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.

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

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.

It was on my last trip home that I found this recipe for chestnut crepes in an old copy of Vanidades I’d smuggled out of her house on my way to the airport (seriously I don’t know why she lets us in). Filled with ricotta cheese, chopped marrons glacés and drizzled with honey, I thought they’d make a great mother’s day breakfast. We’d taken a trip to Paris to celebrate her birthday and since then she’d been searching out pans and paddles to send me in the hopes I’d become her little crêpe-making machine (oddly enough, pushier than she’s ever been about making her grandchildren, another reason I love her).

Out of season, chestnut flour was harder to find then I expected. A gluten-free alternative to wheat-based flours, I tried Whole Foods first then smaller health food stores with little luck. I considered substitutions but I had my mind set on chestnuts so I kept looking. Finally, I made a last minute run to Buon Italia where they had every kind I could want – floured, candied, and honeyed.  I was relieved to find it. Mother’s day is a no-compromise holiday and it seems impossible not to do everything you can for the women who are always doing everything they can for you.

Crêpas de Castaña con Miel/Chestnut Crepes with Honey
Adapted from Vanidads, Añ0 49, Numero23. I had beginner’s luck the first few times I made crepes so I started skipping steps like allowing the batter to rest and clarifying the butter. After a few so-so results, I could appreciate that they really were worth the trouble.

For crepe batter:
1 ¼ cup cold water
4 ounces unbleached, all-purpose flour
4 ounces chestnut flour
1 ounce chestnut honey
1 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
2 eggs, lightly beaten
Pinch of salt

For filling
16 ounces fresh ricotta cheese
8 marrons glaces, roughly chopped

2 tablespoons clarified unsalted butter or more as needed

5 tablespoons chestnut honey, divided

Sift together the flours and salt in a separate bowl breaking up any lumps. Combine the flours, eggs, honey and melted butter in a blender jar. Cover and blend at highest speed for 1 minute. Scape down the sides with a rubber spatula as needed and blend for 2 to 3 seconds more. Cover and refrigerate for at least 2 hours or overnight.

Heat a heavy cast-iron skillet or crêpe pan over moderately high heat. Brush with about tablespoon of clarified butter or oil. Take pan off heat and, holding the handle of the pan, pour 1/4 cup of the batter into the middle of the pan. Tilt the pan in all directions to so that batter evenly coats the bottom of the pan. Return to heat and cook for 30 to 60 seconds until lightly browned. Turn and cook on the other side an additional 30 seconds. Cool on a rack before stacking on a plate. Add more butter or oil as needed and repeat with remaining batter.*

Spread crêpes with two heaping tablespoon of ricotta filling. Roll jelly-roll style or fold in half.

*Crêpes can be kept in a 200 degree oven until ready to serve. They can also be made in advance and reheated before using or frozen. If frozen, thaw overnight in the refrigerator then reheat in a 300 degree oven for 5-10 minutes.

Makes 8-10 crêpes.

Newly in love with my spring cleaned shelves, I decided to make arepas de dominó, stuffed with black beans and cheese, relying mostly on what I had on hand.  With little shopping to do apart from peppers and onions, I had to time to obsess about other things, namely what cheese to add.  Though Mexican queso blanco and some Colombian varieties have become common, Venezuelans always complain about the trouble they have finding cheese north of Miami.  Luis, my new market friend, pointed me towards El Cocotero that sometimes sells the fresh cheese they use in their restaurant.  He recommended queso llanero or guayanés though I was only able to find the latter. The queso quayanés was closer to a fresh mozzarella or burrata than the queso blanco I normally use, not quite melting but pooling into the black beans and worth the trouble of seeking out.

Arepa de Dominó/Arepas with Black Beans and Cheese
Since it opened up around the corner, I’ll use any excuse to visit Union Market.  Bright, always stocked with samples, and piping in the a soundtrack that inspires occasional dancing in the aisles, it’s the breakfast at Tiffany’s of neighborhood grocery stores in that I can’t imagine anything bad happening there.  Already planning on making arepas, this is where I met Luis who apart from the lead on Venezuelan cheese shared a few tips on how he makes arepas for his family, that Venezuelans call frijoles negros caraotas, and that where he’s from in the Eastern part of Venezuela they add a little sugar to the dough.  He also suggested stirring in a little butter or oil to the masa.  Small changes but they were definately the creamiest arepas I’ve made and even puffed up slightly as promised.  The filling can soak through the arepa so I made them larger and thicker than usual.

