Trevor Felch
Squid with Sherry Sauce at Seville Tapas in Half Moon Bay
Clean the squid. Rip its head off. Squeeze the black ink out of the sack. Snap the tentacles off, slice them, and stuff them back into the squid's body. This is the labor-intensive recipe for the squid with sherry sauce at Half Moon Bay’s slice of Spain,
Seville Tapas.
The preparation is a riff on a relatively unknown tapa called
calamares rellenos. While most tapas bars would call it a day by just grilling squid on the plancha and spritzing it with some lemon, this dish requires some surgery. It’s kind of a “whoa” moment when you as the diner unknowingly cut into the squid and realize that the filling is another part of the same animal. These tentacle slices reminded me of a pâté because of their smooth nature with a little tension when cutting with a knife, and enough funk flavor to raise an eyebrow. And the squid's exterior seems so light it could melt and the interior provides a gentle crunch.
Both squid parts get wonderfully tied together by absorbing the pool of thick sherry sauce beneath that boasts sweet and savory elements like honey and walnut bouncing off each other; exactly like a Palo Cortado would be on its own as an apértif. And you'll definitely treat the squid as bread and use to absorb every drop of sauce.
This is truly a squid presentation for lovers of the under-appreciated seafood, boasting that elastic yet tender texture and the slight notes of smoky char and salty sea that make it polarizing and such a favorite for those who love it. Long gone are the days that calamari only brought to mind fried batter around a rubber band as chewy as a dog toy.
Seville opened last spring and should make the squid a house standard. Right now it’s just a chalkboard special. And since the restaurant is a tapas bar, you will not fill up on a $9.50 plate of four little squids. I was told two tapas per person is plenty, which was not really true — you'll probably need a minimum of three tapas per person, and probably four if you’re substantially hungry. Anything with jamón Ibérico is worth ordering as is that Andalucian classic, gazpacho.
Half the menu is made of pepitos, little sandwiches on crispy baguettes that are about 1/25 the size of a real baguette. It's perfect food. The “HLT” with Serrano ham, greens and salmorejo (a tomato-based spread) is the one of the 42 combinations to know, literally dripping with sauce the same way as an In-n-Out double-double. The only gripe that can be said at Seville is some prices are just plain too steep for what you get. If you complain about The Mill’s $4 toast, then the tiny $4.50 pepito with some Nutella and almond slivers on clearly inferior bread and a smaller size is probably not for you. Yes, it tastes fine. But there's no denying it should be at least half the price.
I don’t know why Seville advertises itself as mostly a “to go” destination when there’s nothing better to wind down the day than a few casual bites while enjoying some crisp La Gitana Manzanilla Sherry or Sangria onsite. The patio is absolute money and the view of sunset and the Princeton-by-the-Sea harbor will easily make your friends jealous when you text them a selfie with “wish you were here” as the message. It's California at its beautiful best. Seville the city might have some great tapas bars to visit but actually isn’t even on the coast. We’re lucky in Half Moon Bay where our version of Seville offers the sea and an ideal tapa, squid-stuffed squid.
450 Capistrano Rd., Half Moon Bay; (650) 563-4181.