Marmitako: An Authentic Basque Tuna & Potato Stew Recipe

There is a stew the Basque tuna boats have been cooking for as long as anyone can remember, made in a single pot on a burner below deck while the men chased bonito across the Bay of Biscay. It is called marmitako, and it is one of the great one-pot dishes of Spain: potatoes, a slow sofrito, the deep sweet pulp of dried peppers, a good fish broth, and, added at the very last moment, the pale summer tuna the boats were out there to catch. It is honest, warming food with the sea running right through it, and it is far easier to make at home than most people imagine.

We at Iberian Direct sell the tinned bonito that makes an outstanding quick version of this dish, so we make no secret of our angle. But marmitako belongs to everyone, and our aim here is to teach you to cook it properly, the way a cook in Bermeo or Getaria would recognise, whether you use fresh fish or a good tin.

What is marmitako?

Marmitako is a Basque fish stew of tuna and potato, traditionally made with bonito del norte (albacore) during the costera del bonito, the summer season when the white tuna passes the Cantabrian coast. The name is pure Basque: a marmita is the pot the fishermen cooked in, and the suffix -ko means "from" or "of" — so marmitako is simply "from the pot," the dish named after the vessel it was born in.

That origin is not romantic decoration; it explains the whole recipe. This was food cooked at sea by men with limited ingredients and one heat source. It had to be filling, quick to assemble from what the boat carried — potatoes, onions, peppers, oil — and finished with the freshest thing on board, the tuna itself. Everything about a good marmitako still follows that logic: a humble, starchy base doing the heavy lifting, and the fish treated as the guest of honour, added late and handled gently.

A note on history, because it matters for authenticity. The potato, the tomato and the pepper all crossed from the Americas, so the marmitako we recognise today is a relatively modern dish; earlier boat stews would have leaned on other ingredients entirely. What we cook now — potato, sofrito, choricero, bonito — settled into its classic form over the last couple of centuries, and it is worth getting the details right, because in the Basque Country marmitako is taken seriously enough to have its own cooking competitions.

The three things that make a great marmitako

You can follow a marmitako recipe to the letter and still end up with something ordinary if you miss the three techniques that actually matter. Get these right and the rest is easy.

1. Crack the potatoes, don't cut them

This is the detail that separates a real marmitako from a generic fish stew. The potatoes are cascadas or chascadas — cracked. Instead of slicing cleanly through, you push the knife a little way into the potato and then twist and snap the chunk off, leaving a ragged, broken face rather than a smooth cut. Those torn surfaces release far more starch into the broth as they cook, and that starch is what thickens the stew to its proper, slightly velvety consistency. No flour, no cornflour, no cream: the potatoes do it themselves. Use a floury or all-purpose variety that will break down a little at the edges while holding its shape in the middle.

2. Choricero pepper, not a tomato sauce

The signature flavour of marmitako is not tomato. It is the sweet, earthy, faintly smoky pulp of the pimiento choricero — the dried red pepper that also gives Basque and Riojan cooking its colour and depth. You can buy whole dried choricero peppers, soak them in warm water until soft, and scrape the flesh from the skin with a spoon; or you can buy the ready-made pulp in a jar (pulpa de pimiento choricero), which is what most cooks reach for now and is genuinely excellent. If you truly cannot find choricero, the Murcian ñora is a close cousin and a fair substitute. Tomato does appear, but modestly — a single ripe grated tomato to round things out, never a jarful of passata. Marmitako should taste of pepper and sea, not of a red pasta sauce.

3. Add the bonito off the heat, and let it rest

Here is the golden rule, and the one most often broken: the bonito goes in at the very end, off the heat. Tuna is lean and turns dry, grey and stringy the moment it overcooks. So you finish the potatoes first, take the pot off the flame, and only then fold in the fish — cubes of fresh bonito, or flakes of good tinned bonito — cover the pot, and let the residual heat of the broth do the cooking as the stew rests for five to ten minutes. The fish stays tender, moist and just-set. This single habit is the difference between a marmitako that makes people quiet at the table and one they politely finish.

Ingredients (serves 4)

• 800g floury or all-purpose potatoes (Monalisa, Kennebec or similar), peeled and cracked into chunks
• 2 medium onions, finely chopped
• 1 green Italian frying pepper (or half a green bell pepper), chopped
• 3 garlic cloves, finely chopped
• 1 ripe tomato, halved and grated (skin discarded)
• 2 tbsp choricero pepper pulp (or the soaked, scraped flesh of 2 dried choricero peppers)
• Around 1 litre fish stock (a good fumet), hot
• 4 tbsp Spanish extra virgin olive oil
• 1 small glass of dry white wine (optional, but good)
• A pinch of dried guindilla or cayenne (optional, for a little warmth)
• Sea salt
• A handful of flat-leaf parsley, chopped
• The tuna: either around 600g fresh bonito del norte, cut into 3cm cubes, or 2–3 tins of good bonito del norte in olive oil (roughly 400g drained), drained and broken into large flakes

Good extra virgin olive oil matters here — the sofrito is where a lot of the flavour is built, so use something you would happily taste on its own. A bottle from our Spanish olive oil selection will do the base real justice. For the pepper warmth and the choricero, our Spanish spices range is worth a look too; a good pimentón de la Vera is never unwelcome near a Basque stew.

