Ending my record breaking game of kitchen Jenga, I finally reorganized my cabinets and closets to free up some storage, found a permanent home for my favorite serving dishes, cleared up shelf space for newer cookbooks, and chose a color for the doors and window trimmings (black beauty with a pearl finish).  My spice jars are labeled and newly potted plants are thriving (for now).  These changes might seem minor to anyone but me, but the kitchen is breathing easier.

One of the benefits of my spring cleaning fit is that I can actually see everything.  Instead of going off with a list and debit card every time I find a new recipe, I’ve been using what I have.  For me this starts with Truly Mexican by Ricardo Santibañez and JJ Goode.  I love the way the book’s galleries and guides break down the ingredients so I start from there and see where it will take me.  His suggestion to chop cilantro the Mexican way, using stems and leaves to make up the called for amount, is game changing.  I also like that he gives equivalent amounts for kosher and fine salt – a distinction I didn’t realize was tripping me up.  Looking at chiles I had stored and the bag of fideos – thin nests of Spanish noodles – I’d bought a few weeks earlier , I decided to try his fideos secos (also known as sopa seca).

I’m always a little in awe of Mexican recipes and this one seemed to go long – first you prepare a tomato based chile sauce, then you quickly fry the noodles, then you bring it to a boil with large amounts of chicken stock until most of the liquid evaporates.  Something like playing with fire, it called for four different kind of chiles (árbol, ancho, guajillo, and pasilla) prepped in three different ways – toasted, soaked and fried.  Each step added a new element of smoke or heat not to mention spices like cumin, oregano and oregano and fresh herbs like cilantro, parsley, and mint.  I enjoyed them so much that after a stressful week, I decided to make it a second time.  With my kitchen decks cleared, I could just enjoy the process.  Of course I still have a new dish drainer to install and window blinds for the kitchen to get but there’s time.

Fideos Secos/Mexican-Style Noodles
Barely adapted from Truly Mexican: Essential Recipes and Techniques for Authentic Mexican Cooking by Ricardo Santibañez.  This really is a wonderful guide through some pretty intimidating recipes so I followed it closely.  I love the selection of garnishes he suggests but replaced the pork chicharrón with cured Spanish chorizo that I lightly browned before the final simmer.  I made slight adjustments to the time probably due to my broiler which is set up too close to the heat source.  Because I usually find fideos in smaller bags, I also adjusted the amount of chicken stock I added to the end but kept the sauce proportions for the sauce.  This dish can be reheated with a little chicken broth and keeps well, wrapped and refrigerated over several days.

For the sauce:
1/2 pound tomatoes (about 2 small)
1/4 pound tomatillos, wiped clean and stemmed
2 árbol chiles, wiped clean, stemmed
4 guajillo chiles, wiped clean, stemmed, slit open, seeded and deveined
2 ancho chiles, wiped clean, stemmed, slit open, seeded and deveined
1/2 cup white onion, finely chopped
5 garlic cloves, peeled
1 (1-inch) piece canela (Mexican cinnamon)
1 1/2 teaspoons cumin seeds
1 teaspoon dried oregano, Mexican if possible
2 teaspoons kosher salt (or 1 teaspoon fine salt)
1/2 teaspoon sugar
4 to 5 cups chicken stock

For the noodles:
1 12-ounce bag fideo noodles (or thin spaghetti, such as capellini or spaghettini)
1/2 cup sunflower oil
2 pasilla chiles, wiped clean and stemmed
8 ounces cured chorizo, casings removed and sliced
10 large sprigs cilantro
6 large sprigs flat-leaf parsley
6 large springs spearmint (also known as yerba buena)
1 (3-inch) piece canela (Mexican cinnamon)

For garnishes:
4 ounces queso fresco, crumbled
1/2 cup chopped cilantro (stems and leaves)
1/2 cup salsa verde or fresh tomatillo salsa
1/4 cup Mexican crema or crème fraíche
1 avocado, pitted, peeled and thinly sliced

Prepare the sauce: Line a small roasting pan or rack with foil.  Preheat the oven broiler (alternately preheat the oven to 500º) and position the rack 8 inches from the heat source.

