Five rules, zero deep frying, and a $199 lesson

TRAVEL INSPIRES YOU.

Even when you’re turning to stone, staring at your computer, wondering if you’ll ever feel anything again. Close the laptop. Go for a walkabout. It may not be the exact equivalent of strolling the winding alleys of Lisbon, but you’ll come back to your desk with a new lease on life and primed to at least finish the day.

I am always vehemently inspired to recreate the food I eat on a trip — knowing full well that my version will be Americanized, adapted, in any way that I see fit. Read: not authentic.

Naturally, tapas was my food muse after my romp in Spain. (We will get into seafood this summer, don’t you worry.)

LET’S HAVE A TAPAS PARTY.

Or more accurately: let’s live how the Spanish live normally — small shared plates eaten outside with friends on a casual weekday evening. Tapas culture isn’t a special occasion thing. In Spain, it’s just Tuesday.

Here are the 5 things you need to pull this off.

TAPAS PARTY RULE #1: THE MENU (duh)

Tapas is about variety. A little of this, a little of that — meant for sharing, meant for grazing. One or two bites per person and move it along, Betty. The balance matters: meats, carbs, vegetables, something crunchy, something cheesy, and always a dip. You don’t want a table of only meats. (Meat party is a different newsletter.)

Let the tapas begin!

A couple of my favorites that we had on repeat were to no ones suprise Manchego cheese and Jamón Iberico, a love story.

Manchego ✔️ A cheese made from sheep milk. Firm, buttery, and slightly salty. Absolutely essential.

Jamón Ibérico, a love story, comes from black Iberian pigs that are allowed to roam free and forage for acorns in the wild, which is what gives the fat its out-of-this-world, nutty flavor. It’s cured on the bone for anywhere from 2 to 4 years and carved tableside directly into your mouth. The color is so red it is maroon and quite literally melts in your mouth. In the States, Jamón Ibérico is $199 per pound. I won’t even say what the cost was in Spain; we will all be packing our bags to fulfill our love story. (Pause for life reflection.)

I opted for Serrano — a cured ham from white pigs, similar to Italian prosciutto. Less transcendent than Ibérico, but still deeply flavorful and absolutely nothing to turn your nose up at. My friends didn’t know the difference. (They didn’t need to.)

I am resisting every urge to over-style the cheese. Simple and beautiful is the vibe here, the way it was presented in Spain. (This is me suppressing my American instinct that more is always better.)

MARINATED OLIVES 💚

The easiest and most satisfying nibble at any table. The only caveat: your guests must love olives.

Throw olives, garlic, lemon peel, a few sprigs of thyme, and a couple of glugs of Spanish olive oil into a small pot and gently warm through. Serving your olives warm is a boss move and elevates them completely. Do it!

MARINATED MUSHROOMS

Also on our table frequently — sometimes ordered, sometimes appearing out of thin air. (You often get a free tapa with every round of drinks.) Life is really about the little things.

Marinated mushrooms are the most underrated way to eat a mushroom. The texture is robust and tender, and they absorb whatever you soak them in. I went: sherry vinegar, olive oil, shallot, and thyme. Give them a toothpick or a fat Buddha pick (bean not included) and let them knock out.

TINNED SARDINES

A curveball. I bought this tin in Portugal, but it fits the tapas vibe completely.

Portugal is one of the oldest tinned fish cultures in the world, and some tins are literally vintage-dated like wine, meant to be aged for years before eating. The good tins are a delicacy.

The great thing about tinned fish is that they are ready to rock. Zero prep. Serve with crusty bread and cross all your fingers that your guests are courageous enough to give them a whirl. If there is a sardine to try, it is one straight from the source.

ALMONDS

You don’t know what you’re missing in the nut department until you’ve had one just miles from the source. The first time I truly loved an almond was at a winery in California — local, fresh, almost juicy. I brought a bag home from Spain, and they tasted like you were roaming the Spanish countryside in a floral dress with a glass of Vinho Verde in your hand, with not a care in the world. Just nuts. Just really good nuts.

