Barbate, near Cadiz, southwest Spain is known for its mojama — wind-dried tuna many now serve in thin slices on bread or on top of salad leaves
Tsukiji has long been synonymous with tuna. Equally expert with this mighty fish, but perhaps less well known, is Barbate, near Cadiz , southwest Spain, where tuna has been caught for more than 3000 years.
Nature has provided this seaside town with another ingredient that transforms tuna into a memorable dish: salt. Harvested from the surrounding salt flats, it is used to make mojama — the wind-dried tuna many now serve in thin slices on bread or on top of salad leaves.
My guide to the city was Paco Rodriguez, the quality controller at the Herpac tuna plant. We met up in one of Barbate’s numerous cafes, where he would also introduce me to a novel breakfast dish. Alongside our cafe con leche, we were served white toast onto which the locals smeared as much thick, fresh tomato pulp and olive oil as possible from the jars on the bar. Then, more challengingly, they attempted to eat without spilling a drop.
Due to the declining population of bluefin caused largely by aggressive sonar fishing, quotas are in place. Barbate’s fishermen, who use traditional methods, are so close to the narrow straits between Spain and Africa that they have the first opportunity to land these fish.
The equally well-travelled Phoenicians first appreciated this geographical advantage and established the almadraba, a system of long, deep nets that draw the tuna into ever tighter circles. Once brought to the surface, the fish are slaughtered on small fishing vessels and then taken ashore. But as the numbers of bluefin tuna have fallen, Rodriguez says, Barbate’s fish-processing industry has also been forced to buy in supplies of smaller, yellowfin tuna from Galicia in northwest Spain.
We drove to the Herpac plant, where my immersion in this fascinating fish took on a modern — and somewhat less romantic — turn. White hats, boots and jackets were donned before we walked into a series of cold and silent rooms. At about 80kg, yellowfin tuna are impressive. The aerodynamic shape that allows them to swim so fast also makes them relatively easy to divide into the 10 most preferred joints, with the Spaniards and Japanese united in their passion for the fatty belly (lomo to the former, toro to the latter).
The fillets, about a metre long, are immersed in salt and left to dry by netted windows, where they harden in the Levante wind that blows in from north Africa. Thus is born mojama, made in a magical process similar to Parma ham.
Then we were off to a place where few journalists have ever eaten — Pena el Atun, the local association of tuna fishermen. The bar area was devoted to members’ two obvious passions, football and tuna, but opened out into a courtyard of white walls, colorful ceramics and a wide grill. Lunch was tuna six different ways: thinly sliced loin; compressed tuna eggs with olive oil; stewed tuna with almonds; the belly two different ways; and, finally, a slice from the locally prized neck; €30 each, with Tio Pepe sherry. Fantastic!
