Image caption Chef Jamie Oliver, and how paella should be done (according to the Valencians) 
 
 British chef Jamie Oliver has posted his version of paella online, although it seems unlikely many Spaniards will be reaching for their pans soon. 
 
 "Good Spanish food doesn't get much better than paella. My version combines chicken thighs & chorizo," he tweeted. 
 
 An "abomination" wrote one user. "That thing ain't paella," wrote another, with the inclusion of chorizo proving particularly controversial. 
 
 He has previously drawn flak for his take on West African dish Jollof rice. 
 
 There are countless recipes for paella, which originates in Valencia and involves rice plus ingredients such as rabbit, seafood, snails and artichokes. 
 
 But traditionalists have very clear ideas about what should and shouldn't go into it. 
 
 "The abuses committed in the name of Paella Valenciana, are excessive - an authentic scandal," Catalan author Josep Pla once wrote. 
 
 The website Wikipaella, which aims to promote authentic paella, lists golden rules for the dish, including only using Spanish rice. And chorizo is definitely a no-no. 
 
 This is what people thought of Jamie Oliver's 'version' 
 
 Image copyright @jamieoliver 
 
 Image copyright @anagemidos 
 
 Image copyright @llim0na 
 
 Others offered their takes on the classics 
 
 Image copyright @bajoelbillete 
 
 Image copyright @SuperPilopi 
 
 Image copyright @proscojoncio 
 
 'Your dish is everything but paella' 
 
 Image copyright @biheta 
 
 Image copyright @betinaserrano ||||| Paella is a Spanish rice dish that includes different combinations of vegetables and meats, characteristically seasoned with saffron, but also has other spices depending on the recipe and area in Spain it comes from. Etymology The dish Paella is said to to be a perfect union between 2 cultures from Spain , the Romans, for the pan and the Arab, that brought rice. There is an old story of how the Moorish kings' servants created rice dishes by mixing the left-overs from royal banquets in large pots to take home. It is said by some that that word paella originates from the Arab word “baqiyah” meaning left-overs.The term Paella actually refers to the pan that it is cooked in. All the way back to the ancient Sanskrit language the term Pa means …to drink, and the Roman culture from the latin made words like Patera, Patina , Patella which could mean a container to drink, or perform other culinary functions. It would seem a natural dish, since rice is grown in Spain, and all meats, and seafood in some regions are plentiful, that this dish would be a natural. Since there are many workers in the fields, cooking it over an open fire also would be the most practical. Spain is not known for forests and lots of timber, so the small available twigs and branches from pruning that are green gave a quick hot fire instead of a slow burning one from logs. 
 
 So the size of the pan grew instead of the depth, so you could get a hot fire a maximum evaporation. Most experts agree that the dish was developed in the Spanish city of Valencia. Valencia is where the Romans introduced irrigation and then the Arab conquerors that brought rice, prefected it. Many folks say the best Paella and most authentic still comes from Valencia. Also in Islamic Andalusia Spain symbolic dishes with rice and different meats and vegetables like a casserole were cooked for special occasions. Some of these dishes may be the roots of some of the Paella recipes. 
 
 The Special Pan The Paella pan is characterized by being round with a flat bottom. 
 
 The pan can be anywhere from a LP record 12 inches in diameter to several feet. The one thing that doesn't change is the height. It is about first joint in the thumb deep as the Spanish would say, so that the rice has maximum contact with the bottom of the pan. courtesy of the culture bite It evolved this way, starting with a rounded bottom, designed to hang over a fire. My guess is that as soon as some sort of grill or flat top burner was invented that the pans started to become more flat bottomed. I use to think when looking at Paella that it was just the Spanish version of Jambalaya, or the Italian Risotto. While there are similarities they really are quite different. Traditionally Jambalaya is cooked in a round pot over a fire, and Paella is cooked in a flat pan over high heat. Why the dimples in the pan ? 
 
