Early on Sunday we decamped from Logroño for the two-hour drive to San Sebastián, in the heart of Basque Country. A local road race blocked all the streets leading to our hotel, so our guide met us at a different hotel while Ramón cooled his heels waiting for the race to be over. We said our reluctant farewells to our fantastic guide.
Sandra took us on a walking tour of the hilly city, and we took in the gorgeous views of the angry ocean hurling its waves against the seawall.
Strolling into the old city, we had a lunch of — guess what? Tapas! I don’t think I can ever get tired of eating this way. Small portions, interesting flavors and treatments, creatively presented. Once you have a late lunch of 4-5 tapas, or pintxos, you don’t need food for the rest of the day.
We had one of our favorites, pickled green bean, olive and anchovy, then pulpo (octopus) with smoked paprika, scallops in a creamy sauce without cream, jamón Ibérico, and a large mushroom in a sauce enriched with raw egg.
To top it off, Basque cheesecake!
Tomorrow: cooking class!
We began our morning at Valpiedra, which I described in yesterday’s post, as wine had blurred my memory. Today was a special pairing lunch at Bodegas Baigorri.
This unique winery occupies seven levels, with a glass-enclosed entry level offering sweeping views of the vineyards.
There were three starters: bluefin tuna tartare, roasted aubergine with sheep’s cheese cream, and creamy rice with roasted chestnuts and partridge, accompanied by rosé, a white, and a garnacha.
The first course was roasted monkfish, followed by slow-cooked beef rib, and two reds, one an 85% Graciano and the other 100% Tempranillo. Dessert was chocolate crémeux. One highlight was wine butter to spread on their delicious bread. Have to make that at home!
After returning to our hotel and a rest, we met Ramón for a tour of his favorite tapas bars in Logroño. What a mob scene! The streets were jammed with merrymakers, and we had to elbow our way into each stop.
Foie gras is a very popular tapa here, and the portions are generous (above). One bar only serves mushrooms grilled on a flattop with garlic, and since it’s mushroom season, we had to have them. So delicious.
At another place we had raw mushrooms, very thinly sliced, with honey mustard and grated manchego. Another one to try at home.
We learned a lot from Ramón today, as we ventured to LaGuardia, a 1000 year-old town in the heart of Rioja. We climbed the steep walkway along the city walls, stopping for panoramic vistas of the countryside.
An enterprising local artist carved these sculptures into the trunks of trees that had been chopped down.
Meandering through the streets, we were met with charming shops and this bakery with its gorgeous bread loaves.
In the 1500s, during one of its many wars with other regions, the local citizenry excavated beneath their houses as refuges against invaders. Today, many people use these “caves” to store wine. Because Ramón knows everyone, he was able to get us into one of them below one of the restaurants. Subtle lighting and repurposed wine barrels create a lovely environment for fine dining and tasting.
He explained that in this region only four grape varietals are allowed to be cultivated: Tempranillo, Garnacha, Graciano and Mazuelo (aka Carignon). There are 600 wineries in Rioja, producing an astonishing 450 million bottles annually, of which they export 50-60%.
Reluctantly leaving LaGuardia, Ramón took a detour to the Marques de Riscal Winery (voted best in the world in 2025) for a coffee and one of his favorite tortillas. The tortilla was sublime, with velvety potatoes and eggs cooked just right, and roasted pepper on the side to make it spicy. We are now on a quest for the perfect tortilla!
Late morning found us at Finca Valpiedra for a tasting and drive through the vineyards. Their unique terroir is very rocky, due to the influence of the Río Ebro, which borders the property.
Next on the agenda was a visit to a tiny town of 200 souls to visit Hector and his olive farm. Unlike many olive oil producers, Hector employs all natural organic techniques, without pesticides.
He explained that many oils labeled extra virgin are not, but are contaminated with lesser oils. After he demonstrated, we tasted his extra virgin oils made from Arroniz olives, which are not good for eating. He served delicious little pintxos: one was a slice of orange drizzled with honey and oil and sprinkled with cinnamon; the other toasted raisin bread drizzled with oil and topped with chocolate sprinkles. They were paired with local white Rioja and Tempranillo.
