Paella Palooza

Phorum Pandya finds herself in Valencia on World Paella Day, and dives into its history and present-day indulgence

- Phorum Pandya

VOLUPTUOUS NIMBUS rain clouds crowd the sky as our train pulls into Valencia Joaquín Sorolla. Like most passengers, we stop to buy umbrellas before exiting the station.

It's odd, for out of 365 days, Valencia, seated on the eastern coast of the Iberian Peninsula fed by the Turia River, is barely drenched for 10 days.

In 700 AD, the Moors saw this Mediterranean climate as beneficial for sowing rice in the surrounding sunny fields of Albufera, a freshwater lagoon around 12 kilometres from the city, turning it into the most important rice-producing region in Spain. They also invented paella, a meal for the poor field labourers, who set out from home in the early hours of the morning to till the land, carrying in tow a flat 'paella' or pan, some rice, oil, salt, and paprika. The protein and vegetables depended on that day's hunt or leftovers.

Over time, paella's irresistible aromas wafted to the upper class. One version earned the nickname Naked seafood paella or arroz del Senyoret, where every seafood element was peeled for those who didn't want to dirty their hands.

I have arrived a day before Valencia celebrates World Paella Day on September 20. For the past five years, it has coincided with the Paella World Cup where international chefs battle it out for the best paella title.

The city is peppered with orange trees. On a walking tour, I learn they are a wild variety that cannot be consumed. The wood, on the other hand, is used to light the fire for paella.