Since my visit to Asturias, Spain, last October, I’ve been dreaming about a rustic chicken dish I was served there. I was visiting for the natural paradise that is Asturias, with hiking, climbing, horseback riding, kayaking, even coal mining on my itinerary. But all that exercise led me to explore the fantastic kitchens of the region too.

Since that Asturian trip I’ve researched recipes for Pitu Caleya only to learn that, as is so typical of true rustic dishes, each household has its own way of making it! The version I was served was a rice-centric dish with all the flavors of chicken but no big pieces. The recipes I found online were more formal, featuring chicken pieces and rice ranging from a risotto consistency to a crusted paella style. Below I combined the best recipes to deliver the great chicken flavor I remembered with a rice somewhere between the two. I’ve made it several times now and really like the fragrance, texture, and taste. I even included a shortcut so the dish can be made in one day if you are short on time.

A note about the spelling: Pitu caleya is the Spanish version. Pitu Calella is the Asturian version, with the double “ll”s pronounced as “l”, not as a “y” in Spanish.

Pitu Caleya – Asturian Chicken “Paella”

Ingredients – serves four (with the best leftovers!) to eight

• 4 each chicken drumsticks and thighs, (eight pieces) bone-in, skin-on
• Marinade:
  • 3 tbsp salt
  • 1 ½ tbsp sugar
  • freshly ground pepper to taste
  • 4 tbsp vegetable oil – more as needed
• Braise:
  • 10 sprigs thyme
  • 1 garlic head, cut in half
  • 2 bay leaves
  • 2 cups whole apple cider
  • 2 cups Sidra (Spanish cider) Preferably Trabanco, but in the US Angry Orchard would do.
  • 2 cups chicken stock or broth as needed in braise or paella
• Paella:
  • 5 tbsp butter (or more as needed)
  • ½ cup flour
  • extra chicken stock or broth
  • 1 medium onion diced
  • 1 medium carrot diced
  • 1 medium red pepper diced
  • ¾ cup Calasparra rice
  • ¼ tsp crushed red pepper
  • 1 tsp salt
  • mixed chopped fresh herbs (parsley, chervil, chives) to garnish

Instructions

• Stir the salt, black pepper, and sugar in the oil until sugar dissolves, then drizzle over the chicken legs and thighs in a zipper plastic bag and rub chicken through sides of the bag to fully moisten and refrigerate from six hours to overnight. (Alternately, rub the marinade on the chicken and proceed to the next step.)
• Remove chicken from the refrigerator. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Place the chicken skin side up in a 9×12 baking pan, add thyme, garlic, and bay leaves, pour in the cider and sidra, (the liquid should be halfway up the chicken – if not, add enough chicken stock to get there) and braise in the oven uncovered for about 1 -1 ½ hours. The chicken should be tender, golden and caramelized on top and the liquid should have reduced by about half. Allow to cool enough to handle. 
• Remove the meat (skin attached) from the chicken drumsticks in pieces while keeping the thigh intact as you remove the bone.Set aside the thighs and garlic, strain and defat the liquid, mashing the roasted garlic back into the strained braising liquid. Reserve liquid and set aside the bones for your next stock.
• In a large sauté pan or paella pan brown the butter. Toss the pieces of chicken leg meat and skin (not the intact thighs) in a plastic bag with the flour and the remaining salt and add to the brown butter. Cook until the chicken becomes golden brown and crispy. Remove to a plate and keep warm.
• Then add the chopped onion, carrot, and both diced and dried red peppers and saute’ until soft, 3-4 minutes, adding more butter as needed. Return the chicken legs to the pan. Add the rice, stirring to moisten, followed in a minute by the remaining braising liquid from the chicken and, if needed, enough extra stock to make 4 cups.
• Cook over medium heat until the rice absorbs most of the liquid, stir, trying not to disturb the bottom layer of rice as it begins to stick to the pan – about 30 minutes. Taste the rice and adjust for seasoning, especially salt. Preheat the oven to 350.
• Arrange the reserved chicken thighs (halved if serving eight) on top of the cooked rice in the pan and finish cooking in the oven for ten minutes. Garnish with chopped herbs and set on the table. Serve on warm plates each with a thigh on top of the rice. Pass a salad.