Core the tomato and cut a small “X” on the opposite end.  Put the tomato, cored side up, árbol chiles, and tomatillos on the baking pan and roast.  Remove chiles quickly after they’ve browned and blackened in spots, about 3-5 minutes.  Continue to roast the tomatoes until cooked through and blackened and the tomatillos have turned a khaki-green color, turning halfway through, 20 to 30 minutes.  Slip the skin from the tomatoes.

Meanwhile, soak the guajillo and ancho chiles with the toasted árbol chiles in cold water to cover until softened, about 30 minutes.  Drain and discard soaking water.

In a blender jar, combine the chiles, tomato, tomatillos, onion, garlic, canela, cumin, oregano, salt, and sugar with 1 1/2 cups of chicken stock.  Process until smooth, about 3 minutes.  Strain through a medium mesh-sieve into a bowl, discarding any solids.  Set the sauce aside.

Prepare the noodles: Break the noodles into 2- to 3-inch pieces (wrap in a cloth or break inside the bag so the pieces don’t scatter).

Heat the oil in a wide 6- to 7-quart heavy pot set over medium high heat until it shimmers.  Fry the whole pasilla chiles in the oil, turning once or twice until puffed and crisp, about 1 minute total.  Transfer to paper towels to drain.  When cool, slice the chiles crosswise and reserve for garnish.

Working in batches, fry the noodles in the oil, stirring constantly with tongs until they are a reddish-golden brown, about 2 minutes.  Drain on paper towels and repeat with remaining noodles.

Remove all but 2 tablespoons of the oil from the pot.  Add the chorizo if using and cook until lightly browned, 2 to 3 minutes.  Remove from pot and set aside.  Off heat, carefully pour the sauce into the pot (it may steam and sputter).  Return to medium heat and stir until it thickens slightly, about 5 minutes.  Stir in 3 cups of the chicken stock, then add the fried noodles, stirring briefly to coat them with sauce, and bring to a boil.

Tie the cilantro, parsley, spearmint, and canela into a bouquet with kitchen string and drop into the pot.  Reduce the heat to medium-low, cover the pot, and simmer the noodles until they are tender and have absorbed the sauce.  Discard the bouquet of herbs and canela.  Serve in soup bowls with crumbled queso fresco, crema, salsa verde, cilantro, avocado and fried pasilla.

Makes 6-8 servings.

Consulting Diana Kennedy’s My Mexico first, I decided to make them simply with scrambled eggs and corn tortillas. Cutting carefully around the edge then scraping off the nodes and protruding spines with a knife or peeler, I assumed that my New York cactus paddles were domesticated and skipped the gloves.  It only took few pin-pricks to remind me what I was dealing with and the gloves came on. After a few quick searches, I decided to scrub the paddles first with the rough side of a clean sponge to wipe away the needles then give them a quick scrape to remove some of the thicker nods.   Most recipes called for simmering or steaming the nopales beforehand but I wanted to them have some snap so I quickly sautéed them instead. Because I like my eggs on the runny, creamy side, I cooked them slowly and took them off the heat early. Adding the cilantro a little bit at a time, I thought it would overwhelm the scallions and nopales but it was perfect – the acidic nopales adding just the right element of something different.  With winter finally here and the leaves long gone, there couldn’t be enough green - exactly what I needed.

Huevos con Nopales y Cilantro/Eggs with Cactus Pieces and Cilantro
Adapted from recipe by Sra. Antonia Hernández de Gutiérrez in Diana Kennedy’s My Mexico. Most recipes called for simmering or steaming the nopales beforehand to cut down on the okra-like mucilage the vegetable releases. Finding some later versions where they were added raw, I decided to skip this step and after a few minutes it had largely cooked away. 

