BANGKOK, July 22 — This is a dish I first savoured in Barcelona many a year ago. This is a dish that almost broke Jamie Oliver’s Twitter feed down, with much flame and fury.
A couple of years ago, the Naked Chef had the misfortune of including chorizo in his paella recipe, apparently a travesty. Mockery and even death threats ensued. The Spanish take their paella very seriously.
Originating in Valencia, a port city in south-eastern Spain, paella is the Valencian word for the pan itself: the dish can’t be separated from its cooking vessel. Outside of Valencia, the Spanish call the round shallow pan paellera (“paella pan”).
Short-grain rice is used, mostly arroz bomba but the Valencians prefer arroz senia. And of course, there is a strict list of ingredients, which includes rabbit, chicken, duck, snails and seafood. Chorizo, alas for poor Jamie, is evidently not on the list.
As far as the Spanish are concerned, paella by any other recipe — or any other name — wouldn’t taste as good. It wouldn’t be right. Who knew I will rediscover paella years later — proper paella, if one insists (I’m not sure I do but then again, I’m neither Spanish nor Valencian) — in Bangkok of all places?
Located on the secluded end of Sukhumvit Soi 53, Arroz is owned by Spanish chef Victor Burgos whose definition of arroz (rice in Spanish) isn’t limited to only paella (ah, but more on that later). The restaurant is housed within a double-storey bungalow, its small garden offering al fresco seating. Inside, the orange tablecloths, stained glass windows, artisanal pottery and hand-painted murals evoke memories of sunny Valencia.
We begin with tapas, both hot and cold. First, a platter of jamón ibérico imported from Spain. This cured ham, made from black Iberian pigs fattened on acorns, is considered by many to be the best in the world. As every bite is nutty and very rich, we can’t help but agree.
Next: some briny boquerones en vinagre (fresh white anchovy fillets marinated in vinegar and olive oil, and seasoned with garlic); a chilled bowl of gazpacho (made from tomatoes laced with cherries) and topped with feta cheese; croquettes filled with queso de Cabrales, a strong Spanish blue cheese.
Padrón peppers, fried in oil till their skins are blistered, are actually quite mild and benefits greatly from the generous sprinkle of sea salt. These are also served with deep-fried calamari and allioli, an emulsion made of garlic and olive oil. Either way, these are so addictive.
Aromatic roasted garlic make the gambas al ajillo (garlic prawns) an umami bomb. The classic huevos rotos (Spanish broken eggs) is reinvented as a runny egg with pan-fried foie gras and potatoes: simultaneously rustic and decadent.
For something lighter, a salad of rocket, duck breast, fresh strawberries, gorgonzola and pine nuts hits the spot. Crisp, sharp and tart, it makes for a lovely palate cleanser of sorts — especially when accompanied with sweet sangria, a summer punch of chilled red wine and chopped fruits — before the main courses of arroz.
As per tradition, the paellas are cooked over an open flame, infusing the rice with a distinctive aroma, and we are invited to eat directly from the paellera. There’s the original, the Valencian paella (paella Valenciana), of course; savoury and hearty from a farmer’s recipe of chicken, snails and butter beans. Paprika adds a sweet smokiness.
The black paella (paella negra) is a dark and heady concoction of squid ink, octopus and clams. Perhaps the most well known version is the seafood paella (paella de marisco), a veritable ocean of flavours.
Whichever paella we choose — and there seems to be one for every occasion — the best part has to be the crunchy bits of toasted grains at the bottom of the paellera. This is how we know the paella has been properly cooked over an open fire: if a cook cheats by using an oven, the flame-crusted layer, which is called socarrat, will be missing.
Yet Spanish rice isn’t limited to just paella. Chef Burgos also dishes up some splendid arroz caldoso (literally “brothy rice”) which, unlike the paella, is cooked in a deep pan. If a paella is all about the crusty pleasures of the socarrat, then a good caldoso must surely live or die by how creamy it is.
Bolstered by fresh prawns, clams and mussels, the seafood brothy rice (arroz caldoso de mariscos) tastes of the deep blue sea. The arroz caldoso mar y muntanya (“sea and mountain”) features succulent scallops and ultra-tender pluma Iberica (“feathers” of Ibérico pork cut from the end of the loin).
Our favourite is the arroz caldoso negra or black creamy rice with monkfish cheek. A stark contrast of black and white, this dish is pure perfection: the plump rice grains soaking up the delicious broth, the unexpectedly subtle flavour of squid ink (unlike its bold colour), the exquisite monkfish, the bite from nuggets of octopus.
We end our sumptuous meal with freshly fried strips of crunchy churros, dipped in bittersweet chocolate or dulce de leche (caramelised sweetened milk), but truth be told, it’s basically gilding the lily at this point.
Perhaps it’s true that paella by any other name wouldn’t taste as good. Given how these bowls of caldoso are the very execution of comfort food — creamy, soul-warming, nourishing — we can’t help but be grateful that there is more to arroz than paella.
The Valencians are right to be so particular; paella is part of their culinary heritage. But when a dish hits the spot, whether it’s paella or caldoso or whatever it may be called, it’s something to celebrate rather than feud over.
As it turns out, Jamie Oliver was right. Spanish food writer Ana Vega “Biscayenne” would eventually vindicate the Naked Chef by investigating historical sources, proving that chorizo was part of the original paella Valenciana recipe after all.
Maybe the best rule of thumb ought to be simply “if it tastes good, it tastes good”, no?
Arroz
112 Sukhumvit Soi 53, Bangkok, Thailand
Open Mon-Fri 5:30pm-10pm; Sat-Sun 11:30am-2:30pm & 5:30pm-10pm
Tel: +66-2-258-7696
