All language subtitles for Eva Longoria Searching for Spain S01E06 Asturias 1080p AMZN WEB-DL DDP5 1 H 264-NTb[EZTVx.to]

Wow.

You know, my whole life,
I grew up as

a very proud
Mexican American in Texas.

But my dad always spoke
about our Spanish heritage.

"We're from Spain.
We're from Spain."

So I decided to do a DNA test.

And it turns out I am Spanish.

And not any old Spanish.

I come from nobility
here in Asturias,

and this chapel was built by my
ancestors hundreds of years ago.

I'm Eva Longoria.

11 generations ago,
one of my ancestors

left Spain for the New World
and a new life.

400 years later, I'm back.

I'm so excited!
- ¡Salud!

And I'm exploring Spain
and its 17 regions

to see how the land
and its people

have created one of the world's
most exciting cuisines.

I think you know
what you're doing.

I'm in Asturias and it's hard
to believe this is Spain.

This is stunning.

Forget sun, sea, and sangria.

It's wet, wild,
and mountainous.

You're just like, "Where am I?"

Living here takes effort--

...and teamwork.

What?!
We're gonna be here forever.

And even a rebellious streak

that could be
in our shared DNA.

I was the black sheep
of my family.

- Me, too.
- I'm sure you were.

Asturians have learned
to make the most

of their rugged home.

And their food,
like the people,

is hearty, unpretentious--

and made with love.
Oh, wow.

But Asturias has a tiny
population that's shrinking,

and only a few choose to stay
and take on the stormy seas

and unforgiving peaks.

Those that do
are rewarded with produce

that lifts Spain's
gastronomy to new heights--

Mm.
Wow.

This isn't a cave,
this is a hole!

...And occasionally,
hidden depths.

I'm going down.

It's crazy to think how few
people have heard of Asturias.

Gracias.

Yet, this is where
Spain's story began.

Asturias sits
on the northernmost tip

of the Iberian Peninsula,

wedged between
the Bay of Biscay

and the
Cantabrian Mountains.

It was these mountains

that help the Asturians push
back the invading Moors,

establishing a stronghold

that some say was the origin
of the Reconquista,

the birth of Christian Spain.

But they also worship at
another altar,-- the cider bar.

- So good to see you.
- How are you?

Good.
So happy to be here.

Back in Asturias with you.

Pablo Albuerne has cooked
his way around the world,

earning the nickname
the Gipsy Chef.

But his heart is here
in Asturias.

I say that I'm
more Asturian than an apple--

Okay?

Apple is the main ingredient
needed, the only one,

for cider.
- Yeah, cider.

And there's no good welcome
in Asturias without cider.

- Without cider.
- This is very important.

Well, you better welcome me
well, then.

Of course!
Let's go for the cider.

Cider to the Asturians
is like wine to the French

or tequila to the Mexicans.

It's been their favorite drink
of choice for over 2,000 years,

and they even have their own
word for the way you pour it--

Escanciado.

The bottle is served
with just one glass,

traditionally, all
that families could afford.

- Can I do it?
- Ah!

So everyone gets a turn
at pouring.

You put your arm as high
as possible.

- Right.
- Okay?

Then you put back the glass.

Why like that?

Because you want
the liquid to cross over here.

- You want it to crash?
- Yes.

Got it.
As the cider crashes down,

carbon dioxide is released,
producing a momentary fizz--

Okay.
Higher, higher, higher, higher.

I'm short, that's as high
as it goes.

...even with my
arm-to-glass ratio.

- Ah!
- And then you need to drink.

Do you like it?
- Yes, but it's a lot.

I have to drink it all?
- Yes.

It tastes like kombucha,
like something fermented.

- Yeah.
- But you can taste the apple.

That'd be dangerous.
We drank too much.

- Here we go.
- Oh my God.

Wow.

This is kind of
pâté made with fish.

Thank you.

The Asturians compliment the
cider with some hearty bites.

Mm. Cheers.

- Mm.
- Oh.

This is so good.
I'm gonna like it here.

Let's have the last cider
before we...

But even with snacks,
it's a heady brew.

No more for you.

Though cider is popular
in the cities,

it was traditionally made
and drunk by farmers,

making the most
of their bumper crop.

This house is a family's that
make cider here in Asturias.

Oh, wow.

We are going to meet
a very close friend,

Tano Collada and his family.

They make one of the best
homemade ciders you can taste.

- Really?
- Yeah. You will see.

Villaviciosa is
cider country.

