I first saw Caldeirada featured in Anthony Bourdain's "No Reservations - Ecuador". Isabel was instructing her helpers to prepare fish soup in a rustic kitchen that seemed more out-doors than in-doors. Fish were frying, rich broths and stews were bubbling. The colors were richly inviting, and I ached to smell the aroma in Isabel's kitchen, taste her caldeirada - and watch her cook!
As Bourdain sat with his beer, many of Isabel's children and their spouses came to visit, greet Bourdain, and give him bottles of their liquor. Bourdain glowed with appreciation and astonishment when the Caldeirada was served - I think a few drinks prepared him to especially appreciate this stew, which uses ale and old bread blenderized with the broth.
He told his friend at the table, "This woman can cook!" When asked about the incredible flavor, Isabel mentioned saffron, among other things, and the beer. But, what I loved was the radiance in her face, her joy, and how she patted her bosom, her heart, and mentioned that love was the key. I really understood that.
I shopped at the Asian market for Thai basil, lemon grass and clams; pulled celery, potatoes, kale, red and yellow onions from the garden; went to Marlene's for fresh allspice and bay leaves; got a bottle of 'Fish Tales amber ale' at Tacoma Boys;
bought frozen salmon heads (for broth), mussels, and crayfish at Saar's; used limes, and sweet bell peppers from Top Foods; and purchased expired-date bagels from the Oroweat store.
My goal was to experiment with two distinctively different outcomes from my fish broth, one a Spicy Pepper Creole, the other the beer-batter Caldeirada (recipe) featured in Isabel's kitchen.
This was the first soup, the Spicy Pepper Creole.
I roasted an assortment of vegetables from the garden, saving all the pot liquors from the baking sheet. They were added to the fish broth, and simmered with all condiments and sauces - fresh lime, peanut sauce, Braggs liquid amino's. The trick with using frozen fish is to make a reduction broth from all these enhancements, then add the fish at the end of cooking. That promotes a richer flavor and preserves the integrity of the fish.
George packed Roasted Vegetable Creole for his lunch today - he didn't try Isabel's" Caldeirada" because of the beer. But I greatly enjoyed it, feeling grateful that I'd created something that will always remind me of Isabel and the savory goodness of her kitchen.
We ate dinner while watching a tape of Bear Grylls, "Man vs Wild - Scotland". Bear cooked a single fish over a small fire during a storm, holed up and under an old skiff. He'd collected tinder, got the fire going, and set his fish on top of peat moss. Earlier in the day he'd caught another fish, ate it raw, biting off the head and scooping out the entrails with his finger. Here, too, I saw an ancient gratitude - survival mode will make any meal a wonderment. He commented, "well, well", so pleased with his good fortune. His little fire crackled, the rain pummeled the highlands throughout the night, and he was safe and secure in his shelter.
