Their first meeting turned into an interview where Dawn was doing the hiring and Dave was burning a tray of the caramel shortbread Lucia cookies she’d named after her great grandmother.  Luckily for everyone, she hired him anyway. Many trays of perfectly executed Lucia cookies later, they’re happily partnered and married in Brooklyn with their young son Nate and a second location in DUMBO on the way.

Whether it’s family or friends visiting or just anytime brunch on Smith Street, one of my absolute favorite ways to end the weekend is to stop by One Girl for something sweet to take the edge off a Sunday. Still, their best offering has been their classes where everyone gets elbow deep in tarts, cakes, and custard.

Incredibly generous with their time and advice when I started baking and blogging, they’ve also been generous with the recipes they’ve chosen to include in their book - offering up the secrets to their pumpkin whoopie pies and winter spice cookies, what I promise you will be the best apple pie you’ll ever make, and a have-to-try chocolate cake with salty dulce de leche and hazelnut brittle. I also love that they’ve included DIY basics you’ve always wanted to try but were waiting for someone to tell you how, ie. making your own butter.

It was hard to pick one but this week I made their blueberry oat muffins.  Classic and simple, they were fall apart tender with enough oat-crumble crust and berries to make you feel virtuous for baking in first weeks of January. It was a good page to start the year on.

Blueberry Oat Muffins with Crumb Topping
Reprinted with permission from One Girl Cookies: Recipes for Cakes, Cupcakes, Whoopie Pies, and Cookies from Brooklyn’s Beloved Bakery by Dawn Casale and David Crofton.

Crumb Topping
1 cup all-purpose flour
1⁄2 cup packed light brown sugar
1⁄4 cup rolled oats
1⁄2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1⁄4 teaspoon table salt
10 tablespoons (1 1⁄4 sticks) cold unsalted butter, cut into pieces

Muffins
2⁄3 cup rolled oats
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1⁄2 teaspoon baking soda
1 1⁄2 teaspoons table salt
6 tablespoons (3⁄4 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs
1 cup sour cream
1⁄4 cup honey
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups frozen blueberries

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line one 12-cup muffin pan with paper liners.
To prepare the crumb topping, combine the flour, brown sugar, oats, cinnamon, and salt in the bowl of a food processor, and pulse to combine. Add the butter and pulse 4 or 5 times. Set aside.

To prepare the muffins, process the oats in the clean bowl of the food processor until they are powdery. In a medium bowl, whisk together the ground oats, flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat together the butter and granulated sugar on medium speed until light yellow and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add the eggs one at a time, and mix for 1 minute. Then add the sour cream, honey, and vanilla, and mix for 30 seconds. With the mixer running on low speed, gradually add the flour mixture. Mix for 10 seconds. Take the bowl off the mixer and fold in the blueberries with a rubber spatula.

Using an ice cream scoop, divide the batter among the prepared muffin cups, filling them about three-fourths full. Sprinkle the muffins generously with the crumb topping.

Bake, rotating the pan halfway through, for 28 minutes, or until the top of a muffin springs back when lightly pressed. Let the muffins cool in the pan for 10 minutes. Remove the muffins from the pan, transfer them to a wire rack, and let them cool completely.

Makes 12 muffins

I got hooked on it at my cousin Caro’s where we’d have it in the morning over ham and eggs. Since then, Diana Kennedy’s salsa de tomate verde has become my favorite any-night, any-excuse recipe. Made in relatively small batches, it comes together so quickly there’s reason not to always have it on hand. A couple of weeks ago, I decided to make a croque madame a la Mexicana or croque señorita. Taking the elements of the traditional sandwich, I switched things around until I found a combination I loved – thickly cut wet-cured ham the butcher recommended, fresh ricotta for the béchamel, a steam-fried egg, and of course salsa verde. Instead of the corn tortillas I’ve been hoarding, I used a crusty Pullman loaf – a little less delicate but better to soak up runny yolks. For the eggs I went green, a splurge I allow myself every summer.I haven’t been the only one mixing up my French and my Mexican. Coming to Smith St. though still under construction, Jolie Cantina is adding a French-Mexican menu to the row of almost too cute bars and cafes that line the street. Despite combining my two country-crushes, it didn’t make sense at first until I saw the new graphic they put up – French and Mexican roosters facing off. Now that I’ve been mixing them up on my own, I can’t wait for them to open. In the permanent junior-year abroad that is Brooklyn’s Smith Street, it’ll be another excuse to linger when it’s too early to go all the way home but too late to go anywhere else.