1 tablespoon sunflower or safflower oil
4 green scallions, white and green parts diced
3 garlic cloves, minced
Salt to taste
1 heaping cup of nopales (also known as prickly pear cactus or cactus paddles), diced
½ teaspoon dried Mexican oregano
4 eggs, lightly beaten
½ cup tightly packed fresh cilantro, stems and leaves, finely chopped

In a large saucepan, heat oil over medium heat. Add scallions and garlic and sauté for 1 minute.  Add diced nopales and oregano.   The nopales will release a mucilagenous fluid, continue to sauté until most of liquid has evaporated, an additional  3-4 minutes.  Add the beaten eggs then immediately  take heat down to lowest setting.  Stir the eggs until the curds form to desired degree of doneness.  Stir in the cilantro and remove from heat.

Serve with warm corn tortillas and slices of queso fresco.

Rarely observed in the United States, it had been years since I’d done anything to celebrate the day that was always falling mid-week, mid-flight, mid-blizzard. This past weekend, I was getting my kitchen back in order when I thought of the Mexican rosca de reyes from Fany Gerson’s My Sweet Mexico that I’d wanted to try. Made from a  sweet, brioche-like dough, the rosca is shaped into an oval crown and decorated with jewel-like candied fruits and drunk with hot chocolate. Similar to the Spanish roscón de reyes, French gâteau des rois, and Louisiana king cake, fava beans or figurines representing baby Jesus are tucked into the dough before baking so that whoever finds it gets to be king, along with the dubious honor of paying for the cake and hosting a dinner on el dia de la Candelaria or Candlemas that follows on February 2nd, though traditions vary. I almost left it for next year when Three Kings Day lands comfortably on a Sunday and there’d be plenty of time to plan a real, traditional brunch – but then I decided to do it anyway.

Running to find a store open late on New Year’s Day, I found them all closed. Unable to will them open, I ran into a nearby deli to get what I could so I could at least get it started and leave it to chill overnight. The next morning while the dough was rising a second time, I was only able to find some dried figs and candied oranges – regretting that retro sugared-up, candied fruits were so out of style and out of stores. The non-melting baby Jesus figurines were not something I kept on hand, so my choice of fava beans was as much about necessity as tradition. Of course, when we cut it up, I had no problem finding the bean since I’d been the one to hide it. Whether it’s tamales and atole for friends in February or making another King’s cake next year, I don’t mind at all.  It’s one more thing to look forward to.

Rosca de Reyes/Three Kings Bread
Adapted from Fany Gerson’s My Sweet Mexico. Gerson uses the same dough to make the rosca de reyes and pan de muerto. The original recipe called for bread flour which I didn’t have so I substituted unbleached, all purpose flour in equal parts. I had limited fruits available so I added lemon zest and tossed in raisins at the last minute.

Like pan de muerto, it’s impossible to stop decorating once you’ve started. I had a very fixed idea in my mind of how it should look, but quickly realized there are countless ways to incorporate spices, nuts. fruits, and add ins. The recipe yields enough dough to make two roscas. After the final rising, I set one in the freezer to make later in the week. The dough can be very involved and I thought it could be a good make ahead solution if it works. I’ll update then.

For bread:
2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast
2 tablespoons orange blossom water
2/3 cup whole milk
4 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon kosher salt
Orange zest from one medium orange
Lemon zest from one large lemon
4 eggs, lightly beaten
1 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/2 cup raisins (optional)

4 to 6 plastic, non-melting figurines or fava beans
3 ounces assorted candied fruits (orange, fig, acitrón or lime)*
1 egg, beaten

*For this version, I used candied oranges and dried figs.

For topping:
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
1/3 cup sugar, plus more for sprinkling (about 1/4 cup)
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Dissolve the yeast in the orange blossom water. Whisk in a 1/3 cup of the milk and 1/2 cup of the flour and blend until smooth. Leave in a warm place (about 70°F) until it begins to bubble and puffs up slightly, 20-30 minutes.

