Spoilt by auntie Vito

After a long week in the Pyrenees, enjoying being in the open and away from civilization, we changed scenery completely and spent a couple of days in the city of Zaragoza, the biggest in the county of Aragon, North East of Spain, and only two hours south from the Pyrenees.

We stopped here to see my auntie Vito, my father’s sister and my godmother, and her husband, uncle Manolo. I last saw them in 2009. In addition, we were to meet with Eva, a very close friend from childhood who I hadn’t seen for fifteen years, but this reunion deserves its own post, which you will get later.

Our arrival in Zaragoza was a bit stressful. We approached the city with plenty of time to find the parking space we had chosen to spend the night, the funfair car park, a place that allowed motorhomes, located south of the city. However, finding this place was not as smooth as we expected.

With no maps and no internet connection to access Google, we tried to get to this place by using our sense of direction. At the end of the day, the main funfair in a big city must be in the outskirts, we were hoping it would be obviously signed.

We ended up in the Estacion de las Delicias, one of the main train stations, north of the city. We stopped to check the map on display. Typically, the funfair was at the other side of the city. Well, at least we knew where we were.

So we just needed to find the ring road that took us straight south, all cities have one, we wanted to keep our promise of never going through the centre of the city. However, Zaragoza didn’t seem to have a ring road that goes all the way around it. We were struggling to reach the south east directly, where the funfair was.

By chance, we found the municipal campsite, the ideal place to ask for directions of how to get there and grab a decent map. We had wasted an hour so far.

At last, we arrived at the funfair car park. It was quiet, the funfair had been closed for the season. We settled in hoping to have a quiet night. We needed it after our success of climbing the three highest peaks in the Pyrenees. I called my auntie to let her know we were okay. They were waiting for us to eat but they lived north, a long way with public transport at that time in the evening. The visit might have to be postponed for the next day.

We awoke to a lovely and warm morning. When would the promised bad weather start?

Gary had spotted the tram in Zaragoza, which he loves, so we will have to use this way of transport to get to my auntie’s. It was also quite convenient, as she lived next to a tram stop at the end of the line. We left Dora next to a tram stop at our end and made our way to my auntie’s. So exciting about catching up after such a long time.

Gary was double excited. He was also travelling on a tram.

We arrived at my auntie’s at midday. With plenty of time to catch up and have some tapas before lunch. I wondered what we would have. She cooks well and so does my uncle. They always prepare the things we like. In addition, my uncle likes to delight us with Spanish delicacies from the Aragon region, where he comes from.

A bigger surprise was waiting for us. My cousin Cristina and her husband Rafa were also there. That was going to be a noisy lunch, lots to catch up. I felt for Gary.

After lots of hugs and  kisses, we settled in and Manolo brought some wine to celebrate. He knows how to treat us.

The first bottle of wine he opened was a Chardonnay Viῆas del Vero, from the Bodegas (vineyards) Somontano, located in Barbastros, in the province of Huesca, north of Zaragoza. We were intrigued and pleased to try something local. This was the region we drove through to get here.

The wine was fresh, light, fruity and dry, just how we like it, although Cristina and Rafa didn’t agree. They preferred their white wine a bit sweeter but they drank it anyway. We accompanied this wine with queso manchego (cheese from La Mancha region) and serrano ham.

Before we realised, the wine had gone. Not surprisingly, we were five people drinking, auntie Vito prefers to go for water. Someone has to keep things under control .

Shame we went close to these vineyards the day before when we stopped in Huesca. We could have brought some wine for Manolo who seemed to like the wine from there.

Before auntie Victoria brought the starter, Manolo had opened the second bottle. This time a red wine, Arabarte, Rioja Crianza. It is not easy to keep away from Rioja wines in an Spanish meal.

Round, complex, full-bodied. Once again, uncle Manolo got it right.

Time for the starter. A soup made with potatoes and borrajas, a vegetable grown in Aragon. Very nice and perfect to open the appetite (‘para abrir el apetito’).

The whole family posing for a photo . It was then when I realised that the third bottle had been opened. Had we drunk two bottles already before the main course??

The get-together was getting out of hand. Uncle Manolo, quite chatty, started to talk to Gary about anything and everything, obviously in Spanish. Poor Gary did well pretending he understood. They both seemed to enjoy the chat though, so I left them to it as my translation services weren’t required, or so I thought .

Time for the main course; roast Turbot, it was massive. Gary and I had to share it.

The fish was fresh, meaty and very tasty.  Auntie didn’t need to use any fancy garnish to emphasize its flavour. She just roasted it in the oven with a bit of oil and lemon. A simple but sophisticated meal.

The fish wouldn’t fit on the plate. Auntie Victoria had to go and grab a bigger one.

We scoffed the lot.

Lunch ended up with a bit of fruit. “Good”, we thought. We couldn’t fit anything heavier in our stomachs.

‘Pocha’ is a Spanish cards game to which Gary, my brother, Nuria and I are so addicted but you need minimum four people. When I heard that Rafa and Cristina knew how to play, I got really excited. We never get the chance to play in the UK, only in Spain, so I thought it was our lucky day. Unfortunately, Rafa had to go to work in the afternoon,  , so selfish. Maybe next time, when they both came to the UK to visit us.

