One cold rainy Sunday, not long after I moved to Spain, Nacho, my then-boyfriend, took me to a tiny whitewashed village on a back road between Málaga and Granada. He parked the car in an infinitely tiny space, as only Spaniards can, and then proceeded to wander up and down the hill, carefully inspecting each of the doors of the homes in the street.
Eventually, he said “I think it’s this one”. My Spanish was terrible, so I couldn’t even ask what he was looking for.
He knocked on the door and a buxom, apron-clad abuela opened it.
She blankly stared out at us, before asking “Sí?”
Nacho asked if we could come in. (I figured that out much later)
“Sí” came the one-word reply.
She lead us into her home, past the kitchen, with huge pots of deliciousness bubbling away on the stove, down a long thin hallway into her dining room. There was a young family and another couple sitting at different tables, all eating big bowls of the most incredible smelling food.
Abuela half nodded towards a table in the corner of the room, beside the open fireplace. Without saying a word, she plonked a bowl of olives, a rustic chunk of crusty bread and a carafe of red wine in front of us.
Utterly confused, I asked what on earth was going on.
“We’re having lunch” came the obvious reply.
“Is this your grandma’s house?”
Nacho looked confused. “No?”
I was none the wiser.
Moments later, without any fanfare or fuss, a huge platter arrived. It looked like fried bread crumbs, but I had never tasted breadcrumbs like these. They tasted rich. Meaty. With the distinct aroma of garlic. And that unmistakeable flavour of olive oil straight off the production line.
My mind was blown.
Next, a platter piled high with morcilla, chorizo and jamón arrived. Much later, I discovered it was ‘pringá’, a variety of meats slow cooked for hours and hours to flavour the migas.
There was enough food to feed a small village on the table in front of us. (I’ve never met an abuela who didn’t like to overfeed anyone who was lucky enough to end up in her house).
Later, as I finished my crema catalana with my cafe con leche, I knew I would never forget this experience.
What I didn’t know, was that it had the power to change the trajectory of my life.
Within a couple of years, I could hardly string a sentence together in English. My parents were calling daily to ask when I would be coming home to Australia. And I was happier than ever. I knew I was there to stay.
One evening, after at least a drink or two too many, a good mate and I came up with a business plan. The premise was simple: I would show people a side of Spain they would never get to see otherwise. They would taste the first of the season’s olive oil straight off the press. Abuela would cook for them, in her tiny, random restaurant. They would experience the Spanish way of life. The good life, as I like to call it. The one where you prioritise quality time with your family and friends (over a long lunch, of course!). And I would use my language skills to get them into experiences that even money couldn’t buy.
And that is how Biznaga came to be.
Nearly 20 years later, this remains our ethos. We give you a taste of ‘la buena vida’. We craft holidays that allow you to savour the moment and fall into the warm embrace of Spain. And we open a window into a world others don’t get to see.
We’d love to share this side of Spain with you!
In Málaga, from early spring until late autumn, the subtle aroma of jasmine fills the air. It is most noticeable early in the morning, or late in the evenings, but it’s always there.
Centuries ago, when the Moors inhabited Spain, they too fell in love with the jasmine that grows so abundantly. They created ‘La Biznaga’, which meant ‘gift from the gods’, to perfume their homes.
The tradition continues to this day, and one of my favourite things is to come across a ‘Biznaguero’, dressed in his white shirt, black pants and red cummerbund, carrying a tray of ‘Biznaga Malagueñas’. You can smell the sweet perfume long before you see him coming.
I love how this video captures the tradition and care that goes into crafting each Biznaga.
Our company shares this beautiful flower’s namesake for many reasons. The most important is that every Biznaga is lovingly hand crafted, just like our holidays. We take great pride in ensuring you get to see a side of Spain you wouldn’t normally have access too. La Biznaga Malagueña is a wonderful example of how we bring this ethos to life for you.