The humid microclimate here

creates a magical mist
known as the orbayu,

which, coupled
with the acidic soil,

gives birth to the
delicious Asturian apple.

Hola!

- Hi, Tano.
- Hi, Pablo. Hi.

- Oh, nice to meet you.
- Nice to meet you.

Oh, my God,
it takes a lot of people.

- Yeah.
- Do you want me to work?

- Yeah.
- Okay.

Tano and his cousins are
fourth generation cider makers.

They use a process
dating back to medieval times

to press their apple crop
into cider.

And not to sell,
but to drink.

That's you and
your family?

So you drink everything
you make?

How many kilos?

What?!

- Oh my God!
- To fill one barrel?

- We're gonna be here forever.
- Yeah.

The apples are crushed
into small pieces

and then spread out in the
hopper before being pressed.

The juice ferments
for about six months

before the
personalized barrels are shared

with family and friends.

I want the barrel
to have my name on it now.

I think my ancestors
would be proud of my efforts,

and I certainly like my reward.

- Oh, that's not sweet at all.
- It's a little bitter.

- Yeah.
- But it's so refreshing.

Does it go bad ever?

And then after three years,
you would have to throw it out?

Oh, you're not throwing
out, drinking,

- For sure.
- You just have to drink it.

I love that, like, throwing it
out is not an option.

- No, no, no, no.
- Hurry up. We gotta drink it.

Oh, this is gorgeous!

The Asturians don't
just create the cider together,

they enjoy the cider together.

And it's not raining anymore.

No, it's Asturias with sun.

Pablo and I are joining
the family

for a community celebration
known as an espicha.

- Buenas tardes.
- Wow.

- Look at these barrels!
- Look at the size, huh?

Yes.

It might look like
a super sized keg party,

but before cider was bottled,

cider mills were the only place
you could drink it.

Oh, it's a spout, okay. That's
why it's called an espicha!

Yes, you get it.

Traditionally,
the party was to taste

the first cider of the season.

Oh my God, oh my. Oh my God!

I was like, where's he going?

But nowadays the Asturians
don't need an excuse.

Yeah.

- Oh!
- Cider master.

Ah!

With barrels this big,
we need some sizable snacks

and I can't get enough
of the succulent pork

with apple chutney
and hearty ham croquettes.

Perfect now.

Proving he really can
cook anywhere,

Pablo has prepared
Asturian chorizo

and cider tacos
with guacamole.

The food is ready!

As good as any in Mexico.

Oh my God.
- Wow.

That's the best pork
I've ever had. In my life.

It's good, huh?

The perfect combination.
Did you try the taco?

I'm excited to explore
this region through its food,

because it feels
like it says a lot.

Just looking at the landscape,
it takes your breath away.

You're just like,
"Where am I?"

- This is beautiful.
- Oh, you need to cut this.

I'm in heaven.

Cider, tacos, and an empanada
with my name on it.

Literally.

It could be the alcohol,

but I think I can feel
my Asturian blood

pumping through my veins.

Viva Asturias!

Now I understand
why it's called rural Paradise.

This is stunning .

Driving through Asturias'
limestone mountain range

feels otherworldly.

The 8,000 foot high peaks loom
through the mist,

easily rivaling the Alps or the
Dolomites in their grandeur.

This is the Picos de
Europa National Park,

near the mountain town
of Asiego.

For years
the mountains were home

to Asturias' mining industry,

the lifeblood
of the rural community.

Now, the mines
are closed,

but I'm on the scent
of another precious commodity

hidden deep in these hills,
just waiting to be unearthed.

Alejo.
- Hey, Eva.

Como estás?

- How are you?
- Good.

How are you?
- Very good.

Welcome to the land of cheese.

The land of cheese.
Do I get one of these?

- Yes, you will need it.
- I will? -Yes.

When it comes to dairy,
Asturias is the big cheese,

boasting the best quality milk
in Spain

and a cheese making industry
to rival France.

Oh, look at all the cows!

And I'm milking food journalist
Alejo for their secrets.

Hey, Rocio.

- Hola.
- Hola.

Rocio makes the
intensely tangy Cabrales,

considered to be one of the
world's greatest blue cheeses.

Crafted by hand,
it can only be made

on these mountains
from the cows

that feed on the
lush pasture here.

But it's not just
the conditions on top

of the mountain that give
the cheese its distinct flavor.

All the mountains are
limestone.

That means that inside
the mountains is full of caves.