It was already 16.30. Gary and I needed to replace his sunglasses which he had lost at refugio Goriz. We also wanted new insoles for our walking boots, our feet suffered quite a bit in the Pyrenees. Luckily, a Decathlon store was nearby so we left and went for a stroll around the area to digest lunch. Gary found his glasses for €5.00, he was very pleased.

No matter how stuffed we were, I was looking forward to dinner. In Spain, the main meal of the day is lunchtime. Dinner is usually smaller and a lighter affair.

Cristina was going to make Empanadillas, small fried pastries which our grandmother used to make and unfortunately, I never learnt. As she knew I liked them so much, she offered to cook them that  night and to give me the recipe. So sweet.

Preparing empanadillas was as enjoyable as eating them. Everyone got involved.

They are very simple to make. The pastry is made by mixing flour, milk, oil and bicarbonate powder. The dough should resemble the texture of pizza dough. The filling, anything you like. Granny used to make them with tomato, tuna and boiled egg. Cristina added green olives to this mixture, she thought it would make it moister. It worked out very well.

Then you would need to roll out a thin layer of dough on a floured surface, put a bit of filling, fold the dough back and seal it with a fork. You would then fry them in oil. Yes, I know, not precisely the healthiest dish, but delicious anyway.

Here is me, having a go at my first empanadilla. This turned out to be too big and too stuffed, the filling was coming out from the sides. The second one, the opposite, quite small, with very little filling. I didn’t seem to find the right balance, I should work more on this.

I am very much looking forward to that. GDR.

Gary also tried. His was perfectly designed, round, with the sides carefully cut, very architectural. He definitely got it. He wouldn’t wear the pinny, though.

Step by step, we were filling up the tray. The dough would allow for at least twenty, with only five people to eat them all!

My cousin Cristina had to take over and finish them off. Good plan, otherwise, we would have been cooking until midnight. Manolo wouldn’t have been happy. He was desperate for empanadillas since 19.00. He loves them.

Again, another yummy meal, accompanied with good wine. We were all stuffed but satisfied. A nice post-dinner ‘tertulia’ (discussion) took us to 23.00 and Gary and I had to hurry up to Dora before the last tram.

We had planned to see my friend the next day, Tuesday, and would leave early Wednesday to La Rioja. However, auntie Vito invited us for another meal, we couldn’t resist. We promised to come back on Wednesday for lunch and we would then leave in the afternoon.

Wednesday worked out quite well indeed. Another laundry was due for us after a heavy week trekking in the Pyrenees. It just so happened that a new launderette had recently been opened where auntie lived. So we popped in to their flat for breakfast, did the laundry in the morning and we had finished by the time lunch was ready. Very efficient!

Another posh meal. This time, Manolo got involved. Bread made in the traditional way, baked in an oven with coals. The fresh bread was rubbed with fresh tomatoes until the juice had soaked into the loaf. This was the starter.

The tomatoes came from the allotment that he has in Sariῆena, a village at forty kilometres from Huesca, north Zaragoza. They are really tasty.

Followed by a tapa; chestnut mushrooms with garlic, parsley and serrano ham.

For the main course, roast lamb with potatoes. This is the closest we have to our roast dinner back in the UK and which we hadn’t had since we have been travelling. Gary felt at home. Lamb is also his favourite meat, so he was super-happy.

And after a hearty main course… dessert; three chocolates tart . This was Cristina’s contribution, who is an expert at baking. She should seriously be thinking of changing her career and becoming a pastry chef.

After our meal, we enjoyed another long post-lunch chat. Manolo told us about Libya where he worked for five years back in the 1980’s. I like listening to his stories. When I was a child, I remember him being the uncle who was always away. It was interesting finding out more about what his life was like, the good and the bad times he had. I felt like I got to know him a lot better.

We then realised, it was already 16.00. We would have been happy to stay for another day but we had to move on. It had been absolutely delightful spending time with them. I appreciate their company more and more as I get older.

Manolo asked us when we would go back to Zaragoza. “Sooner that we may think”, I replied. “Gary and I have discovered the beauty and the vastness of the Pyrenees. We have an unfinished task of climbing them all”.

When we were about to leave, lots of presents started to come. Auntie Vito gave us lots of vegetables from Manolo’s allotment: green peppers, tomatoes, aubergines, spinach and borrajas.

Manolo gave us a few bottles of wines, among them, Spanish sherry and Portuguese port.

Gary got queso de cabrales, Spanish blue cheese, a type he loves. Very crumbly.

Cristina gave us a piece of her chocolate cake.

And…the most awaited present of all. The Trenza of Almudevar. A sweet puff pastry made with flour, eggs, water, butter, walnuts, almonds, sultanas and rum. Auntie Vito always brings it for us when she comes to visit my parents in Talavera de la Reina. You can only get it in specific places in Huesca. Gary absolutely loves it. He had been looking for it since we arrived in Aragon.

We should have got more trenza ourselves. It only lasted two days!

Loaded with food for a week, we eventually left, sad but contented. We are very lucky to have family who spoil us so much.  I wish they came to visit us in the UK, so that we can spoil them too.

SM