Paella is actually the name of the cooking vessel used to prepare the dish (aka paellera), that flat, low-sided round frying pan with two handles in which it is cooked. Originally farmers’ fare, they (it’s a man’s job) would make a fire in the fields, usually with dried vine twigs, at lunchtime and lightly fry the rice in the flat pan with olive oil, garlic and parsley. Then they would add whatever they could gather in the wild – often mountain snails, eels from the rice fields, green or dried white beans, or rabbit on occasions, which are seasoned with saffron. Much later on, chicken was added, and then the marinera (with fish and seafood) and mixta (with seafood and meat) came along.
It is the ideal dish for large groups and for sharing among friends. In fact, the size of the paellera is calculated for the exact number of participants at the meal (termed as plazas) and it is placed at the center of a round table. As tradition had it, imaginary lines were marked from the edge of the paellera to the center, much like slicing pizza into wedges, defining the area where each guest may stick his spoon without trespassing on his neighbor’s territory. The paella was eaten directly from the pan, starting from the perimeter and working toward the center. Of course, nowadays it is served with a serving spoon.
There’s no one way of making paella. There are as many variations as there are chefs and households. The list of ingredients varies as well. What remains constant is the rice, which must be a medium grain as it absorbs flavor from the stock very well, and it stays relatively firm during cooking. When done, the rice should be dry and separate, not creamy like risotto. Other ingredients are the olive oil, sofrito (mixture of fresh tomatoes, onions, garlic, etc.), and saffron to be cooked in a paellera.
So, what separates the boys from the men? A truly good paella must have a thin layer of rice, no thicker than half an inch, with each grain evenly coated with the sofrito and glistening with the olive oil it was sautéed in. It must feature only a few other ingredients on top, not so much as to overpower the rice, and it must have been cooked and served directly in a paellera with the bottom layer of rice yielding a golden caramelized crust, or what we call tutóng. The reason for the flat pan is to maximize the amount of rice touching the bottom of the pan because that’s where the flavor lies.
One of the most common pitfalls of making paella is to overload the pan with too many ingredients, thereby suffocating the rice. When the rice in paella is cooked well, nothing else matters – not the chicken, not the seafood, not even the lobster. It is its own reason for being. For a truly great paella, the rice takes center stage (Sorry for South Beach dieters. Well, why not have it with unpolished red rice?), while all the other ingredients play a supporting role, providing flavor to the rice, but they must be added with restraint.
Rice belongs to the Mediterranean world of conviviality, sunshine, the sea, and the warmth of its people – words that could very well describe Filipinos. It is no wonder we adopted the paella like it was our very own.
Closer to home, there’s this story steeped in the rich Spanish tradition woven by an intricate concoction of food, life, experience, and love. And at the heart of it all is Señor Jesus Armas, a passionate chef, devoted owner and convivial friend to all who enter the Casa Armas in Malate, at the corner of Nakpil and Bocobo Sts.
It was in 1969 when Señor Armas first landed in the Philippines, on a furlough working as a cruise chef. Instantly, he found a home away from home, enamored with the warmth and sunny disposition of our people. Not long after that, he fell in love with a Filipina named Lynette and had three children with her.
His first restaurant venture was La Rioja, which opened along Pasay Road, Makati in 1970. Through trial and experimentation, he soulfully reinterpreted his own recipes, but keeping the same passion and sensual homage to the traditional foods of Spain. Then in 1995, he moved his operations to Malate and named it Casa Armas. And like all Spaniards, his love for a good fiesta brought about the expansion of the now famous Casa Armas menu to include a variety of timeless Spanish favorites.
Since then, Casa Armas has established itself as a landmark in Malate. Who could beat Sr. D. Jesus Armas with his offering of 45 kinds of savory tapas, representing all the regions of madre España? The joint has all the telltale signs of an authentic tapas bar/restaurant: The décor is typical of a traditional Spanish tavern – warm, cozy, unpretentious and welcoming as the don himself. It is frequented by his compatriots, who vouch for its authenticity and consistent quality, Spanish-speaking Filipinos, foreign ambassadors, politicians, and movie stars. Word about its famous paella valenciana and cochinillo (roast suckling pig) had reached one of the Philippines’ presidents and plates of Sr. Armas’ signature dish were frequently delivered to Malacañang Palace. Being from the wine-producing La Rioja region, the Señor naturally has a fine selection of Rioja red wines.
Casa Armas has branched out to the upscale The Podium in Ortigas Center, along Tomas Morato in Quezon City, along Jupiter St., at the Paseo Center in Salcedo Village, and the latest at Greenbelt 3, all in Makati City.
Quite recently, Mary Ann and I were invited to a media lunch at the Casa Armas Greenbelt 3 branch to sample Sr. Jesus’ latest creations of five new paella variants: de bacalao (a crowd pleaser, especially for non-meat eaters); de cangrejos, or crab (a novel way of serving rellenong alimango or stuffed crab); de langostinos, or prawns; de pollo con hierbas finas, or chicken with fine herbs; and parillada, or with grilled seafood and meat. All five met the high expectations of our group, with some fighting happily over the crispy tutóng at the bottom of each pan. Still and all, the different paellas were all cooked just right – the medium rice grain evenly coated with the sofrito and glistening with the olive oil, the toppings on each just right, so as not to overpower the rice, and the latter not creamy like risotto but rather fluffy and loose. All the telltale signs of a truly great paella.
Oh, by the way, before I forget, I must mention the other dish that has made the house of Armas quite famous: the cochinillo, a roasted two-week-old suckling pig that originated in the brick ovens of Castilla y Leon province of Spain. It was estupendo, to say the least.
Sr. Jesus maintains his simple Casa Armas formula: "The food you taste today is the same as the food you have tasted since the first day we opened. People hold a memory of something wonderful they have tasted, and make sure that when they return, their experience is just that good."
Or perhaps even better.