Croque Señorita

I worried it would seem fussy to include recipes for salsa verde and ricotta since both can easily be found pre-made. But then it’s worth it and I am a little fussy. For the salsa verde, tomatillos, cilantro, white onions and serrano peppers have all been coming into the markets so I usually stock up on the weekend. I absolutely hate throwing away food so I get a small sense of satisfaction every time I get to the bottom of a bag of cilantro I feel a little sense of accomplishment.

High-quality ricotta is worth seeking out but it can be a little expensive and doesn’t last very long. Milk, cream and lemons are something I always have on hand, so I’ve gotten used to making a quick batch to use as needed. It really is as simple as heating milk. I usually make the ricotta first then set it to drain while I make the tomatillo sauce.

4 slices white pullman bread, sliced thickly and preferably day old
2-3 tablespoons butter
4 tablespoons fresh ricotta, homemade or high quality
6-8 ounces thickly sliced wet-cured ham
4 fresh eggs
Salsa de tomate verde (see below)

Heat a heavy skillet over medium heat. Butter both sides of each bread slice and toast in the skillet until the edges are brown and crisp. Remove from the skillet and spread a heaping tablespoon of ricotta on each slice and top with a couple of slice of ham. Keep in a warm oven or top with aluminum foil while you fry the eggs.

Melt a tablespoon of butter in the skillet over medium heat. Crack the egg into a small bowl then drop it into the skillet. Repeat with the remaining eggs or cook separately. Cook until the edges of the egg turn white, about 1 minute. Drop one teaspoon of water into the pan for each egg. Cover tightly with a lid and cook over medium-low heat until the yolks are set, about 1-2 more minutes.

Remove from skillet and set over ham. Serve with salsa verde.

Fresh Ricotta
Adapted from  Smitten Kitchen.

2 1/2 cups milk
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 teaspoon coarse sea salt
3 tablespoons lemon juice

Line a colander with cheese cloth and set over a large bowl. In a large heavy pot, heat milk over medium heat until it reaches 190 degrees or until bubble just start to appear along the sides. Remove from heat and stir in lemon juice and salt. Allow to sit for about 5 minutes until the curds and whey begin to separate.

Salsa de Tomate Verde
Barely adapted from The Essential Cuisines of Mexico by Diana Kennedy.

1/2 pound tomate verde (sold as tomatillos), husks removed and well rinsed
2-3 serrano peppers, seeded and finely chopped
1 heaping tablespoon white onion, finely chopped
1 small garlic clove, finely chopped
1/3 cup cilantro, leaves and tender stems, roughly chopped
Salt to taste

Place the tomatillos in small saucepan with enough water to cover. Bring to a gentle simmer over medium heat. Stir occasionally so they cook evenly. They should be pale green and tender but still whole, about 10 minutes. Remove from heat.

While the tomatillos cook, combine the peppers, white onion, garlic and cilantro in blender and pulse until well chopped and combined. Add a little water as needed. Add the tomatillos one at a time, pulsing after each addition. Add water if needed to reach the right consistency. Add salt to taste and serve.

A little more exotic than what I’ll find at the Farmer’s market (though they abound in Chinatown), pitayas or dragon fruit got the “it girl” treatment by the New York Times. Café Bustelo is up for most popular now that the family owned company was bought by Smuckers for $360 million. Mexican cuisine of course has always been wildly popular but the prestige is catching up since its designation by UNESCO as Intangible Cultural Heritage. Mexico City’s Pujol made the S.Pellegrino World’s 50 Best Restaurants list, Calendelaria, a new taqueria, opened in Paris (allegedly its first though I find it hard to believe), and the number of Latin restaurants in London are rising to keep pace with a growing demographic from South America.

Though school is out, I love flagging how to’s (since by the time I need to look for one it’s too late) and the Kitchn posted a great guide to grilling featuring Lourdes Castro, who’s book Latin Grilling: Recipes to Share, from Patagonian Asado to Yucatecan Barbecue and More   just came out. This month I was contributed my own how-to on Devour the Blog when I made Salvadoran pupusas. I got to duck behind the stand at Soler Pupusas for my lesson and I look forward to seeing them again at their new Smorgasburg location. Finally, in a shark jumping move for magazine coverage of el bulli’s closing, Esquire Spain created a scratch and sniff logo for their Ferran Adrià cover.

