Guest Post: "Horchata de Chufa" (a.k.a. "Orxata de Xufa") – Valencia’s Liquid Gold!

There are few things more Valencian than horchata. Which was why at some point I had intended to blog about it. That is, until I met Neima Briggs, a fellow Austinite (i.e. from Austin, Texas) and recent Fulbright fellow to Valencia, but most important, perhaps the world's biggest chufa fan. Here is a guy who practically bleeds horchata. I was so impressed with his personal passion for the topic that I invited him to write an entry on it himself. Neima first came to Spain (to San Sebastian-Donostia in the Basque Country) back in 2009. But he returned to the horchata heartland, Valencia, in 2011-2012 on a Fulbright Research Grant to study —no, not horchata— antibiotic resistance development in bacteria residing in the gastrointestinal tract of humans, and how that resistance transfers between mother and infant. But he still found time while he was here to explore all aspects of Valencia's most famous refreshment. Below he provides you with a window into the long history and local love of the chufa, and even his own recipe! Following his year here, he will return to the United States to begin his studies on an MD/PhD at the University of Texas School of Medicine at Houston.

Two large glasses of horchata without sugar (left) and
horchata granizada (right), which has a frozen slushy
consistency. The dessert shown is a tart made with a
cream from tigernuts.

From corner vendors to centuries old horchatería’s, it’s hard to walk anywhere in Valencia on a warm summer’s day and not be tempted to indulge in the cold, sweet horchata de chufa ("orxata de xufa" in Valenciano).

It is unknown precisely when Valencianos first started squeezing the milk from the tigernut ("chufa"), but written records have accounts of the drink existing as early as the end of the first millennia during the Muslim occupation of Spain. The name orxata, is believed to derive from the Valenciano word ordiata, ordi meaning barley in Latin. However, ask a local vendor at an horchatería in Valencia and chances are they will tell you the local folk story of its origin.  It is said that when James I of Aragon (a.k.a. Jaume I) came to the Kingdom of Valencia to help solidify relations before the impending Muslim invasion, he was approached in Alboraya (a small town on the outskirts of the modern Valencia capital city) by a small girl carrying the drink. After sipping the drink, he told the child, "Açò és or, xata!" ("That's gold, darling!"). Whether or not this is the true etymology of the word, for locals the drink is as precious as gold.

Shown here is the tigernut plant
(photo from tigernut.com),
a small tuber plant with the tigernut
itself growing in the ground. Harvested
between April and September every
year, fields and fields of it can be seen
on the northern outskirts of Valencia.

On average 10mm long, tigernuts are small tubers that make great snacks, but are predominately grown to make horchata. My Valencian coworkers, themselves health scientist and doctors, have told me on numerous occasions about the health benefits of the tigernuts. High in minerals such as Phosphorous, Potassium and Vitamins E and C, tigernuts are currently under study for health benefits with improving blood circulation and prevention of heart attacks. The high fiber content combined with the highly soluble glucose content have many Valencian doctors recommending the drink to help reduce the risk of colon cancer and to help with normal day digestion. [Editorial note: If you are curious to read more about the Valencia "chufa" denomination of origen standards, click here.]

A name familiar throughout most of Latin American, up into the southern United States, horchata exists in many forms. Known as horchata de arroz (white rice) to Americans and Mexicans, although similarly prepared, the milk extraction from rice creates its own distinct flavor. The source of the milk varies greatly worldwide, ranging from ground almonds, sesame seeds, rice, barley, or tigernuts. To make local varieties even more distinctive, spices and flavors are commonly added, including an 18 herb infusion in Ecuador, cocoa and nutmeg in El Salvador and jicaro seeds and spices in Nicaragua and Honduras.

Basket of cleaned tigernuts made available for consumption for patrons at Horchatería Daniel.
Sold in small packs for individual consumption or in larger bags for making horchata.

Given the regional craze for all things chufa, there is naturally
a local organic beer brewed from the tigernut, too.

