They seem to follow me wherever I go. Perhaps it is sign from the heavens...
But, when I'm honest with myself, I realize that these Bombas de Jamon y Queso were simply a sign of "feh." Fatty, fried feh. One of several underwhelming results from a markedly mediocre tapas cooking class at the Institute of Culinary Education.
I had been so wowed at a recent Slow Food pig butchery class at the Institute that admittedly I had high expectations for this one-night Spanish cuisine session.
That'll teach me. Or in this case -- not teach me.
Instead of learning tricks of the tapas trade across the board, we were each individually assigned recipes and immediately put to work.
I can do that in my own kitchen. I don't need to pay for the privilege.
And, I was disappointed that I didn't even get to make some of the dishes I was most interested in, such as the Gazpacho Shots with Sweet Chile Serrano Foam...
Instead, I made a Spanish Tortilla, without use of the recipe's suggested French mandolin, as none were to be had. Between that and not enough oversight from the teacher, I ended up with a very pretty, but undercooked and tough rendition...
The one saving grace...
Sangria.
It didn't entirely distract from the greasy Mejillones Rellenos or bland Mini-Torchon de Bacalo con Salda de Chorizo y Datiles, but it was eminently tastier.
Think I best turn to my copy of "1080 Recipes" if I want to tackle tapas properly. And, if I have a pitcher of Sangria at my side as I cook, all the better!
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