Good morning from the Valencian huerta.
Today I sat down for a bit after reviewing the morning orders, to tell you something that makes me very excited.
You know that here we harvest what you ask for and we go out to the field every day for what you have chosen. It is our way of working and, as far as I know, there is no one else in Spain who does it this way.
Today it's time to talk about one of the queens of the field. It has many varieties (and believe me when I say many, I mean many).
Of these queens, the ones we have, both at home and in the online store, are grown by our colleague Vicent in the heart of the Valencian huerta.
If you close your eyes, you can almost hear the irrigation channels running, the hoe, and Vicent talking about his sowing times as if guarding a grandmother's recipe: crop rotation, fine irrigation, living soil, and hand harvesting.
Truly artisan.
Yes, I'm talking about potatoes.
I'll give you a fact that I find beautiful. Throughout history, more than seven thousand varieties of potatoes have been documented. Seven thousand ways to understand the same tuber. Then you look at the supermarket shelf and always see the same two or three...
That's why at Campos del Abuelo we choose Vicent's Vivaldi. Not because it has a nice name, which it does, but because it is of the highest quality and because betting on these varieties means taking care of the diversity of the countryside, which is our life insurance.
And what is the Vivaldi like? Fine, smooth, golden skin, light yellow flesh, and that creamy yet firm texture that holds its own. It tastes mild, with a hint of sweetness and a touch of good earth. It is very versatile.
Boiled it's perfect, roasted it gets a golden brown that deserves applause, steamed it keeps its bite, and in an omelet... let's not open that can of worms, as that's where the kitchen civil war begins. With or without onion, I decide, you decide, who decides? In this house, everyone is loved equally.
It's called Vivaldi after the composer of the four seasons, and it's no coincidence. This potato can be grown throughout the year. It's not picky about daylight hours and adapts very well to our Mediterranean temperatures.
In Vicent's case, he staggers the plantings and rotates plots, so there isn't always potato available. But not because it can't be done, but to avoid depleting the soil, to prevent it from getting tired to the point of breaking.
It's like conducting an orchestra, each instrument comes in at its own time and, when everything is well tuned, the result is music to the palate 🎻.
A countryside curiosity: if you find a potato with a little dirt on it, leave it, it doesn't bother. That thin layer protects and extends its life. We don't do fashion shows here, we make real food 🥔.
What I like most about this profession is that you never get bored. One day I write to you about strawberries and the next about oranges, and today about potatoes named after a concert.
The countryside is entertaining because each crop is a world and because every day we learn something new.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to those of you who are interested in these stories. Allowing us to tell you what happens between rows and irrigation ditches gives us strength.
Your orders mean that every morning we go out to harvest exactly what you are going to eat, direct from the field to your kitchen, without intermediaries. It's that simple and that special.
A big hug and have an excellent Wednesday. See you among orange groves and potatoes. 🌱
