¡Tapas!
Tapas nowadays are highly varied, savory small dishes to nibble with alcoholic beverages, particularly wine. Spanish in origin, they remain most common in that country. But they’re also found here and in Latin America, where they are sometimes termed differently. My first tapas were called “Bocas” when, in my twenties, I did a several-month tropical medicine elective in Costa Rica. At a San José bar your beer showed up accompanied by a delectable small food item. The next beer brought a different accompanying treat. And so forth…
Atlanta had a few tapas bars when we lived there. A limited number of tapas are available at several Athens bars that offer other food as well. The big exclusively tapas bar fad in this country may have faded a bit. From commercial kitchen experience I know the difficulty of producing multiple, different skilled dishes daily.
Tapas in Spain date from simpler times, perhaps as early the 13th century. They started as a slice of bread or dry ham the bartender placed on your filled wineglass, maybe to keep the fruit flies out. “Tapa” simply means “lid.” Legend has it that King Alfonso X (“The Wise”) of Castile and León decreed that bars should serve something edible with wine, perhaps to keep his soldiers from getting drunk too fast. But the huge selection of small accompaniments for wine dates only from the 20th century.
Almost invariably, tapas in Spain include small plates of Marcona almonds, olives, thin-sliced dry ham, and sliced wedges of tangy cheese such as Manchego. More elaborate classics are garlic prawns (“Gambas al Ajillo”), spice-roasted potatoes (“Patatas Bravas”),“Tortilla Española” (Spanish potato frittata) and little meatballs (“Albóndigas”). Tiny, skewered pork tenderloin kebabs seasoned with smoked paprika, lemon juice and olive oil (“Pinchos Marunos”) come from the Basque region, duck braised with cherries from the south. Sardine and anchovy dishes appear along the Mediterranean coast. Beyond the standards it’s the chef’s imagination plus regional and seasonal ingredients that determine the dishes. In recent decades fashionable centers like Madrid and Barcelona have produced wildly creative tapas.
What wine would be typical with tapas? Initially it was a fairly dry sherry, like a Fino or Amontillado. Reds like Tempranillo (particularly Rioja) and Garnacha go with meat dishes, while whites like Albariño or Verdejo do well with seafood and vegetable tapas. But the choice is flexible. At American tapas bars I’ve also seen “Sangria,” the fruited, spiced Spanish wine punch that literally means “bloodletting.”
Here are two versions of an elegant, but easy, modern tapa. One or the other, along with a selection of large olives, roasted almonds, sliced cheese (like Manchego), and maybe sliced dry ham like Serano (or Prosciutto), plus your choice of wine (I’d choose a red like Rioja or other Tempranillo) will make a delightful tapas gathering. It can be a light evening meal in itself, or the substantial starter course for a memorable dinner.
“Tostada de Chocolate y Chorizo” [tohs-TA-da dey cho-co-LAH-tey ee cho-REE-zo] is simply dark chocolate melted onto a slice of Melba toast along with fried crumbled chorizo sausage. I use readily available chorizo from Mexican markets (like Los Compadres in Athens’ Normaltown) rather than try to find Spanish chorizo. The simpler meatless version of the dish is just “Tostada de Chocolate,” chocolate melted onto Melba toast and drizzled with extra virgin olive oil and dusted with sea salt.
Which chocolate for this? Not sweet or milk chocolate. Tapas are appetizers, accompaniments to wine, not dessert. Dark, slightly sweetened chocolate, up to as high as 70% cocoa, is about right to my taste.
Dark Chocolate Tapa, with or without Chorizo
The recipe is a method rather than precise measurements. The quantities depend on the number nibbling–from a stealthy, self-indulgent party of two to an entire crowd.
- Baguette (skinny type preferred) sliced 1/4-inch thick, 2-3 slices per person
- Bar of Ghirardelli, Lindt or other fancy dark chocolate, up to 70% cocoa
- Optional: up to 1/2-pound cooked chorizo sausage (casing removed and the meat fried and crumbled, use any leftover on a taco!)
- Extra virgin olive oil (if not using chorizo)
- Sea salt (if not using chorizo)
Heat toaster oven or regular oven to 300 degrees. Lay out bread slices on the rack or a baking sheet and toast them in oven to pale golden. Let cool.
Lay out toasted bread slices on cookie sheet. Place an approximately 1-inch square of chocolate on each slice. If using chorizo sausage, put a small spoonful of cooked chorizo on the chocolate. Put into oven and let it heat just until the chocolate melts.
Remove from oven. Press chocolate (and chorizo, if used) lightly with a spoon out toward the edges of the toast. If not using chorizo, drizzle chocolate lightly with olive oil and sprinkle lightly with sea salt.
Platter and serve warm.
¡Buen Provecho!
