomino grape by one of the Sanlucar Manzanilla- makers, Barbadillo, and drunk young. While doing the fino rounds, there are huge juicy, garlic-laden olives and the occasional slice of tortilla, plate of chick peas with sausage or some more of the goats' cheese if one feels peckish.
Cadiz is not a good place for atheists. Part of the enjoyment in the evening shuffle is dropping in and out from bars and shops to churches and, at Christmas- tide when we were there, courtyards with ranks of cribs. But beware of the much vaunted fried-fish shops: it may be fried mullet or squid not rock salmon but they manage to make it just as grim.
Eventually, as the shops and churches start to close, it's time for dinner proper. Ignore the rare posher restaurants: cooks will find much more interesting the scruf- fier eating places where more different fish are displayed and where, if one makes an effort, one can go through three or four fish dishes in an evening. The price is certainly no barrier. Clams are often good. So are anchovies, marinaded small sharks, octopus, swordfish, roes and indeed what- ever is fresh that day. On the way to bed, stop off to sample a few Jerez brandies.
It's a cracking outing and you come home bubbling with good ideas for the kitchen. What's more important, I can assure you that it will remain good and unspoiled because, thanks to the defences, you won't be going.
Digby Anderson
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