1. Mongo (246 Smith Street, Brooklyn, NY, 917.671.7696):  I’d been eyeing the antique teapots form the 1920′s to the present ($29-$225) and slanted coffee cups (4oz/$48 set of 4, 8oz/$64 set of 4) on the cast glass cake stand for weeks when I finally went inside.  Stocked like a walk-in curiosity cabinet, the windows are lined with vintage colored glass ($10-32) and it would be easier to list what they don’t carry.

2. Home & Haven (177 Smith Street, Brooklyn, NY, 718.875.1775):  Going to Home & Haven is like visiting your well-traveled friend’s, perfectly put together apartment for a dinner party except that you can walk away with the dishes you admired, wrap up the beautiful Moroccan glasses you’d been using, and throw it all into the Day of the Dead mesh shopper bags you wish you’d brought back from Mexico.  Filled with contemporary home and bath items, including the remaining stock of the hard to find Panik Tobin line, I love her variety Provence baskets.  Trimmed with camel hide (starting at $55-$75) and perfect for the market hopping, they let me indulge my favorite weekend activity – pretending I’m actually in Paris.

3. The Invisible Dog (51 Bergen Street, Brooklyn, NY, 347.560.3641):  Just off of Smith, the Invisible Dog follows a pretty typical Brooklyn narrative.  Housed in the converted factory that churned out the eponymous leashes (apparently a hit at at Studio 54) until it was boarded up and abandoned in the 1990s, it was rediscovered by Muriel Guépin and Lucien Zayan and transformed into a gallery/event/studio/retail space.  Never knowing what you’ll find, they had a small but interesting collection for the holidays including New York-themed Brooklyn Rehab tableware ($12-$55), Twist Together Lamp sets installed throughout the space ($120), and invisible dog leases for the inevitable revival ($20).

4.  Rapisarda (177 Court Street, Brooklyn, NY, 718.797.6863): My favorite Christmas present this year came early when my friend gave me a Celia Cruz tote bag from alfalfa-seeds’ Seven Latin Divas collection.  In addition to Celia, the bags feature Carmen Miranda, Maria Félix, Rocio Durcal, Evita Peron, Frida Kahlo, and Selena – all women I aspire to be like depending on the day’s soundtrack.  It’s become my favorite gift to give this year so I was thrilled when Claudia Rapisarda started carrying them in her Court Street store where you can find everything else that makes up a diva.

5.  Enamoo (109 Smith Street, Brooklyn, NY, 718.624.0175):  This t-shirt/art/antiques store could be voted most likely to reanimate after dark.  You half expect the toys to start spinning,  etched wine glasses ($19) to sing, and tree-top angel to float away ($57).  If I was looking for a gremlin, I’d start here.

It’s hard to know what to get someone for their wedding, so I was thrilled when my friend Achy invited me to guest blog on her site, CityLife: Adventures, Large and Small, In Urban Living, while she enjoyed her honeymoon offline.  A journalist and writer based in Chicago,  I took advantage of the city crawler theme to finally visit Red Hook’s Mercado.  Click here for the complete post.

I’ve written about the Red Hook Food Vendors before (click here) but it’s wasn’t until this past Saturday that I visited them on their home field for a tour led by Chef Aaron Sanchez, part of the Food is Art culinary program, a series of lectures, classes and special events curated by Zarela Martinez in conjunction with the Mexican Cultural Institute of New York.

While the clouds and world cup kept some away, the trucks were still there, lining the park like trees on wheels, their spots staked out with carts and flags.  Starting with Eleazar Perez’s stand we worked our way past Mexican huaraches and agua frescas, Salvadoran pupusas, Colombian arepas, Guatemalan antojitos, and Chilean empanadas in less than an hour.  At Chef Aaron’s recommendation, I tried Eleazar Perez’s tostada de barbacoa for a lamb that didn’t just fall off the bone, it fainted.  It was a bit of a blur and then it was over.

A couple of years ago, the vendors’ future was uncertain as they struggled to meet stricter (and expensive) city Parks requirements.  Today they’re not only thriving, they’re expanding into the Red Hook Mercado, an open air market place on Van Brunt.

Walking away from the park, I came across a temporary exhibit by Atom Cianfarani.  Commissioned by NYCDoT urban art program.  “Welcomed Guests” comprises 10 bird nesting boxes mounted on wooden poles anchored by wine barrels doubling as benches.  Taking in the the installation caught somewhere between Red Hook ball fields and the IKEA flag stand, it seemed all really were welcome if you could find your way there.