 
 
 Good question. The dimples serve several functions. They trap small amounts of liquid and thus promote even cooking, they make the pan rigid, and they prevent warping. They're also a nostalgic reminder of the days when paella pans were hand hammered. Some people claim that the dimples keep the rice from sticking to the pan, but I'm (Sarah Jay) not convinced. For one thing, rice sticking to the bottom of the pan is not something you want to avoid, since it helps foster one of the most succulent and seductive aspects of paella, something called socarrat ( the crusty bottom layer of rice) Cooking Paella over Fire The Paella traditionally is cooked over an open fire. The Mediterranean is known for developing the art of frying, because of the lack of good slow burning firewood. The available branches were of high acid content that made a very hot fire. The Rice Two types of rice of Spain is small rounded medium size grains that absorb the flavors and stock well, but keep their shape. This is different than the rice for Risotto that breaks up a bit and develops a creamy texture. The most popular rice is Bomba rice. The Meats and Vegetables 
 
 
 
 Depending on the region in Spain , the meats and vegetables added to the Paella vary. Paella can have several or no meats in it, here are a few of the traditional ones. Rabbit, or chicken, snails, Spanish smoked sausage like Chorizo. Snails are common. Seafood can be shrimp, mussels, clams, lobster and crab. 
 
 Vegetables 
 
 onions and garlic are a must, and very often you will see fresh peas or beans as a garnish. 
 
 Artichoke quarters and red bell peppers are often used. The Seasonings. Saffron is seen on every Paella recipe that I have looked at. It gives not only a nice background flavor that is earthy, but a nice color. Garlic is a must and often you see Spanish paprika, many chefs recommend the smoked paprika. The Style it is Eaten in Paella is served family style traditionally in Spain on a round table with the pan in the center. Usually eaten right out of the pan and not on plates. This way you don't over mix the congealed structure of the rice too much by agitation. Each guest starts at the perimeter of the Paella and works toward the center. Lemon wedges to accent the flavor. Recipe for Seafood Paella Come into my kitchen and let's make Seafood Paella 
 
 with Step by Step Pictures Links The Culture Bite Introduction to Paella by about.com Paella Pans website Kitchen Kapers The Historical Food of Islamic Spain 
 
 ||||| Tweet with a location 
 
 You can add location information to your Tweets, such as your city or precise location, from the web and via third-party applications. You always have the option to delete your Tweet location history. Learn more ||||| It's something of a mid-week staple round at my place. Easier than risotto, and with no need for all that stock-stirring nonsense. Just fry up a bit of onion and garlic, add a few chunks of chorizo, chuck in some chicken, or prawns, or both, and some short-grain rice – Spanish if you've got it, or whatever else comes to hand. Then cover with stock and a bit of saffron (optional), and 20 minutes or so later, you've got a lovely paella. 
 
 Only you haven't. According to the traditionalists, my slipshod approximation of Valencia's famous regional dish is an abomination, and exactly the kind of thing that a brave band of paella preservationists is up in arms about. Horrified by the dismal bastardisations of their local speciality which are passing for the real thing, they're campaigning to tell the world about the true Valencian paella. 
 
 Have a look at their website, Wikipaella.org, and you'll see that these paell-activists can get surprisingly heated on the subject. There's a 10-point manifesto, which moves from the stern, 'We publicly condemn infringements made against authentic paella, especially within the community of Valencia/Spain' to the emotional, 'We carry the paella in our hearts and we travel with it as far as possible'. 
 
 There's a map, too, which identifies the umpteen local varieties of paella in the Valencia region of Spain's Mediterranean coast. The ingredients vary from village to village and season by season. But one thing is clear: none of them contains chorizo. 
 
 To atone for my sins, I've made the pilgrimage to the birthplace of paella, Valencia, to seek enlightenment from one of Wikipaella's founders, Guillermo Navarro. Over a couple of days spent in and around the city, I will discover what I, Jamie Oliver and the rest of the paella-traducing world have been doing wrong. Which, it seems, is pretty much everything. The one rule about paella club, as I will learn, is that there are a LOT of rules about paella. 
 
 I'd barely touched down in Valencia when my paell-education began. Guillermo is waiting for me armed with an itinerary and an apostolic gleam in his eye. A neatly-bearded ad man in his mid-thirties, he returned to his native Valencia after working in New York, and was struck by how many dodgy versions of his beloved local dish were being peddled around the city and in the rest of Spain. 
 
