Last catch of the season
As this month draws to a close, so too does the season of La Almadraba. In the waters of Andalusia where the Atlantic meets the Mediterranean, and exclusively from April until the equinox of San Juan in the final week of June, skills honed for 3,000 years are used to locate and land one of the most gastronomically highly-prized big fish in the world — the Atlantic Bluefin Tuna.
Using techniques handed down from the Phoenicians and the Romans after them, the highly-skilled fishermen of the coastal towns of Barbate, Tarifa, Conil and the romantically-named Zahara de Los Atunes, among others close to the Strait of Gibraltar, practice an ancient method of trap-fishing which is ecological and sustainable, though labour-intensive and economically challenging, eschewing industrialised longline and purse seine fishing methods. The prize for their efforts is the exquisite deep red meat of this wild apex predator, which does not breed in captivity, and the prices fetched not only here in Spain but in the world’s fish markets — it is estimated that 80% of the catch is sent to Japan where it is a vital raw ingredient for the finest sushi and sashimi.
And breeding is the key. As spring turns to summer these huge 1,000 pound migratory hunters from the cold northern seas head for warmer climes to spawn in the western Mediterranean around the Balearic Islands. To get there, they must first pass at speed between the Pillars of Hercules, the promontories of the Iberian peninsula and North Africa where the Andalusian fishermen have been awaiting them since days of antiquity.
Throughout the short season the fishing boats head out early on the relatively chilly mornings and the small crews begin to set an elaborate maze of nets whose purpose is to divert and marshal the large concentrations of dark blue-grey giants which, driven by their primal urges, do not stop to eat and are neither interested in nor at all tempted by traditional bait, toward the centre of the the espacio donde se lucha or ‘area of the struggle’ — the small corral of co-ordinated boats which encircle and entrap the catch and which gives the method its Arabic name, La Almadraba.
Drama of the Almadraba
When the labyrinth is full, the men begin to haul the nets upwards as the boats close in, forming a decreasingly smaller ring around the tuna called the cuadra, until suddenly the fish break the surface in a threshing frenzy. The boats continue to approach to within metres of each other and in a moment of high drama some of the men jump overboard and into the erupting aquatic chaos amongst the razor-serrated spines of the tuna and twist ropes around their powerful, lashing tails to haul them aboard. If not already concussed from the flailing, the two-to-three metre long torpedo-shaped fish are quickly dispatched with a knife, ensuring that till the last possible moment they have not suffered and the meat will be the more succulent and tender.
The manual, artisan method of the catch learnt and perfected by Iberian families of fishermen over generations is non-aggressive and designed to minimise any stress of the fish; smaller specimens and other species are allowed to escape the trap.
Virtually all of the flesh of the Atún Rojo Salvaje de Almadraba is used in a wide variety of thick or thin culinary cuts, carpaccio, chunks, slices or fillets and is an intense red colour, extremely juicy and absolutely delicious whether enjoyed raw or seared for just a moment on each side of the fillet, or prepared in any of the 200 or so ways recommended, including grilled, stewed, fried, battered, and even combined with exotic ingredients such as chocolate, ginger, coriander or seaweed.
I’ve eaten as much of it as I could get this season from my local pescadería, and as much as my purse strings would allow for the relatively pricey delicacy.
Arantei Albariño — a taste of the Atlantic
As a wine pairing I’ve found the Finca Arantei Albariño 2018 from Bodegas La Val to be an excellent match. It’s another product of traditional practices from the Atlantic coast, specifically the Galician appellation of Rías Baixas and more precisely the micro-climate of the sub-zone of Condado de Tea. The grapes are grown on old vines tamed on head height pergolas to protect the fruit from coastal ground mist, and all of the crop for this bottling emanates from the alluvial clay and pebble-stone soil of a single plot. Fermentation occurs naturally from the indigenous yeast present in the vineyard and the wine is matured for six months on its lees in stainless steel deposits before clarification by natural methods and bottling on the estate.
The result is a refreshing and structured wine, with good acidity, typical citrus notes mixed with herbaceous and floral tones with a mineral and slightly saline background. It’s fresh but subtle, creamy, rounded with a long finish and just a hint of gentle spritz which sets it apart from other Albariños of the region. It is recommended to accompany seafood and richly-flavoured fish, chicken or rice dishes, pasta as well as cheese and foie-gras.
I’ll certainly be fishing further with this wine, and am already looking forward to enjoying another haul when the catch of the magnificent wild Atún Rojo de Almadraba comes round again next year.