Put the remaining 3 1/2 cups of flour in the bowl of a mixer fitted with the dough hook. Add the sugar, salt, and zests and mix on low speed for about 30 seconds. Add the eggs, the remaining 1/3 cup of milk, and the yeast dough. Mix at low speed until it starts to come together. While mixing, add the butter gradually, in small pieces until incorporated, increasing the speed to medium. Continue beating for 10 to 15 minutes, until the dough is soft and comes off the sides of the bowl. If the dough is still sticky, add a little flour as needed but no more than 1/3 cup. Add in the raisins and incorporate into the dough if using.

Lightly grease a large bowl with oil or butter and place the dough inside. Cover with a towel and let rise in a warm, draft free place until doubled in size, 1 to 1 1/2 hours. Punch down the dough, gather the sides together and flip over so the bottom is on top. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate at least 4 hours or overnight. When ready to use, remove from refrigerator , uncover and place a towel on top. Leave the dough to rise in a warm place (about 70°F) and bring to room temperature, about 1 hour.

For the topping, combine the flour, sugar, butter and vanilla until well incorporated. Set aside or chill for later use.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line to baking sheets with parchment paper or  non-stick liner and set aside.

Divide the dough in two large pieces by cutting not pulling the dough. Shape each piece into a large ball. Poke a hole in the center of each and shape into a large doughnut. Tuck the beans or figurines into the bottom of the dough at random spots. Set each rosca on a baking sheet. Lightly brush the dough with the beaten egg and sprinkle with remaining sugar. Scoop out the butter topping and form into desired shapes to decorate the cake. Top with candied fruits and sliced figs.

Place in the preheated oven and bake until the tops are golden and it sounds hollow when tapped, about 40-50 minutes. Slice and serve.

Makes 2 large roscas.

Empanaditas de Calabaza/Pumpkin Turnovers

Dough for the pastry:
2 1/2 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon kosher salt
3/4 cups unsalted butter, cubed and kept cold
1/4 cup water
1 tablespoon anise seeds

For the filling:
2-lbs pumpkin, peeled, seeded and cubed into 2-inch chunks
5 ounces piloncillo (about 1 cup), roughly chopped*
1 cinnamon stick, whole
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground allspice
1/2 teaspoon ground anis
1/2 teaspoon ground clove
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

*Whole cane sugar also known as panela and sold in Latin American markets.

For the glaze:
1 egg white beaten with one tablespoon of water
Sugar for dusting

Pastry Directions:
Bring 1/4 cup of water to a simmer and pour over anise seeds in a heatproof bowl or measuring cup. Set aside until cool, about 15 minutes.

Sift together the flour, salt, and sugar. Add to the bowl of a food processor and pulse until evenly distributed. Add the cubed butter and pulse until the butter flakes into pea-sized pieces, about 15-30 seconds.

Strain the water and discard the seeds. With the machine running add the infused anise water to the dough until it just comes together, do not over mix. Pour out onto a floured surface a knead about 3-5 minutes until smooth. Shape into two discs, wrap in plastic and refrigerate until firm, at least 30 minutes or overnight.

Filling Directions:
Combine all ingredients for the filling in a large heavy pot, stirring well so that the spices are well distributed. Cover and set over medium heat, stirring frequently. Watch closely until the pumpkin releases water and the piloncillo melts, adjusting the heat as needed so that the pumpkin does not stick to the pan. Continue to cook covered until the pumpkin is dark brown and falling apart, about 30 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside to cool.

Assembly Directions:
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

If refrigerated overnight, bring the dough to room temperature before proceeding. Starting with one disc, roll out the dough to an 1/8-of an inch and cut it into circles about 4 inches in diameter. Lightly brush ridge of each circle with egg glaze.  Place a spoonful of filling in the center of each circle and fold in half. Seal the edges with the tines of a fork.

