Cook octopus? Sorry, I’ve only got two hands!

THE octopus is one smart molusc. I mean, I will always remain grateful to Paul the World Cup octopus who won me money back in 2008.

So first up, apologies for eating so many of your brothers and sisters. It’s just that you’re all so damn tasty.

Particularly when you’re cooked by master pulpo chef Manuel, pictured far right, from Galicia... the secret’s the olive oil, I’m told but it must be more than that.

I first got a taste for pulpo when I walked a stretch of the Camino three years ago... my driver who had very little English and me little Spanish gave me three words which saw me through the 100km walk: peregrino (pilgrim), albergue (hostel) and pulpo (octopus).

The good people of Galicia were over this week to tempt our palates with a cookery demonstration and a tasting at Cook’s Academy kitchens in Dublin before indulging us further by feeding us at Taste of Dublin.

Thankfully they didn’t pick me to help cook. Never mind the octopus, it would have been me who would have been all arms.

The Galicians are from the same tribe as us Gaels, they have the same verdant countryside, musical and dance traditions... and they also love fish, maybe even more than the Irish do!

The Festa do Marisco (seafood festival) takes place in O Grove in October every year (4th-14th) when the town with a population of just 6,000 doubles in size. There’s fish, of course, but also sport with regattas, or ‘dornas’ races, and music with concerts showcasing local and international music.

And being October, there’s Queimada, the Halloween ‘burning water spell’ which I was invited to join on a stop-off on the way to Santiago.

Galicia is well served with flights to Santiago and La Coruna and Porto just across the border.

And just ask the taxi driver to take you to the pulpo.