Smoked salmon with sautéed potatoes, a couple of guindillas, a handful of cebollitas, a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil — eaten off a paper plate with the side door open and Andalucía doing its best work on the horizon.
This is one of those plates.
Smoked salmon with sautéed potatoes, a couple of guindillas, a handful of cebollitas, a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil — eaten off a paper plate with the side door open and Andalucía doing its best work on the horizon. It took longer to heat the potatoes than it did to eat it.

The salmon
Norwegian smoked salmon is what I used here, and it's hard to argue with. Cold-smoked at low temperature, it stays silky and translucent — nothing like the hot-smoked variety, which flakes and has a more assertive flavour. Both work on this plate, and so does smoked trout if that's what's in the fridge/cool box, or smoked mackerel if you want something a little more robust and considerably cheaper.
The key is quality. Smoked salmon is one of those ingredients that really doesn't benefit from trading down. A decent 100g pack from a good supermarket is all you need for a satisfying lunch for one.
Season it with nothing more than a grind of black pepper and a drizzle of your best olive oil just before serving. That's it.
If smoked salmon is your thing, my Smoked Salmon Salad with Beetroot, Herbs and Lemon is worth a look — a little more involved, but just as honest.

Smoked Salmon with Sautéed Potatoes — the Van Kitchen Method
I boiled these at home before I left — small new potatoes, cooked until just tender, then left to cool and packed in a container. In the van, they went straight into a non-stick pan with a little chilli oil, smoked paprika, black pepper, and a pinch of sea salt. Ten minutes over a medium heat, turning occasionally, and they come out golden and slightly crisp on the outside, fluffy within.
Pre-boiling at home is the van kitchen trick here. No waiting for water to boil, no wasted gas, no steam filling the van. Just sauté and serve.
If you're making this at home, the method is identical — boil, cool, sauté. It works just as well on a proper hob as it does on a two-burner gas stove wedged into a Fiat Ducato.
The pickles
Guindillas and cebollitas are a Spanish storecupboard staple, and if you haven't come across them before, they're worth seeking out.
Guindillas are long, mild-to-moderately spicy pickled green chillies with a gentle vinegar bite. In the Basque Country they turn up in the classic pintxo called a gilda — skewered with an olive and an anchovy — but alongside smoked fish they're equally at home.
Cebollitas are small pickled onions, usually preserved in white wine vinegar, sometimes with herbs. Sharper and more delicate than the British pickled onion, they cut through the richness of the salmon beautifully.
Both come in jars. Both last for weeks once opened. Both earn their place in the van food kit.
Putting it together
There is no recipe here in any formal sense. This is assembly cooking at its most honest.
Sauté your pre-boiled potatoes in a little chilli oil with smoked paprika, black pepper, and sea salt until golden. Lay your smoked salmon on a plate — paper or otherwise. Add a few guindillas and a small pile of cebollitas. Arrange the potatoes alongside. Drizzle everything with extra virgin olive oil.
Pour whatever you're drinking. Sit down. Get stuck in.
Washing up: wipe the pan with kitchen paper, wash a knife and fork, recycle the plate. Done.
It works at home too
Everything about this plate translates perfectly to a home kitchen. The sautéed potatoes are something I make regularly at Casa Adora — they're on the table at the Potato Hub in various forms, and they suit almost any simply cooked fish. The pickles can be found in any Spanish supermarket and increasingly in UK delis and online. The salmon needs no introduction.
If you want to dress it up slightly for a starter or a light lunch at home, a small pot of crème fraîche with a squeeze of lemon on the side wouldn't go amiss. But honestly, the olive oil is enough.

A note on the van kitchen
This trip was the beginning of something longer — three months heading north through Spain to escape the Andalucían summer, with Issy for company and Florie doing the driving. The van was 43°C when we set off. By the time we stopped for the night, it was down to a manageable 32°, the side door was open, the sunset was doing something absurd over the scrubland, and this plate was dinner.
Minimal prep. Minimal cooking. Minimal washing up. Maximum satisfaction.
More van kitchen recipes are coming as the summer unfolds.
This recipe is also part of my growing Campervan Cooking Recipes collection — real van life meals cooked on a two-ring hob, no proper kitchen required.
More van kitchen recipes are coming as the summer unfolds.
Find more fish recipes here.
Wonky photos, proper food, genuine adventures – The Flexible Chef




