For this and Leticia’s other amazing recipes click here.

1 cup sugar
3/4 cups water
2 1/2 pounds carambola (star fruit), brown parts removed and roughly chopped
1 tablespoon cachaça or white rum

In a small, heavy saucepan, combine sugar with 3/4 cups water and boil for 5 minutes. Set aside to cool.

Puree carambola in a blender until smooth. Strain into a large mixing bowl, pressing down on the fruit to extract as much juice as possible. Stir in cool syrup and cachaça and chill until cold, at least two hours or overnight. Process carambola mixture in an ice cream maker according to manufacturer’s instructions. Transfer sorbet to a covered container and freeze until ready to serve.  Top with fresh fruit.

With an extra pound of fresh crab meat from a soup set back, I knew I wanted to finally try one of the incredible Brazilian seafood recipes I’m always skirting around.  I decided on Leticia Moreinos Schwartz’s Casquinhas de Siri from The Brazilian Kitchen.  I met Leticia at the Gourmet Latino Festival this summer and have loved her book (click here for the brigadeiros I tried).  Bringing together recipes from her upbringing in Rio with her training at the French Culinary Institute and experience in New York restaurants, she deftly moves between traditional and contemporary recipes, making both accessible.

For once, I had almost all the ingredients I needed so there was no need for last minute run to Manhattan’s Little Brazil (though I do love going there).  A combination of sauteed green and yellow peppers sauteed with onions and simmered with garlic, tomatoes, coconut, and crab that’s sprinkled with manioc flour, it’s every good thing packed into a seashell.  Set over Maldon salt as Leticia suggests, they give the impression of being just below the water’s surface but well within reach.

Casquinha de Siri/Stuffed Crab Shells
Recipe from The Brazilian Kitchen by Leticia Moreinos Schwartz, printed with permission. I’ve always been drawn to recipes that transform shells into serveware – pumkins, pineapples and now sea creatures.  Leticia used scallop shells but crab and clam shells also work  The guys at Fish Tales, in my neighborhood, were nice enough to set aside extra-large clam shells which worked perfectly.  If you prefer, porcelain ramekins can also be substituted.

1 cup diced white bread (about 2 slices)
1 cup (250 ml) coconut milk
1 pound jumbo lump crab meat
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/3 cup chopped onions, about half an onion
½ cup diced yellow peppers, about half a pepper
½ cup diced green peppers, about half a pepper
1 tablespoon minced garlic, about 3 cloves
½ cup diced tomatoes (about 2 tomatoes)
¼ cup dry white wine
¼ cup unsweetened grated coconut
1 teaspoon mustard
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoons fresh chopped cilantro
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
¼ tsp Old Bay seasoning

For the crust:
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
½ cup manioc flour
¼ cup grated Parmesan (optional)
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper

Maldon Sea Salt or kosher salt for presentation

Prepare the Crab Filling:
Trim the crust from the bread and discard.  Dice the bread handling it lightly, so the pieces remain fluffy.  Place the diced bread in a bowl, pour the coconut milk over, and let it soak for 10 to 20 minutes while you prepare the other ingredients.

Pick over the crab meat to remove any excess shell and set it aside.

In a medium saucepan, warm the olive oil over low heat.  Add the onion and the yellow and green peppers and cook, stirring occasionally with a wooden spoon, until they are soft and tender.

Add the garlic and cook for another minute, until it is tender.  Add the tomatoes and cook for another minute, until they get hot.  Add the wine and let half of it evaporate, about 1 to 2 minutes.

Add the bread and coconut milk together.  Add the grated coconut.  Cook, stirring, until everything starts blending together, about 3 minutes.

Turn off the heat and add the crab, mustard, and lemon juice.  Fold everything together using a wooden spoon.  Some pieces of crab will naturally shred, but try to keep some big lumps as well.  Add the butter and cilantro.

Season the crab mixture with salt, pepper, and Old Bay.  At this point the crab mixture should look colorful, soft, well mixed and feel very moist.  If your mixture looks dry, don’t hesitate to add one or two tablespoons of liquid like coconut milk, or wine.

