Summer drinks

Have you noticed that the Spaniards drink their beer cold? I mean cold. Not chilled; cold. If you go into a bar, run by people of other nationalities, in Spain, the difference can be noticeable. That idea of crisp, cool and refreshing is one of the reasons why telly adverts associate friends laughing together, eating together, swimming at the beach and drinking beer together with summer. Beer isn't a traditional Spanish drink, it didn't really take off  till the 1970s and it wasn't till 1982 that beer took over from wine as the biggest selling alcoholic drink. 

Spaniards notice when Britons, and other Northern Europeans, put ice in their wine. Odd really considering that Spaniards pour their hot coffee and tea over ice all summer through.

When you're out and about, when it's too late at night to drink beer or wine, and we move on to mixed drinks nearly all of them get ice. When the Spanish mix a copa - spirit and mixer type drinks like rum and coke or vodka and lemon - ice is the order of the day. Sometimes there is so much ice in a gin and tonic, gin tonic in Spanish, that it might cause nasal frostbite. It also serves to disguise a less than generous serving of gin.

Vermouth, wine spiced with a mixture of herbs, is as traditional a drink as wine itself. For vermouth to be vermouth one of the spices it has to contain is wormwood; that's what makes vermouth taste like vermouth. It's more or less analogous to sparkling wines from the Champagne region being champagne and sparkling wine from Norfolk being sparkling wine. The most well known Spanish sparkling wine is cava which comes from specific areas, generally in Cataluña. By the way it's pronounced cavva not carver. Vermouth is so Spanish that it gives the name to a period of the day, just before lunch, la hora del vermut. The red versions usually get a twist of orange, the whites get a twist of lemon, olives too and, of course, an ice cube or two – a splash of soda water, sifón, is optional. Drink vermouth for an immersive cultural experience. 

And let's not to forget anis. It's an aniseed flavoured drink more or less like pastis, raki, ouzo etc. There are a couple of local producers near Pinoso, in Monforte del Cid. Anis comes in sweet and dry versions and a dry anis diluted about four to one with water and with an ice cube added, locally called a paloma, was a very common summer drink. That reminds me that I should get a bottle in.

Sangria always confuses me. So far as I know sangria is a Spanish (and Portuguese) alcoholic drink made from wine, slices of fruit, gaseosa (a sort of fizzy sugary water a bit like the cheap lemonade of my youth) with some sugar and a touch of liqueur (often Spanish brandy). The reason Sangria has me confused is that, certainly in the past, Spaniards hardly ever drank it. They left it to the tourists but, nowadays, you'll often see plastic cups of the stuff, ready prepared and labelled as sangria on market type food stalls. What Spaniards tended to drink, and it is quite similar, is tinto de verano, red summer wine, which is just cheap red wine, gaseosa, ice and, usually, a twist of lemon. In the way that the modern world has of marketing some inferior product masquerading behind a name it's difficult to decide which is which among the industrial ready made mixes that belittle both the original products.

Just before I move off booze a special mention for calimocho. This was the drink of poor young people who wanted to get drunk at one of the outdoor street drinking sessions (park up your car, best if it's got huge speakers, play reggaeton and drink calimocho) called botellones. Obviously this is about as true as Britons wearing socks with their sandals or Germans having no sense of humour. Indeed a Spaniard told me the other day it was their preferred drink! Calimocho proper uses the cheapest wine available, think Don Simon cooking wine in cartons, mixed with Coke - Coca Cola that is. Nowadays, on Friday and Saturday evenings, outside supermarkets, what I see are young people pouring vodka into the big bottles of Fanta instead. 

As well as the iced coffee and tea the other, alcohol free, summer drinks are granizado and horchata. Britons often refer to granizado as Slush Puppy but that's a bit like using the word crab to describe the things that were once called crabsticks. There is a vague similarity. Spanish granizado is made by mixing whatever gives the flavour, usually lemon or coffee, with sugar and water and then cooling and stirring the mixture continuously to give flavoured ice with the consistency of wallpaper paste. There is a significant difference to the Slush Puppy type granizado, where the flavour is added, as a syrup, to granulated ice. Granizado tastes of whatever it tastes of to the last morsel whereas, with the syrup versions, you end up sucking on ice pellets. There is a version that you see from time to time, called agua de cebada which is made from an infusion of barley grains (cebada) strained and sweetened. I haven't seen any for ages.

