Seafood Paella
- jonashton
- Aug 11
- 15 min read
Seafood paella: a symphony of the sea, where saffron-kissed rice meets the freshest catch, creating a dish that's as unforgettable as the moments shared over it.
Valencia! A city drenched in sunlight so brilliant and warm, it felt as though the heavens themselves had spilled liquid gold over the streets.
And then there’s me. Standing there in a bright yellow T-shirt that my new girlfriend had purchased for me. It was tight enough to make me resemble a traffic cone trapped in the body of a sausage. Eight days aboard a cruise ship, indulging in every conceivable culinary delight, and I had become a walking, breathing testament to the gluttonous joys of the high seas. Honestly, if I inhaled any deeper, I feared my T-shirt might burst like a confetti-filled balloon. Lady Ashton, on the other hand, looked as though she had just stepped off the pages of Vogue, while I, in my brilliant yellow attire, resembled a puddle of melted cheese under the sweltering Mediterranean sun.
“You know you've overindulged when even your T-shirt starts filing complaints,” I muttered under my breath, only half joking.
At that moment, I wasn’t exactly awash with wealth. If I had more, I’d have a personal guide, a gilded chariot, and a butler with a towel and cocktail in hand. But, as fortune would have it, the shore excursions office knew that I didn’t have too much money and took a liking to me. Knowing I was traveling with my new girlfriend, he said he would try to get me some tickets for tours that hadn’t sold out or had cancellations.
When Lady Ashton would ask, “What are we doing tomorrow?” I’d always answer with an air of mystery, “I know you like surprises, but I’m working on getting us on a special tour.”
At precisely 8:15 PM, I met with the Shore Excursions Officer. When he flashed me a broad smile, I knew it was going to be a good one. Perhaps it was a helicopter ride? Or a coveted paella class that had sold out the moment the ink had dried on the tickets? Or even the dream yacht sailing? But no. He handed me the tickets with a wink and said, “We’ve got extras for the zoo.”
I paused for a beat, blinking at him.“The zoo?” I asked, my brain momentarily short circuiting. He smiled, the kind of smile that comes with the unspoken knowledge of knowing you’ve just been handed a moment of delightful absurdity. “It’s quite lovely. You’ll have a great time. Maybe Lady Ashton will take you to see the orangutans and reintroduce you to your natural habitat.”
After dinner, Lady Ashton, ever the one to feign excitement at anything, asked, “What are we doing tomorrow?”
“I’ve arranged for a special trip to the Valencia zoo,” I said, my voice laden with faux enthusiasm.
She looked at me, a flash of confusion crossing her face.
“Oh, a zoo? Do you like zoos?”
“Oh, yes. I love zoos. They’re among my most beloved places in the world.”
She blinked. “A zoo, really?”
“Oh, absolutely,” I replied, the words coming out with an air of conviction that only a man who had no idea why he had committed to such an adventure could muster. “Zoos are my favorite. The perfect blend of animal behavior and curious humanity.”
Entering the Zoo
We arrived, and to my surprise, it was absolutely marvelous. The gates creaked open, and immediately, we were submerged into the wild, intoxicating sounds of the zoo—roars that sounded like they’d been torn from the depths of a drunken opera, squawks that could shatter glass, and the occasional “Do you mind? I’m trying to take a nap here!” grunt. The air was thick with the unmistakable scent of hay, mingling with something more primal—something feral—like the animals had gathered in an impromptu high tea of their own making. The whole place was a riot of nature, utterly unperturbed by the fact that humans had stumbled into their domain.
As we wandered through, I couldn’t help but marvel at the lions. There they were, lounging in the shade, the very embodiment of regal disinterest—like self-appointed royalty who had grown tired of their own majesty. They looked utterly indifferent to my gormless, open-mouthed stare. I imagined their thoughts: “Oh, marvelous. Another human who’s forgotten to take his medication, staring at us as though we are the eighth wonder of the world. Time for a nap.”
“I’d love to think of myself as majestic,” I mused aloud, “but I’m more of a confused bear in a T-shirt that’s threatening to burst at the seams.”