Food is Art will run throughout the summer leading up to the celebration of Mexico’s bicentennial in September.  For more information about Food is Art, click here.

Today I took my first steps in what I hope will end with the triumphant crossing New York City marathon finish line and not sleeping through the Staten Island start, crying on the 59th Street bridge, or passing out in Central Park’s closing stretch.  Looking ahead the long Saturday training runs I have planned between now and November, I decided to play around with fresh fruit batidos (also known licuados or preparados depending on the accent).

Well before Jamba Juice took over the planet, Miami was dotted with fruit stands selling mango, mamey, papaya, guanabana, and coconut shakes and juices – sometimes from a brightly painted wooden stand, sometimes from a re-purposed grocery cart, sometimes from a well-rigged bicycle.  A cross between a fruit smoothie and icy shake, typical Cuban add-ins include whole milk, ice cream, condensed milk, sugar and even cream cheese.  The last time I visited my favorite batido stand, I ventured to ask the woman working the counter how much sugar they used.  She gave me a look that asked plainly, “what would you like to hear?”  To make sure that the fruit in my smoothie isn’t overpowered by sweeteners, I swapped the ice cream for kefir, a milk drink similar to yogurt that’s also recommended for post-run recovery.  Having recently dreamt that my favorite bodega was shut down (obsessive I know but a pretty common anxiety in gentrified Brooklyn), I ran over to grab my favorite tropical fruit purees and pulp.  Normally, I try to use fresh fruit, but in this case the colder the better.  I also doubled up on the fruit to balance out the tartness of the kefir and substituted honey or agave for the sugar.  There are still a million variations to try but the summer’s only just started and I have a lot of miles to go.

Batido de Mango
Finding good tropical fruit can be a challenge in New York.  I’ve been pretty lucky with mangoes so far this season so I use fresh ones to make this shake whenever possible.

2 cups mango chunks, fresh or frozen
1 cup plain kefir (or plain yogurt)
1 cup crushed ice
Honey or agave to taste

Add ice to blender, and pulse a few seconds at a time until well chopped.  Add the mango and kefir and blend until smooth.  Add honey or agave to taste.

Makes 2 servings.

Batido de Papaya
I’ve been looking for a way to add papaya to my diet and this worked well.

Substitute 2 cups of papaya for the mango in the above recipe.

Makes 2 servings.

Batido de Mora
I wanted to include a recipe for blackberries which are starting to appear at the farmer’s markets.  I love the combination of blackberries and orange juice but threw in the banana at the last minute for a creamier texture.  The blackberry juice can be strained to pull out the seeds but I like to leave them in.

1 cup fresh blackberries
1/4 cup orange juice
1/2 cup plain kefir (or plain yogurt)
1/2 banana (optional)
Honey or agave to taste

Using a blender, combine the blackberries and orange juice and process until smooth.  Strain seeds if needed and return to blender.  Add the kefir and banana if using and blend until smooth.  Add honey or agave to taste.

Makes 2 servings.

A few weeks ago, a friend gave me a list of Puerto Rican classics to try that included asopao de pollo.  As she described it, it’s a Puerto Rican risotto that’s not quite soup and not quite stew.  My soups often go to gumbo by mistake so I was curious to know what would happen if I made it that way by design.  At Jennifer’s suggestion, I checked my Puerto Rican Cookery book first.  I realized after additional searches that there were thousands of recipes for asopao, a one-pot, comfort food solution for family dinners and leftovers.  After reading them over, I finally circled back to Carmen Aboy Valldejuli.

One reason I chose Valldejuli’s version, is that she recommends making your own chicken broth.  Actually, she doesn’t recommend it, she just lists it in the recipe as a matter of course.  Throw in the neck, save the giblets, get it to a boil, add the broth.  I realized that I’d been taking the easy road the last few months, relying on store bought chicken broth, a handy solution but no substitute for the real thing.  In the same vein of self reliance, I decided to cut up my own chicken.  A small feat for most but a big deal for me because well, I’m just that prissy.  With a butcher shop around the corner, I’m used to stopping in, placing my order for whatever configuration I need, and heading home with a perfectly prepped chicken and neatly wrapped giblets.  That was before I started daydreaming through Thomas Keller’s ad hoc at home where he offers a step by step, beautifully photographed explanation of how to do it yourself.  If he’d included sound effects, I probably wouldn’t have tried it.  Still, when the snapping stopped, I did know my way around that chicken as promised.  While the butchering fad can go on without me, it felt good to know that if trapped on a dessert island (full of chickens) I was one step closer to not starving (provided of course someone else kills, plucks and dresses the bird).

