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The woman from La Rioja who has dedicated her whole life to cooking: “When I open the fridge, all my worries disappear.”

The woman from La Rioja who has dedicated her whole life to cooking: “When I open the fridge, all my worries disappear.”

At the time we made the phone call at the pre-arranged time with the cook, Angelita Alfaro, the procession was taking place in Pamplona's old town, the one where the 'Jota a San Fermín' is sung every July 7th. This year, to make matters worse, it's celebrating its 50th anniversary.

"It was amazing, the people really came out and it was incredibly moving. Since my husband is bedridden, I couldn't go. But I've always loved going to this procession because, in addition, I run into lots of people who know me and I stop to talk to them." That's what this woman from La Rioja—born in Cervera del Río Alhama—who has lived for nearly seven decades in Txantrea, one of the most charismatic and historic neighborhoods in the Navarrese capital, told us when we asked her if it was worth it.

But when it comes to charisma and history, our guest is the most remarkable. At 85, she continues to demonstrate a surprising passion for cooking. With a total of 26 books to her name, today we'll review with Angelita a career that has encompassed everything: from being named ambassador of Navarrese Asparagus and honorary member of the Tudela Artichoke Brotherhood to rubbing shoulders with chefs of the caliber of Martín Berasategui, Andoni Luis Aduriz, and Pedro Subijana.

We took advantage of the fact that her definitive work has just been published—though she swears there will be more—a book with over 900 recipes steeped in tradition and experience, whose sole objective is "to make others happy, nothing more, nothing less." And a few minutes of conversation with her were enough to realize that in her case, it's true: Angelita lives for and through cooking. It's her way of being in the world, of communicating with those around her, and of showing them her affection.

You were 47 when your first cookbook, 'Angelita's Kitchen,' was published. And you haven't stopped since. How do you remember that time?

Well, they did it for me in San Sebastián, because I've always been very adventurous, you know? (laughs) I remember I had my 435 pages, which were incredibly difficult to type, because I didn't know how, and I decided to call the people at Zabaltzen (now Elkar), who make records and books, to see if they could publish it. And when they came and met me, they told me they'd take care of everything, so I was thrilled. And look, shortly after, I did two with Everest, and since then, I've practically released a new one every year or two. The one I just published is number 26.

And what exactly is 'Angelita Alfaro's Great Cookbook'? Are all the recipes of your life in here?

Oh, no way (laughs), if I started listing all the recipes I know, I'd never finish, because recipes just flow for me. There's nothing in the world I love more than hearing or reading a new recipe. And since cooking is endless, I'm constantly changing them. Last night, for example, I made some calamari that turned out beautifully. And I also prepared rabbit because my hairdresser was coming to do my hair today, since my business partner is ill—he's 97—and I can't leave him. But I love it when people come over for meals; I serve them rabbit, calamari... and, to start, gazpacho! To quench the thirst of my lovely guests... But, getting back to the book, I want to make it clear that it won't be the last one. They said so at the presentation the other day, and I don't want to stop writing because it's my life, cooking is my life.

Have you ever experienced cooking as a job, or has it always been something you enjoy?

Work? Not at all. When I'm having a bit of a dull, sad day, I go to the fridge to see what I have. And I start thinking I could make this, or that... And, quickly, Angelita gets to work and all her worries disappear. Cooking is my life, and I use it to brighten other people's lives. My thing is giving. I gain five or six kilos of happiness when I cook something for someone I know will like it. Like when I make my ajoarriero bites, little bread rolls that I fill with ajoarriero (a traditional Spanish dish). I usually carry 11 or 12 in my bag and give them to people I need to thank. The other day I took three to the guy at Alhambra (referring to chef Javier Díaz), because I didn't have any more. I also made him a pair of size 21 espadrilles with Saint Fermin embroidered in gold because I've been making espadrilles since I was seven, and I wanted to do that for him since he said such lovely things about me on the day of the presentation. I can't thank him enough for that.

And how much time do you spend in the kitchen each day?

All of them, I don't care, I don't count the hours. But what I will tell you is that as soon as I get out of bed and wash my face like a cat, I get to work. And even more so now, since thanks to the freezers we don't have any waste. I go to the freezer to see what's there, and I take out two or three things. But so many people ask me, surprised, how I'm still cooking at 85, and I tell them that I cook more than ever now (laughs). The day before yesterday I made 80 muffins, which I make with orange, and they turned out divine. And this morning I gave them all away, I gave them to everyone.

Before discovering your passion for cooking, you did practically everything, even things that weren't typical for a young girl, like starting to make espadrilles at seven years old. How do you remember those years?

Well, you see, I've always been very restless, and I knew my paternal grandmother lived in Tudela, so when I was seven, I told my mother I wanted to go and meet her. But she said we didn't have enough money for the bus, so she promised I could go when I made my First Communion. So I went down to Tudela the day I made my First Communion. And there I met a lady who came from Cervera, from my village, and who gave espadrilles to make for my grandmother and other women. And I didn't understand why they didn't give me any too, so I asked them to let me try. I also remember that at school I had a teacher, Doña Julia, who was from Burgos and she was very fond of me. Because she noticed that I never took my eyes off the book and what they were saying, while the others were doing all sorts of silly things. But they were just little kids, what else could they do? (laughs)

It must have been a very different childhood than the one your grandchildren have now...

Oh, my grandchildren adore me. They draw pictures for me and put them on my bedroom wall. They adore me, and I adore them passionately. I have four, and they're even more studious than I am. The only thing I ever scold my children for is that they only come to see me once a week. I ask them, "Why do you leave me so alone?" And they say, "Mom, but we were here the other day." But it feels like a whole summer between one visit and the next.

I know you've made so many, and it won't be easy to choose, but I have to ask you. Which recipe are you most proud of?

A cod stew made with love, but you have to be very careful with the desalting. If you don't desalinate it properly, you're screwed. You have to change the water at least three times. It's essential to use a good extra virgin olive oil, that's a must. And the cod has to be well desalted and squeezed dry, as it should be. Keep the skins separate, because when you break them with a wooden spoon, you get all the gelatin out. And then, since I make a kilo or a kilo and a half of cod stew, I add half an onion, almost a whole head of garlic, and even a little green bell pepper. I also add grated tomato; I don't like it from a jar, I like to grate it myself with love. And something I've been doing lately that turns out really well is putting some tiny diced potatoes in a pan, which makes the sauce thicker. And then I buy those little buns, scrape out all the crumb, cover them with the garlic and breadcrumb sauce that's been sitting out for two days, put a lid on them, and fry them in a deep pan with plenty of sunflower oil. I told the guy at Alhambra that if he made that pintxo, he'd make a fortune! (laughs)

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