Holiday in Majorca: Part Uno - Food glorious Spanish food

The beach that was on our doorstep in Santa Ponca, Majorca

Our adventures at the English seaside truly whet our appetite for a holiday with sun and sea (not the English sun and sea kind...not that there is anything wrong with that).  Frolicking under the greying skies of England and dipping our toes in cold (in truth, extremely cold water that would make a polar bear blush...no exaggeration) was our impetus for seeking out warmth, sunshine and clear azure waters of Majorca, Spain. 

My boys' holiday criteria was easily fulfilled: good swimming pool (tick); great clean, soft sand beaches with gently lapping waves (tick) and abundant sunshine (tick).  Admittedly, these requirements were also essential for me but being completely upfront uppermost on my list was fantastic, authentic, scrumptious food (big TICK).  I want to show and tell the beautiful island of Majorca but let me cut to the chase this first part (and perhaps the second part too)  will be fundamentally about the food we ate...I am salivating just recalling it all.

Crystal clear, warm waters of Es Camp de Mar

We arrived in Santa Ponca, Majorca, in the evening, so just in time for dinner.  But I am sad to inform you that our first meal was disappointing.  The main street was littered with predominantly English and Irish pubs and 'restaurants' and westernised Spanish cafes and restaurants.  We were determined after our initial dissatisfaction to uncover genuine Spanish food.  Our first day in Santa Ponca became a quest (my quest) for delectable Spanish cuisine...after spending the morning by the pool, of course (to placate my boys first).

The internet is a marvelous tool.  After conscientious searching of the internet (by my persevering hubby, I lost interest because I have limited patience for internet searching) uncovered a side street where the locals go for food (you know that if the place is frequented by locals then you know it must be good) and where our bellies were first jolted into Spanish food heaven. 

What can I say about what we ate that first afternoon that the pictures above cannot impart...delicious, fresh, scrumptious and delectable...hmmm (I know my mum's mouth is watering looking at these pictures).  The humongous prawns were perfectly seasoned and reminiscent of sea breeze freshness and the calamari was dredged in a fine layer of well seasoned batter and tasted light and fragrant.  With eyes bigger than my belly I wanted to order more but my sensible (alias for geeky and all too reasonable and prudent) hubby reminded me there was still dinner to come and room was required for lunchtime dessert (we were on holiday after all so dessert can be indulged in several times a day...it is the rule!).

Ahh...Ensaimada

Ensaimada...oh my deary me...a local pastry filled with cream (I shall try to stop salivating as I gaze longing at the picture, so as not to damage the computer keyboard).  I love anything that involves cream.  I add cream to almost every pudding and even request extra cream on the side in the event that the cream I have been given tragically runs out.   This Majorcan pastry was (is) therefore my dream pastry (dare I say it, and this a contentious statement, but for me it even tops a cream filled eclair).  The pastry is airy, light, flaky...soft in the middle but crunchy on the outside.  The consistency inside is akin to that of a croissant.  The texture on the outside is crispy.  The cream is fresh and slightly sweet.  The whole things just melted in my mouth.  I had to share my first ensaimada but I did not share the next one. 

After a shaky start to our (eating) holiday we were on our way to developing rather rotund bellies...

 

Mr. Oliver dropped by

He is Mr. Oliver to most people but he is Jamie to me and he did drop by my house this month.  And he will continue to drop by every month!!! 

Okay.  OKAY!!!  So, it is not the real Jamie Oliver and only a representative of Jamie...in magazine form... but I am still seeing Jamie Oliver every month (and before everyone else, as advertised).  I subscribed to the Jamie Oliver magazine, Jamie, and it arrived early as promised.  Jamie is my first foodie magazine subscription...and I am so excited.

In fact, I was really thrilled about subscribing for many reasons (which I also used to convince my other half to subscribe):

i) It is cheaper than purchasing from newstands every month;

ii) Jamie is at my place before he arrives at everyone elses (who do not subscribe);

iii) It is really, really exciting to know that something is coming in the mail every month that is not a bill or advertising material (but I have to be truthful here and admit that I do like reading and looking at advertising material otherwise known as 'junk mail').  I am waiting with bated breath for my next issue.

iv) Subscribing to Jamie on this occasion ensured some very cool free gifts...three cool tea towels (not dower or typical tea towel looking at all), a paperback book entitled Recipe Yearbook and a lovely hardback book titled Jamie does...Spain, Italy, Sweeden, Morocco,Greece and France. 

v) I can continue to amass more Jamie magazines.

It goes without saying that my mum is the best cook ever (in my opinion but most people who have tasted her food can definitely attest to her great food).  She has cooked for me for all of my life (still more years of cooking to go, Mum!) and it has always tasted fantastic.  And everything I know I have learnt from her and there is still more to learn.  But other cooks serve as marvelous inspiration too.  Jamie Oliver has not had the opportunity to cook for me...yet...but I like his style and his recipes.  Subscribing to Jamie Oliver magazine is testament to how much I like Jamie's recipes and food.

A day by an English seaside

After a hectic and demanding few days, we spent a day by the seaside.  An English seaside on an English summer's day.  I appreciate that all those cynics out there are tutting at the oxymoron "English summer" and "English seaside".  I myself was one of the many who did not really believe that summer ever truly embraced England and my belief still waivers at times, even after experiencing four English summers so far. 

       

As for the English seaside...let me just say that they do not resemble the white sand beaches of the Seychelles or Tahiti or even St. Kilda beach in Melbourne, Australia.  To date, I have been to a pebbly beach, a very, very pebbly beach, a sandy beach where the sandy shade was closer to brown and I've been to a beach where an unattractive amusement/fair ground was looming a short distance from the shore.  However, today, I was pleasantly surprised by a beach that was a pleasant combination of sand and pebbles and no showground in sight.

I was excited collecting all the beach glass scattered amongst the rock pools and sand.  My little (nearly three-year-old) boy was delighted to be jumping, splashing, dancing, from puddle to pool then back again.  He played on the beach as only children can, with innocent abandon and no self consciousness whatsoever, as evidenced when he decided to strip down to his underwear (leaving his soaked shorts stranded in a rock pool somewhere) in order to really experience the water.

Now, for my hubby.  He was enthralled from a more academic standpoint.  I and my wee boys basked in the seaside in the customary way, splashing, hunting for shells and 'treasures', sunbathing and squishing toes in the sand.  My other half spent a considerable time studying the pattern of the waves, examining the movement of the waves and applying physics' theorems to explain what us ordinary folks identify as beautiful examples of nature at work.  He even photographed a particularly intriguing wave pattern for prosperity (shown above).  I only have one thought for this behaviour...you can take the man from the geeky environment (i.e., the physics and applied mathematics department) but you can never truly take the geek out of the man!