Earlier this year, Mr GFB and I visited Hoylake and The Nook Supper Club. There, amongst the welcome cocktail, tortilla, fiduea noodles and fabulous company, there was talk of another special supper club they hold.
You may have come across the word cocido (co-thee-doe), perhaps in Milan, where there is a stew made of pork, with chorizo, chickpeas and potatoes. But this meal is based on the Galician Festo do Cocido which takes place every February. Pork, which has been preserved in salt the year before is the star of the show, and every Sunday for the whole of February, the Galicians literally pig out – eating a vast amount of pork – in celebration – eating every part of the pig imaginable.
Being from Galicia, two of the team behind The Nook, brought the festival with them (and a touch early, though there will be a repeat, I am assured) importing the salted pork, slaughtered in the festival the previous year, the chickpeas, three different kinds of chorizo and the grelos – a green vegetable that bears a resemblance to turnip tops, from Spain all for our greedy mouths.
We packed two bottles of red wine, and our appetites, and headed over to Merseyside.
As ever, The Nook begins with nibbles and a cocktail. As the flavours we were to enjoy, prepared and cooked for hours by our hosts, were big and bold, Nancy had opted for a big bold cocktail to start us off. A Negroni.
Traditionally this gin, Campari and Vermouth drink is Italian – rich, heavy and bitter. To add a little Spain to the drink, Nancy had added Seville orange peel to the gin, giving it an extra layer of citrus. Delicious. And a great pairing to our starter nibble, pork rinds cleaned of all traces of fat, dried and deep fried (also known as chicharrron), before being dusted with spicy smoked paprika.
We nibbled, drank and chatted to our fellow guests – some who we recognised from our earlier visit – before we headed downstairs to the new larger space that The Nook has created for guests. Fourteen of us in all, seated at a large round table.
The Cocido feast begins with a broth, filled with noodles, chickpeas and little morsels of chicken, this broth is from the cooking process, full of flavour from the chorizo and pork. Salty, rich, the chickpeas added a nutty note, it was warm and comforting, especially given the grey skies that had greeted us on arrival and the chill in the air.
Appetites whetted and plates cleared, Nancy brought down one of the special chorizos for us to see ahead of the main event. This not only contained the usual spiced cured meat, but also for extra flavour, pork ribs, which meant these chorizos were large, and distinctly shaped. Along side these, we’d also have an oval shaped chorizo which contained onion and a ‘normal’ one too. Sausage aplenty.
What should have passed through our minds, eyeing these two giant pieces of meat, was how large they were. Admittedly, there were fourteen at the table, but still, these were two vast sausages, and one of three. We remained oblivious as Nancy returned upstairs.
Our side dishes then arrived. Potatoes, the grelos, the other two chorizos sliced, and chickpeas all cooked within the pork broth. The above dish was between seven of us, a second circulated the table.
We perhaps dug into these flavourful, meat flavoured goodies a little too heartily, for there was the meat to come yet. And when it did…
Ribs, loin, head and the second chorizo all served on a vast platter – again, the above is for seven people.
And then yet more, pork leg, also cooked until tender and buttery.
Imagine Christmas, but instead of turkey, you’re served rich cured pork. The juices reduced to a thick gravy, the fat making your lips sticky, the meat filling your mouth with flavour, gentle spice from the sausages, and the lightly bitter greens cutting through it all.
It was incredible.
We ate. And we ate, until we were but picking at the remains on the dishes. Overfull, but still unable to quite let go.
Nancy returned to see how we were faring. Sticky fingers and mouths, tired eyes as the meat hit our system looked back at her. She asked us if we wanted more.
Wide eyed, we demurred. We couldn’t possibly. Nancy then told us that we had failed – as a nation we had let her down. The meal had been catered for a Galician sized appetite and we were barely half way. There was still the same again upstairs.
We were speechless. That sort of eating takes dedication and training.
However, we did have room for pudding. Obviously.
First were ‘ears’ – dough that had been rolled out thinly, then dropped into hot oil, a fork dragged through it to make is look like a large crispy ear. They were then dusted with sugar and left to cool. Similar to a churro in flavour, they were satisfyingly crispy and sweet after all that soft salty meat.
The final dessert was divine. Pancakes, thin and transparent are deftly made by Suzanna, who lifts them from the hot pan with her finger tips to turn them over, are then filled with a soft custard. And Nancy hadn’t just filled them with any custard, a stunning Triple Sec custard oozed from inside the pancakes, and the room went silent aside from appreciative coos over the dish.
The whole event was, to use an overused word (certainly in my vocabulary but particularly apt here), awesome. The amount of work from Jorge, Nancy and Suzanna, not only in sourcing the best quality ingredients, but in the preparation of the dishes was astounding and I for one am profoundly grateful. I can’t think of anywhere in the UK I could experience anything like this, and given my appetite seems to be exceedingly lacking by comparison, I’m not sure I could compete on a Galician level.
If you want to experience this, or any of the other Spanish treats Nook has to offer, then you can find them both on Twitter and on Facebook.
I cannot recommend a visit enough.
With thanks to everyone. This meal was paid for by ourselves.