Exterior photo of Horchatería Daniel from Hola Valencia

You can find horchaterías (sit-downs dedicated to making fresh horchata) all over Valencia. The most famous among the locals is Horchatería Daniel, located in the heart and birthplace of horchata, Alboraya on aptly named Avinguda de l’Orxata (right next to the Machado metro exit on the red Line 3). [Editorial note: the people of Alboraya even jokingly call each other "chuferos".] Many Valencian city locals will flock with the family to this small town north of the city on a lazy Sunday afternoon to drink various concoctions Horchatería Daniel makes using horchata – including with coffee, without sugar for diabetics and non-sweet lovers, and different flavors of ice cream - and desserts made of chocolate and sometimes the tigernut, too! A traditional snack to have with the ice-cold horchata is fartons, a light pastry with a light glazing on top or powder sugar. (Don’t be surprised to see everyone around dunking their fartons into the horchata!) While you’re out in Alboraya be sure to walk along Avinguda de l’Orxata to the Museum of Horchata! 

Two traditional glasses of horchata with fartons (pastries in between the horchata) and
churros (fried bread with sugar on top), the latter of which is usually eaten with thick melted chocolate.
A delicious and filling Valencian treat at Horchatería de Santa Catalina!

Horchatería de Santa Catalina: Beautiful and typically Valencian hand-painted tiles encompass
horchata drinkers as they enjoy it inside one of Valencia's favorite establishments.

Its iconic exterior façade.

Two other equally worthy establishments where you can also try horchata are right in the cultural heart of Valencia in the Plaza de la Reina. The first, Horchatería de Santa Catalina is an establishment with over two hundred years of horchata-making tradition and its history encompasses you, literally. With ornate carvings in the ceilings on the second floor and beautiful hand-painted tile work in the entrance and walls, the building is as much of a treat as their incredible horchata. Although the choices are limited compared to Horchatería Daniel, the horchata and fartons are nothing short of perfection on a Valencian hot summer day. Right across the walkway is Horchatería El Siglo, another horchatería with two hundred years of tradition, but smaller in size. Worth a visit for the horchata alone, Horchatería El Siglo also has nice outdoor seating, perfect for a sunny day.

The Falla de Santa Catalina even included a miniature rendition
of the Horchatería El Siglo in its 2012 falla.

So now that you are addicted to Valencia’s liquid gold, you'll want to know how you can get more when you go home. Luckily, bottled horchata is sold all around Spain in grocery stores. Before you leave Valencia, you might also consider the fact that many horchaterías (and at the airport) sell a condensed horchata, so at home you can turn a one liter bottle into five liters worth of delicious enjoyment. Do you think bottled horchata is just not the same as that overwhelmingly delicious fresh-made hortchata? For those returning to the United States or anywhere in Europe, there is a Spanish food distributor LaTienda.com where you can order food to fill all your Spanish cravings (no need to stuff your suitcase with tigernuts!). They sell a bottled brand of horchata, Chufi.

Neima Briggs, today's guest author, showing his love of Valencia
at Sevilla's Plaza de España

That said, I have found making the horchata myself fun and without question well worth the effort. At $18 a bag, you can treat yourself to four liters of horchata spread out over the course of months. Although once made the horchata will go bad after a week, the nuts stay good for two years when placed in a well-ventilated dark space (best in a dry portion of the refrigerator). The recipe is quite simple and, building from years of practice, I have include my recipe below for those adventurous enough to try it. If you are interested, click the link below and keep reading...

Expat Profiles – "Mr. Earnestly Not Hemingway", A Tale of Two Cities

A Tale of Two Cities' Bat Symbol, Austin and Valencia

I was recently interviewed for Blog Expat's series on expat bloggers. Go ahead, check it out. I know you're curious (¡Cotilla!) to know more about me, and I said more there than I have here. They frame their interviews around the theme of "from place x to place y", which in my case is from Austin, Texas to Valencia, Spain. It got me thinking, once again, of all the serendipitous parallels there are between my hometown and my adopted town... bat symbols, March madness lots of sun, approximate populations of 1 million people, and both dramatically transformed over the last 30 years.

