Aceite, ajo, y sal

My host mother, Soledad, shows off a
monolithic jug of olive oil

Spaniards, it is said, are not afraid of salt. 

Nor would they appear to harbor any misgivings towards lavish quantities of olive oil.

Having traveled to South America—home to countries which long desperately to appear European (Argentina, cough cough!)—I thought I had an idea of Spanish cuisine, coming in.  Bland food, by and large, inevitably piled with French fries and a fried egg.  Lots of rice; an unending supply of potatoes in various forms.  Carbs reign supreme.  Breakfast, the same every day: bread with butter and jam.  Bananas and…more bananas.  Mayonnaise slathering everything it can get its gooey white fingers on, maybe a bit of avocado.  Perros calientes aplenty!

Spain was at once a disappointment and a pleasant surprise.  That is, the food is very similar to what I expected, to what I had seen in places like Perú, Argentina, Bolivia.  But what happened to turn me on my head was Spain’s amazing combination of an overall Spanish theme, that serves as a foundation to most if not all its cooking, paired with a delightful tendency to source locally. 

A homemade dish of rice,
peppers, mariscos,
olive oil, garlic, and salt

It is true, I weary a bit of every meal beginning with ajo—garlic—continuing on with aceite de oliva, coming to close with the inevitable fistful of salt.  But the regions of Spain have adapted this simple culinary trio to whatever it is they make best with finesse.  For Salamanca and the rest of Castile y León, this of course makes for a delicious salty, alioli-drenched bocadillo of Spain’s finest pork.  For others, it means sumptuous paella, high-end goat and sheep cheese, mariscos, cocidos…La lista sigue.

In short, Spain is a mix of the utterly expected and the carefully crafted.  I may personally prefer a greater variety (and quantity, moreover!) of spices and ingredients, but I cannot say that the Spanish do not put together what they have in masterful ways.