Loaded with our oil purchases, we returned to Logroño for lunch in a special local restaurant. Our three-hour, multi-course lunch left us both in a food coma for the rest of the day.
In the seven months since I last posted a travel adventure (Cuba), my life totally changed. As regular followers and friends know, I sold my house and moved in with my daughter and her family, which overall has been great. But I’ve been anxious to get back on the road, so y dear friend Sharon and I planned a little trip to Spain for cooking, eating and wine tasting.
Yesterday we flew into Bilbao and were met by our guide and organizer for the next eight days, Ramón. We immediately set off for the lovely city of Logroño, widely considered the capital of this region, Rioja. On the way we passed vineyard after vineyard. After a refreshing siesta, the two of us set off to explore the old city, with its streets lined with over 200 tapas bars. Though it was early (most establishments don’t open till 8:30), we were able to find a place to enjoy a glass of Rioja and a ham and cheese tortilla. From there we moved on to a place aptly called Ummmm, where we had a better glass of wine and far superior tapas (called pinchos,or pintxos, in this region).
We enjoyed two bocadillos, one tuna and the other pulled pork, and delectable morsels of caramelized fig atop a disk of foie gras. The pinchos on display were so tempting, it was hard to choose. After a stroll through the old city, we were ready to call it a night.
While Labor Day marks the unofficial end of summer, September in Connecticut can still be lovely, with sparkling clear days and cool nights. We had such a one yesterday, so K and I took the kiddos on a hike up Talcott Mountain. There are wonderful scenic overlooks along the way, and the path runs along the ridgeline after about a mile of uphill trekking.
Typically, the children like to make the grownups nervous by inching toward the edge of sheer drop-offs or scrambling up over large granite boulders.
The reward for the 1.4 mile climb is the Heublein Tower, standing 165 feet tall at the crest of the mountain and overlooking the scenic, twisty Farmington River.
Gilbert Heublein was a German immigrant who came to the United States with his family at the age of seven. Years later, when he and his fiancée, Alice, hiked to the top of Talcott Mountain, he pledged to build her a castle there. After they married, they settled into a mansion on Prospect Avenue in Hartford. The first phase of the tower was completed in 1914, and the structure was essentially finished by 1929. It featured six levels of sleeping quarters and the first residential elevator in Connecticut. The Heubleins summered there, and year-round caretakers lived onsite. A ballroom on the top floor was the scene of elegant parties for those Hartford elite lucky enough to receive an invitation.
Gilbert’s wealth derived from a thriving liquor business, which nearly broke him during Prohibition. His fortune was saved, however, by his acquisition of the A1 Sauce brand, which kept them afloat till 1933, when Prohibition was repealed.
After Gilbert’s death in 1937, the tower stood empty for about seven years, suffering the ravages of weather, neglect, and vandals. His grandson sold the tower to the Hartford Times newspaper, which saved it and held star-studded events there for twenty years; notable guests included Dwight Eisenhower, Frank Lloyd Wright, and Ronald Reagan.
In the early 60s, the Times sold the property to real estate developers who had a plan to create a restaurant surrounded by apartments and houses along the ridge. Local residents were up in arms over this scheme and established the “Save Talcott Mountain” organization to block development and preserve the site. Eventually, the State of Connecticut purchased the property, eventually renovating it and operating it as a destination for day-trippers. It was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1983.
We finally made an expedition to Rhode Island to find the five trolls secreted in various towns. The day was drizzly, and we had to abandon the search for Young Boulder, as the signage was virtually non-existent. But we saw Erik Rock…
Greta Granite, at the end of a narrow and muddy trail, with her glamorous shell necklace…
Iver Mudslide…
And Mrs. Skipper, perched with her canoe on the rocks at Kettle Point…
A fun day before school starts this week!
I can’t seem to bake fast enough to keep up with the family’s appetite for sourdough, and this weekend’s bake was no exception. Three cheeses — Gruyère, cheddar and Parmesan — make for a soft and delectable treat. We enjoyed some warm with the pork cutlets my grandson and I made for dinner last night, and there were raves all around. It also makes a great tuna melt, as well as toast.
