Sure enough, at Castillo El Collado, Javier Acilonna appears from nowhere, his shoulders hunched inward under an oversized suit. In a movie, his entrance would have been accompanied by a flash of lightning and a thunderclap. “Come,’’ he says, ushering me toward the kitchen.
Acilonna is no phantom. He’s a kind and hard-working hotelier in this Basque corner of the Rioja region, in northeastern Spain. His riojanas, also simply called patatas con chorizo, are a spiritual cousin to paella, pulling flavors from the ingredients and transferring them to the starch. “The potatoes must come from a dry climate,’’ he says, equating the spuds to the region’s trademark wine; a tough growth cycle yields a better grape. “It gives more flavor and they cook better.’’
He demonstrates a peculiar method for cutting the potatoes; he uses his paring knife to cut partway through before giving the handle a twist and breaking off a thumb-size irregular chunk. In the pot, his potatoes, which come from a handful of growers in the nearby Alava region, absorb the flavors of chorizo, dried piquillo pepper, fresh bay leaves he has grabbed from a tree out front, and the meat and bone of a single pork rib.
He combines all of these in a stockpot, brings it to a boil, and lets it bubble away until the potatoes are tender. In a separate pan over high heat, he pours in enough olive oil to generously coat the bottom of the pan and adds finely diced onion. He lets that sizzle away for half a minute, tossing it constantly, before removing the pan from the heat and stirring in a tablespoon of paprika. He tips the paprika mixture into the pot of potatoes.
“We use paprika in everything,’’ Acilonna says, “but my secret is in another ingredient: cariño (care).’’
It sounds a bit like what the French would call la soupe. But when he spoons up a taste from a bouillabaisse-like tureen, it’s easy to understand why the dish is so famous in the region.