1.0Chef's Pencilhttps://www.chefspencil.comrich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="kqK3P8RafP"><a href="https://www.chefspencil.com/zarzuela/">Zarzuela de Mariscos (Spanish Seafood Stew)</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://www.chefspencil.com/zarzuela/embed/#?secret=kqK3P8RafP" width="600" height="338" title="“Zarzuela de Mariscos (Spanish Seafood Stew)” — Chef's Pencil" data-secret="kqK3P8RafP" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script type="text/javascript"> /* <![CDATA[ */ /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); /* ]]> */ </script> https://www.chefspencil.com/wp-content/uploads/zarzuela_f.jpg9601055The first time I had Zarzuela was a few years back. A gang of us went to a Spanish restaurant for a going away dinner for a few of the group that were off to Europe indefinitely. It was a brilliant night with beautiful food, great friends, kitschy flamenco music, lots of sangria and many embarrassing stories from the past. The details are a little sketchy but a couple of things I remember particularly well are; the Restaurant was about the size of a small sailboat with less than 7 tables in all. Despite this it was a very comfortable place, the seating was on wooden benches that resembled church pews and scattered over them were randomly coloured embroidered cushions. The walls were a very warm wood and spread over them were many interesting, often brightly coloured paintings in no particular theme. It all made the place incredibly social and comfortable despite its size. I also remember the food, now usually with that much frivolity and sangria I would be forgiven, even as a Chef, for not remembering the food but I remember every detail about the food that night. We ordered various shared Tapas and were thoroughly impressed with each dish. The Champinones al Ajillo (garlic mushrooms) were the texture of expensive meat, the Mejillomes Rellenos (stuffed mussels) looked and smelled as though they had crept from the net to the plate, they were that fresh. The Albondigas (Spanish veal meatballs) were melt in your mouth tender, and the Pollo al Ajillo (garlic chicken) and Tortilla Espanola were both deliciously rustic. But the dish I was most excited about was one we didn’t even order. As we sat eating and chatting, Miguel who had been sitting at a table for one next to us had his main course arrive. Miguel was actually from Spain and was doing some traveling and had come to get some food to remind him of home. He said “Dees iz de only place seence I left Spain dat do Tharthuela proper.” It was a seriously impressive looking dish that sat before him, seafood teeming from the steaming broth as though it were a fisherman’s net. As impressive as it looked though it was the smell that got me to take notice. It was a very different type of smell than you’d expect from most tomato based seafood dishes. As I sat asking Miguel all sorts of questions about the dish he shouted out to the kitchen, “Juan you have any Tharthuela sauce left for dees fine gentleman?” I embarrassingly mumbled “No no that’s alright.” This sort of comfort, of customers shouting casually at the Chef was part of the magic about the place. Juan happily shouted back “It’s already in the pan, I serve it for you in a couple a minutes!” I left Miguel in peace to finish his dinner and continued chatting with my friends; my girlfriend said jokingly “I can’t take you out anywhere without you disturbing someone and talking food can I!” She was probably right. Obviously the chef would not divulge his recipe as any good Restaurant’s business is built on such examples of food. I however was working in an Italian Restaurant at the time and worked with a very proud Spaniard; Susannah from Barthelona was the head waitress and was always claiming how all things Spanish were better than all things Italian. I asked her to get her mothers Zarzuela recipe and she was more than happy as she could then show our Italian boss that it was better than his traditional Marinara. I find the Zarzuela to be an absolutely magnificent dish, as is the Marinara but would not wager on one over the other as they are far too different. I hope that you enjoy discovering this little Spanish secret as much as I have. Note: Keep in mind that this is a sort of a stew so don’t get too caught up on the actual seafood ingredients, use what you can source and is fresh.