Sluttishly Savoury: Chorizo in Red Wine

Spain in a bowl (Flamenco dancers just out of shot)

Or Chorizo al Vino Tinto, if you prefer.

I do, although I try my best to say it with my normal Scottish accent and not go all choreeetho al beeeno teeento on everybody, while gesticulating wildly, stamping my foot, shouting olé and suspiciously eyeing a bull in the cooked meats aisle of Tesco. Because no-one likes a show-off, and we’re not in Spain now, chicas*.

<RIDICULOUS NATIONAL STEREOTYPING ENDS>

For inexplicable reasons, a couple of years ago I decided to start studying for another degree. (The other one is in Drawing and Painting. I know. USEFUL.) This time, I am attempting to study French, Spanish and Linguistics while holding down a full-time job. I think ‘idiotic fool-girl twit’ is the phrase you’re grappling for, readers.

Anyway, I’ve just had two weeks of pure, unadulterated hell, writing many thousands of words in Spanish AND doing a speaking exam. So that was traumatic. But it’s over now, and I’ve had enough of difficult Spanish. I want quick and easy Spanish. I want chorizo in red wine.

This isn’t so much a recipe as a happy flavour party in a pan. It’s so simple, so delicious, so cheap – I’m surprised I eat anything else.

Silly Spanish sausages, simmering

Chorizo In Red Wine (serves 2 hungry greedy people)

You'll need:

• 1 ring of chorizo, skin removed and sliced into discs
• 1 small onion or shallot, roughly chopped
• 3 or 4 cloves of garlic (depending on your garlic tolerance!), finely chopped
• 1 red pepper, roughly chopped
• 1/2 a bottle of red wine (cheapo plonk does the trick here)
• 2 dried bay leaves
• 1/2 a chilli, deseeded and finely chopped
• A good glug of olive oil
• Salt and pepper to taste
• A few sprigs of flat leaf parsley, cack-handedly snipped up with scissors at the last moment

Make it!

1. Heat the oil in a frying pan, and add half the onion/shallot and half the red pepper. Fry until soft.
2. Add about a clove's worth of chopped garlic and KEEP STIRRING. Do not let the garlic burn. That would be very grave indeed.
3. Throw in the chorizo and let it sizzle away for a couple of minutes. Stir in the rest of the onion, pepper, garlic, and the chopped chilli. Fry until the chorizo is just starting to turn a little bit crispy and golden at the very edges.
4. Pour off any excess oil, trying not to lose any of the garlicky goodness from the bottom of the pan. (A little oil should be left behind.)
5. Put the pan back on the heat and pour in the wine. Drink the rest of the wine.
6. Chuck in the bay leaves, then turn down the heat and let everything simmer until the wine has been reduced. 
7. Add salt and pepper to taste. Remove the bay leaves, and add some chopped parsley (the eagle-eyed among you will see from the photo that I forgot to add mine).
8. Serve with salad and crusty bread.

Tips

• Don’t like red wine? Never fear – this can be made with white wine (Chorizo al Vino Blanco), cider (Chorizo a la Sidra), or with sherry (Chorizo al Jerez). Just substitute your chosen booze into the recipe above.
• You can use those supercute little mini chorizos if you prefer. 
• This makes an excellent risotto flavouring – just follow steps 1-4 above, don’t throw away the excess oil but instead add some risotto rice to it. Stir, stir, stir until it’s all coated in oil, and then chuck in a glug of wine. Simmer for a couple of minutes, then start adding a ladle of hot chicken stock at a time, waiting until each one has been absorbed before sploshing in the next. Do a lot of stirring. When your risotto is looking plump, it’s done. Yum. 
• Write bay leaves on your shopping list now. Everyone always forgets the bay leaves. 

¡Que aproveche!

*Oh, all right, so if you actually ARE in Spain, you’re allowed to do all these things. WITH ABANDON.