The Unwanted Expert
What my dear shore excursions office had neglected to tell me is that some of the guests might ask me questions. Now, I’ve watched a few David Attenborough shows—granted, mostly for the soothing voice and the occasional glimpse of a cheetah in action—but I’m no expert on animals and their antics. In fact, the only thing I know about lions is that they make you feel like a snack if you look them in the eye for too long. And monkeys? Well, I've seen enough YouTube videos to know they’re far more interested in throwing things at you than having an intellectual conversation about their diet.
But there I was, suddenly thrust into the role of an impromptu zoologist. As I stood there, feeling like an imposter at a TED Talk, I realized that my animal knowledge was about as solid as a wet napkin. So, when Mrs. Pemberton asked if the lions had been fed, I felt like I was auditioning for a role I wasn’t prepared for. “Oh, they’ve had their fill of lion kibble,” I said, trying to sound like I knew what I was talking about, “But they’re picky eaters. They prefer their meals served on a silver platter with a side of applause.”
A guest leaned in—like I was about to solve a riddle of the universe—and asked, “What about the monkeys? What do they eat?” I paused, wondering if I could say “bananas” without sounding like I’d stolen that from a cartoon. Instead, I decided to channel my inner Robin Williams and said, “Oh, they’re on a very exclusive diet—bananas, espresso shots, and the occasional Nutella sandwich. They’ve got high standards, these ones. They’re probably tweeting about their brunch right now.”
The Elephants and Wi-Fi
And the elephants? Well, they didn’t move. They simply sat there, imposing and unyielding, giving us the kind of sideways glance that only an elephant can pull off—the look that says, “Yes, we know we’re magnificent. You may stop staring now, we’ve already perfected this act.” They were regal in their stillness, and frankly, they made me feel inadequate as I stood there, sweating like a pig in a shirt two sizes too small.
“Good grief,” said Mrs. Penelope Goodwin, a sprightly lady with an accent as thick as clotted cream. “They’re all the same, aren’t they? Too big for their boots. If I had an elephant, I’d tell it to get a job.”
“I bet they’re just waiting for their Wi-Fi password, Mrs. Goodwin,” I replied quickly. “You know, to scroll through Instagram and look at pictures of themselves.”
She winked at me as if I’d cracked some ancient riddle. “That’s exactly what I’d tell them too! Probably just waiting for their first delivery from Uber Eats.”
The Simplicity of It All
But I’ll tell you, the best part wasn’t the fancy exhibits or the wildlife documentaries we could’ve been watching at home—it was the simplicity of it all. The animals had no agendas, no schedules. No selfies with flamingos. No ‘must-see’ creatures. Just animals in their natural state, living with unbothered ease. Meanwhile, here I was, sweating like a pig in a yellow T-shirt, contemplating whether I could out-breathe the fabric.
Entering the CafE
We stepped inside the zoo café, and the world shifted. The aromas of grilled meats, spices, and fresh bread hit me like a tidal wave. The kitchen hummed with activity, and the sun poured in, bathing everything in a golden glow, as though the very light had been handpicked by the gods. Outside, the zoo unfurled like an old, well-worn map, the trees whispering in the breeze, the calls of animals punctuating the atmosphere. We sat beneath a sprawling tree, its leaves dancing like the hands of a silent orchestra, while the distant roars of the lions served as an unexpected yet fitting soundtrack. It was like being in a dream—a dream I hadn’t realized I was lucky enough to have been invited to.
The Food
I took a bite, and suddenly, the world around me seemed to slow. The rice was perfect—tender, with the faintest crisp at the bottom that crackled under my fork like a little secret. The chicken? Smoky, juicy, bursting with flavor. The seafood? So tender, so sweet, it could have been swimming minutes before. Each bite was an orchestra, playing just for me. And here I was—stuffed into a T-shirt, dripping with sweat—eating the best food I’d had in days.
