Tortilla Española
If you’ve had the opportunity to explore Spain, you know the Tortilla Española. If you haven’t, welcome to your new favorite way to eat eggs -- for breakfast, lunch, snack, or dinner. This is the kind of simple food that I could live on, day in and day out, and never tire of.
We were in Madrid for a few days in early 2019, and a daily wedge of tortilla was as important to me as my daily dose of hot churros dipped in thick chocolate. Don’t worry, I ate plenty of vegetables with my tapas and wine.
But the most memorable tortilla I enjoyed was in Toledo. Through a series of unfortunate events and classic travel moments, we had tickets to Toledo in hand but no way to get to the train station where our train was departing in fifteen minutes. There wasn’t time to request an Uber, all taxis were on strike (of course!), and the hotel’s car was already off on an errand. We would either miss our chance at experiencing Toledo or we could run the mile or more to the train station. Walking wasn’t going to cut it.
And so we ran. Through crowded sidewalks, dodging people, dogs, cars in alleys, streams of tourists spilling out of buses. Past a group of police! DPK ran ahead and I trailed behind in my less-than-ideal-non-running-shoes, trying not to injure myself, while also trying to look sort of normal and not like a criminal that’s just escaped jail.
Skidding into the train station, asking directions to the correct platform from every station employee we passed, attracting all attention, we literally jumped into the train sweating, red in the face, gasping for air. Dying of thirst, and starving because a little “ticket printing incident” interrupted what would have been our breakfast time, we sank into our seats -- hoping Toledo was worth it.
The train sped out of Madrid, past the industrial edges of the city, into open expanse of rolling hills and olive trees. It was not a long journey, maybe thirty minutes, and just enough time to cool off. We arrived in Toledo relieved, and delighted at the beautiful little train station that greeted us. The taxis were not on strike in Toledo, and a friendly driver sped us up the winding road to this ancient city on a hill.
He dropped us at the Catedral Primada Santa María de Toledo -- a massive structure initiated in the 13th century under the rule of Ferdinand III. We stood for a moment, in the quiet and shadow of the church, listening to the bells ring.
“I’m starving,” I announced. And DPK knows that statement is akin to a time bomb. If you ignore it, no one goes unscathed.
He’s a researcher of all things, so of course, he already had a few options mapped out. Bar Restaurante Ludeña was one of them, and happened to be a short stroll from where we were. We found the entrance just a few blocks away, through narrow cobbled streets, the entrance covered in a colorful curtain to block the cold wind from entering this tiny and cozy little haven.
We were some of the first to arrive. We sat at the bar counter, overlooking several tapas, the beer tap, and legs of jamon hanging from hooks. The bar owner passed us drinks -- a frosty beer to split and bottles of the water I’d been longing for. He brought potato chips, some green olives, manchego, bread, and two slices of tortilla. One was covered in a red sauce thick with tomatoes, ragout of pork and peas (a family recipe, I was told, which we’ll explore together at some point in this space) and the other just plain, traditionally filled with onions and potatoes.
So simple, so perfect. The frenzy to get there was completely worth it in that moment as the owners explained that this bar had belonged to their father. There was a sense of timelessness and tradition that I don’t often find in my corner of the world.
As we savored this delicious feast, locals began to stroll in for a mid-afternoon snack and small glasses of beer. Most of them were old enough to have known a world much different than the one we live in today. They nodded at us, friendly in spite of the fact that we weren’t familiar faces. There was a sense of community, gathering in this humble but sincere space. A reminder of our humanity: the need for simple pleasures and a slowing of the world for just a moment.
Tortilla Española
Recipe adapted by Stephanie Kunstle from Mark Bittman’s recipe for the New York Times
A few notes: This recipe includes fresh, tender greens -- it’s not traditional yet not unheard of, and we love it this way.
Also, you’ll need a good skillet (I use a 10-inch cast iron skillet) for this, preferably with fairly vertical -- not super sloped -- sides. I hear non-stick is helpful, but I’m actually kind of against non-stick cookware as a rule...so I can’t help you there.
If you’re cooking for a crowd, and you have an even bigger skillet, you can up your ingredients accordingly! I’ve doubled this recipe in my 12-inch cast iron. Just make sure you have a plate/tray big enough to flip it onto.
Ingredients:
1 and ¼ lbs peeled yukon gold or russet potatoes
1 medium onion
1 cup extra virgin olive oil
8 large eggs
2 large handfuls of leafy tender greens like baby kale, chard, spinach - all optional (roughly 3 oz. total)
Salt
Preparation:
Slice potatoes in half lengthwise, then slice pieces to ⅛ inch thickness
Slice onion in half from top to bottom, then slice each half into ⅛ thickness.
Heat olive oil over medium heat for 3-5 minutes. Test oil with a slice of potato, if it sizzles when you slide it into the oil, it’s ready.
Add potatoes and onion to the oil and gently fold them into the oil -- you want nice, clean slices layered into your tortilla, not broken chunks. You do not want these to brown, so keep them moving and adjust the heat slightly if needed. At first, it will appear like not much is happening. Stir/fold gently every 2-3 minutes, by about 5 minutes in, the oil should be simmering and the onions and potatoes will start to cook down a bit. Around 8 minutes, the oil will be bubbling -- keep your eye out for doneness. You should be able to pierce a slice of potato with a fork easily, but without it falling apart. By about 10 minutes, the onions and potatoes should be done.
Drain the onion and potatoes in a colander set into a bowl. Reserve the oil for a bit later.
Beat eggs in a large bowl with a large pinch or so of salt. Add the greens and stir together. Add the onions and potatoes and mix them all well, being careful not to break the potatoes.
Wipe out the skillet, heat it again over medium flame, and add 2 Tbsp. of the reserved oil. Add the egg mixture to the skillet, and let the bottom and edges create a crust -- about a minute or so. Reduce heat down to medium-low and cook for 4 to 5 minutes. You are looking for firm sides and bottom (test for this by running a rubber spatula around the edges and pushing in a bit to peek), and the inside of the tortilla will be starting to solidify but will still be quite runny.
Ok. Now, cut the heat and take a couple of deep breaths. YOU GOT THIS. You are about to flip this sucker, and you might make a mess, but that’s what paper towels are for. So no freaking out. Pick a surface to do this over that is easiest to clean up if necessary… like a kitchen counter rather than the hot surface of your stove.
There’s two ways to do this. I cover the skillet with a plate or tray that’s bigger than the surface of the skillet. With lots of courage, while holding the plate onto the skillet with one hand, quickly invert the skillet with the other -- or however feels most secure and comfortable to you. Now the skillet is on top, the runny tortilla is resting on the plate, and you’re in one piece. Try to avoid holding it at any angle other than horizontally for more than a millisecond or you’ll spill some of that egg. Not the end of the world if you do. Mark Bittman recommends sliding the tortilla out from the skillet onto a plate, covering it with another, and then inverting. This feels like an extra step to me, but it’s definitely an option and there’s less chance of burning yourself.
Add 1 Tbsp of the reserved oil to the skillet over medium heat, slide the inverted tortilla into it, cook for another minute, reduce heat to medium-low and continue to cook for about 5 minutes. If it smells toasty, you can decrease the heat to low and just let it cook slowly toward the end. Slide from the skillet onto a plate or cutting board. Serve warm or at room temperature. If you make this in advance, make sure you bring it to room temperature before serving.