 How to make the perfect paella 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 + show all How to make the perfect paella 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1/9 How to make the perfect paella Guillermo Navarro set up Wikipaella after eating in an apparently traditional Valencian restaurant in Madrid that served 'horrible' paella Xavier Cervera/Panos Pictures 
 
 2/9 How to make the perfect paella Arroceria 'las Bairetas' is a family-run business where they do things the old-fashioned way Xavier Cervera/Panos Pictures 
 
 3/9 How to make the perfect paella The four Margós brothers still cook their paellas over wood, using only local ingredients Xavier Cervera/Panos Pictures 
 
 4/9 How to make the perfect paella Weighing out the senia rice, which is starchier, but harder to cook than the more usually prized bomba Xavier Cervera/Panos Pictures 
 
 5/9 How to make the perfect paella Essential paella ingredients and tools Xavier Cervera/Panos Pictures 
 
 6/9 How to make the perfect paella The brothers cook on a medieval furnace lined with wood-burning fires, each with a pan bubbling away over it Xavier Cervera/Panos Pictures 
 
 7/9 How to make the perfect paella A sweating chef tends each paella, one adding salt, another tossing in a branch of rosemary, a third weighing out rice on an ancient set of scales Xavier Cervera/Panos Pictures 
 
 8/9 How to make the perfect paella Paco Alonso and Guillermo Navarro, the founders of Wikipaella, sailing in Palmar Xavier Cervera/Panos Pictures 
 
 9/9 How to make the perfect paella Tracey MacLeod tucks into a Las Bairetas paella Xavier Cervera/Panos Pictures 
 
 Wikipaella was born after a friend took him out to eat in Madrid, in an apparently traditional restaurant decorated with Valencian flags. "Normally, we Valencians don't eat paella outside our city, but they were selling it as traditional. The paella was just horrible. The rice was awful – Chinese rice flavoured with a stock cube. It contained peas, carrots, mushrooms. NO! Those things don't belong in paella. And the place was full of tourists – Japanese, Americans – who'd come to Spain looking for traditional paella. It was such a bad experience, I decided I needed to do something to show what a real paella should be." 
 
 Now he's going to do exactly that for me. As we talk through Guillermo's itinerary, it's clear that, were I to follow it to the letter, I'd be eating four or five paellas a day over a two-day period. Thankfully, true Valencians never eat paella at night – that's really the mark of a rube, like drinking a cappuccino after lunch in Rome. 
 
 So after intense negotiations, we hone my research trip down to two paella-based lunches. On day one, we'll stay in the city, to sample an authentic seafood paella at a beachside restaurant. And on day two, Guillermo will take me and my 13-year-old son deep into paella country, to try what he believes to be a truly authentic version of the dish, cooked over wood fires as it has been for more than a century. 
 
 Paco Alonso and Guillermo Navarro, the founders of Wikipaella, sailing in Palmar (Xavier Cervera/Panos Pictures) 
 
 Paella 1: Casa Ripoll 
 
 We're allowed to branch off on our own for Paella One. Valencia, like its better-known northerly cousin Barcelona, is a wonderful city to walk around, the centre a maze of twisty streets and alleys. On every corner there's another come-hither tapas bar or a horchateria offering the local speciality, a creamy sweetened drink made with tiger nuts. It would be easy to lose yourself for a weekend here, but there's another attraction on the edge of town – miles of pristine Mediterranean beaches, lined with restaurants and cafés. 
 
 A short bus ride from our hotel and we're sitting in a restaurant on Malvarossa beach, me with a glass of apricot Valencian wine in hand. Our walk here has taken us past umpteen deserted off-season restaurants, all of them offering versions of paella and other local dishes such as arroz negro. It's clear why the Wikipaellans are concerned. How does a novice identify the ones which are doing it properly, rather than popping something into the microwave? 
 
 Casa Ripoll (casaripoll.com) is one of 170 restaurants in the area that have earned the Wikipaella seal of approval, and can proudly display their accreditation. From the eight varieties of paella on offer, including rabbit and duck, monkfish and clams, and lobster, we choose their speciality, paella marinera. Following true Valencian tradition, it contains only local seafood; strictly no meat or vegetables. There is, however, a 'mixta' version with chicken and seafood lurking at the bottom of the list, presumably for tourists. 
 