And because Asturias has
a really rainy season,

all the rain is dripping inside
the caves and it's creating a...

Like a really humid
environment.

- You're right.
- For the cheese.

Legend has it that
the first Cabrales was created

when a farmer was distracted
by a shepherdess,

abandoned his milk in a cave,
and returned to find it

transformed into
delicious blue cheese.

However it began,

the cheese caves are
now so valuable

that they're passed
down through generations.

Wow.

Women always do things
better.

The art of cheese making

was traditionally more suited
for a woman

because it fit
around bringing up a family.

Oh my God,
so we have to put these on.

That's how dark it is in there?
- Yeah.

But this is challenging work.

Oh, I feel like a miner.

God, this isn't a cave
this is a hole!

I'm going down.

If this is Rocio's
regular commute,

this cheese must be
pretty special.

Oh, wow.

The mold doesn't get
only in the surface,

but it gets inside.

So we get Penicillium naturally.

The Penicillium that gives
the cheese its flavor

is a strain of the mold
that produces antibiotics.

Most blue cheeses have to
be injected with it,

but Cabrales caves grow
their own naturally.

Oh my God, look at that.

That's the penicillin?
The blue.

Okay.

Oh that's nice.

It's like salty.

Mm. This is so good!
Wow.

This is what I've
been doing wrong all my life.

I haven't been eating
Asturian blue cheese.

While Rocio is
in charge of the cheese making,

Pablo looks after the herd
on the hills.

And here in the home.

Oh my gosh.
Meat with cheese!

This is pure indulgence.

Rich Cabrales cheese
and cream sauce

generously poured
over juicy steak.

Let me get some of this.

Simple, but full of flavor.

Oh, wow.

I love that. It tastes like
tangy and umami.

Oh my gosh.

Rocio and Pablo's
hard work is paying off,

as their organic Cabrales

sells out as fast
as they can make it.

But although they have chosen
to continue the tradition

of their ancestors,
they are the exception,

as many young Asturians
are flocking to the cities.

What happens
if the tradition disappears?

It's taken passion
and perseverance

to turn this family tradition
into a modern artisan business.

And Rocio and Pablo

are leading the way as the new
generation of cheese makers.

I'm about to meet this
amazing singer, Rodrigo Cuevas.

They say he's a cross between
Freddie Mercury and Bob Dylan.

And he doesn't live
in a big city.

He lives in the
Asturian countryside.

Folk diva Rodrigo is one
of Spain's most influential

and provocative music stars,

combining classic
Asturian folk melodies

with contemporary
electronic music.

But he's also the front man for
a growing Asturian movement,

encouraging his followers
to embrace rural living.

There are over 600
abandoned villages in Asturias,

particularly around
the former mining areas

to the center and the south.

Here in Baselgas,
there are just eight residents.

This is beautiful.

Why did people leave these

beautiful houses
and countryside?

For decades, coal mining
powered Asturias'

rural economy and culture.

And as the industry boomed,
the region bustled with life.

But in the 1970s,

Spain began the move
towards renewable energy.

And from 100,000
miners in its heyday

the very last coal
mine recently closed.

Now, in some rural areas
of Asturias,

you're more likely to
encounter a bear

than someone
under the age of 16.

Yeah. And so what made
you want to move back?

Because I think
the city is so boring.

For those who do return
to the countryside,

it's an opportunity
to revive traditional farming.

Oh, wow.
This is beautiful.

The Xalda are one
of the oldest breeds in Spain,

but the rise of more
commercial herds

has left them on the edge
of extinction.

I was the black sheep
of my family.

- And me, too.
- I'm sure you were.

I feel like I'm
in a fairy tale.

Xandru.

The Xalda belonged to
Rodrigo's friends,

Paz and Xandru.

As well as filling
their bellies,

the sheep help Paz
to make a living,

knitting and weaving
traditional clothing.

Wow, it's so soft!

Their hórreo, or pantry,

is also packed full
of homemade sauces

and preserved foods.

This really is the definition
of farm to table living.

I love it. You're, like,
preserving culture.

Hola!

Of course, this DIY philosophy
extends to dinner.

On the menu? You guessed it--
Xalda lamb.

I think we all know
which liquid.

You can smell the cider.

It's already marinated.

- Four days!
- Wow!

Ah, these are all
my favorite veggies.

While the lamb simmers
in cider,

a sofrito of onion, peppers,
and leeks is fried off--

Is anybody else crying?