I'm also taking this quasi-autobiographical detour, because pretty soon I hope to start a series profiling expats who've lived in Spain for a long time... Hey! All you other Spain bloggers out there! Know anyone interesting? How about you post an interview with them. (That's right, enough about you... And, no, I'm not talking about a guest post from one of your fellow bloggers. I'm talking about the interesting people you know or have met, who don't spend all their time online writing about themselves or their personal predilections.) Anyway, in the spirit of fairness, I'll first say a little about myself, a.k.a. "An Expat in Spain" —though a big fan recently re-dubbed me "Mr. Earnestly Not Hemingway"— by saying a little about my two hometowns.

It's always disconcerting, and admittedly a bit of a let down to realize that my story
is not nearly as exciting as that of hundreds of other expats out there... For example,
"From Minnesota to Hanoi: Fishsauce, Motorbikes and the golden Tortoise"...
now that's packaging!

Pretty soon the bluebonnets
will be in bloom in Texas!

Unlike Hemingway and many other expats residing here, I wasn't especially drawn to Spain, initially. (Closet confessions: when I was in college, what I really wanted to do was go to France, to live in Paris. Cliché! Sound familiar, Hemingway? The only reason Spain ended up being one of my first European destinations was because of language. Growing up in Texas, I learned Spanish, so I figured [Texanism!] it was appropriate to visit the one European country which speaks my one foreign language.) So my path to Spain is quite different from many of the other expats who blog here. I wasn't so quickly smitten by the country or the culture. I didn't drop everything to come live here for its sun, or food, or "way of life". It was accidental. Unlike Hemingway, I fell in love with and married a Spaniard (who, by the way, I didn't meet in Spain, but in a heretofore unmentioned third-party country). For me, falling in love with Spain, and especially falling in love with Valencia has been part and parcel with my having a wife and her family here who is Spanish, and who, without even trying to convince me of Spain or Valencia's elegance and beauty (they are, after all, not particularly patriotic, certainly less than me), continuously amaze me through their offhand cultural remarks or simple day trips, with the cultural richness of their city and region. A colleague of mine once said: "If you know 20 things, you think you know everything. But when you know 200 things, you know how little you know." After over a decade of coming to know this city, everyday better and better, it is only now that I know how little of its wonders I really know. I'm completely smitten.

But in Valencia, I have the "Azahar" or
orange blossom in late March, early April

Digression: My history dissertation advisor once advised me, in so many words, that... "We are all always telling stories about ourselves. All kinds of stories. The trick to succeeding at something [at that time getting a research grant] is telling a story that makes it natural to explain how you got from where you are, or where you came from, to where you want to be going." These are very wise words. We historians are professional story-tellers, but everyone tells stories. The hard part is learning how to draw upon this natural tendency for blogging story-telling, to consciously craft stories (but not fib!) about yourself and others, so as to open up new and fruitful futures. This is why historians are apt to repeat the saying, "What's past is prologue."

The funny thing is that my hometown Austin is kind of like Valencia when it comes to being passed up for other more flashy or convenient tourist destinations. (Aside: I've been egging on some travel blogger friends of mine to make Austin one of their next destinations.) Austin definitely was, for a long time, an underrated city. Though I think flashy events like South By Southwest have finally put it on the map. I've had a lot of conversations with costal Americans (i.e. Eastcoast, Westcoast) which have gone as follows:

Austin is both different from the rest
of Texas, and at the same time
_very_ Texan.

Costal person: "Where are you from?
Me: Texas. [hesitation, noting CP's anxiety] Austin, Texas. [relief on CP's face]
CP: "Austin! Oh, I've heard Austin is pretty cool! I've always wanted to visit it."
Me: "Oh, yeah? You should!"
CP: "Yeah [pause], [slowly] I would, but it's in Texas [disparaging, lamenting tone]. I don't know when I would _ever_ pass through there."
Me: [Hiding disappointment at yet another Costal person's phobia of America's center and lack of awareness of all its friendly, quirky fun.]

Maybe this is where I got that chip on my shoulder about Valencia... ah, transference. Except it's worse here because there's no excuse about Valencia being in the middle of nowhere, like one could hypothetically argue with Austin. Valencia is now only an hour and a half from Madrid by train, 3 hours from Barcelona, and less than 2-3 hours by plane from a bunch of European capitals.

