When we moved to Catalonia, I realised pretty quickly—if I wanted to actually understand the people, I had to understand their food. And if I wanted to properly fit in? I had to learn the language. Not just enough to fumble through a menu, but enough to keep up when people start passionately debating olive oil preferences or whether I’m about to butcher a perfectly good tomato by rubbing it on bread incorrectly.
And yeah, I’ve already been side-eyed over my kitchen renovations. Apparently, I might have dishonoured some sacred Catalan culinary principle. Who knew.
Anyway. That brings me to cocas.
If you don’t know, they’re these simple, versatile flatbreads that show up at pretty much every Catalan gathering, from casual family lunches to big festivals. And, of course, every single person you meet will have a strong opinion about how they should be made and whose grandmother made them best.
Food and Language—Turns Out, They’re the Same Thing
Food isn’t just food here. It’s a way of talking. A way of being.
Learning to make cocas wasn’t just about throwing flour and olive oil together—it was about figuring out Catalonia itself. Somehow, kneading dough alongside a Catalan neighbour makes new vocabulary stick better than any textbook ever could. Something about your hands being covered in flour forces the words into your brain.
And apparently, this isn’t just some personal theory.
A few friends of mine have gone the structured route—formal Spanish courses in Barcelona, actual lessons, all of that. There’s even a language school that does “immersion-based” Spanish courses in Barcelona, built around learning through daily life. No memorisation drills, just real-world interactions, market visits, cooking, the whole thing. And it works.
Because let’s be honest—you’ll remember the word farina (flour) a lot faster when you’ve just knocked half a bag of it onto the floor.
Would I love to do one of these courses? Definitely.
Can I? Not right now. Albert (our son, who has an autism condition) needs me here. So instead, this blog is my version of learning—bit by bit, through cooking, through people, through making mistakes and hoping no one notices.
The Essentials—Making Cocas
Dough:
- 250g all-purpose flour
- 100ml warm water
- 5g salt
- 5g dry yeast
- 30ml olive oil
Toppings (pick and mix):
- Roasted red peppers (escalivada)
- Grilled aubergine
- Anchovies
- Cured ham
- Goat cheese
- Honey & walnuts (if you want it sweet)
- Fresh rosemary & sea salt
How It Comes Together
- Dough first. Yeast in warm water—let it sit. Mix flour, salt, yeast water, olive oil. Knead it for 10 minutes. Cover, leave it alone for an hour until it doubles in size.
- Shape & top. Oven at 200°C (400°F). Roll it thin—about ½ cm. Throw it on a tray, add your toppings. If you’re using escalivada, spread the roasted peppers and aubergine first.
- Bake. 12-15 minutes. Golden, crisp edges. Maybe drizzle some olive oil on top. Eat immediately, because obviously.
Learning by Doing
Cooking cocas has been way more than just a cooking experiment. It’s a language lesson. A crash course in social rules. A test of whether I can follow instructions in Catalan without freezing up.
Through food, I’ve picked up phrases that aren’t in textbooks, learned how to navigate markets without looking totally clueless, and—most importantly—gained the confidence to stumble through conversations and not care if I sound ridiculous.
If you’re trying to really get to know a place, start with the food.
And if you’re serious about learning the language? An immersive experience at a reputable school might be the fastest way to do it.