Souschef AI

Global Kitchen

AI

Spanish · snack

Croquetas de Sepia con Tinta: Spain's Jet-Black Squid Ink Croquettes

#spanish#basque#tapas#pintxos#seafood

90m

Total time

4

Servings

kcal

hard

Difficulty

Jul 8, 2026

INGREDIENTS.

4
Seafood
  • 400 g sepia (cuttlefish), cleaned
  • 2 sachets (approx 8g total) cuttlefish or squid ink sachets
Produce
  • 200 g onion, very finely diced
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
Pantry
  • 2 tbsp olive oil (for sofrito)
  • 120 g plain flour (all-purpose)
  • 80 ml white wine or dry txakoli
  • 1 tsp fine salt
  • 200 g panko breadcrumbs
  • 80 g plain flour (for breading)
  • 1 litre neutral frying oil (sunflower or light olive)
Dairy
  • 60 g unsalted butter
  • 500 ml whole milk, warmed
  • 3 large eggs (for breading)
Spice
  • 0.5 tsp white pepper

THE METHOD.

tap to check off

0/11 done

Related · You might also cook

Keep going.

Ensalada Rusa Española: Spain's Essential Tuna Potato Salad
spanisheasy

Ensalada Rusa Española: Spain's Essential Tuna Potato Salad

Walk into any tapas bar in Spain — Madrid, Seville, Barcelona — and you will almost certainly find a small earthenware dish of ensaladilla rusa waiting on the counter. Creamy, set, scoopable, and deeply savory, it is one of those dishes that looks deceptively simple and rewards anyone who makes it properly at home. The name means 'little Russian salad,' a nod to the Olivier salad created in 1860s Moscow that eventually reached Spain and was quietly transformed. The extravagant game meats and seafood of the Russian original gave way to pantry staples, and canned tuna — one of Spain's most beloved ingredients — became the defining feature. What emerged is a dish distinctly Spanish in character: generous with mayonnaise, deeply flavored with good olive oil tuna, and built for the table, not the fridge door. The keys to getting it right: cook the vegetables separately so nothing is over- or underdone, let everything go fully cold before the mayo goes in, cut everything to a uniform small dice so each forkful carries all the flavors, and — critically — give it time. A few hours minimum, overnight if you can. The patience pays off in a salad that tastes like it came from a real tapas kitchen.

45 min 6
Read
Boquerones en Aceite con Olivas — Acid-Cured Anchovies the Right Way
spanisheasy

Boquerones en Aceite con Olivas — Acid-Cured Anchovies the Right Way

Boquerones en aceite con olivas is one of the great simplest things in Spanish food — fresh anchovies acid-cured in vinegar, then drained, dried, and dressed in good olive oil with raw garlic, flat-leaf parsley, and green olives alongside. It is quintessentially Andalusian, rooted in the coastal markets of Málaga where European anchovies are caught fresh in spring and summer and have been cured this way long before refrigeration existed. A word on what you are making: this is not raw fish. The vinegar denatures the proteins completely — turning the flesh white and opaque, just as heat would — through a process called acid denaturation. The result occupies its own sensory space: firmer than sashimi, softer than heat-cooked fish, clean and briny and bright rather than fishy. It has absolutely nothing to do with the brown, salt-cured anchovies in a tin. Two things make or break this dish. First, food safety: fresh anchovies must be frozen at −20°C / −4°F for at least 24 hours before you cure them. This eliminates anisakis, a parasitic worm found in wild anchovies that survives acid-curing. This is not optional, and it is not covered by refrigerating the fish overnight. Commercially frozen anchovies (most of what you will find outside coastal Spain) are already frozen to the required temperature; confirm with your fishmonger if buying something labeled 'fresh.' Second, the olive oil: after the vinegar is washed away, the fillets absorb the dressing directly. A mediocre oil will dominate the delicate fish. Use the best Spanish extra virgin olive oil you can find. Active prep is about 30 minutes. Then the fillets cure unattended in the refrigerator for 2 to 4 hours. The dish can be made the morning of and held in its olive oil dressing, covered, in the refrigerator until you are ready to serve.

30 min 4
Read
Mojo Picón Canario — The Canary Islands' Fiery Red Sauce
spanisheasy

Mojo Picón Canario — The Canary Islands' Fiery Red Sauce

Mojo picón is the sauce that defines the Canary Islands — a table condiment so essential that no plate of papas arrugadas (wrinkly brine-boiled potatoes) appears without it, and no Canarian cook would let a guest leave without a jar. It's smoky, garlicky, bracingly acidic, and built from a handful of pantry staples that collide in a blender and emerge tasting like something far more complex than their combined ingredients suggest. The Canary Islands sit off the northwest coast of Africa, closer geographically to Morocco than to Madrid, and their cuisine reflects centuries of Portuguese, African, and pre-colonial Guanche influence alongside Spanish culinary traditions. The word 'mojo' itself derives from the Portuguese 'molho' (sauce), a reminder that these islands served as a crucial waystation between Europe, Africa, and the Americas during the Age of Exploration. Two classic mojos rule every Canarian table: mojo rojo (red, this one) and mojo verde (green, made with cilantro or parsley). Picón specifically indicates the spicier, more fire-forward red variety. What makes this recipe special — and what often surprises first-time makers — is the piece of stale bread blended into the sauce. This is not a filler trick: the bread, briefly soaked and squeezed, acts as an emulsifier that gives mojo picón its signature thick, spreadable body. Without it, you get a thin vinaigrette; with it, you get a sauce that clings to a potato, coats a piece of grilled fish, or holds its shape on a slice of goat cheese. If you can find dried ñora peppers or the near-mythical pimienta palmera from La Palma island, use them. Dried ancho or guajillo are solid substitutes. Do not reach for bell peppers — they lack the depth.

15 min 6
Read
Cazuela de Esparragos Trigueros — Andalusian Wild Asparagus with Poached Eggs
spanisheasy

Cazuela de Esparragos Trigueros — Andalusian Wild Asparagus with Poached Eggs

Cazuela de Esparragos Trigueros is one of those deeply seasonal Andalusian dishes that feels like spring itself. Every March through May, the roadside verges and irrigation ditches of Cadiz, Sevilla, and Cordoba sprout thin, intensely bitter esparragos trigueros — wild asparagus that the locals have been foraging and cooking for centuries. The technique belongs to the esparragado family: vegetables cooked in olive oil with a garlic-bread-paprika picada whose roots trace back to Al-Andalus and the Moorish cooks who brought cumin and smoked spices into the southern Spanish kitchen. The picada is the heart of everything. Garlic cloves and a slice of stale bread are fried in olive oil until golden, then pounded in a mortar with pimenton de la Vera, cumin seeds, and a splash of sherry vinegar — producing a rough, fragrant paste that thickens the sauce without flour, cream, or cornstarch. The bread soaks up the oil and asparagus juices and releases them back through the dish, creating a body that is simultaneously rustic and complex. Resist the temptation to use a blender: the mortar leaves textured chunks that give the finished dish its character. The asparagus goes in cut, not whole, so every piece absorbs the sauce on all sides. Then the eggs — one per person — are broken directly into the cazuela and cooked covered until the whites set and the yolks stay molten. When they break at the table, they enrich everything further. Served straight from the earthenware dish, in the middle of the table, with good bread alongside.

40 min 4
Read