Brush with egg wash and lightly sprinkle with sugar.  Bake in upper and lower thirds of oven, switching position of sheets halfway through baking, until lightly golden, about 25 minutes. Transfer to a rack to cool at least 5 minutes.  Serve warm or at room temperature.

Makes 12 large or 24 small empanadas.

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.

We hadn’t expected to have much time in the city. My sister and I made the trip for my cousin Caro’s birthday party and were supposed to leave for their country house in Malinalco, almost two hours away, early the next morning. When our departure was delayed, we had a few stolen hours to sightsee – then acted like we were, in fact, stealing something, moving swiftly from the outdoor installations along the Paseo de la Reforma to the Museo Nacional de Antroplogía and the Pintura de los Reinos exhibit at the Palacio de Cultura Banamex. Not stopping until we reached the Zócalo, we visited the Metropolitan Cathedral and Templo Mayor before heading to the Palacio Nacional to see Diego Rivera‘s frescos – going down a side alley set to the most perfectly synchronized street seller symphony I’d ever heard. What we didn’t do was eat.  Apart from an amazing welcome lunch and late night stop at a taqueria the night before - where I learned one should always say yes to a second (or third) taco al pastor – there just hadn’t been time. Racing home, we made it just it back just before we had to leave again.

If Mexico City was another world, Malinalco was another planet. Home of the goddess Malinalxóchil, the town is set in a valley surrounded by purple mountains (or maybe just temporarily tinged lavender from the blooming jacarandas). With a reputation as a pueblo mágico, the central square faces a 16th century Augustinian convent with beautifully restored herb and flower frescos – centuries-old epemerality. After settling in, we went to Los Placeres just off the plaza. A series of small plates, mostly ordered for me, seemed to come and go at will – black bean puree topped with hibiscus leaves and bacon, light as air stuffed plantains, tequila with an orange-lime-tomato juice sangrita on the side – we ended the day tired but sated.The next morning we headed to the open air market first. I was able to get a few pictures but don’t think I could do it justice – the blackberries were the size of plums, the toys were poised to reanimate, and the sauceboats had antlers (of course I bought one). Stopping for blue corn gorditas stuffed with fava beans and topped with añejo cheese, we were pushing our time limits but wanted to explore a little more.  Before turning back, we stopped into a smaller church dedicated to Our Lady of Guadalupe. Less gilded than the Baroque churches we’d seen, I fell in love with its jewelike tones, rice and bean facade and tulle canopy. Leaving the main archaeological site for another day, we raced back to the house for Caro’s party.Of course, I thought she was kidding when she promised to recreate Havana’s Bodeguita del Medio in the middle of a golf course. I also thought her husband wasn’t serious when he stated matter-of-factly that the party, which started at 2 in the afternoon, would keep going until well past 3 in the morning. They weren’t. Sticking to her theme, she started us on mojitos and Cuban style appetizers early then followed it with picadillo and congri for lunch and white chocolate dominos and guava pastries for dessert with coffee and cigars. The food was familiar but the pacing was definitely marathon-style Mexican - any time I was flagging, I was fed. Everything was wonderful but what I most enjoyed was the pozole served toward the end of the night (maybe midnight I stopped counting) with corn kernels so plump and tender I thought they were shrimp.

I wish I could say I stayed to the very end but I fell short by about an hour. I really wanted to climb up to the El Cuauhcalli pyramid the next morning so I left a little early. An Aztec Temple of Eagle and Jaguar Warriors carved into the mountainside, some theorize it was part of a sun cult. Judging by the way the rays hit that rock at noon, I’d say they were right.  Climbing down the mountainside, we knew they’re were chilaquiles waiting, a post party cure, to take away all the pain before heading back to the city where we’d only gotten started.