Then Came the Rhinos
Just as I thought I couldn’t love this day any more, the unexpected happened. Lady Ashton and I leaned back in our chairs, content, when a sudden thwomp echoed in the distance. I turned toward the sound. There, in the dusty enclosure across the way, were two massive rhinos. But these weren’t your average zoo animals. They weren’t just standing around grazing or doing the usual rhino thing. Oh no, these two were dancing. And not just dancing—waltzing. They circled each other like two seasoned performers preparing for a grand show. The larger one swayed its head, while the smaller one—surprisingly spry—followed suit.
I thought, Are they... are they doing the rhino cha-cha?
“Do you think they’ll do the tango next?” Lady Ashton whispered, her eyes wide with amusement.
“If they start breakdancing, I’m calling Guinness,” I replied, unable to look away from their perfectly synchronized movements. Honestly, if they started twirling in tutus, I wouldn’t have been surprised.
The thwomp of their feet wasn’t just rhythm—it was the beat of the earth. Their steps were deliberate, synchronized, almost choreographed. The ground quaked beneath their massive feet, each thwomp sending vibrations through the dirt, setting the pace for what could only be described as their dance of destiny. If this was the opening act, I was bracing myself for a full-blown Broadway show.
Lady Ashton looked at me, her face a mirror of disbelief. “Do you think they’ll do the Waltz of the Flowers next?”
“If these rhinos start pirouetting, I’m booking tickets for Dancing with the Stars: Rhino Edition.”
Final Thoughts
And here’s the thing. In the middle of all the absurdity—the sweating, the ridiculous dance-off between rhinos, the food that made me question why I was even wearing this yellow T-shirt—I realized something important. Sometimes, life doesn’t need to be perfectly planned. Sometimes, the best moments are the unexpected ones. The ones you can’t foresee. Like two rhinos in a zoo dancing for an audience of confused tourists, or sitting with someone you love and sharing a plate of food that tastes like it was made by the gods themselves.
By the time the rhinos finished their last synchronized spin, the applause was deafening. But I wasn’t clapping. I was too busy thinking about how this chaotic, messy day had turned into one of the best I’d had in a long time.
A guest, leaning in with all the seriousness of a job interview, whispered, “Do you think these rhinos are on the endangered list?”
Without missing a beat, I turned back to him and said, “If they are, these two are certainly giving it their all to get off it.”
Final Reflections
As I sat there, watching the rhinos dance and Lady Ashton’s laughter filling the air, it hit me. Sometimes, the best moments are the ones you didn’t plan for. The ones that happen when you let go of expectations and embrace the absurdity of life. A day spent in a too-tight T-shirt, at a zoo I never imagined visiting, with a love that felt like it had bloomed just as unexpectedly as the rhinos’ impromptu waltz. It didn’t matter that I was sweating like a furnace, or that my shirt was threatening to explode at any given moment. What mattered was the freedom to laugh at the chaos, to be fully present in each wild moment, and to realize that, just like the animals in the zoo, we too could embrace the unplanned and still find joy. So here’s to spontaneity, to open-mindedness, and to the moments that don’t always fit into the neat boxes we make for them. Because sometimes, even the most uncomfortable situations can lead to the best memories—and even in the most ill fitting T-shirt, love can still blossom.
The Aroma: A Breath of the Mediterranean in Your Kitchen
First of all, let’s address the smell. Oh, the smell! The moment that saffron hits the hot oil, it’s like an invisible cloud of sunshine fills the air. It’s rich, floral, and exotic, like you’ve been transported to a bustling market in Valencia. Then comes the seafood—shrimp, mussels, squid—and oh, that glorious chorizo sizzling away in the pan. It’s intoxicating, my friend. Every time I cook it, I feel like I’m in the middle of some grand Mediterranean food festival. The air is so fragrant, it makes you want to inhale deeply, even though you know you'll probably suffocate from all the glorious smells. And the rice—well, when it begins to crisp at the bottom, you’re in for something truly special.
The Feel: Cooking Paella Feels Like Magic
Cooking seafood paella is like conducting an orchestra—each ingredient plays its part perfectly. The sizzling sound of the seafood hitting the pan, the soft crackling of the rice, the gentle stirring—it's like you’re casting a spell. You know that feeling when you can’t stop stirring, because it just feels so right? That’s paella. It’s an active, engaged process. It’s cooking with purpose, and it makes you feel like a chef at the top of your game. And when that perfect golden crust forms at the bottom of the pan? You feel like you’ve unlocked a secret that only the lucky few know.