 Essential paella ingredients and tools (Xavier Cervera/Panos Pictures) 
 
 While our paella is cooked to order, we feast on squid fried with wild garlic, airy salt-cod fritters, and a grilled red pepper salad with cured tuna loin, slightly taking the edge off our appetites. Then it's paella time. It arrives at the table in the pan (also called a paella) and our waiter offers to serve us, but he won't catch us out like that. We will eat it the Valencian way, directly from the paella, though we do use cutlery, rather than the tradition wooden spoon. 
 
 Dark brownish-orange in colour, and jewelled with plump pink prawns and amber tangles of squid, this looks nothing like the pallid sludge I served my son earlier in the week. What's striking is how thinly the rice is spread; no more than a shiny, sticky grain thick. Stirring is strictly forbidden during the cooking process, so the rice sticks to the pan, and is toasted to a crunch round the edges. But far from drying out, it has a satisfying, al dente bounce, each grain completely distinct. Dark, intense and very, very salty, it's totally addictive, and we end up chipping away at the black, crusty bits which cling to the bottom of the pan. 
 
 It soon becomes clear why paella is a lunchtime dish. Abandoning our plans to visit Valencia's futuristic aquarium and science museum, we have no option but to take a recovery siesta, in preparation for the next day's round of Gringo vs Paella. 
 
 Arroceria 'las Bairetas' is a family-run business where they do things the old-fashioned way (Xavier Cervera/Panos Pictures) 
 
 Paella 2: Arroceria 'las Bairetas' 
 
 Like true Valencians, we shun breakfast in favour of almuerzo, the mid-morning snack, which we take al fresco in the Jardin del Turia, the sunken park which runs through the centre of the city. Created from the river bed when the Rio Turia was diverted to prevent flooding, this 11-kilometre expanse of beautifully landscaped gardens, spanned by ancient bridges, stretches all the way to the ocean. 
 
 No time to explore, though; we're on a paella mission. We head to the Central Market, a beautiful Art Deco cathedral of vaulted stained glass, surrounded by ferreterias selling paella pans. Inside, it's a warren of swinging hams, meticulously aligned seafood and camera-ready fruit apparently arranged by the world's greatest food stylist. 
 
 Thinking ahead to my next home-made paella, I buy local saffron from a stall whose owner is keen to show me a certificate of purity, and sacks of bomba rice, the most prized of the local varieties. Bent double under his backpack, my son pleads with me not buy a paella pan the size of a satellite dish. A flagrant breach, in my view, of article 10 of the Wikipaella manifesto: 'We carry the paella in our hearts and we travel with it as far as possible'. 
 
 The four Margós brothers still cook their paellas over wood, using only local ingredients (Xavier Cervera/Panos Pictures) 
 
 That afternoon's expedition with Guillermo takes us 20kms inland, to the small town of Chiva. It's way off the tourist trail, but Guillermo is effusive about the local restaurant, Arroceria 'las Bairetas' (lasbairetas.com), a family-run business where they do things the old-fashioned way. Even in the paella heartland, the most authentic restaurants have long since switched to gas. But here, the four Margós brothers still cook their paellas over wood, using only local ingredients. 
 
 I'm expecting a picturesque village, but Chiva is a small working town. Las Bairetas sits in an unprepossessing strip of light-industrial buildings, sandwiched between the main road and a railway track. Proudly indicating the Wikipaella sticker on the door, Guillermo leads us into a minimal all-white dining room, its tables crisply naped, which is the very opposite of rustic. In the gleaming kitchen, a young chef is drizzling sauces from squeezy bottles on to intricately-worked desserts. Can this really be the home of Valencia's most authentic paella? 
 
 But behind the kitchen there's the paella kitchen, a medieval furnace lined with wood-burning fires, each with a pan bubbling away over it. A sweating chef tends each paella, one adding salt, another tossing in a branch of rosemary, a third weighing out rice on an ancient set of scales. 
 
