How Gaig Singapore redefines authentic Catalan food with its new menu inspired by a medieval cookbook

It’s not the first time that the duo have come together to reinvent old recipes. Last year, Gaig Singapore also took inspiration from The Book of Sent Soví for another limited menu after discovering the ancient tome in preparation for the Science and Cooking World Congress in Barcelona. “We were encouraged to present a traditional dish infused with innovative cooking techniques,” Martinez says. “Drawing from our roots in classic Catalan cuisine, we delved into the origins of our culinary heritage. In our quest, we stumbled upon [The Book of] Sent Soví.” 

Armed with Gaig’s modern Catalan translation of the text, Martinez and Gaig set out to find recipes that they could breathe new life into at the restaurant. “Our approach was to retain the authenticity of the original recipes while adapting them to modern culinary techniques,” Martinez says. “It’s worth noting that the recipes in the book lacked precise measurements, serving more as a guide to ingredients rather than providing specific quantities. This required us to rely on our culinary intuition and expertise to recreate the dishes faithfully.”

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This year, the duo are also drawing inspiration from the llibre de totes maneres de potatges. “Within [its] pages, we encounter a wealth of diverse recipes, with an expanded focus on fish, seafood, and even cephalopods,” Martinez explains. “This broader spectrum of ingredients promises to offer an exciting array of flavours and textures.”

For instance, a dish that will feature on the menu is the sardine, pan-fried in chickpea tempura and served with a sauce crafted with honey, walnuts, hazelnuts, cloves and vinegar. The sauce is made of ingredients that were once considered luxurious during the Roman times, travelling through the Silk Road before arriving on the Iberian peninsula. In fact, a closer inspection of the recipes reveals that by the 14th century, Catalan cuisine had already been influenced by its neighbours in the Mediterranean and the Middle East, from ancient Greece and Rome to the Ottoman Empire.

This mix of cultures problematises a common view of authenticity—one that understands “authentic cuisine” to be influenced by a singular local and national food culture. It would, however, be easy to assume that the recipes in the Catalan cookbooks are truly authentic ones, seemingly untainted by forces of globalisation, trade, and imperialism, before colonialist conquistadors introduced now-important ingredients such as tomatoes and peppers to the region. In this view, authenticity is a project in stasis, where traditional recipes are almost cryogenically frozen in time and fiercely protected. 

But refusing to see how cuisines are influenced by each other can materialise in the form of gastronationalism, a concept developed by sociologist Michaela DeSoucey to describe how food is used as a way of affirming national identity and nationalist sentiments. Think the never-ending food war between Singapore and Malaysia about where certain iconic hawker dishes come from, or the outrage of Italians when you cook pasta wrong. Who are we to say that Spanish and Catalan cuisine with tomatoes and peppers is inauthentic?

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For sure, food has the incredible power to represent national and cultural identity, but to turn your face away from its range of influences would be reductive. “The Mediterranean coast is a tapestry of diverse cultures and contrasts, yet it shares a common thread in its abundance of produce,” Gaig explains with respect to Catalan cuisine. “Despite varying cultural influences shaped by factors like religion or climate, each culture has drawn from this shared wealth of ingredients, creating their own unique culinary contrasts and flavours.” 

Take, for instance, the French fricassée and the Catalan fricandó. The fricassée braises whole cutlets of meat in a sauce that’s often thickened with cream, while the fricandó braises thinly sliced pieces of meat, then thickened with a roux instead. “While they share a common origin, their execution and flavours vary significantly, reflecting the distinctive culinary styles of each region,” Gaig says. It is this adaptation of recipes to “suit the local style and available produce” that makes each recipe authentic to each region, developing traditions along the way that will continue to change over time.

Gaig brings up the classic beef stew as an example. “Originally prepared with apples, over time, potatoes were introduced, seamlessly enhancing the dish while preserving its intrinsic character,” he says. “Despite the incorporation of new ingredients, the essence of this culinary tradition remains steadfast.” In short, the recipes are never static. 

To Martinez, two things are able to coexist: the “dynamic nature of culinary traditions, where what is considered authentic can shift over generations”, and the necessity of chefs to respect and understand the “roots” of a cuisine to “preserve its identity and integrity”. “As many chefs rightly emphasise, innovation in cooking is built upon a foundation of tradition. Without a deep appreciation for culinary heritage, there can be no meaningful advancement or creativity in the kitchen,” he insists. 

What is Gaig’s exclusive menu all about, then? It’s not a nostalgic look at the traditions of the past. It’s not an attempt to decolonise Catalan cuisine. It is an inquisitive look back on what came before as a starting point to look ahead. 

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