I’m away for a couple of days housesitting, and I suspect that when I return on Wednesday the second loaf will have vanished. Colin suggested I add crumbled bacon next time!
Over the past few months I’ve collected a host of recipes with different inclusions, like sun-dried tomatoes, olives, cheese, butter, herbs fresh and dried, spices, caramelized onion, chocolate, and dried fruits. It has also been fun to experiment with different kinds of flour: rye, spelt, Einkhorn, multi-grain blends like King Arthur Super 10, a combo of ten different grains that lends a nutty flavor, and Six-Grain Blend, another interesting mélange.
I particularly like the Simple Spelt loaf that I tarted up with flax and quinoa seeds and the Parmesan and Black Pepper loaf:
Deli Rye is also a reliable favorite, especially since I started adding fennel seeds and ground cardamom along with the caraway seeds.
I’m a sucker for cheese, so this Three Cheese number with Parmesan, Gruyère and cheddar hits all the right notes, and the aroma while it’s baking is divine.
An Everything Bagel bread was simply coated in everything seasoning before baking. But I recently tried a real bagel loaf, which was boiled for one minute, flipped and boiled for another minute after shaping — a scary process, for sure, but the loaf was toothsome.
Cinnamon and sugar swirl bread is on my radar, but my sources warn that cinnamon can mess with fermentation. I think I’m confident enough by now to try it, though. Surprisingly, whole wheat is also a challenge. I usually put about 50 grams in a single (500 gram) loaf, and have made some with higher ratios. It absorbs water differently than bread flour, doesn’t rise as high and tends to be sticky in larger ratios, but I’m anxious to make a 100% whole wheat version.
Hydration — the proportion of water to flour — is another component of this chemistry lesson. Doughs at 70% hydration or lower are easier to handle than high-hydration loaves, but the latter, if proofed properly, can have a beautiful lacy crumb. As a practical matter, however, that crumb doesn’t hold the butter and other goodies that one slathers on fresh bread. Those are better as art photos on Instagram.
Next up: a new environment.
Science was never my best subject, but to be honest I’m enjoying learning the science of sourdough. Plus I get to eat my experiments!
In my last post I promised to report on my cold bulk fermentation experiment, which I did in the dead of winter (February). Instead of feeding my starter before going to bed, I fed it at 9:45 in the morning, at a ratio of 1:2:2 (30 g starter, 60 g water, 30 g bread flour). It was ready to mix at 6 p.m., but I knew I wouldn’t have time to complete the bulk fermentation before bedtime. I mixed the dough using 90° spring water, and did three stretch and folds over the next 90 minutes, then put the proofing vessel into the oven with the light on, with a cup of water alongside, for two hours. The dough temp at 10:30 p.m. was 78°. It went into the fridge, covered, and I went to bed.
At 8:30 the next morning I took it out of the fridge and recorded a temperature of 44°, which was lower than I expected; but it had risen about 25%. I popped it into the oven on the proof setting with the light on and boiling water alongside. By noon the dough temp was up to 73 and it had doubled in size, with good bubbles throughout and on the top and the jiggly character I was hoping for. After pre-shaping I let it rest for 30 minutes, then shaped it, put it in a banneton and transferred it back to the fridge, where it stayed for another 18 hours or so. The next day I baked as usual, and was thrilled with the result:
a nice ear, crunchy crust, pillowy soft crumb.
All in, the bulk fermentation took 16 hours, vs. the 7-8 it typically required. But I learned that I could manage the process to fit my schedule when I don’t have the time to push straight through. I may have been able to cut the second fermentation a bit shorter, because, based on the dough temperature, it only needed to rise about 70%. But it was a good loaf and a valuable lesson.
Last fall I decided to try my hand at baking sourdough bread, since I might have been among the 1% who didn’t take the plunge during COVID. The first step was to make a starter from scratch, which was supposed to take seven days. After three weeks of minimal activity, I emailed the blogger who had posted the recipe and method to find out why it wouldn’t rise. After a bit of back and forth, she suggested that my water might be the culprit. I was using tap water from my well, which had been treated by a reverse-osmosis purifying system that takes out the acid and iron, along with the beneficial chemicals needed to make yeast. She also suggested that there was no shame in buying a starter, so I ordered one from King Arthur Baking and began feeding it, using Poland Spring water. Within a few days the starter was bubbling and rising happily, and a couple of weeks later I was ready to bake.