GARLIC SHRIMP

I wanted one dish with real substance, something that would actually fill us up. Garlic shrimp was on nearly every menu, and I thoroughly enjoyed mine every single time. Plump, juicy, garlicky, and swimming in olive oil. They sizzle up fast, they smell incredible, and shrimp juice will absolutely get on your shirt.

FURIKAKE CUCUMBERS WITH SESAME MAYO

A surprising late-night discovery after a city wander led us to a cocktail bar. The cucumbers are cut into spears, sprinkled with frikake (seaweed, sesame seeds, and salt mixture), and served with sesame mayo. Simple, refreshing, and somehow unforgettable. I am unclear if it is just the mayo talking. I’m making a vat of it and will report back.

CROQUETTES

Croquettes are always a solid choice. In fact, they are non-negotiable. Traditionally, Spanish croquettes have a bechamel base that’s chilled until firm, breaded, and fried to a crispy shell, creating a creamy molten lava center. The filling could be jamón, bacalao (salted cod), or, one time, it was just labeled as “meat” with no further explanation, which I ordered and had zero regrets.

My initial instinct was a hard no on deep frying at home. Then I started to soften when I found the idea for leek croquettes. The leek croquettes turned out wonderfully, and they might just be the weekend kitchen project you didn’t know you needed.

A FEW HONORABLE MENTIONS I’M NOT MAKING

Patatas bravas (fried potatoes with smoky, spicy sauce), pimientos de padrón (like shishito peppers — blistered, lots of flaky salt, grilled artichokes with crispy ham, bacalao in every conceivable form, and the Spanish tortilla — which is not a Mexican tortilla, but a thick egg-and-potato omelet that takes patience, skill, and a confidence I do not currently have. One day.

I am but one woman. Restraint had to be taken.

BREAD

But of course, a nice crusty sourdough to keep us all fat and giggly.

And you can’t have bread without butter. This is Butter Cult after all! A beautiful butter sprinkled with Portuguese salt. Or perhaps something more fun…

TAPAS PARTY RULE #2: EAT OUTSIDE

Non-negotiable. It doesn’t have to be a plaza. A backyard, a patio, a blanket in a park, the landing strip of grass outside your building, work with what you’ve got. The outside air is 40% of the vibe.

TAPAS PARTY RULE #3: BEVERAGES

Go easy on yourself. Pass this task to a guest if they ask what to bring. Sparkling water is fine. A bottle of wine is great. A bitters and soda is peak Spanish living. A pitcher of sangria — only if you made it yesterday and it did not stress you out.

TAPAS PARTY RULE #4: PRE-PARTY EXCITEMENT

Send a light, tantalizing reminder text. Give them a sneak peek. Get them excited enough to choose your patio over an early bedtime and a bubble bath. Is it gentle manipulation? Yes. Will they regret showing up? Absolutely not.

TAPAS PARTY RULE #5: EDIT YOUR MENU

Big ambitions are great. But put a star next to two items that can be cut if you run out of time, energy, or the general will to live. Give yourself grace. Keep it fun.

THE MENU:

🫒Marinated Olives w/thyme, lemon, garlic & smoked paprika

🐟Sardines in Lemon Oil

🧀Manchego Cheese w/flatbread crackers

🍄Sherry & Thyme Marinated Mushrooms

🐷Serrano Ham

🥒Frikake Cucumbers w/sesame mayo

🌰Spanish Almonds

🌿Leek Croquettes w/garlic aioli mustard

🧅Pickled Red Onions

🫜Radishes & Butter w/Portugese Salt

🥖Sourdough Bread

🧈French Butter, cause why the hell not

The patio party was a huge success, and the menu deserves most of the credit. Well-curated, wide variety, and more approachable than the length of it suggests. A lot of these are just buy and dish. I made everything from scratch, but you could absolutely buy half of it pre-made. No shame in that game. Make it easy enough that you keep wanting to do it again.

We need to have a heart-to-heart about the leek croquettes. They turned out WAY better than expected. A crunched exterior that housed the delicate lemon and thyme béchamel with sauteed leeks, served with a garlic mustard aioli. This recipe is worth exploring…Croquette deep dive coming next week, and you don’t even have to deep fry!

Cheers,

Nicole | Butter Cult