The weeks between Mardi Gras and Easter are defined by what you can’t do (or can’t do just yet) – light jackets but schizophrenic weather, longer days but dark morning commutes – a period of austerity before it’s all bunnies, baskets and tulips. While I’m far from orthodox, I do try to follow the no-meat on Friday rule during lent (though full confession I only seem to remember halfway through a turkey sandwich or mid-Korean barbecue).  With friends coming over, the timing was right for seafood.

In this week’s Devour the Blog, I talked about arriving in Mexico City and making camarones al chipotle with my Tia Cely. Having stopped off there first, I wanted to make my connection and continue to my original destination, picking up here where that post left off and trying a variation she’d suggested – roasted poblano peppers filled with chipotle shrimp and set over black bean puree.

Catching up from being away, my prep was a little off. The shrimp were straighforward but the I forgot to soak the beans overnight and had to use my pressure cooker (which thankfully did not explode). I also forgot my first batch of poblanos in the broiler and had to run out for more, so I was roasting and sweating the peppers until the last minute. Nevertheless, I loved the way it all came together. Far from bleak, the almost-spring colors from the deep purple beans and emerald green peppers to the peach-pink shrimp with the added heat from the chipotles pointed to the relief that was soon to come. 

Chiles Rellenos con Camarones al Chipotle/Poblano Peppers stuffed with Chipotle Shrimp

6 poblano peppers, roasted and peeled (see note)

Camarones al chipotle, prepared

For the black bean puree :
3 cups black beans, soaked overnight and rinsed well
1 large white onion, chopped and divided
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1-2 tablespoons olive oil
Salt and pepper, herbs (oregano, cumin, fresh espazote) sherry vinegar or olive oil to taste

In a 4-6 quart pressure cooker, combine black beans, 6 cups of water, 1/2 of the chopped onion, a tablespoon of olive oil, and salt. Seal per manufacturer’s instructions. Set over medium heat and cook for 30 minutes. Remove pressure cooker from heat but do not remove lid. Allow the pressure to come down completely before opening.

While the beans are cooking, heat 1-2 tablespoons of olive oil in a heavy skillet over medium heat. Add the remaining onion and garlic and sauté for about 5 minutes until soft.

When ready to open, add the sofrito to the pot with black beans. Add herbs, vinegar, or a few more drops of olive oil to taste. Bring to a boil then lower to a simmer until completely tender, about 10-20 minutes. Adjust salt and pepper to taste. Using a food processor or blender, puree beans until smooth, adding broth from the beans as needed to reach desired consistency.  Set aside.

Make a slit in each pepper and pull out the seeds and veins. Fill with prepared shrimp. Pour half of the black been puree into serving dish and set stuffed peppers on the puree.  Serve remaining bean puree on the side.

Note: To roast the peppers, place them directly under the broiler in a baking dish, checking on them every couple of minutes and turning them until charred and puckered on every side.  Watch carefully to make sure that they do not burn through.  Once blackened evenly, they should be removed and sealed in a plastic bag for a few minutes to “sweat”.  When cool enough to handle, remove and peel off skin.

On a completely seperate note, there was some unsettling news in the New York Times about the future of Colombian Arabica crops due to climate change and the effects of quinoa’s growing popularity (which I’d included in my own round-up) on Bolivian communities where it’s cultivated.  Also in the Times, there was a great profile on Mexican chef Javier Plasencia in Josh Kun’s Master of a New Tijuana.  Closer to home, Eater reported Gonzalez y Gonzalez is still holding it’s own.  Initially, edged out of their Broadway/Houston corner by Chipotle, their landlord has divided the restaurant space in two so that both restaurants can co-exist side by side.  I haven’t been there in years, but I used to go often when I first moved to NYC and the sign always made me nostalgic, especially since Bayamo, the Chinese-Cuban place with the giant dragon that faced it, is long gone.  Still, some change is good and I was excited to read that Peruvian chef Gastón Acurio is bringing his chain La Mar Cebicheria to the flatiron district. On the art front, I caught the lastest installation of Cuban artists Los Carpinteros on its last day at the Sean Kelly Gallery in Chelsea which you can still see here.  If you’re in Miami this weekend, you still might catch Pablo Cano’s cake box tribute to Havana’s Ladies in White at the Kelley Roy Gallery. 

