By Max Milano (Travel Writer)

A green sea of rice sways in the wind, stretching as far as my eyes can see. It's a magic carpet of green waves shimmering under the bright Valencian sun. Just weeks ago, this was all water—a vast lagoon, an inland sea divided by dirt roads extending for miles. But today, all you see are green waves with golden flashes as the rice stalks dance in the breeze, dotted with white sparks from the stork-like birds that wade through the muck, poking the soft earth with their beaks in search of fish or crabs.

We're in the heart of L'Albufera de València, a sprawling lagoon and wetland just south of the city of Valencia.

Valencia's history is written on the landscape surrounding L'Albufera. Local fishermen have worked these waters since at least the 1200s, and likely long before that. Rows of orange groves line the edges of the lagoon, watched over by a chain of Moorish castles dotting the hills along its length.

It was the Moors who introduced rice to L'Albufera. They named it al-buhayra, or inland sea, and that's exactly what it looks like—sometimes water, sometimes, like today, a shimmering field of rice, always reminiscent of a massive inland sea. Only a thin strip of dunes separates the lagoon from the Mediterranean.

I peer closer at the rice heads stretching out before me. Green pearls crown the stems, shaking like vegetable maracas in the wind. This is bomba rice—the best and only official rice for the most Valencian of dishes: Paella.

You might think you know Paella. Perhaps you've seen or even tasted the impostors sold outside Spain—Paella pizza, for instance. But in Valencia, only the version born in the rice fields of L'Albufera can claim the title of authentic Valencian Paella.

The Authentic Valencian Paella

The Moors brought rice, oranges, and reintroduced saffron to the region. While the Romans cultivated other staples like garlic and onions, it’s the flavors from the East—Indian biriyanis, Persian tahdig, Arabian mandi—that hint at Paella’s distant relatives.

Like many great national dishes, Paella’s origin is rooted in poverty, and its story is no exception. Fishermen and rice farmers in L'Albufera would gather at lunchtime to cook humble, one-pot meals of local rice, vegetables, and whatever they could catch from the lagoon—be it eel or rodents.

In Paella's early days, water voles (field mice) were a common ingredient, as were ducks, abundant in the lagoon. By the 19th century, upper-class Valencians discovered Paella on weekend trips to L'Albufera, falling in love with this rustic rice dish, now refined with rabbit, snails, and green beans.

The name "paella" comes from the shallow pan used to cook the rice, paella or paellera, a term derived from the Latin patella and brought into the Valencian lexicon via the French paelle. The upper classes embraced this hearty peasant dish, adding their own touches and eventually spreading it across Spain and the world.

***Rice in L'Albufera. Valencia, Spain.***

While seafood rice dishes existed in Spain long before Paella, they weren’t Paella. This distinction is dear to the hearts of Valencians. The global popularity of Paella-like dishes has led to many variations, some far from the original—hence the Valencian government's decision to grant Paella a protected status to safeguard this cultural treasure.

According to experts, after consulting over 400 local chefs in more than 250 towns and villages around Valencia, a true Paella Valenciana must include just ten ingredients: rice, chicken, rabbit, ferraura beans (broad green beans), garrofón beans (white beans), tomato, olive oil, saffron, salt, and water. That’s it.

So, if your Paella contains seafood or other additions, it’s not Paella. It can be called arroz—a rice dish—of which the most famous is Arroz a la Marinera, or Mariner/Seafood rice, a longtime Paella impostor, particularly abroad and in tourist-heavy areas of Spain.

El Palmar

We drive into El Palmar, a village in the heart of L'Albufera, to try the locally made Paella. But since I'm not fond of snails or rabbit, we opt for a black arroz.

Ordering Paella in Valencia is a ritual—one that’s intricate and, frankly, a bit annoying. First, you can’t order Paella (or any arroz) at night. Most restaurants in El Palmar close by 6 PM. So if you see Paella on a dinner menu, you’re likely in a tourist trap.

Single-person Paellas are another no-no. A proper Paella must be for 2 or more people and must be ordered ahead of time, preferably a week in advance.

So, you have to make a reservation for your Paella. No self-respecting Valencian would walk into an arrocería and expect to order Paella or arroz on the spot, without a reservation. And even with a reservation, you still must wait 30 to 40 minutes for your Paella to be prepared—a part of the tradition.

Another quirk of Valencian Paella is that the locals enjoy it far too al dente and dry for my taste. Ordering an arroz negro solves these issues. The squid ink in the arroz negro gives it a nice briny flavor and adds moisture to the rice, pairing well with the white fish and squid that rounds up the dish. Plus, after a few bites, your lips turn a deep black, leaving you looking like Robert Smith from The Cure.

The restaurant seats us by the water, where we order wine and Serrano ham croquettes as we wait the obligatory 30 to 40 minutes for our black arroz.

Sitting by the embankment, we watch diners board local boats to explore the lagoon, many holding large plastic cups of Tinto de Verano, a cold red wine spritzer (not to be confused with sangria).

It’s blazing hot by the canal. The air is still, and I dream of the cooler breezes on the ocean-side dunes. I respect the tradition of eating Paella or arroz during the day, but unless you're right on the beach, it’s usually too hot in summer for a heavy rice dish in the sun. Still, we soldier on and finish most of our arroz negro. It’s pretty good.

Time to find some flamingos; they’re said to frequent the lagoon, hunting crabs and shrimp by dipping their heads upside down into the murky waters.

***Rice Fields. L'Albufera, Valencia, Spain.***

Flamingos of L'Albufera

Flamingos love wetlands, and L'Albufera is their ideal habitat. They started appearing here a few years ago in winter and have returned every year since. Some even stay year-round, constantly poking their heads in the muck in search of food.

We decide to search for flamingos as a post-meal activity. Not far from El Palmar is the Reserva del Racó de l'Olla, a protected area within L'Albufera.

We don’t have to walk far from the visitor center to spot our first flamingos—light pink, majestic, and forming heart shapes with their necks when they get close to each other. Beautiful birds in a beautiful landscape. The perfect ending to a perfect day of rice and traditions.

Paella: A Beat Poem by Max Milano

The rice is nice

The voles are bent

The eels are slick

The fires are oranges

The Moors have more

secrets to come

No garum, no laurels

No crown of thorns

Only Moorish castles

Over Roman blood

Rocking the foundations

Forming a new nation

Latin and Arabic

Fight the Christian kings

From Aragon and Leon

The Cid Campeador

Whose horse struck the water

That gushed from the soil

Of roman bathwater

right under cobblestones

Now, build your cathedrals

Atop minarets

Below, Roman bones

That Pompey destroyed

Valentia the valiant

The legions have marched

To Caesar, what belongs to Caesar

Missions bells are back

After 800 years

They ring over groves

And the pink flamingoes

That now come in droves

Remember the Moor

Remember the rice

Now, five hundred years later

Paella is the price.

Stay tuned to GuiriGuru for more Spain explorations and weekly expat tips.

Max Milano is a travel writer and photographer based in Los Angeles, California, and Valencia, Spain. His latest photography book, Mexico City Noir, Life Under The Volcanoes, is Available on Amazon. Bookings and Prints of his photographs are available at MaxMilanoPix.