Transfer everything to a bowl and let it cool completely.  This can be done up to two days ahead and kept in a container with a tight-fitting cover in the refrigerator.

Prepare the crust:
In a medium saucepan, melt the butter over medium-low heat.

Add the manioc flour and stir constantly with a wooden spoon, toasting the flour until it reaches a light golden color. This is a step during which you cannot take your eyes off the pan, otherwise the manioc flour might burn.

Transfer the mixture to a bowl, season with salt and pepper. Let it cool for 5 minutes at room temperature.  Add the Parmesan (if using) and mix it in evenly.

Assemble and bake the crab shells.

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

Using an ice-cream scoop to measure out equal portions, scoop the crab mixture into the shells and press it down so it fits into the shape of the shell. Repeat until all the filling is used.  Spread a thin coat of crust onto the filling.

Place the stuffed shells onto a sheet pan and bake in the oven until the filling is hot and the crust is a light golden brown, about 12 to 14 minutes.

Place a small pile of Maldon Sea Salt on the bottom of a soup plate and place the shell on top.

Makes 6 to 8 stuffed shells.

I’d been burned before.  Last summer I found an old recipe for Brazilian coconut candies called  brasileiras.  I put all the ingredients together as directed – egg yolks, freshly shredded coconut, sugar – but they wanted nothing to do with each other.  I Googled “brasilerias” to find my mistake but the results were (not surprisingly) unhelpful.  A few weeks later, I attempted beijinhos de coco or “coconut kisses”. Similar to the brasileiras, they’re a combination of condensed milk, butter, and grated coconut that are rolled into balls and decorated with a single clove.  This version called for a final dip in chocolate and almonds.  I should have known when I wasn’t able to form the coconut into balls, mounds or anything like it that I’d made a mistake somewhere.  I kept going anyway, making an expensive chocolate almond mess.  I pretended they were edible, but after a day or two, I stopped kidding myself and threw the rest away.  I hadn’t looked a coconut in the eyes since.

That’s where I was yesterday when I read Julia Moskin’s New York Time’s article, “Milk in a Can Goes Glam“, that included this recipe for coconut brigadeiros by Leticia Moreinos Schwartz.  I needed something to bring to a friend’s house and these would be perfect (if it worked).  As Leticia explains:

“Brigadeiros are like the cupcakes of Brazil,” Ms. Moreinos Schwartz said. “They are at every birthday party.” (They are named for a once-popular politician, Brigadier Eduardo Gomes, who ran for president in 1945 under the slogan “Vote no brigadeiro, que é bonito e é solteiro” — “Vote for the brigadier, who’s good-looking and single.”)

Traditionally, brigadeiros have added cocoa powder and the fudge is then rolled in chocolate sprinkles.  The coconut version is similar to beijinhos, but I didn’t mind switching the chocolate to coconut as long as they had a new name (with a flirty origin) to make a fresh start.

Brigadeiros de Côco/Coconut Brigadeiros
Barely adapted from Leticia Moreinos Schwartz, The Brazilian Kitchen.  The recipe is straightforward, but I made sure I had a spare can of condensed milk in case I need to start over.  It called for corn syrup, which I usually avoid, but wasn’t taking any chances.  When my first batch produced the blob as promised, I decided to use my spare ingredients to switch out the corn syrup for honey.  Darker and sweeter, I decided to roll them in toasted coconut.

1 cup sweetened condensed milk
1/2 cup coconut milk
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 teaspoons light corn syrup or mild honey
1 cup finely shredded unsweetened coconut (see note).

In a medium-size heavy saucepan, combine condensed milk, coconut milk, butter, corn syrup, and 1/2 cup shredded coconut. Bring to a boil over medium heat. Reduce heat to medium-low and whisk constantly until fudgy and whisk leaves trails in the mixture, 8 to 10 minutes. When mixture is ready, it will pull together into one soft piece, leaving browned residue on bottom of pan.

Slide mixture into a bowl. (Don’t scrape the pan; leave any residue behind.) Let cool to room temperature, then refrigerate until very firm, 3-4 hours.