While it seems like I’ve been away for a few days, I was actually in Mexico so this blog was never far from my thoughts. Tired of waitng for spring to come, I decided to fly to it instead and was rewarded to jacaranda trees in full bloom. Back in New York where it’s still snowing in what I can only hope is an elaborate April Fool’s joke, I’ve been trying to desperately to hold on to the colors ever since. I have a lot to unpack so I’ll be posting more in the next few days.

I still remember going to see it with my sister and our two best friends.  Spending a spring break day in Coconut Grove at what we thought of as an art house theater, mostly because they played Almodóvar movies to packed audiences and French movies to half empty ones, we were all waiting to hear from colleges in New York (I got my acceptance that afternoon making the day that much more vivid).  It was also the first wide release we’d seen from Mexico so it satisfied our yearning for suburban bohemia until we could get to the real thing.

Won over by the beautiful story, beautiful Italian actor from Cinema Paradiso,  and beautiful food, it became one of our favorites.  Tita, Rosaura, Gertrudis, and Chencha translated into half-serious shorthand for each other when we were being self consciously noble, uncharacteristically vindictive, fiery and up for anything, or cheery beyond all reason.

Of course in a film full of swoon worthy food, the scene where she cooks with rose petals is the swooniest.  Reading over Laura Esquivel’s novel and some of the ingredients she listed – roses (preferably red), anise, honey – I had something sweet in mind and decided to make arroz con leche.  After adding the ground anise and letting is cool, I set out a few different toppings to try every possible combination – from chestnut honey to diced pitaya – the blank slate of rose infused pudding  mingling beautifully with anything I wanted to add, depending on who I felt like being just then.

Arroz con Leche y Rosas/Rose Rice Pudding
I love adding rosewater to desserts but I’m always wary – too little and it’ll be overpowered, too much and it will taste like perfume.  I made a bouquet garni (favorite new cooking term) dried rosebuds and added it to the rice and water while it boiled then removing it before adding milk, sugar and lemon zest.  Though I didn’t realize at the time, rose pudding is actually a Persian dessert called sheer berenj, seasoned with cardamon and chopped pistachios,  so I set those out as well.

1 cup medium or short grain white rice, well rinsed.
2 cups water
¼ cup dried rosebuds
4 cups of whole milk
Grated zest of one lemon
¾ cups of sugar
¼ teaspoon ground anise
1-2 tablespoons rose water (optional)

Optional toppings:

Chopped pistachios
Toasted almonds
Roasted chestnuts
Honey
Ground Cinnamon
Cumbled Maria crackers

Wrap dried rosebuds in small square of cheese cloth tightly gathered and tied together with kitchen twine, alternately use a sachet or tea strainer.  Add to large sauce pan with water and rice.  Bring to a high simmer over medium heat.  Stir occasionally until most of the water is evaporated, about 5-8 minutes.

Carefully remove the rosebuds and add the milk and lemon zest.  Return to a high simmer, stirring constantly.  Stir in the sugar.  Reduce heat to medium low.  Watch closely, stirring occasionally so that the rice does not stick to the bottom of the pan.  Continue cook until the rice is tender, 20-30 minutes.*

When the rice reaches the desired consistency, remove from heat.  Pour into a large mixing or serving bowl and stir in the ground anise and additional rose water if using.  Set aside to cool, serve warm or chilled with toasted nuts, honey, crushed cookies or cinnamon.

Notes:
*The arroz con leche will thicken slightly as it cools.  I err on the side of removing it soon because I prefer a looser pudding.  If it gets too thick, you can always stir in a little more milk at the end to reach the desired consistency.
**If storing for later consumption, press a piece of plastic wrap against the surface to prevent a skin from forming.