1 cup masarepa, preferably Harina P.A.N., white or yellow
1 teaspoon sugar
½ teaspoon kosher salt
1 ½ cup hot water
1 tablespoon melted butter or canola oil

1-2 tablespoons canola oil

For filling:
Caraotas negras, prepared (also known as frijoles negros or black turtle beans)
Queso guayanés or fresh mozzarella, cubed

Combine the dry ingredients. Pour water into a medium mixing bowl.  Add cornmeal in a steady stream, whisking constantly to avoid clumps. Stir in the melted butter or oil. Knead until well mixed and set aside to rest, about 5-10 minutes.

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

Divide the dough in quarters and shape each piece into a ball.  Using the bottom of a flat measuring cup or mixing bowl, lightly press down on the dough to form a disc about 1-1 ½” thick.

In a cast iron or heavy skillet, heat oil over medium high heat.  Add the arepas and cook until lightly golden and crisp, about 4-6 minutes on each side.  Transfer to a baking sheet and bake an additional 15-20 minutes until cooked through.  Split open and fill with caraotas negros and cubed cheese.

Makes 4-6 arepas.

After a few days in this in-between state, it’s soothing to come across any one thing that’s consistent and unchanging.  This time it was Panques de Jamaica.  Set under identical square shaped cake stands, guarding the windows of Miami’s coffee kiosks, it couldn’t be more fitting that their logo is a rooster.  Plain as madeleines but denser (and fatter), they go well with tea but are really built to stand up to a heaping café con leche.  More pound cake than muffin, with a tight even crumb, they’re topped by a smooth dome that can’t be cleanly taken apart but only pecked at like a bird.

The only nod to time passing is that they’re now sold sealed in loose plastic bags like ill fitting uniforms.  Noticing the new label, I was struck by the short, simple ingredients list that not even Michael Pollan could object to.  Having assumed that they fell into industrial Twinkie category along with everything else I used to love but have learned to fear, I felt so much affection for the tight little cakes that had held their own against the over-processed onslaught.  The “panqué legitimo” stamped at the bottom of every one sold, seemed less like a logo, and more like a creed.

Of course the illegitimate ones are great too and there are a million variations.  I loved the miniature  panquecitos that were brought to your table at Versailles if you were early enough for breakfast, one of my favorite rituals whenever I’m home.  Regardless of the hour, we were welcomed by Ernesto, the maitre’d who’d been there as long as I could remember, always perfectly pressed in a three piece suit whether it was 8AM,  8PM or 80+ degrees outside.  When he wasn’t there last year, I had the terrible feeling that something was wrong and learned he’d passed away a few months before.  I also noticed that the panquecitos never made it to the table though it only seemed right that something should be missing.  When I went back again this Christmas, they were still gone and Versailles was irrevocably different in the same way.  In the conceit that you’re hometown should stand still, Brigadoon-like when you’re not there, these two events felt somehow connected, and I couldn’t help but feel that Ernesto had taken them with him.

Panquecitos de Naranja
Adapted from Nitza Villapol’s Cocina Criolla.  Finding a recipe to follow was more difficult than I imagined.  I used to have trouble with cakes and finally found tricks and techniques to make them airy and light.  Panques on the other hand can be a little plain, dense and best the next day for dunking.    Though literally “pound cakes” with an accent, I couldn’t find any recipes that were even close to the traditional quatre-quarts proportions of 1-lb each of flour, sugar, butter, and eggs.

I made the first batch like madeleines, letting them chill a few hours to get the smooth bump, but they came out too crisp (and a little pretentious).  Trying a different recipe altogether, I carefully folded in the flour the ingredients and they were too tender, more cupcake than poundcake.

I knew that I wanted to add some orange and almond flavor and finally found a version to play with that included milk for added moisture.  The crumb was even though they didn’t quite dome as prettily as Iwould have liked.  While they were still warm, I brushed them with a quick orange glaze for additional sweetness.

4 oz. unsalted butter
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon almond extract
Freshly grated zest of one orange

2 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon kosher salt

1/3 cup whole milk
1/3 cup orange juice

For syrup:
¼ cup orange juice
¼ cup sugar

Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter ½-cup muffin pan and set aside.

Sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt and set aside.  Combine milk and orange juice in a small cup or bowl and set aside.

In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat butter on medium speed for one minute.  Gradually add the sugar and continue to beat on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes.  Add eggs one at a time, beating for about 30 seconds after each addition.  Beat in almond extract and orange zest.  Batter may separate.  On low speed or by hand, add flour mixture in three batches alternating with the milk mixture and ending with the flour.

Pour batter into prepared pan and bake in the middle of the oven until a tester comes out clean, about 25-30 minutes.  Remove from oven and cool on a rack for about 5 minutes.  Unmold and set upright on cooling rack.

To prepare the syrup, combine the lime juice and sugar in a small saucepan over medium heat.  Stir until sugar dissolves.  Lightly brush panques with orange syrup.

Normally, I go with the plain version made with potatoes and onions that I first learned in Madrid (where it’s never late).  The simplicity of a traditional tortilla is hard to improve upon and adding ham, chorizo or peppers makes it different but not always better.  I changed my mind when I spotted a tray of Spanish chorizo in a butcher shop on Smith Street that looked to good to pass up – so I didn’t.  After lightly browning the chorizo and adding the garlic and peppers, I slow-cooked the potatoes and onions in new Chilean olive oil I was trying out.  For once the potatoes didn’t drown out the chorizo though next time I’ll lightly roast the peppers first.  Two harrowing flips later, it was set and cooling.

I always associate tortillas with the holidays.  A tortilla with plantains is the first thing I ask for when I land in Miami and Christmas morning my aunt always orders a few sky-high ones from Delicias de Espana -more pillow than omelette- to start the day of picadera.  Versatile and even better the next day, it’s great with toasted baguette and topped with aioli and red roasted peppers when I’m in a rush and alongside white rice and black beans when I’m not.  Made on a Sunday afternoon when I had all the time in the world, it got me through the nights when I didn’t have any time at all.

Tortilla de Papas y Chorizo
This was the first dish I made for my grandparents as an adult (or at least I thought I was) and I remember the relief I felt when my grandfather announced I had found el punto de la papa – the point where the potatoes are just cooked through enough to easily split in half.  Of course, the flip is the most nerve wrecking part and, as I’ve said before, I’m superstitious about anyone else being in the kitchen when I do it.  Or maybe I just want to buy myself some time in case I need to repair the damage.

1 green bell pepper, chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 Spanish-style chorizo, about 5 ounces, cut into ¼” pieces

3-4 medium, Yukon gold potatoes, peeled and cut into slices a 1/4″ thick
1 medium yellow onion, chopped
¾ cup extra virgin olive oil
6 large eggs, well beaten
1 tsp salt plus more to taste

Heat the one tablespoon of the olive oil in large heavy skillet over medium heat.  Add the chorizo and sauté until lightly browned, about 2-3 minutes.  Add the peppers and garlic and sauté, about 3 minutes.  Remove the chorizo and peppers from the pan and set aside.

Add the remaining olive oil to skillet and return to medium heat.  Add the potatoes and onions to the skillet and turn with a spatula, careful not to let them brown.  Sauté until the potatoes are just tender and break apart with slight pressure from the spatula, about 20 minutes.

Beat the eggs with the salt in a separate bowl.  Remove potatoes and onions with a slotted spoon and add to the beaten eggs.  Add the chorizo-peppers mixture and combine.  Adjust salt to taste.  Pour out all but about 1 tablespoon of oil and set aside.*  Add the egg mixture to the skillet and cook over medium heat until the eggs begin to set and the underside is lightly browned.

Take the skillet off the burner and cover with a large plate.  Holding the plate down firmly, quickly turn over the skillet so that the tortilla slides out onto the plate.   Return skillet to medium heat and add additional oil if needed.  Slide tortilla back into the skillet and cook on the other side, an additional 5-7 minutes until it reaches desired degree of doneness.

Flip the tortilla one more time onto serving plate.  Serve at room temperature, sliced into wedges or cut into squares.

*Note – I sometimes strain the oil I’ll be using and wipe out the skillet to remove any overcooked pieces of onion or potato before adding the eggs so that it slides out easily when flipped.