Place remaining 1 cup of coconut in a wide bowl.  Scoop out a teaspoon of batter and roll into a ball.  Drop into the coconut as you finish rolling it.  Roll 4 to 6 brigadeiros at a time through coconut, covering surface completely. Lift out and shake off the excess.  Store in an airtight container at room temperature for 2 days, or refrigerate for up to 1 month. Serve at room temperature.

Yield: About 30 brigadeiros.

Note: If you’d like to toast coconut for rolling.  Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Spread remaining coconut on a baking sheet checking often and stirring regularly, about 4-5 minutes.

A combination of limes, sugar, and cachaça, the Brazilian liquor made from fermented sugar cane, you can also use vodka to make a caipiroskas or light rum for a caipiríssima.  I briefly considered holding my glass out the window for a caipisnowcone.  However, you mix it, it’s worth the Fat Tuesday effort lest you wake up on Ash Wednesday all repentance and no sin.

Caipirinha
I’d made some for a family brunch that were a knockout.  Literally, I knocked everyone out, though I have to say that when they came to no one held it against me.  Wanting to avoid the same mistake, I adjusted my ratio of lime to cachaça per Claudia’s instructions.  If you can find sugar cane stalks, they make great stirrers for caipirinhas or mojitos.

1 lime, cut in eight pieces
1 tablespoon sugar
2 oz. cachaça
Crushed ice

Muddle the lime and sugar in an 8-10 ounce glass.  Add crushed ice to fill and pour in cachaça.  Stir and serve.

*Click here for a slightly different take and more recipes from A Thirsty Spirit, a great beverage site from my friend Alexis.

I’d been looking for a way to use chirimoyas since I came across them a few months ago in a nearby market.  Originally found in the Andean region between Peru and Ecuador, they’re also cultivated in small pockets throughout Chile, California, Spain, New Zealand, Australia, and Israel.  Heart-shaped and scaly, they could be a dragon’s paw and are almost as rare in my Brooklyn neighborhood, so I was excited when I found them.  Also known as custard apples, they’re like everything and like nothing else.  The fruit can be likened to strawberry, banana, pineapple, papaya, avocados, mango, ripe pears, and commercial bubble gum while Mark Twain described it more simply as “deliciousness itself.”

Not sure where to start, I found a Peruvian recipe for a meringue cake using chirimoyas.  I was worried that the combination of sugary meringue, manjarblanco (also known as dulce de leche) and sweetened cream would be too much.  I decided to shape the layers of meringue into smaller pavlovas to make individual desserts.  Believed to have originated in New Zealand and named after the Russian ballerina Anna Pavlova, it was a fitting choice.  After the whipping and whirring of the meringue, the crisp exterior of the meringues gave way to a mashmallowy center that mixed well with the manjarblanco.  Meanwhile, the chopped chirimoya balanced out the sweetness like a dancer who spins and flies then lands perfectly on point as though it couldn’t have ended any other way.  It was too much but just enough.

Merengues con Chirimoya/Pavlovas with Cherimoya
Adapted and translated from Yanuq from their recipe for merengado de chirimoya.  Though there are several steps, the pavlovas can be made well in advance and assembled just before serving.  Why the grated chocolate didn’t drive it all over the edge, however, I can’t explain.  I just know it worked.

1 whole chirimoya, peeled and diced (about 1 lb.)

4 egg whites, room temperature
Pinch of salt
1 1/2 cups of sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 tablespoon potato starch

1/2 cup manjarblanco (or dulce de leche, arequipe, cajeta)

1 cup of heavy whipping cream
1/4 cup powdered sugar

Grated bittersweet chocolate (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.  Using a small bottle or cup, trace 6 circles on the parchment paper, about 3″ each.  Turn paper face down on the baking sheet and set aside.

In a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, beat the egg whites with a pinch of salt on medium-high until frothy.  Combine the sugar, baking powder, and potato starch.  Gradually add the sugar mixture and continue to beat until it forms stiff peaks.

Fill a pastry bag fitted with a star tip with the meringue.  Pipe a disc of meringue to fill each circle on the prepared sheet then an a additional layer along outer circle to form a border.