But the true magic happens when you serve it up. The paella is a stunning centerpiece—a vibrant mosaic of color, with the bright reds and oranges of the shrimp and tomatoes, the dark mussels, and the creamy aioli drizzled on top. It’s like the food is singing, “Come on, take a bite—I’m irresistible.”
The Taste: Ocean Freshness Meets Hearty Comfort
Now, let’s get to the real reason we’re all here—the taste. Oh, this is where paella really shines. The rice, infused with the richness of saffron, the umami from the seafood, and that slight smokiness from the chorizo, creates a flavor combination that is absolutely impossible to resist. Each bite is a perfect marriage of fresh, delicate seafood and hearty, slightly crispy rice. It’s like eating a little piece of heaven with every spoonful.
And the seafood—let’s talk about that for a moment. The shrimp? Tender and sweet, cooked just enough to keep that perfect snap. The mussels? They open up and release the salty, briny goodness that you can only get from the sea. The squid—oh, don’t get me started on the squid. It’s perfectly cooked, not too rubbery, just the right amount of bite. And then you’ve got that lemony aioli drizzled over the top, giving everything a delightful, creamy contrast. One bite, and you’ll understand why this dish has been adored for centuries.
The Feel: Cooking Paella Feels Like Magic
Cooking seafood paella is like conducting an orchestra—each ingredient plays its part perfectly. The sizzling sound of the seafood hitting the pan, the soft crackling of the rice, the gentle stirring—it's like you’re casting a spell. You know that feeling when you can’t stop stirring, because it just feels so right? That’s paella. It’s an active, engaged process. It’s cooking with purpose, and it makes you feel like a chef at the top of your game. And when that perfect golden crust forms at the bottom of the pan? You feel like you’ve unlocked a secret that only the lucky few know.
But the true magic happens when you serve it up. The paella is a stunning centerpiece—a vibrant mosaic of color, with the bright reds and oranges of the shrimp and tomatoes, the dark mussels, and the creamy aioli drizzled on top. It’s like the food is singing, “Come on, take a bite—I’m irresistible.”
Seafood Paella: More Than Just a Meal, It’s a Celebration
Here’s the thing about seafood paella—it’s about more than just the ingredients. It’s about the joy it brings to the table. Picture it: You’ve spent an hour or so cooking, the smell of saffron still hanging in the air, the golden rice resting perfectly in the pan. You bring the pan to the table, and everyone gathers around, eager for the first bite. As you serve up generous portions, you can see the excitement in everyone’s eyes. There’s something inherently communal about paella. It’s meant to be shared, savored, and celebrated.
So, when you’re sitting down with friends or family, digging into that glorious paella, you realize it’s not just about the food—it’s about the memories being made. It’s about those moments of joy, laughter, and connection. This, my friend, is why seafood paella is more than just a meal—it’s an experience.
Why Seafood Paella is the Ultimate Comfort Food
You may be wondering, why is seafood paella so universally adored? It's simple—it’s comfort food with a twist. The rice is the perfect balance of soft and crispy, the seafood is fresh and flavorful, and that saffron undertone ties everything together in a glorious harmony. It’s like your favorite childhood comfort food, but with an elegant, grown-up flair.
Whether you’re celebrating a special occasion or just want to spoil yourself (and a few lucky guests), seafood paella is your ticket to culinary happiness. It’s indulgent, it’s fresh, and above all, it’s fun. So, go on—make it, serve it, and watch everyone around the table fall in love with it, just as I have.
Key Reasons to Fall in Love with Seafood Paella
The Sensory Magic: From the rich, intoxicating aroma to the sensational taste, seafood paella is a sensory journey you won’t forget.
The Perfect Balance: The combination of fresh seafood and saffron-infused rice creates a flavor explosion you’ll crave long after the plate is empty.
