Discoveries at the Mercado da Ribeira

One of my favorite places in Barcelona is the great semi open air local marketplace, La Boqueria.  Even eight years ago, as a budding foodie, the place was like heaven and I frequently spent hours wandering among the booths of fresh fruits and vegetables piled high, everything fresh and top quality; cases of amazing Spanish cheeses; 15+ varieties of mushrooms that I had never heard of; displays of fresh and dried chili peppers hanging from the rafters; butcher shops that sold horse meat; barrels of nuts, seeds, and beans; ostrich, emu and farm eggs; fresh and dried herbs and spices, including saffron galore; and located smack dab in the center, with booths lining the inside and outside edges of the doughnut-shaped structure, the hub, the seafood domain.  Never in my life had I seen so many different kinds of fish: whole, filleted, portioned into steaks, you name it.  I had naively thought that shrimp were shrimp.  I knew they came in various sizes; I had bought every size from the yummy little shrimp destined to be doused in cocktail sauce to the monster tiger shrimp that my dad would sauté with mushrooms, sundried tomatoes and capers.  Needless to say, as I had never even heard of a langoustine, my eyes were opened to the many species that exist between the lines of shrimp and lobster.  “Sepia”, cuttlefish, was a new one to me and since it was pretty cheap, thinly sliced, tossed around in a hot pan, and added to pasta dressed with chimmichurri became a frequent meal.  Speaking of cheap, being poor was not a hardship when fresh mussels cost 2.50 euros per kilo! I’ll save you the math; that’s $1.36 per pound!  Pike’s Place, with your impressive fish slingers and monster crabs, you’re great, but you’ve got nothing on La Boqueria!

Now I realize that having La Boqueria as my first experience of these European marketplaces has set the bar pretty high.  Having said that, I was still super excited when on our first day of exploring Lisbon, we stumbled across a large building entitled Mercado da Ribeira and full of tables of fruits and vegetables!  Considering that it was probably around 6ish (as I said, when you catch the red-eye to a foreign country, don’t sleep on the plane, and then deal with an 8 hour time difference, time is really a state of mind), I wasn’t surprised that most of the wares were covered with cloth and the only traffic was a truck or two delivering stock for the next day.  I well knew that these markets were no Alvarado Tuesday market attracting evening strollers, tasters and onlookers; you get in early, Mercado da Ribeira opens at 6:00 am and closes at 2:00 pm, you select your produce or fish or whatever, and you get on with your day.  Oh yeah, and they’re all closed on Sundays.

The following day, taking into consideration our extreme sleep deprivation, the goal was to sleep in, eat a quick snack and get to the market before closing time.  Around 1:30 we slipped in the door to find the building half empty with only a few tables set up and the main attraction in my book, fish booths, cleaned up and long shut down for the day.  Apparently the posted 2:00 pm closing referred to the time that the doors of the building were technically locked shut.  Actual quitting time was clearly at the vender’s discretion.  Not wholly impressed by the wares displayed by the straggling venders, we left.  I will say, however, despite the half empty tables, that just seeing the inside of the building, the space that I knew had been crawling with seafood just an hour ago was a tease, a taste, just enough to whet my appetite.  I swore that tomorrow, no time change or catching up on missed sleeping or anything was going to keep me from my seafood bonanza!

The next day we woke up early (ish), showered and hit the cobblestones destined for the market.  When we reached the open doors, the bustling of shoppers, produce tables lining the interior, the smell of commerce was promising.  We skipped past the produce, I’ve seen leeks, peaches, herbs, and bananas…show me the strange and mysterious Mediterranean fish and shellfish made even more exotic by their indecipherable Portuguese names!   

On our way to the fish, I appeased Jonathan by consenting to poking our heads into the 5+ butcher shops.  We saw pig heads (the guy on the right even wagged the pig's ears at me for the camera!); hooves; innards that many Americans wouldn’t recognize as food; whole roasted suckling pigs; cured meat; smoked meat; whole pork bellies (instead of curing and smoking it for bacon, they slice it to order and send it home destined for the grill); chorizo; blood sausage; linguica; you name it,  the works. 

Cuttle Fish, Red Snapper, Sand Dabs, etc.

We then turned the corner and let me tell you!  Our persistence was rewarded with 20+ booths of shaved ice displaying the bounty of the sea: John Dory, turbot, sardines, grouper, red snapper, tuna, salmon, a sand dab looking fish, black ribbon fish (aka: black swordfish), and Spanish mackerel, another of our Akaoni favorites. Bags of black sea snails -  contrast to the white garden snails we gobbled down at breakfast, which were sold in even larger bags in another section of the market.  Giant Cuttle fish, large and medium sized octopus.  Eels: morays, little live squirming ones, and more.

Squirming Eels & Octopus

Silver Ribbon Fish

Giant, silver, eel-like creatures, strangely similar to the vertically swimming silver ribbon fish that Jonathan remembered from the Cook Islands.  There was even a fish that looked an awful lot like the goat fish Jonathan shot in Hawaii, minus the mini catfish-like feelers.  Goose neck barnacles, lobsters, prawns, little neck clams, razor clams, and mussels.    And, last but not least, the monkfish, their delicately delicious livers exposed to prove that the fish had survived its journey from ocean to market without damage.  And, I must say, it was a good thing my knowledgeable-in-all-things-food-related husband was with me, or half of these poor fish would have remained nameless!

Random Fish Scraps

 We also saw something I had never seen in a fish market before: a bin of miscellaneous odds and ends sold for the purpose of fish stew or whatever.  Although the approaching of animals as food in a holistic use perspective is not a new concept, I loved that through the sale of every last eatable morsel, the resourceful vender refused to waste, food or potential income!

Moray Eel, Random Eels, & the Gorgeous Monkfish

Now even I have to admit that some of these fish, sprawled out on the ice, look pretty ugly and unappetizing.  And, that in a fish market of this kind you are more than likely going to get sprayed with some fishy water or other and may have to dodge a flying scale or two.  What exactly is the basis of the fish market appeal bordering on obsession, you ask?  The answer is, I freaking love seafood: the visually stunning appearance of the creatures, the smell when they’re sizzling in the pan, the varying textures in your mouth (namely the crunch of a fried Monterey spot prawn head, I’m telling you, go to Akaoni!), and of course, the taste.  Seriously, I am not turned off by the ugliness of the monkfish with its insides displayed on its outside, I think of the texture and flavor of the liver as it melts in your mouth.  And although at a very young age my dad instilled within me a deep fear of eels (“Don’t stick your hand in the crevice of the rock or an ell might bite off your fingers!”), when I do see one, mouth open, poking its snakelike head from between two rocks, I ignore its creepiness, bite down on my snorkel and picturing it grilled and slathered in unagi sauce on a chunk of sticky rice.  I see the giant 300 pound tuna at the Monterey Bay Aquarium and I think, mmm, crusted in black sesame seeds, ginger and spicy tōgarashi, seared on the outside, raw on the inside. 

Spanish Mackerel

They say that addiction is a disease, but not even routinely stuffing my face with snails, crab, mussels, etc. will ever cure me of my "affliction".  And who wants a cure?  I mean, after all, it's not like it's crack!

Speaking of stuffing my face, up next: Seafood Smorgasbord at O Ramiro.