Place the meringues in the preheated oven and immediately lower heat to 190 degrees.  Bake for two hours occasionally rotating pans.  Remove from oven and cool on a rack.

While the meringues cool, beat the heavy cream until slightly thickened. Gradually add the powdered sugar and continue to beat until soft peaks form.

To serve, place one meringue on dessert plate.  Add about one tablespoon of manjarblanco to the center of each meringue and top with a round tablespoon of chopped chirimoya and cover with whipped cream.  If using, garnish with grated chocolate.

Though I’d love to have homemade rolls every day, I stay away from bread recipes for first thing.  They never seem to rise and bulk up in the time promised.  I wake up early and spend the morning nervously peeking at the dough I lovingly covered in its blanky and placed in a draft free place to no avail.  One hour becomes two and there’s no breakfast in sight.  By the time it’s done, I’m too cranky to really enjoy it.  I didn’t get to sleep in yet the dough enjoyed a leisurely rise.  When I came across pan de yuca or yuca bread in a Miami, I was curious.  A combination of yuca flour (also known as tapioca starch) and cheese, it can be mixed and rolled as quickly as arepas then baked off.  

Searching for online recipes, I was surprised that I hadn’t heard of them before.  Popular at snack stands throughout Latin America, they’re known as pan de queso in Colombia, pão de queijo in Brazil, and chipas in Argentina while a popular food chain sells them with yogurt throughout Ecuador.  Though the dough can be made ahead of time, I started them this morning to see if they were as straightforward as they seemed.  I combined the dry ingredients and added grated mozzarella and two yolks.  Expecting something to go wrong, the mass of crumbly powdered cheese didn’t look like it could ever become a smooth mass.  I considered transferring it to a food processor or starting over, but after adding a little cream and kneading it a few minutes, it quickly took form.  In about twenty minutes, I had warm rolls, crumbly like bread but creamy like cheese.  Mostly, I loved that I could decide to make them in the haze of the early morning then have them right away, no rest required.

Pan de Yuca
Recipe from Ingrid Hoffman for her show Simply Delicioso.

Though I used mozzarella this time, similar recipes also suggest Oaxaca, queso blanco, Parmesan, or Cotija.  While they’re great for breakfast, they’re a perfect any time snack to have with coffee, tea, hot chooclate or as a side dish for lunch or dinner.

1 cup yuca harina*
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 cups fresh white cheese (Oaxaca, Mozzarella or Queso Blanco), finely grated
2 egg yolks, lightly beaten
2-3 tablespoons heavy cream, as needed

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil, coat with cooking spray and set aside.

In a large mixing bowl, combine the yuca harina and baking powder.  Stir in the grated cheese and eggs.  Mix well until a ball forms.  Turn out onto a floured board and knead with your hands until smooth.  If the dough still appears too dry, add cream one tablespoon at a time as needed.

Divide into 10 even pieces and roll into balls.  Place at least 1″ apart on prepared baking sheet.  Bake 15-20 minutes until golden.**  Cool on wire rack for 5-10 minutes.  Serve warm.

*Also known as tapioca starch/almidon de yuca/manioc starch, it’s widely available online or in Latin American markets.  It should not be confused with manioc flour used for farofa which is darker and has a grainier texture.

**I placed them under the broiler for an additional minute to brown evenly.  They will darken quickly under the broiler and should be checked frequently.

I’ve been going through this week’s New York Times travel section featuring Latin America, specifically  an awakened Chile, colonial Colombia, 36 Hours in Montevideo, Rio hot spots, Peruvian restaurants, and rejuvenated Mazatlán.  Travel exhausts me but its a fun read.

With the constant threat of rain, I did my usual food shopping this weekend under a white sky.  Along with the usual Mccann’s oatmeal, baby spinach, and salmon, I’m constantly running out for more peppers, plantains, and vino seco since starting this blog, loving the colors they add.  Walking through the gray today on a search for coconuts (more on that later), I couldn’t help but feel happy despite the rain.  I’d wanted to post this version of Aquarela do Brasil for a few weeks and today seemed like the perfect day, even more so when I read the composer, Ary Barroso, wrote it during a thunderstorm.