Unfortunately, I was unable to get chef Noé Alvarez’s recipe for pitu caleya, of Castillo Del Alba Hotel, but this slightly fancier substitute will still deliver the delicious flavor while being true to the traditional regional specialty. I hope you enjoy it!

Note on accommodations: In the old quarter of Aviles, my hotel, the Palacio de Aviles, is a converted palace with centuries of history and beautiful, formal gardens to relax in. From there it was an easy walk or short drive for the culinary adventures described above. All but Pitu Caleya. I stayed at the Castillo Del Alba Hotel for that meal.

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Every day I found myself in the mountains, seeing things no guidebook mentioned.

Photographs by Richard Frisbie

The clouds of Asturias roll in over the rocky shore from the Cantabrian Sea like fog, filling the valleys and cascading over the low hills to butt against the spikey ridgelines of the Pico de Europa mountains in the interior, causing them to look like islands in an inland cotton sea. We drove to this view early one morning on a winding mountain road, the only traffic a herd of cows coming down from their summer pasture, nonplussed by our presence, yet they skitter by, their cowbells echoing the change of seasons through the valleys long after they pass.

We are following Jose Andres’ guide to experiencing Asturias. The world-renowned humanitarian and chef was born here and returns as often as possible to replenish his soul in the stark mountains, lush valleys, and rugged coastline of his family home. He said to truly learn the heart of my country “begin your day in the mountains with the sunrise”. And so we did.

Breaking through the clouds as we continued to climb this serpentine road, more a switch-back narrow track than a bonified highway, we stopped at an overlook with a view on clear days far down through the valleys and out to sea. Today, with the sound of the cowbells still reverberating in the hills, the spires of the Basilica of Covadonga were all that was visible poking through the mists below, while the horizontal light of sunrise gilded the mountaintops above as they pierced the impossibly blue sky.

We drove on, upward through the sentinel peaks to look down into the branas, or high valley pasture where the cows had summered, the golden ridges reflected in the mirror waters of two pristine lakes, Enol and Ercina. This is a popular destination in the Pico de Europa National Park, already busy with the early-risers, and soon to be busier with busloads expected to crowd this verdant valley until its serenity is broken, only to be refreshed overnight and readied for a new dawn and the onslaught to return.

There are day hikes, limited overnight camping and only one small lodge to hike in to, so it is a daytrip to be enjoyed at dawn and dusk, and possibly for moonlight stargazing, when the crowds are thinnest. We left before the sublime beauty was crushed under the arriving busses.

The rising sun’s rays washed down the valley walls pushing the clouds lower, until as we descended, we could see the huge basilica emerge beneath its spires. Nearby a tiny church was tucked into a grotto above a cascading waterfall that filled the pool below.

This achingly picturesque spot is where one legend tells us that the Virgin Mary appeared to Palacio (Palayo) leader of the Spanish forces, and handed him a cross, telling him that if he carried her cross into battle against the Moors, Spain would be Christian. Another, more likely scenario, has him praying for victory to a statue of the virgin he found hidden in the cave while lying in wait for the Moors. Asturias was Spain’s last holdout against the advancing Moorish army, with Palacio’s victory marking the beginning of a surge, called the Reconquista, that eventually drove the Moors out of Spain.

Of course, defeating a force that was so entrenched in Spain does not remove its many influences. The further south you travel in Spain the more pronounced are the architectural and culinary remains of the North African culture. (The Alhambra and sherry immediately come to mind.) And even in Asturias the occasional Moorish arch in a window reminds us of the pervasiveness of their influence.

The beauty of our surroundings dulled these thoughts of conquest as we continued to a distant branas unknown to tourists, ironically called Las Vegas del Toro because it was once the home of the bull that serviced the local herds. This is where the last of the shepherds still minds his flock of sheep. Following a rutted, 4×4 dirt track miles off road, past a tiny village, we entered a pristine green valley surrounded by barren mountain peaks.

Here we found a cluster of ancient stone buildings, their red tile roofs held in place against the wind with stones the glaciers dropped when they receded millennium ago. That is, the roofs that hadn’t collapsed already. There is a sad state of disrepair and dereliction evident in the mountain beauty.