Once the chicken was cut into 10 (to my eyes) perfect pieces, giving it a massage was positively soothing.  As the broth boiled with the spare parts, I mashed the rub together to season the rest of the chicken.  While that marinated, I set to chopping the rest of the ingredients.  When I had initially looked over the list the day before, I came across sweet chili peppers or ajíces.  In the past, I’d substituted red or green bell peppers but that didn’t seem right.  A staple of Puerto Rican sofrito, I thought it would be worthwhile to seek out.  When a local bodega told me it would be impossible to find, I was even more determined.  It had been awhile since I’d gone food questing so when I failed in Carroll Gardens I headed to Essex Market in the Lower East Side.  The Batista Market there has yet to fail me.  Right at the front, they had my peppers, small, green and shaped like habaneros but without the burn.  Next to it was the culantro, cilantro’s Latin American cousin that I was learning to do without but was thrilled to find north of Miami.

Gathering the rest of my ingredients, I started chopping, filling the kitchen with the scent of green.  In a few minutes, I’d used every used every mixing bowl I had to prep my one pot meal.  From there it was fast – a little heat and a new element every few minutes.

Despite my efforts, I let it go a little too long when I added the rice – definitely more risotto than soup and had to add a little more broth to correct it.  I was happy that I’d the effort to get it every detail right but, like most things that seem easy, it’s never so simple.

Asopao de Pollo/Chicken Asopao
Adapted from Puerto Rican Cookery by Carmen Aboy Valldejuli.

3 pounds dressed-weight whole chicken

2 peppercorns
2 garlic cloves, peeled
1 teaspoon, whole dried oregano
1/8 teaspoon paprika
2 1/2 teaspoons salt
1 1/2 teaspoons olive oil
1 1/2 teaspoons champagne vinegar

2 1/2 cups rice

9 cups of water
1 tablespoon salt

3 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 ounce salt pork, rinsed and diced
2 ounces lean cured ham
1 chorizo link (2 ounces), cut into 1/2″ rounds

1 green bell pepper, seeded and finely chopped
2 sweet chili peppers (“ají dulce” or “ajíce” for short), seeded and finely chopped
1 yellow onion, peeled and finely chopped
8 fresh culantro leaves, finely chopped

1 cup (8 ounces) tomato sauce
1 cup fresh or whole canned plum tomatoes, chopped
8 green olives stuffed with pimientos
1 tablespoon capers
1/2 cup (4 ounces) pimientos, chopped in their juice
1 tablespoon achiote paste (optional)

1 cup petit-pois, frozen
1 pound asparagus, cut into pieces (optional)

Set rice to soak in water to cover for one hour.

Divide chicken into 8-10 pieces (drumsticks, thighs, breast, wings).  Separate backbone, carcass, neck and giblets.  Wash both well and set aside.

Using a mortar and pestle, mash peppercorns, garlic, oregano, paprika, salt, olive oil and vinegar to a paste.  Rub reserved chicken pieces with seasonings.  Cover with plastic and marinate in the refrigerator, at least one hour.

Add reserved backbone, carcass, neck and giblets to a large, heavy stock pot.  Add water and salt.  Cover and bring to a boil over medium-high heat for 15 minutes.  Reduce heat to medium, and simmer for an additional 30 minutes.  Strain and reserve broth and discard carcass.  Optionally, the giblets can be reserved to add to the asopao with chicken or discarded.

Heat oil in a heavy pot over medium-high heat.  Quickly brown salt pork, ham, and chorizo, about 3 minutes.  Reduce to low and add green peppers, aji dulce, onion and culantro.  Saute and additional 10 minutes.

Add tomato sauce, chopped tomatoes, olives, capers, pimientos and achiote if using and saute an additional 5 minutes.

Add whole chicken pieces and bring to a boil over medium heat.  Cover and cook an additional 30 minutes.

Add broth (about 6 cups) and giblets if using and bring to a boil.

Drain rice and add to pot.  Bring to boil over medium heat.  Reduce heat to low, add peas and asparagus.  Cover and cook until rice reaches soup consistency.