With so many variations, I wasn’t sure which way to go.  Most recipes called for equal parts milk and wine or even just red wine.  My sweet side won out so I soaked the bread with milk boiled with a little sugar and cinnamon before drizzling it with wine.  While the bread soaked, I thought they would never hold together for the final egg dip but they did.  Lightly fried, they crisped up quickly while remaining moist throughout, taking up the orange-anise syrup without becoming soggy or overly sweet.  I was happy I’d chosen a good Italian wine that I’d been saving.  At first, pouring it over bread to be fried seemed wasteful but for once I didn’t care.  I love eating wine and being back in the kitchen and finally making torrijas became it’s own special occasion.

Torrijas al Vino
Apart from the milk to wine ratio, I also debated between deep frying in a flavorless oil like canola or lightly frying them in olive oil.  I tried both and preferred the flavor that the olive oil added, keeping the savory and sweet in balance. 

1 day old baguette, cut on the horizontal into 1″-thick slices
1 cup whole milk
1 tablespoon sugar
1 cinnamon stick
2″ strip of orange peel
1 cup dry red wine
3 eggs, well-beaten

Olive oil for frying

For syrup:
1 cup of sugar
1 cup of water
1/4 cup of orange juice
2-3″ strip of orange peel
1 cinnamon stick
3 star anise
1/2  teaspoon vanilla

Place slices of bread in a deep dish or glass baking pan.

Combine the milk, sugar, orange peel, and cinnamon stick in a small saucepan.  Heat over medium heat until it just begins to boil.  Remove from heat and allow to cool slightly.  Pour over the slices of bread.  Pour red wine over the bread, turning the slices over so they soak up as much liquid as possible.

Add the oil to a large heavy skillet, about 2-3″ deep.  Heat over medium-high heat to 365 degrees.

Using a slotted spoon or spatula, lift the bread slices of the milk and wine mixture and dip into the beaten eggs, coating evenly.

Carefully, add the bread to the hot oil and turn until brown on both sides, about 2 minutes.  Remove and drain on paper towels or cooling rack.

To make the syrup, combine all ingredients except for vanilla in a heavy saucepan and bring to a boil.  Cook until it reaches the thread stage (230° F).  Remove from heat and add vanilla while still warm.

The syrup can be poured over the torrijas before serving or on the side, warm or at room temperature.

Makes 4-6 servings.

Willing but unconvinced, I chopped the scallions and garlic and sauteed them in butter.  I added equal parts milk and water and adjusted the seasoning.  While the soup simmered, I toasted some slices of baguette, lightly drizzled with olive oil.  By the time I dropped in the eggs, I was hopeful that I had something other than warmed over milk.  Ladling the soup over chopped cilantro, it came to life.  I set the cooked eggs over the toasted bread so I could break up the yolk slowly, working scallions and fresh herbs into every spoonful.  I was happy to be proven wrong.

Until recently, I saw comfort food as a kind of retreat.  A retreat from everyday anxieties, a retreat from the seasonal-locavore police, a retreat from knowing better but having it anyway because nutrition is the last thing you’re worried about at the moment.  This was different.  More than comforted, I felt restored.  I wasn’t surprised to learn later that Simón Bolívar gave it to his troops.  Associated with nostalgia and looking backward, I’d underestimated comfort food’s ability to get you through what lies ahead.

Changua/Milk Soup with Eggs
Though often served for breakfast, this soup can also be a light lunch or dinner.  The toasted bread can be broken up into the soup or served on the side.  It’s also considered a great cure for hangovers.

1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 garlic clove, minced
3 large scallions, finely sliced
2 cups whole milk
2 cups water
4 large eggs
1/4 cup cilantro, finely chopped
Salt and white pepper

Melt butter in a large heavy pot over medium heat.  Sauté the garlic and scallions until translucent, about 3 minutes.  Add milk and water to pot and bring to a high simmer over medium-high heat.  Add salt and pepper to taste.  Break eggs into a small bowl or cup and then drop them, one by one, into the simmering liquid.  Cover and cook the eggs to desired degrees of doneness, about three minutes.  Remove from heat.

Spoon the chopped cilantro into shallow soup bowls or large serving bowl.  Ladle the soup on top.  Place a slice of toasted bread in the center of each bowl and top with the cooked egg.  Garnish with additional cilantro, salt and pepper.