This was once a community of twenty or so shepherds, each minding his flock in these summer pastures. By day the sheep roamed the valley and surrounding slopes, guided by the sheepdogs and their master, the gentle ringing of their bells reminiscent of a Tibetan Bowl ceremony in the quiet high-altitude serenity. At dusk the sheep were herded into a paddock that led to a cave for shelter and protection from inclement weather and the ever-present wolves.

The lead dog, a large mastiff fitted with a spiked collar to shield his throat from wolf attack, remained with the flock overnight while the shepherd rested in his stone hut or made his way back to the village. His is a solitary life made more so because he is the last of his kind in the valley. When he is gone, more than just the shepherd and a way of life will be lost.

The delicate ecological balance of the valley’s environment will be disrupted, the plants the sheep no longer eat will flourish, choking out the grasses and wildflowers as they overrun the valley. But for now, the sound of the sheep’s bells persists, soothing in the pure mountain air.

Leaving the shepherd and his flock far behind, we soon found ourselves on a small back road, one that climbed through forests in a national preserve for Spain’s endangered brown bear, past tiny villages of 20 to 30 stone houses clinging to the steep hillsides. We were here to explore another fast-disappearing way of country life: teitos, or thatched roof cottages.

Accompanied by the sounds of a mountain stream tumbling down through the steep valley below, and ever on the look-out for bears, we hiked into La Brana Campa (place where shepherds stay) in Saliencia Valley to find three thatch-roofed stone houses, really cow houses, nestled in obscurity. Centuries old, these houses are where the cows were wintered over once they came down from summer’s high pasture.

Each has a small field for the six or so cows they hold, and the surrounding slopes are thick with broom, the plant used to thatch the roofs. The earthen ground floor houses the cows; the loft above holds the hay to feed them when there is more than a dusting of snow on their pasture. The men hike in and out from the small villages nearby to care for their herd as needed, sometimes staying overnight in the haylofts if bad weather persists, the body heat from the cows keeping them warm.

Originally, teitos were more than cow houses. In one tiny village nearby is a museum dedicated to teitos as houses for people, too. Ecomuseo de Somiedo Las Casas de Teito de Escobe is a cluster of three houses. One was being renovated so we could not visit it. Another, called Casa Rosa, was the more prosperous residence, built on a hillside with an attached kitchen, and the area above the cow pen a one room living quarters, with hay for the animals in the loft above it. This one even had an oven with a rounded back stonewall built off the kitchen, with room for pigs to sleep beneath.

The kitchen also had a typical open fire in the floor with seating around it and no opening for the smoke to be released. The only opening was the door, which was used to go outside to climb stairs to the living quarters. Everything in the kitchen was black with ancient soot. Sitting around the fire while working was called filandox, and it is where knitting and other group activities took place.

The third teitos, Casa Flora, was the poorer residence. The cows had a stall to the right as you entered. The rest was an “L” shaped room with a kitchen similar to Casa Rosa, but without the oven, with a bed in the alcove. In each, plumbing was nonexistent, nor were there outhouses. The compost pile in the kitchen garden served that purpose, your bodily functions on display as all aspects of life are in a small village. People lived in this house until 1954, when the road came through that connected all the isolated villages. Before that, people could be born, live, and die without ever leaving.

This way of life is being preserved somewhat, as the teitos are registered and numbered as historic landmarks. But of the three we saw at La Brana Campa, one’s roof beam had broken, the thatch folding into the center, one had a blue tarp over a presumably damaged roof, and only the last was intact. It was numbered #224, while Casa Flores and Casa Rosa in the museum complex were #32 and #33 respectively. Less than 300 teitos exist today. As the people who use them pass, more will decline. We were extremely fortunate to see these ties to past traditions that have survived. But I have to wonder how long they will last.

And that’s why I travel; to see the history and culture of a region. To feel the beating heart of the rural countryside and see the agricultural history of a place means so much more to me then all the cathedrals and Roman ruins combined. And, of course, there is always the food and wine to taste and experience. But that is another story.

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