My first loaf was surprisingly successful, though the scoring was lame and the ear was misshapen.
In the meantime I found a thread on Reddit and began reading about the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat that is the sourdough journey, and uncovered some great resources. What a rabbit-hole that has been! Armed with enough knowledge to be dangerous, I decided to make loaves as Christmas gifts.
My maiden effort was Chocolate Sourdough from a great baker named Ash Turner, who lives in coastal Nova Scotia. Her loaves were beautifully scored…mine, not so much. I doubled her recipe but must have gotten distracted while I was mixing the dough and got the proportions wrong; the top two images below are my near fails (the one on the right I call Running Yeti). So I whipped up another batch, and the still ugly ones below, with chocolate chips, were the result. These loaves were not sweet (they weren’t supposed to be) and tasted best with cream cheese or as French toast. The crowning glory was bread pudding on New Year’s morning, drizzled with leftover chocolate fondue from the night before. Talk about gilding the lily!
Undeterred, I tried again, this time with a better outcome, and experimented with stencilling.
Next up was Deli-Style Rye, which was my first big success. The recipe developer is a guy named Grant from Arizona, whose recipes turned out to be simple, straightforward, and reliable.
The Sun-Dried Tomato and Goat Cheese Artisan Loaf made a good Christmas gift, and I’ve since enjoyed it made with feta instead of goat. When I ran across goat cheese with figs, I was inspired, and will make a loaf with that and more dried figs.
Through the winter I tried a number of variations, including jalapeno-cheddar, caramelized onion and rosemary, croissant, olive-parmesan, spelt, and a lovely turmeric and ginger that looked like sunshine on my counter.
One great source of bread recipes, not surprisingly, is King Arthur Baking, so I was excited to try their purportedly easy Pain de Campagne, or Country Bread. It was flat as a pancake, but made good croutons for the Thanksgiving dressing!
When I studied the recipe, I realized it called for only 28 grams of starter for 1000 grams of flour (a typical double recipe like this one would normally use 200 grams of starter, or 20% of the amount of flour). The starter would need to be monstrously strong to lift that much flour! So I tried again with 100 grams of starter and 500 grams of flour, and voilà! A buxom beauty she was!
The hardest part of sourdough baking is the bulk fermentation process, which begins when the flour and starter are mixed together. After a brief rest, you strengthen the dough and develop gluten using different folding techniques, resting between rounds. Typically you might do three sets of stretch and folds 30 minutes apart, then leave the dough alone for the remainder of this period. Many recipes instruct you to ferment for X more hours. However, every kitchen is its own environment and temperature plays a key role, both the ambient temperature and the temperature of your dough, which are more important than time.
BF ends when the dough has risen the desired amount, has bubbles on top and throughout, and jiggles like Jell-O. The warmer the dough (and the ambient temperature) the faster the process; and the percentage rise you’re looking for is lower. For example, if your dough is 76°F, your target rise might only be 40-50%, which could take 6-7 hours. If your dough temp is more like 70°, BF time could be 12 hours, and your target rise might be as much as 100%. So the appearance and behavior of the dough is more important than time.
Over the winter my kitchen was about 68°, so I had to use artificial means to get the dough into the mid-70s, rather than letting it sit on my counter. I tried placing the proofing vessel in the turned-off oven with the light on and a measuring cup of boiling water on the shelf alongside. I also tried using my warming mat, which turned out to be too hot. I finally settled on using the proof setting on the oven, which I think created an ambient temp of about 100. You can also use a proofing box made specifically for sourdough, but I have an aversion to tools that serve only one purpose, so I didn’t buy one.
My usual timeline was to feed the starter before going to bed, then mixing the dough by late morning so as to have plenty of time for bulk fermenting before the next step of shaping the dough into loaves and sticking them in the fridge overnight, to be baked the next day. But since life often gets in the way, I wanted to find a way to manage the process on my schedule, not the dough’s. My solution in the next installment.