Makes 8-10 servings.

In the two years since it opened, the Brooklyn Flea has gone from a neighborhood novelty to something that I look forward to each year.  I knew it would be crowded but made a plan to meet a friend there when it re-opened its outdoor location in Fort Greene’s Bishop Laughlin Memorial High School this weekend.  Slowly working our way through the aisles, I always go with the same hope, that the stands will be full of new (to market) retro kitchen gadgets and that the Red Hook Vendors will be  there selling pupusas, tamales, grilled corn sprinkled with chile, and agua fresca.

I was determined to bypass the lobster rolls and asia dogs that were drawing crowds though the biggest line is inevitably in front of the Red Hook stand.  I usually make a beeline for the corn but decided to try the pupusas, the Salvadorean cornmeal cakes that have become a market staple, instead.

After waiting in a line that was buzzing with anticipation, I placed my order for a bean stuffed tamal and the day’s special, a pupusa stuffed with flor de loroco, the tiny flower buds used as an herb throughout Central America.  The manager said yes to my taking pictures and I said yes to anything he wanted to add to my platter until it was a chaotic mix of vinegar soaked onions, pickled cabbage and sliced peppers.  When I finally found a spot on the crowded steps that face the market to eat my  jumble of flowers, I was happy to put the long winter behind me and look ahead to the pretty season that was just beginning.

A couple of weeks ago, I attended a talk at my Brooklyn’s Book Court between Thomas Keller and Peter Kaminsky.  Though technically about Keller’s latest cookbook, Ad Hoc at Home, it wasn’t strictly about food and cooking.  From process and baseball analogies, he got to ritual and repetition and I realized what I’d been missing.  Trying to post regularly, I’d become sharkish, cooking in constant motion.  I’ve gotten used to being just a few clicks away from French-Italian-Regional-Seasonal-Indian-Mexican-Caribbean.  It’s tempting to jump from one to the other, trying everything once then moving on.  Having set out to write about traditional food in a new medium, I forget that the best part can be going back, trying again, and making it a little better.  I had ritual, but my repetition was lacking. 

Looking back over my posts, the one dish that I’ve wanted to try again was frijoles negros.  The first time I wrote about them, I was finding my way through my grandfather’s recipe.  Not sure of where I was going, I focused on what came next – peppers, onions, bay leaf, simmer.

Retracing my steps through the same recipe, there were no major changes just small surprises – the way the black beans, purple tinted white onions and green peppers form orchids in the pot, the whole mashed garlic cloves that disappear into the beans, the olives I’d forgotten to add.  I was also more confident that I could correct mistakes.  Over cook them and you only need to add more water, turning back the clock to the time before you decided to answer that email or pick-up your cell phones, they’re generous little beans.  Easy to make well but hard to make great, this batch turned out better than the last.  In a few days it’ll be gone.  If I want to know more, it’s up to me to soak, chop, simmer, and repeat.

Abuelo Pelaez’s Frijoles Negros
Click here for the original post.  I’ve revised the recipe in both locations to reflect minor adjustments.

1 pound  black beans, rinsed thoroughly
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1/2  large white onion, chopped
1 green bell pepper, chopped
4-5 garlic cloves, mashed but whole
1 bay leaf

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
1/2  large white onion, finely chopped
1 green bell pepper, finely chopped
3 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 bay leaf
1/2 teaspoon cumin
1/2 teaspoon oregano
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 teaspoons salt (easier to add later than take away)

2 tablespoons sherry vinegar
1/2 cup dry white wine
1/4 green olives stuffed with pimentos, thinly sliced

1 teaspoon sugar

Soak the black beans overnight in a large pot with 10 cups of water.

Add the next five ingredients to the beans and bring to a boil.  Lower the heat to medium and simmer for 1 hour, check regularly and skim the foam that forms on the top.

To make the sofrito, warm the remaining olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat.  Add the remaining onion, green pepper and garlic and sauté for about 5 minutes till soft.  Add the bay leaf, cumin, oregano, black pepper and salt and cook for about 2 minutes more.

Add the sofrito to the pot with black beans.  Add the sherry vinegar and wine.  Bring to a boil then lower to a simmer and cook covered for about 1 to 1/2 hours, stirring frequently, till slightly thickened and cooked through.  Adjust salt and pepper to taste (carefully).

Off the heat, add the sugar.  Serve as soup, over white rice or as a side dish to just about anything.

Makes 8 servings.