The Cooking Experience: Preparing paella feels like crafting something truly special. The process itself is a rewarding experience.
The Social Dish: Seafood paella isn’t just food—it’s about bringing people together and sharing moments.
So, roll up your sleeves, grab your ingredients, and let the seafood paella magic begin. With every bite, you’ll understand why it’s my absolute favorite dish. Trust me, your taste buds will thank you.
Ingredients:
Saffron Rice
7½ cups chicken stock
4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 large Spanish onion, finely chopped
3 cups Bomba rice
1 large pinch saffron
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Paella
4 plum tomatoes, halved lengthwise
1 tablespoon honey
7 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 (2½-pound) whole chickens, each cut into 8 pieces
½ pound chorizo, sliced into ½-inch-thick coins
8 large shrimp, peeled and deveined
4 baby squid, cleaned and bodies sliced into rings
1 cup fresh peas
24 mussels, scrubbed and debearded
24 littleneck clams, scrubbed and rinsed
¼ cup coarsely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
½ cup Lemon Aioli (recipe above)
2 (1½-pound) lobsters, cooked and meat removed from the shells
INSTRUCTIONS:
The Method
Saffron Rice Preparation:
In a large saucepan, bring the stock to a gentle boil over medium-high heat. Once the stock starts bubbling, turn the heat down to a simmer, allowing it to settle comfortably, like a warm hug.
In another large saucepan, add the olive oil. Let the butter melt gently, swirling the pan until it turns that lovely golden colour. Toss in the onion, and let it soften, releasing its fragrance for about 5 minutes, until it’s as tender as a sweet summer breeze. Stir in the rice, making sure every grain is well coated with the buttery magic.
Next, take a pinch of saffron—just enough to make the rice sing with warmth—and drop it into the simmering stock. Let it bloom in the heat for 1 minute. Carefully pour the hot stock over the rice, seasoning it with a pinch of salt and a good crack of black pepper. Bring it to a boil, then lower the heat and cover. Let it cook for 12 minutes, allowing the rice to soak up all that liquid. Stir gently, then cover again and let it cook for another 20-25 minutes. The rice should be soft, tender, and full of life. Fluff it with a fork, set it aside, and let the flavours settle in.
Paella Preparation:
Preheat your oven to 375°F (190°C). Halve the tomatoes and place them in a small baking dish. Drizzle with honey, a touch of olive oil, and season with salt and pepper. Roast them for 20 minutes, until they’re soft and oozing their goodness. Set them aside, then increase the oven temperature to 450°F (230°C).
Place a wire rack over a baking sheet. Heat 3 tablespoons of olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat, until the oil begins to shimmer like sunlight on water. Season the chicken pieces with salt and pepper, and brown them in batches, ensuring all sides are crisp and golden. Once browned, place the chicken on the wire rack and let it rest.
Once all the chicken is browned, transfer the baking sheet to the oven and roast the chicken for 15 minutes until fully cooked. Allow it to rest for a few minutes before serving.
In a medium sauté pan, cook the chorizo over medium-high heat, allowing the fat to render and the chorizo to crisp up beautifully, about 8 minutes. Remove from the pan and drain on a paper towel-lined plate.
In a large paella pan, heat the remaining 2 tablespoons of olive oil over medium-high heat. Season the shrimp with salt and pepper, and sauté for 1 minute. Add the squid, season again, and cook for another 2-3 minutes, until the seafood is just cooked through. Stir in the saffron rice, peas, roasted tomatoes, the chicken, and chorizo, mixing them all together. Lower the heat to medium-low, and let the mixture cook undisturbed for 10 minutes, letting a beautiful golden crust form on the bottom of the rice.
Meanwhile, in a large pot, combine the mussels, clams, and 1 cup of water. Cover and cook over medium-high heat until the shells open, about 10 minutes. Discard any that don't open. Drain the shellfish, then carefully nestle them into the rice. Stir in the parsley and ½ cup of the lemon aioli, mixing everything together gently. Taste and adjust the seasoning with salt and pepper. Top with the lobster meat and serve immediately, watching the delight unfold with each spoonful.
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