I can't remember her name, but I do remember her tiny, gallery-style kitchen. It was a warm and cozy nook in the corner of a tiny apartment that was very obviously filled with love.
And with homesickness.
Much like everyone who lived in Alicante, the girl I befriended while spending my senior year of high school in Spain wasn't from Alicante. She had very recently moved there from Galicia and she very obviously missed everything about it. Alicante is much like Las Vegas in that it's a tourist town devoid of its own personality. It begs and borrows and steals the best from other cities, but it doesn't have anything that is its own.
Galicia does, though. Days and nights were spent learning about Galicia. My 18-year old teacher was all too happy to teach me all about her part of Spain. She spun tales about sunsets and scenery, festivals and fun, and food.
There was a lot of talk about food.
Along the way, the girl's mother joined in on one of those conversations about the rich cuisine of their home province. A little of this led to a little of that and before I knew it, I was eating Caldo Galego.
No lie ... that night I spent dining on Caldo Galego and chatting with friends who were also far from home was a highlight of the time I spent in Spain. The friends were great and the food was a perfect accompaniment. It was amazing.
I haven't been able to exactly recreate Caldo Galego just yet, mostly because I only recently figured out what "grelo" is in English (rapini, in case you were wondering). I haven't come across it at a grocery store, but when I do, expect some magic to happen. And it will happen.
In the meantime, I spent some weeks figuring out a reasonable way of impersonating Caldo Galego. I think I've got it down. Finally. It's not exactly what I remember, but it's really, really, really good.
Caldo Galego
1 15-oz can white beans (these are the closest thing I could find to what I had in Spain)
1 32-ounce box of vegetable broth (I used this kind)
1 small onion, chopped
1/2 cup chopped carrots
2 stalks celery, chopped
1 small turnips, chopped
2 small white potatoes, chopped
Half of a small head green cabbage, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon dried thyme
Salt and pepper to taste
1 teaspoon olive oil
1. Toss the beans and broth into the biggest pot you own. Heat them to a boil.
2. Reduce the heat to medium.
3. Throw all of the rest of the stuff in there except for the olive oil. You're going to drizzle that over top at the very end because it's what Spaniards do.
4. Allow to simmer until the vegetables are soft. It took mine about 25-30 minutes to be perfect and happy and all of that. Note: If it seems that you need more liquid, you can add water or more broth. I promise it won't hurt anything.
5. Drizzle the olive oil over top.
6. Serve with crusty bread. It's the right thing to do.