...before being tossed
into the pot,

along with a little more
of the good stuff.

See you in a couple of hours.

While the lamb braises,
I'm perfecting my escanciado.

Bravo!

Because what else would we
serve with the Xalda stew?

Look at that, it just
falls right off the bone.

Look at how juicy that is.

Wow.
That is the smoothest lamb.

Yeah. Oh yeah.
It's not fatty.

This call to action
won't suit everyone.

A rural lifestyle takes
serious grit.

But by living off the land,
Rodrigo and his friends

are developing a sustainable
gastronomy steeped in tradition

and one that happens
to be delicious.

That's so good.

To the south of Asturias,
the mountains are king,

but head north,

and it's this region's
250 miles of coastline

that reigns supreme.

The shallow and famously rough
seas of the Bay of Biscay

make the fishing village
of Viavélez

the place for Chef Elio
Fernández to hook a prize catch.

What Elio likes, unusually,
is grey mullet,

traditionally overlooked because

if not handled carefully,
it can have a muddy taste.

Elio is making waves
in Asturias,

fighting for the forgotten fish
and showcasing seafood

that is often discarded

to encourage
more sustainable fishing.

Elio's Michelin star
restaurant, Ferpel,

is now the place to try fish

previously considered undesirable,

like the grey mullet.

Oh! Wow!

But he's had to push
to make the change.

When Elio took over,

he swapped the standard
croquettes and calamari menu

for a more adventurous take
on local produce--

like this fun play on a taco

featuring caramelized pig's
trotter stew

crisped into a
tortilla shape,

filled with these small but
powerful Cantabrian prawns--

Mm!
Wow.

...that were once only
used as bait.

"You're gonna ruin the
restaurant!" Yeah.

Mm-hm.

Now, I love Asturias'
traditional rustic cuisine.

But there's something exciting
and fresh happening here.

The grey mullet.

The black sheep of the sea.

Gorse was traditionally used
in Asturias to heat bread ovens,

and the smokiness softens
the mullet's earthy taste.

By going against the grain
and serving the mullet

thinly sliced like sashimi,
drizzled with the smoky oil,

Elio has given it
a subtle new flavor.

Mm. It's so smooth and subtle.

Very tasty.

Elio's clever preparations
have breathed new life

into these unsung heroes,
like mullet and fish roe,

and netted the sustainable
seafood a boatload of new fans.

I feel like this dish perfectly
reflects the characteristics

of someone from Asturias.

Bravo!

If there's one name that
really puts Asturias

on the foodie map,
it's the Manzano family.

For over 30 years,
Nacho and his siblings

have pushed
gastronomic boundaries

with their innovative take on
traditional Asturian cuisine.

Their flagship restaurant,
Casa Marcial,

is set on the edge of
the Sueve Hunting Reserve,

part of an untouched
ancient forest,

and they recently won
their third Michelin star.

I've got a reservation
for lunch,

but first I have to catch it.

Asturias' medieval woodlands
have witnessed

hunters chasing prey
for more than a thousand years.

And this morning, I'm heading
to the Sueve Nature Reserve--

...with the youngest star of
this famous gastronomic family,

their Development Chef,
Chus.

- My friends.
- Hola!

Like me, Chus has hunting
in his blood.

His mentor was Grandpa Marcial,

who founded their
family restaurant.

Yeah. So that's why
you hunt jabalí?

- Yeah.
- Because there's just too many.

Sí, sí.

The jabalí, or wild boar,

has long made its home
in these woods,

happily living off
fallen hazelnuts and chestnuts.

But with no natural predators
and rural de-population,

there are now 80,000
of them running wild.

Where the pigs are.

- Of the pigs?
- Yeah.

Oh, yeah, I see them. Yeah.

Right there. So that's what
they're smelling, right?

These tenacious
Griffon hunting dogs

can track game
for five hours straight.

He's like, "I found it!"

He's saying, "Bingo!"

But thankfully, we don't
have to wait that long.

Okay.
Release the hounds!

Hy-ah! Hy-ah!

When I grew up in Texas,

hunting was really a way
of life.

My family,
we didn't do it for sport.

And I find that's
how it is here in Asturias.

You guys live on the land
you take from the land,

but you give back to the land.

And I think that's
a beautiful philosophy.

Yeah.

This deep rooted tradition

helps to keep
the wild boar in check.

It also provides
a valuable food source.

If you can catch it.

When they're barking like that,
they found a pig?

Yeah, they found it.

Today the wily boar got away.

