erk mis-recorded as 20,022. The boatload of bacalao arrived shortly before the Carlists laid siege to the city. The shopkeeper, at first bemused but soon delighted, became rich on the error, while Bilbao’s citizens saw out the siege on frugal rations of nutritious salt cod. To this day, spicy, garlicky bacalao al pil-pil and bacalao a la vizcaina, in a ric“…as ill luck would have it, it happened to be Friday and there was nothing to be had at the inn but some pieces of fish, which is called Abadexo in Castile, Bacallao in Andaluc?a, Curadillo in some places…” Cervantes: Don Quixote, 1605.

We here in Britain/US might think of it as salt cod, or stockfish, were we to think about it at all - which is unlikely. But as in so many other ways, Spain differs from us too on the question of salt cod. Bacalao (to give its most widely-used title) is elevated to legendary, near mythical status, a dish of iconic significance in festival and fiesta, a staple of such immense substance it once saved a city from siege. For the feeding of the multitude, the Forty Fishes aren’t even in it. With their holds stuffed with bacalao, Biscayan whalers crossed the North Atlantic to Newfoundland, and the Spanish conquistadors reached the New World. In the Spanish language, cortar el bacalao, to ‘cut the cod’, is to be the boss.

Concerning cod, written records are sketchy, but we can draw on at least a few sure facts. Certainly the first Carlist War of the 1830s is a matter of historic record, as is the siege of Bilbao. A footnote to the conflict describes how a shopkeeper of that city, before the outbreak of hostilities, ordered “some 20 or 22” bacalao from a trader. Of course, in Spanish this would have read “20 o 22”, an order which some sloppy clerk mis-recorded as 20,022. The boatload of bacalao arrived shortly before the Carlists laid siege to the city. The shopkeeper, at first bemused but soon delighted, became rich on the error, while Bilbao’s citizens saw out the siege on frugal rations of nutritious salt cod. To this day, spicy, garlicky bacalao al pil-pil and bacalao a la vizcaina, in a rich

out it at all - which is unlikely. But as in so many other ways, Spain differs from us too on the question of salt cod. Bacalao (to give its most widely-used title) is elevated to legendary, near mythical status, a dish of iconic significance in festival and fiesta, a staple of such immense substance it once saved a city from siege. For the feeding of the multitude, the Forty Fishes aren’t even in it. With their holds stuffed with bacalao, Biscayan whalers crossed the North Atlantic to Newfoundland, and the Spanish conquistadors reached the New World. In the Spanish language, cortar el bacalao, to ‘cut the cod’, is to be the boss.

Concerning cod, written records are sketchy, but we can draw on at least a few sure facts. Certainly the first Carlist War of the 1830s is a matter of historic record, as is the siege of Bilbao. A footnote to the conflict describes how a shopkeeper of that city, before the outbreak of hostilities, ordered “some 20 or 22” bacalao from a trader. Of course, in Spanish this would have read “20 o 22”, an order which some sloppy clerk mis-recorded as 20,022. The boatload of bacalao arrived shortly before the Carlists laid siege to the city. The shopkeeper, at first bemused but soon delighted, became rich on the error, while Bilbao’s citizens saw out the siege on frugal rations of nutritious salt cod. To this day, spicy, garlicky bacalao al pil-pil and bacalao a la vizcaina, in a ric

multitude, the Forty Fishes aren’t even in it. With their holds stuffed with bacalao, Biscayan whalers crossed the North Atlantic to Newfoundland, and the Spanish conquistadors reached the New World. In the Spanish language, cortar el bacalao, to ‘cut the cod’, is to be the boss.

Concerning cod, written records are sketchy, but we can draw on at least a few sure facts. Certainly the first Carlist War of the 1830s is a matter of historic record, as is the siege of Bilbao. A footnote to the conflict describes how a shopkeeper of that city, before the outbreak of hostilities, ordered “some 20 or 22” bacalao from a trader. Of course, in Spanish this would have read “20 o 22”, an order which some sloppy clerk mis-recorded as 20,022. The boatload of bacalao arrived shortly before the Carlists laid siege to the city. The shopkeeper, at first bemused but soon delighted, became rich on the error, while Bilbao’s citizens saw out the siege on frugal rations of nutritious salt cod. To this day, spicy, garlicky bacalao al pil-pil and bacalao a la vizcaina, in a ric

t a few sure facts. Certainly the first Carlist War of the 1830s is a matter of historic record, as is the siege of Bilbao. A footnote to the conflict describes how a shopkeeper of that city, before the outbreak of hostilities, ordered “some 20 or 22” bacalao from a trader. Of course, in Spanish this would have read “20 o 22”, an order which some sloppy clerk mis-recorded as 20,022. The boatload of bacalao arrived shortly before the Carlists laid siege to the city. The shopkeeper, at first bemused but soon delighted, became rich on the error, while Bilbao’s citizens saw out the siege on frugal rations of nutritious salt cod. To this day, spicy, garlicky bacalao al pil-pil and bacalao a la vizcaina, in a ricerk mis-recorded as 20,022. The boatload of bacalao arrived shortly before the Carlists laid siege to the city. The shopkeeper, at first bemused but soon delighted, became rich on the error, while Bilbao’s citizens saw out the siege on frugal rations of nutritious salt cod. To this day, spicy, garlicky bacalao al pil-pil and bacalao a la vizcaina, in a rich sauce of tomato and olives, are signature dishes of Basque cuisine, and no Bilbao bar would be without at least one type of bacalao-based, bite-size pintxo to offer the gourmet tippler.

The celebrity of bacalao in Spain seems an unlikely phenomenon on the face of it. The flensed, dried and crucified fillet looks anything but appetising. Old-vest off-white in colour and coated with a rough salty dandruff, its texture is of balsa wood and its aroma faintly urinal. Get your preparation wrong and your bacalao’s an assault on the senses. My first experience of bacalao was memorable, less for the eating than for the protracted spitting-out - of scales and bones - and the gulping of beer to purge the briny aftertaste. Don Qixote, too, was unlucky, for: “…the landlord brought him a piece of that salt fish, but ill-watered and as ill-dressed…” .

A single experience should not colour one’s outlook and in the company of Rafael Andr?s, president of the Madrid Restaurant and Caf? Association, I once enjoyed bacalao so fragrant, so succulent and delicious - its perfectly-cooked flesh yielding to the fork in moist flakes, the sauce rich and subtly spiced, complementing the cod to perfection - as to raise senses to gastronomic nirvana. And the secret, the alchemy, the magic by which malodorous slab is transmuted to mouth-watering delicacy is…. love.

Yes, cari?o, it seems, is all you need. That and plenty o