Method

1. Crack the potatoes. Peel them, then push a small knife a couple of centimetres into each potato and twist to snap off a rough chunk about 4cm across. Keep going until they are all broken into ragged pieces. Set aside.
2. Build the sofrito. Warm the olive oil in a wide, heavy pot over a low-medium heat. Add the onion, green pepper and a good pinch of salt, and cook gently for 12–15 minutes, stirring now and then, until soft and sweet but not browned. Add the garlic and cook another minute until fragrant.
3. Add the pepper and tomato. Stir in the grated tomato and cook for a few minutes until it darkens and loses its raw edge. Add the choricero pulp and the optional pinch of guindilla, and stir so everything turns a deep, glossy red.
4. Toss the potatoes. Tip in the cracked potatoes and stir for a minute or two so every piece is coated in the sofrito. If you are using it, pour in the white wine now and let it bubble off for a minute.
5. Simmer. Pour in enough hot fish stock to just cover the potatoes. Bring to a gentle simmer and cook, uncovered, for 20–25 minutes, until the potatoes are tender and the broth has thickened. Stir occasionally and press a few potato chunks against the side of the pot to help release their starch. Taste and adjust the salt — it should be well seasoned and savoury.
6. Rest, then finish with the bonito. Take the pot off the heat. If using fresh bonito, nestle the cubes into the hot stew, cover, and leave for 8–10 minutes; the residual heat will cook them through to just-firm. If using tinned bonito, gently fold the flakes through, cover, and rest for 5 minutes so they warm without breaking up. Scatter with parsley and serve.

Like most stews, marmitako is arguably even better the next day — but reheat it slowly and briefly, only to warm the fish through, never to a rolling boil.

Which bonito to use: fresh vs tinned

Traditionally, marmitako is made with fresh bonito during the summer season, cut into generous cubes. If you can get a fresh loin of albacore, wonderful — cut it into 3cm pieces and follow the method above. But fresh bonito del norte is seasonal and, outside northern Spain, genuinely hard to find. This is where a very good tin turns marmitako into a dish you can cook any night of the year, and — importantly — it is not a compromise. Cooks all over the Basque Country make excellent marmitako with quality tinned bonito, and if you are curious about why Spanish tinned tuna is a world apart from the flaky stuff packed in water, our full guide to bonito del norte and ventresca explains what to look for.

For an authentic marmitako, the most fitting tin we carry is the Bastarri Bonito de Getaria — Basque white tuna from Getaria itself, which is about as close to the source of this dish as a tin can get. For a classic all-rounder, the Don Bocarte bonito del norte in olive oil or the clean, elegant El Capricho fillets are both superb. If you are cooking marmitako as an everyday supper and don't want to open your best tin, the Club del Gourmet bonito del norte is a reliable, honest choice.

And if you want to make something quietly spectacular, use ventresca — the fatty belly cut, the most tender part of the fish. Folding flakes of Don Bocarte ventresca or a tin of ventresca de bonito del norte into the finished stew gives a richness that borders on luxurious. It is not how the fishermen did it, but they would not complain. Browse the full range in our Spanish Tuna & Bonito del Norte collection, or explore all our Spanish conservas while you are there.

How to serve marmitako

Marmitako is a main course in its own right, and it asks for very little alongside it. A hunk of crusty bread to work through the broth is essential — this is a stew you mop, not one you leave half-finished. A glass of chilled Basque txakoli, with its faint spritz, is the local pairing and cuts through the richness beautifully; a young, fruity rioja or a crisp albariño work just as well.

Serve it in warm, deep bowls, and don't over-garnish. A little chopped parsley, perhaps the last thread of olive oil, and that is enough. If you have made a big pot and want to build a proper Spanish table around it, it sits happily on the same menu as our seafood paella for a coastal feast, though frankly marmitako is generous enough to be the whole meal.

Frequently asked questions

What is marmitako?

Marmitako is a traditional Basque fish stew of tuna and potato, historically cooked by fishermen aboard the tuna boats during the summer bonito season. The name means "from the pot" in Basque, after the marmita the stew was cooked in.

What kind of fish is used in marmitako?

Classically, bonito del norte (albacore, or white tuna), cut into cubes. Fresh bonito is traditional in season, but an excellent, authentic version can be made with good tinned bonito del norte or ventresca added at the end.

Why are the potatoes cracked instead of cut?

Cracking (rather than slicing) the potatoes leaves ragged, torn surfaces that release more starch into the broth as they cook. That starch naturally thickens the stew to its proper, slightly velvety texture without any flour or cream.

Can I make marmitako with tinned tuna?

Yes, and it is genuinely authentic for a quick version. Use a good Spanish bonito del norte in olive oil, drain it, and fold the flakes in off the heat at the very end so they stay tender. For a richer result, use ventresca.

What can I use instead of choricero pepper?

Choricero pepper pulp is the signature flavour, but the Murcian ñora is a close substitute. A spoonful of sweet pimentón (Spanish paprika) will give colour and some of the earthiness if neither dried pepper is available, though the flavour will be a little different.