Sure, George W. Bush was governor of Texas, but before him there was
biker governor Anne Richards, and since him we had the likes of Kinky Friedman
(unsuccessfully) run. Austin just recently mourned the loss of Albert "Leslie" Cochran,
a very politically active homeless transvestite, who though unsuccessfully ran
for mayor three times, was very successful in putting a spotlight on the issues
that the city's homeless faced. He She will be missed! Despite their leftist agendas,
none of these people would makes sense anywhere but Texas, and fit right in in Austin.

Anyway, the other day, as I was thinking about all this, it struck me for perhaps the umpteenth time how odd and crazy it is that both cities have for their symbol the same creature: the bat (in Spanish "murciélago"). For me, it's almost like destiny. I mean it's not like they chose a lion (England) or a bear (Madrid) or some other typical symbolic animal of power like that. Nope they both chose a flying rat the peculiar nocturnal animal, the humble bat. As it turns out, while the stories for how they elected this mammalia volans are pretty different, the principal inspiration is basically the same, there are a lot of bats flying around both cities.

Valencia's bat ("rat penat" in Valencian Catalan) iconography is steeped in tradition and colorful tales about the city's reconquest by Jaume I. Story goes that the night before he was to invade Valencia, Jaume I and his soldiers were awoken by a mysterious noise outside their tents. As it happened, just at that moment the Moorish armies were sneaking up to attack his troops while they slept. The king and his army, thus awakened by this noise, had no trouble defending against the surprise attack. Later, they determined that the noise had been made by a bat. According to this story, out of gratitude to this fortuitous nighttime visit by the animal, King Jaume I incorporated the bat into his symbol, placing it above the crown to become the city's "escudo" or seal. A less colorful explanation points to the fact that Jaume I's original seal had a dragon above it. Locals in Valencia continuously confused the dragon for a much more familiar creature, the bats that frequented the city and were beneficial to farmers in fighting off insects that would otherwise plague the crops of L'horta de València. By the 18th century, officials simply dispensed with the dragon and put a bat in its place. Whichever story you believe, the result is a lot of bat iconography around town, principally in the city's seal, but also appearing incorporated into other local institutions.

Yep, if you look up above the Ayuntamiento entrance (no, above the falleras!)
you'll see the bat over the city seal, one of many such official bats all over town.

Probably the most famous use of the bat in Valencia is in the Valencia CF soccer team's logo

Some shrubs in the shape of the Valencia seal, including the bat,
in the Río Turia near Plaza de Zaragoza.

You'll even see the bat on the utility covers on the streets of Valencia.

The bat regularly appears in Fallas. I saw it this year in this falla's light display,
the famous Convento-Jerusalén.

On the prowl for bats in the city, I found one in this street mural.
I encourage you to make a game of it. How many bat can you find in Valencia?

The story behind Austin's adoption of a bat symbol is a mixture of charming ecotourism and savvy (if also a bit commercial) marketing strategy. At some point in the late 1980s, the city powers that be realized Austin was home to the largest urban bat colony in the world – 1.5 million Mexican free-tail bats, most of whom sleep under Congress bridge downtown. And as anyone who knows Texans will know, being the largest or biggest at something is something a Texan won't let pass without being celebrated, boasted about, and transformed into a coffee mug. By the 1990s, local tourism institutions had figured out how to turn this into a tourism boon, encouraging people to visit mid March to November, especially in September when the migratory colony is largest because of a bunch of newborn baby bats. Out of this emerged a bunch of bat symbols, linked with Austin's other famous exports... Slacker (1991)-style "Keep Austin Weird" weirdness, live music, and quirky politicians of all political stripes.

This bat statue marks the area next to Congress Bridge where people line up
to watch the bats fly out at evening from under the bridge.

Why take my, or any Texans' word for it? When you can trust this banner placed
on the bridge years ago, which states definitively that this is the _largest_ (urban)
bat colony. What I don't understand is why this statement hasn't already been
 etched in bronze (or pink granite) there.

People can cruise on Town Lake to watch the bats from the river... on
boats which feature, yep, a bat.

Perhaps the most unlikely of uses of Austin's bat image is for the mascot of
the city's professional hockey team. (Hockey? In Texas? Get a rope.) Yes,
Austin's team is called the "Ice Bats", and this is their logo. Scary, or cute?