But back at Casa Marcial,
Chus is cooking one

from a previous hunt.

And it's getting
the Michelin star treatment.

After hanging for
four days to days to mature,

it's lovingly marinated
in wine and herbs

before being sautéed with
onion, peppers, and garlic

to make a rich
traditional stew.

But these are the Manzanos,

so you know there's
going to be a twist.

The kitchen of creativity!

Yep, Chus has turned
the dish into an homage

to the boar itself.

The things
that he would destroy.

Exactly. Corn, beans,
walnuts, apples, mushrooms.

- The rampage of the jabalí.
- Exactly.

Okay. What do we start with?

I know how to use a knife.

Where did you learn this recipe?

And has your grandmother
eaten this recipe?

She does not approve of the
Of the Michelin star jabalí.

He might have some work
to do to impress Grandma,

but Chus is making his mark.

His latest addition to the dish
is homemade corn gnocchi.

Wow.

Ooh, the garden, yes!

Okay.

What a beautiful day.

Did you order this weather
for me?

I think I brought
this weather.

All right.

Mm!
That is exciting.

This jabalí is amazingly soft
and it's not gamey.

It's so good.

What was it like growing up
in the country

as opposed to growing up
in a big city?

They have to YouTube
how to fish.

- Yeah.
- How to fish?

Yeah, exactly.

Hunting has been part of
Asturian culture for centuries.

And in this dish,

Chus has managed
to find the perfect balance

between respecting the past
and embracing new inspiration.

I think the Manzano name is
in safe hands.

Muchas gracias, Chusi.

So today I am visiting my town,
literally my town,

the town of Longoria.

And the crazy thing is,

I wouldn't be here if it
wasn't for my ancestor Lorenzo,

who was just 11 years old

when he left his family behind
to travel to the Americas.

The Longoria lands stretch
three miles

along the Narcea River Valley.

And I'm headed
to Casa de Longoria,

just outside the town
of Longoria.

Incredibly, some of the
Longoria family still live here

11 generations later.

I get to visit long-lost family,

share stories, share history,
and of course, share food.

Luis and his mother, Marife,

are descendants of
the family Lorenzo left behind.

Okay,
I'm not expecting to move in,

but this palatial home
built on the site

of an even older Longoria
house,

has been in my family
for over 150 years.

Oh my God.

All of these photos,
are they my family?

The story goes that the
Longoria lands

were handed down to my
ancestors

by the kings of Asturias
in the eighth century.

Wow.

We might rub shoulders
with royalty.

Oh, my God,
this looks like a guest house!

When in Asturias, even the
nobles have to work the land.

The fava bean,
along with corn,

came over from the Americas
in the 16th century.

The lush river valley soil here

provided the perfect
growing conditions

and the Longorias
got rich cultivating it.

Look at this!

Fabada, Asturias'
signature dish,

is a deliciously rich stew
made with cured pork.

Okay.

Wow, it's so simple.

The rich flavor of fabada

comes from three types
of pork--

morcilla, ham, and chorizo.

Wow it's, like,
really smoked.

In this damp and humid
part of Spain,

meat is traditionally cured
with smoke,

giving it a taste
that's distinctively Asturian.

The secret to a great fabada

is to keep it simmering
for a couple of hours.

And I'm learning
a Longoria twist.

Oh, it makes it softer.

The fabada is served
family style,

with the meat and beans
plated separately.

And I can promise you,
it smells incredible.

And I get to share it
with my new family, including

Luis's girlfriend Sara,
and another relative, Antonio.

Oh my God, this smells so good.

Mm. Oh my gosh.

It's hard
to believe something so simple

can taste so delicious.

We scared them plenty,
so they'd be soft.

And to have
this ancestral connection

with my favorite Spanish dish
is very special.

Oh my God,
I love a family tree.

Oh, there I am at the bottom.

Wow. That's where it all
started for me.

How funny that I went
from Asturias all the way,

Mexico, Texas, United States,
and now...

I'm back in Spain.

Let me take a photo.
Let's take a photo.

Oh, this has been
such a homecoming for me.

I can't help
but imagine my ancestor Lorenzo

leaving this paradise.

And even though it's
physically a beautiful paradise,

it's very hard living.

And I've found the Asturian
people to be very resilient,

very hard working, but also
very humble, with no ego,

and it really shows
in their food.

¡Salud!
- ¡Salud!

¡Salud!

Asturias was always
in my blood,

but now it's in my heart.

It feels like I've come home.