 The brothers cook on a medieval furnace lined with wood-burning fires, each with a pan bubbling away over it (Xavier Cervera/Panos Pictures) 
 
 Boss Rafa, the oldest of the four Margós brothers who work here, talks me through the two-hour process which goes into each paella. Key to the whole thing is the rice; here they use senia, starchier, but harder to cook than the more usually prized bomba (which I've invested so heavily in). Most of the paellas simmering away are the classic summer variety, containing rabbit and chicken, Valencian tomatoes, flat green ferradura beans and lima beans, but a couple of well-padded workmen drop by to collect a duck and mushroom version they've ordered, taking it away in the pan. Mercifully, snails, the other traditional ingredient, are out of season. 
 
 We escape the broiling kitchen, which can reach 60 degrees when all 143 paellas are fired up at once, for the cool, white-tiled restaurant. When the paella arrives, it's notably dry, but swoony and rich, with a breath of smoke and rosemary running through it. Each grain of rice has bite, and the rabbit is sweet, though the bony nuggets present a challenge to the younger diner. Best of all is the umami crunch of the socarrat, the black crust that sticks to the bottom of the pan. "Valencian caviar," Guillermo smiles proudly. 
 
 Our paella pilgrimage ends with a visit to the true heart of paella country, the village of El Palmar, by the coast on Lake Albufera. It's this weird, watery landscape of palm trees, orange groves and rice fields which spawned the earliest paella-eaters, rice-cultivating fishermen who would go out in their flat-bottomed boats to tend their crops, lifting their eel nets along the way. Now Palmar is a magnet for city folk and tourists, its two small streets lined with 36 restaurants, all serving more or less the same dishes. 
 
 A sweating chef tends each paella, one adding salt, another tossing in a branch of rosemary, a third weighing out rice on an ancient set of scales (Xavier Cervera/Panos Pictures) 
 
 On Sunday lunchtimes, when paella is traditionally eaten, the place is mobbed, with up to 5,000 Valencians and tourists descending. But on a mid-week afternoon, it's deserted. Waiting on a jetty by the lake is a smartly-dressed media gent – Paco Alonso, the other driving force behind Wikipaella. He has set up a surprise for us, a trip round the lake aboard a 150-year-old Latin-sailed punt, captained by Victor, a fourth-generation Palmar fisherman. 
 
 As we pootle around between the paddy fields, the smell of orange blossom drifting over the still water, I'm amazed to see the cranes and tower blocks of industrial Valencia rising in the distance, so unchanging does the landscape feel. Paco, an author and food personality with his own show on TVE, tells us about the origins of paella, which dates back only to the mid-19th century, with the rise of the metal industry. 
 
 As he and Guillermo talk, I'm struck by the shared passion which has brought these two urbane, well-travelled Spaniards together, to leave their offices for the afternoon and drift around on a boat, enthusing about paella. What's clear is that it's not just a food thing. For the Wikipaella founders, the campaign is political, driven by fierce local pride. They're pushing for official backing to turn the campaign into a not-for-profit foundation. 
 
 Tracey MacLeod tucks into a Las Bairetas paella (Xavier Cervera/Panos Pictures) 
 
 "Valencia doesn't have the same confidence as Catalunya," Guillermo tells me. "Our food culture is as vibrant as theirs. We should be promoting our food, paella, and our drink, horchata. It's not just about food. It's about tradition, community, unity." 
 
 I know the Wikipaella message has taken root when, on the way home, I spot a dismal, fluorescent paella, topped with fraying chicken and curling squid, coagulating under a heat lamp in the airport café. To the confusion of the queue, I snap a paellfie in front of it, to add to the Wikipaella hall of shame. 
 
 Having tasted the real thing, I can't imagine being tempted to eat this solidifying facsimile. Mind you, now that I know all the rules, I don't think I'll ever be able to cook a paella at home again. 
 
 Tracey MacLeod travelled with Kirker Holidays. A three-night stay at the Westin Valencia costs from £534 pp (two sharing), including accommodation with breakfast, return private transfers, entrance to the City of Arts and Sciences, and Kirker's guide notes. Call Kirker Holidays on 020-7593 2283, kirkerholidays.com 
 
 Recipe from Arroceria 'Las Bairetas' 
 
 Serves 4 
 
 60ml olive oil 
 
 20g salt 
 
 150g chicken legs and thighs 
 
 150g rabbit legs and ribs 
 
 120g green beans 
 
 40g striped tomatoes 
 
 60g lima beans (garrofó), frozen or fresh and boiled 
 
 5g smoked paprika 
 
 2ltrs water 
 
 1g saffron 
 
 1 branch of fresh rosemary 
 
 420g Valencian rice (bomba or senia) 
 
 1. Put the oil and salt in the paella pan and fry the chicken and rabbit on medium heat for approx 20 minutes. 
 
 2. Add the green beans and tomatoes (cut into finger-sized pieces), and cook for 5 minutes; then add the paprika and fill the pan almost to reach the iron nails. When it comes to the boil, add the garrofó. 
 
