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CAMPBELL'S SCOOP

Celebrate paella on National Paella Day (today)!

Polly Campbell
pcampbell@enquirer.com
Paella Campesina with chicken, pork, garbanzos and rice.

Today is National Spanish Paella Day, if you keep track of such things. Make yourself a big pan at home, or book a flight to Valencia. Or just think about how delicious it is. Note that Friday night is paella night at Abigail Street in Over-the-Rhine.

Hector Esteve makes paella in the style of his native Puerto Rico, but that's pretty close to Spanish paella.

This story about his business making paella for parties was first published June 24, 2009. Paella at Your Place is still in business; Esteve has added a variety of types of paella to his offerings.

Performance takes place in a single pan

By Polly Campbell

pcampbell@enquirer.com

"Paella is all about the rice. Everything else in it is just nice extras." That's the most important thing that Hector Esteve, the paella man, tells me as I watch him make a seafood paella (pie-AY-yah) for a party. "The rice should shine."

I'm not sure I understand – after all, the rather elaborate dish he's making includes chicken breasts, squid, shrimp and mussels, and is decorated with peas and red pepper strips. Not that I'm doubting him – Esteve knows what he's talking about when it comes to paella. He grew up with this Spanish dish that is also an important part of the cuisine of his native Puerto Rico. He knows it so well that he's made a profession of it as owner of Paella at your Place, a catering company with just one specialty.

But really? All this fuss is just about rice? I hope by the time I watch him make a paella start to finish I will understand. So I've asked to come to this party at Lorri and Steve Manning's house in Blue Ash with a group of their friends, and they've graciously invited me. It's Steve's birthday, and he's a paella fan since the years he lived in Miami.

"Originally, paella was made outside over an open fire," says Esteve as he sets up on the back deck. He puts up a stand that holds his two concentric propane burners. This configuration is necessary because paella is made in a very wide pan, up to 36 inches across, which takes three rings of flame. For paella, rice has to cook in a thin layer. "Purists say it should be ½-inch deep at the most," Esteve says.

He starts by pouring olive oil in the pan. He tosses a few shrimp in for flavor, then takes them out. He adds sofrito, the basic building block of Spanish cooking: onions, peppers, garlic – his also has olives. Some spices and paprika, a saffron substitute for coloring.

"Puerto Rico was under Spanish rule for 400 years," Esteve says, "so we've taken on that cultural tradition. It's always been popular to make this dish outside at family parties."

Because it traditionally involves a fire, paella is considered man's work. His father wasn't a paella maker, but he learned from his grandfather.

Everywhere, in Spain and in Puerto Rico, the proper technique for paella making is much debated, as well as the hotly contested question of what should go in it. "The first time I made this for my wife's family, they had a lot to say about how I cooked it," Esteve says. His techniques, especially his three-meat paella, owe much to his wife's uncle, Pedro Bernundez. "I thank him by always taking some Kentucky bourbon when we visit."

A can of tomatoes goes in, and then the rice. He uses a medium-grained rice, almost pearl-like "This is the best because it absorbs a lot of liquid without splitting." He spreads it over the pan and adds clam stock. And then he lets it sit, bubbling quite briskly.

The party guests have gathered around the operation to watch. Ginnie Donovan is itching to stir. "No, you don't stir it," cautions Esteve. "That makes it mushy. You know what it's called then? Jambalaya."

Esteve is making this process look like an easy improvisation. But that's because he has practice. He started making paella for parties about four years ago, while working in quality control at a biotech firm. In September of last year, he left his job to do paella full time. Now he's catering several parties every weekend. His wife, Frances, takes some of the jobs, and he's trained a friend to do them as well.

The rice is bubbling furiously, the bright yellow spices mixing with tomato and rice to mellow to a warm golden color. Finally, Esteve touches the rice with his spoon, but just enough to scrape some rice over a few grains that aren't absorbing moisture. The paella pan is too big for a lid, but he distributes mussels and shrimp on the top, then covers the pan with aluminum foil to let it steam and open the mussels. He dresses a salad, puts out rolls, and then brings in the great, gorgeous dish of rice with a mosaic of seafood, peppers and peas paving the top. He serves it to waiting plates. This is a casual, participatory way to entertain.

And now I see, and taste, what he means about the rice. It's gently spicy, but richly flavored with the stock and the sofrito. Each grain is distinct and plump, tender enough to bite, but with enough texture to just resist the tooth. The rice from the bottom has a touch of brown crust . The shrimp, chicken, squid and mussels are certainly tasty, but it's the rice that's making me want to try this again.