And last, but not least, horchata. Horchata is associated with the Valencian region and particularly with the town of Alboraya. They sell horchata in supermarkets and in bottles in most bars but you should really buy it in a horchateria or horchata shop - sometimes the ice cream shops do horchata too. There the horchata will be home made. The chufas, we Brits call them tiger nuts, are mixed with water, left to soak, crushed and sieved to produce a thick liquid which is then mixed with water and sugar. Again it gets cooled before serving.

I set out to just name a few summer drinks and, as always, the topic has got away from me. I'm trying to stop here but then I remembered that, as well as the hundreds of other drinks available there are two more local offerings that deserve a mention. One is simple grape juice or mosto. The other is Bitter Kas (Kas is a trademark but the drink is always ordered like that) which tastes like Campari without the booze.

Now I'll go.

Gummy bears and milk

My mum doesn't use a lot of milk. The last time I stayed with her the milk she had in was off - very off, lumpy off. She shamelessly offered me almond or soy milk as a substitute. I was appropriately dismissive.

I did once venture to drink some almond milk. I remember it as a sort of grainy vaguely unpleasantly flavoured thick water. I suspect that Maggie thinks of horchata much the same way. Me, well I drink horchata from time to time but mainly as a sort of solidarity gesture with my adopted homeland.

Horchata is made from the chufa, a sort of edible tuber which we apparently call tiger nut - though I've never known anyone who is clear what a tiger nut is - I think the name just sounds sort of comfortable. The chufa is used to make that greyey milky coloured drink that all Valencianos swear is incredibly thirst quenching when it is served cold.

Apparently chufa grows well in North Africa so the Moorish invaders introduced it into Spain when they set up home here for seven centuries or so from the 8th Century. Muslims, and the Moors were Muslims, stay away from the booze and one of their options was the chufa "milk" which is the basis of modern horchata.

All over the Valencian region there are horchaterias, horchata shops. I presume, though I've never thought about it for too long, that each one produces its own version of horchata from the dried tubers. Apparently the nuts are re-hydrated, crushed and sieved to produce a thick liquid which is then mixed with sugar and water to produce the traditional horchata. There are also bottled versions which may be pasteurised, sterilised or given the UHT treatment. Purists say that none of the bottled varieties are as good as the freshly made product. There is even an august body to give the horchata "denominación de origen", the quality mark, to say that it is produced in such and such a way to such and such a standard and so, presumably, to maintain what is considered to be the authentic taste. Like all this traditional food and drink there are recognised centres of excellence and, in the case of horchata, that's the unremarkable town of Alboraya, Alboraia (in Valencian), just outside Valencia city. The area around Alboraia has field after field planted with chufas and people go to the town to drink the horchata "fresh from the fields". Nowadays of course, when anything can be marketed, the local entrepreneurs produce chufa biscuits, chufa flavoured ali oli (a sort of flavoured mayonnaise), chufa chocolate, chufa beer and so on for their foodie tourists.

Yesterday my planning was better than usual. I bought some cheap sweets at the supermarket to take to the cinema later in the day. So far as I could see the 59 cent bag of sweets had no positive nutritional value being coloured and flavoured sugars coated with sugar. I would have a lot of trouble defending my continued consumption of similar products but the bag proudly announced that the sweets contained no fat - that must be good then. Looking for information on horchata I came across a puff piece that described the chufa like this "The chufa is often spoken about as a super-food. The Oxford English Dictionary calls it a nutrient-rich food that is considered especially beneficial to health and well-being. The nutrient-rich tiger nut helps with digestion, it protects the heart, it is an anti-oxidant, it stimulates the immune system, it works as an antacid, and it contains no lactose or gluten. It also plays a leading role in cholesterol control, as its high level of oleic acid (77%) is similar to olive oil."

Whatever its qualities I still don't want horchata, or even chufa milk, in my tea the next time I'm in the UK thanks mum.