 3. Cook until all the water has gone, then reduce the heat and add more water, again almost up to the iron nails. 
 
 4. Taste the broth, add more salt if needed, add the saffron and turn the heat high. 
 
 5. Add the rice and the fresh rosemary for just 3 minutes and then remove it. 
 
 6. Cook over a high heat for 10 minutes, then turn down the heat slowly and cook for a further 20 minutes, until the water is no longer evident. 
 
 7. Leave the paella to stand for 5 minutes then eat straight from the pan. 
 
 The 10 Golden Rules of Authentic Valencian Paella 
 
 1. Don't mix seafood and meat. And only use seafood if by the sea. 
 
 2. True Valencian paella is made with rabbit, chicken and green beans in the summer, duck and artichoke in the winter. 
 
 3. No garlic. No peas. No potatoes. No stock. NO CHORIZO. 
 
 4. Only use Spanish rice, preferably Valencian bomba or senia. 
 
 5. Cook over wood, for that authentic smoky flavour. 
 
 6. On no accounts, stir. The rice should stick to the pan. 
 
 7. Oh, and that pan should be an authentic paella. Not a frying pan. And definitely not a wok. 
 
 8. Eat it straight from the pan, preferably using a wooden spoon. At lunchtime only. 
 
 9. If it's served in a portion for one, it isn't the real thing, it's been frozen and reheated. Or it's from Vesta. 
 
 10. For ultra-authenticity, it should only be cooked by a man. A Spanish man. In Valencia. 
 
 en.wikipaella.org ||||| Television chef Jamie Oliver has inadvertently angered hundreds of people – most of them Spanish – by posting a link to a unorthodox paella recipe on his Twitter account. 
 
 “Good Spanish food doesn’t get much better than paella,” the innocuous-seeming tweet read. “My version combines chicken thighs & chorizo.” It included a link to a web page hosting the full recipe. ||||| Famed British chef Jamie Oliver clearly hasn’t been paying attention to the headlines this week. If he had been, he would never have incited a new Anglo-Spanish war over one of the Iberian nation’s oldest recipes. 
 
 After an early summer shock over the Brexit vote, things had calmed down some. As summer carried on, Spaniards went to Britain, and enjoyed the rain with an occasional splash of sunshine. Brits came to Spain — many are homeowners here — and enjoyed the food, the sun, the beaches. Even if it was made slightly more expensive by a weaker British pound, it was all good. 
 
 But this week saw a renewal of tension after the U.K. prime minister declared there would be no gently backing away from membership in the European Union. 
 
 As Brexit fears pushed the pound to levels not seen since 1985, Oliver ushered in a sideline skirmish over one of Spain’s most beloved dishes. 
 
 Jamie Oliver mixing rice with chicken and chorizo. This is not paella. This is "Arroz con cosas". 😤 https://t.co/05vmQapJeX — Diestro (@diestro123_) October 4, 2016 
 
 Yes, Oliver has gone and tampered with paella, a dish that has been a Spanish staple since rice was introduced to the country by Muslims from Africa some 1,200 years ago. His weapon of choice? Chorizo, Spanish sausage that is smoked, with a sweet or spicy flavor, or fresh. Oliver included it in a dish he called “chicken and chorizo paella” and posted it as his recipe of the day. 
 
 Chorizo is used in stews and soups or fried and served on bread. But never, according to the Spanish foodies on Twitter, is it used in paella. 
 
 Oliver is a bit of a serial offender when it comes to messing with national dishes, including the time two years ago when he angered West Africans with his version of the traditional jollof rice. Paella is also a rice-based dish, so a conclusion might be drawn that Oliver feels liberties can be taken in the rice field. 
 
