Tawa Paella
Early winter doesn’t seem like the ideal time to try ones hand at outdoor cooking. Nonetheless I could not refrain from embarking on a new culinary adventure.
We could see our breath.
The little girls, unphased by the temperature, bundled into coats and gloves. With fanny packs stuffed with colored pencils, they sat on the back porch steps, sketching the ridiculous scene as though I was a caterpillar in their nature journals. They cheered for me and delight in the cold weather spectacle.
As the sofrito sizzled in the tawa, a very old feeling came over me. The same one I sense when I’m kneading bread dough.
I was engaging in an old art.
One many women before me had participated and perfected.
Before dinner was done, I had already began scheming when I could cook in such as manner again.
Our neighbors and dear friends were kind enough to lend the hammered iron pan the size of vehicle tire. The story behind its arrival to our cul-de-sac in the States began with a determined father who miraculously manage to fit the pan in a suitcase. When asked by airport security why he was only bringing a single item from Kenya, he simply said, it’s a cooking pan, you know, for my son.
Upon looking at the tawa, I could understand the sentiment. Every spot a hammer struck it was visible yet it is smooth and well oiled. The rough hewned rim exposes an even thickness; giving it a rustic aesthetic. I could immediate see why it needed personal escorting across the globe.
It’s completely gorgeous.
Strong wind kept extinguishing the outdoor gas fire when they host our family over the summer to demonstrate the tawa. We moved indoors while I interrogated, taste-test, and awed over my friend while she prepared spicy Indian shrimp over four stovetop burners.
I could hardly trust myself to use it without supervision. Although, I may never have to honor of owning one, I am thankful for friends who will let me borrow such precious kitchen heirlooms.
Anxious to try the method myself, I was certain I could cook paella on it. Before I offered to make it for a crowd, I asked if I could bring the equipment home someday for trial and error tests first.
Chalked full of chorizo and scallops, I stood with chattering teeth and an enormous grin. I hovered close to the propane flames astonished to finally cook outdoors! A culinary first! Now, I’m hooked.