As if that coincidence weren't enough, both cities also completely transform in March. Valencia has its Fallas festival, fireworks, falla statues, and festival food, Austin its South by Southwest festival, film, music, and. Both festivals peak around the same time, March 9th through 19th, just when both cities' natural beauties, Valencia's River Turia and Austin's Greenbelt, are on the verge of blooming with full spring fever.

March Madness: Valencia has Fallas. Austin has SXSW.

Ah, yes. Austin and Valencia. My past and my future. I love you both, equally!

Speaking of Fallas... here's another mascletà video:

Wednesday's Day 14 (March 14, 2012) mascletà was pretty amazing. The pyrotechnician company is
Hermanos Caballer, one of several offshoot companies from the Caballer family,
that has a long and glorious history of great fireworks shows.
(You'll see the name Caballer a lot this week on the Fallas program.) They don't disappoint!

Los Dulces de Sant Donís: A Valencia valentine tradition

This Sunday, the 9th of October, was "El Día de la Comunidad Valenciana," an important local holiday in Valencia marked by many public celebration events (a mascletà and a parade of the Community flag) as well as occasional outbursts of regional pride and separatist sentiment. I'll probably cover these topics another year. This year I want to mention a particularly lovely tradition that also falls on the 9th of October: the "dulces de Sant Donís," mazapán sweets taking the form of fruit that you can find in your local horno and which are traditionally given as a gift to one's lover. La Mocadorà de Sant Dionís (colloquially call "Sant Donís") is for many Valencians the local equivalent of America's Saint Valentine's or Barcelona's Sant Jordi (for those of you familiar with it), and for the week leading up to it the city's bakeries are decorated with these colorful artisanal delights.

The 9th of October is very important in the history of Valencia because it is the day of the Christian king Jaume I's triumphal entrance into the city of Valencia having defeated the Muslims and removed them from the region in 1238. It is the stuff of local legends, and I'm sure there will be many more opportunities to fill you in on all the myths, traditions, and local iconography that surrounds Jaume I the Conqueror.

The story behind the dulces de Sant Donís is interesting in itself. According to one site, in the 18th century, following the Spanish War of Succession, the Bourbon royal family prohibited the celebrations and especially the use of fireworks surrounding the 9 D'Octubre festivities. As a response to this ban, the local bakers in the city produced sweets using mazapán which took the shape of hand fireworks (petardos), and whose phallic and round forms were also said to evoke male and female sexual organs. The piuleta i tronador, whose nomenclature also has a sexual ring to it, became a classic sweet for men to buy their beloved, often wrapping them in a scarf or "mocador" in Catalán (a.k.a. pañuelo in Spanish) the namesake for the holiday tradition.

The piuleta i tronador surrounded by the "huerta de Valencia".

This valentine tradition is an opportunity for bakeries to flex their artisanal skills
and demonstrate the art of baking.

Alongside these valentine sweets, bakers also made mazapán sweets in the shape of fruits and vegetables, "fruites de massapà" to evoke the fertility of "la huerta de Valencia" (literally the "orchard", but more figuratively the "fertile agrarian region of Valencia"). Legend was that fruits and vegetables had been gifted to Doña Violante de Hungría, the wife of Jaume I, by the people of Valencia when Jaume I entered the city back in the 13th century. Valencians could rebel symbolically against the Bourbon slight on their local traditions by gifting these sweets to each other. And eventually a new tradition was born in parallel with the 9 D'Octubre regional celebrations. Following this tradition, a woman could keep her scarves gifted to her year after year and thereby have a collection marking all the years together with her beloved.

If it's a fruit or vegetable it's healthy for you to eat, right?

Whether or not you're feeling regional pride for Valencia or sentimental affection for your lover, it is difficult to resist these adorable and creative confectionery creations. They're a big hit here in the city. Last year the city's confectioners estimated they used around 40,000 kilos of mazapán to make them. (Addendum: by tradition all the fruites de massapà will taste the same, made from the same mazapán base, except the potatoes and mushrooms which have cinnamon added to them.) So if you walk by a bakery in Valencia the week leading up to 9 D'Octubre, be sure to drop in and buy some. They're as much a visual work of art as culinary joy, quite a treat!