 Paella is a humble dish that started as a food for farmhands in Valencia, cooked in a giant flat pan over an open fire, with rice, tomatoes, onions, plus snails, rabbit, duck or chicken, according to the Paella Company., a U.K.-based business. (Yes, U.K.) Then dish expanded beyond the coastal region of Valencia, and soon seafood became a standard ingredient. As the Paella Company points out, a “true” Paella Vallenciana has no seafood, but rather green and white beans with rabbit and snails. 
 
 Chorizo is notably not mentioned, but, hey, the Paella Company happens to have a recipe called Chicken, Chorizo & Roasted Red Pepper Paella, so why is everyone upset with Oliver? Because, unless it’s the real deal, you can’t call it paella. Think of the French and their jealous guarding of the Champagne brand. 
 
 Regardless, the social-media schooling of Oliver went down faster than you could say, ¡Qué barbaridad! 
 
 Argument Numero Uno: Chorizo ruins the taste of paella: 
 
 @jamieoliver The britified version of paella. As far as I know, we don't put chorizo in a paella. It takes over all the flavours. — Joanfihu (@joanfihu) October 4, 2016 
 
 It’s “arroz con cosas” (rice with things), not paella, with Oliver’s recipe: 
 
 Hello @jamieoliver come to Valencia to try the real paella and stop making "rice with whatever". Your dish is everything but paella. — Vicent Marco (@Vicent_Marco) October 4, 2016 
 
 @jamieoliver Thanks for destroying our most famous recipe. Please, don't use the word "paella" to describe rice with random stuff — Francesc Alonso (@Pacosimat) October 4, 2016 
 
 And yes, inevitably, lines were drawn between Brexit and the paella incident, such as this Twitter post that labeled Oliver’s paella the first consequence of Brexit: 
 
 La paella de Jamie Oliver es la primera consecuencia del Brexit. — Mr.Ramone (@joey_ramone_sp) October 4, 2016 
 
 Or this tweet indicating that while speeding up Brexit was fine, Oliver’s so-called paella was definitely not OK: 
 
 Vale que Gran Bretaña quiera acelerar lo del Brexit... lo de Jamie Oliver y su "paella" me parece excesivo — Kellyyyyyyy!!!! (@Maxxx_Powerr) October 4, 2016 
 
 Some could not control their rage: “It’s one thing to eat chorizos in Valencia, but it’s another to toss them in the paella. We’re coming for you, Jamie Oliver.” 
 
 Una cosa es tener chorizos en Valencia y otra echarlos a la paella. Vamos a por ti Jamie Oliver. — Dios (@Sr_Dios) October 4, 2016 
 
 Some bravely tried to lighten the mood on Twitter, with a nod to the strain that the Brexit vote has already created in the relationship between the U.K. and continental Europe. But it looked like the healing might take some time:
– Jamie Oliver has managed to "offend a whole nation," Stuff.co.nz reports—and he did it with pork sausage. The celebrity chef posted on Twitter what the Telegraph calls an "unorthodox" recipe for paella—a hodgepodge of rice, meats, veggies, and spices—incurring the wrath of Spanish culinary experts across the Internet. "Good Spanish food doesn't get much better than paella. My version combines chicken thighs & chorizo," Oliver cheerfully tweeted Tuesday. The Naked Chef's crime: including the chorizo, which is apparently frowned upon by many who don't consider the sausage-leaning version an authentic Spanish dish. Reaction was spicier than the meat he threw into his inadvertently insulting concoction. "Thanks for destroying our most famous recipe," one user commented, while another noted, "Your paella is an abomination," per the Telegraph. The BBC points readers to Wikipaella, a site dedicated to real-deal paella, whose founder once listed the dish's "golden rules" for the Independent, including using only Spanish rice and "No garlic. No peas. No potatoes. No stock. NO CHORIZO." (The rules also indicate that, for "ultra-authenticity," paella should only be cooked by men, specifically Spanish ones from Valencia, so take those rules for what they're worth.) MarketWatch notes that Oliver is something of a "serial offender": A couple of years back, his jollof rice recipe irritated West Africans. (The BBC offers a defense of chorizo-filled paella.)