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The History of Los Volaores (Flying Fish) – Francisco Rebolo
My love for simple things and distinctive flavours keeps growing: stews, gazpachos, soups…
In this category of basic, even primitive fare is the “volaor” (pronounced thus with the inter-vowel “d” missing as a consequence of the Celtic idiomatic softening in the evolution of Spanish in our geographical area; I just mention this here for those who wish to delve deeper into the subject).
To start with, it is a means to reconnecting with the most ancient ways of preparing and preserving food using… air and salt. An alternative, natural way to preserve food would be by natural freezing but, all the indicators are that human beings originated from deep within Africa and made their way northwards and I don’t see much snow there (apart from at Kilimanjaro).
In the early days of the different civilizations, the ability to conserve food in order to survive the lean times was an unquestionable advantage. We know that many great advances and nutritional discoveries were brought about by sieges, wars or military campaigns (“turron” (nougat), for example), because as long as one did not have to worry about the daily search for food, one could devote oneself to the ‘noble arts’ of war, rape and pillage and the like – if it was under the banner of an opportune “All for king and country” or an empowering “ God wills it.”
And that is where , we find this traditional and millenary delicacy, the volaor (the flying fish). In our region (roughly a triangle formed by La Linea and even Algeciras, Ceuta and Estepona), the volaor has been cooked for thousands of years, dating back to the Phoenicians at the very least, amid plentiful tuna, cetaceans, birds and even television chat show regulars.
Aside from being an obvious advantage such wealth, takes on a strategic importance and develops a source family income and sustenance provided by this little exploited delicacy into traditional art form. Remember that many centuries before La Linea even existed, La Atunara was already well established as a fishing village exploiting the bountiful fisheries. Without a doubt, it was there that the practise of drying octopus evolved, sardines were skewered and volaores were hung to dry taking advantage of the wind and the salty air; when suspended from the walls of houses present an extremely curious sight to those who see them for the first time.
So, how do you eat a volaor? Just so, with cautious bites, removing only the skin and avoiding the uncomfortable fishbones. And that’s it. I think that, since the Japanese make similar things (they have this thing they call katsuobushi that is no more than dehydrated tuna scales, with which they make all kinds of exquisite sauces and soups), wouldn’t it be possible for our Spanish cooks to incorporate the volaor into other dishes such as salads, soups and the like?
I think so; the problem is that the volaor is little known because, even as an anthropological wonder, it has not yet risen to the culinary heights which it deserves on account of its continued survival and flavour.
Not that long ago, the salted fish of the Atlantic coast was also little known. Tuna was nothing but a survival aid. Scarlet shrimps (“carabineros”), monkfish and galeras were looked down on because of the way that their appearance. Since we have begun to appreciate such delicacies, let’s see if we can put our modest millenary immigrants in their proper place and exalt the unsophisticated way of making the best of our resources.
By the way, for those who want to know exactly what the volaor is, there is this thing called Google. And for those who want to taste it, you’re almost too late at this time of year (September) but you may find some in street stalls or markets. Do it and we can talk about it later..
The History of Los Volaores (Flying Fish) – Francisco Rebolo
