Coming out on Roosevelt and Main, Steven warned us that every trip out there is a new experience, different vendors, new food stalls.  My head swimming from the smell of roasted duck wafting out of the first stand we passed, I did my best to keep track of where we were going so that I could find them again but it was hopeless.  After a few blocks, I lost what little sense of direction I had.  Here are a few images from the day:

]]> http://hungrysofia.com/2010/03/15/chinatown/feed/ 0 hungrysofia IMG_7533 IMG_7540 IMG_7546 IMG_7545 IMG_7546 IMG_7549 IMG_7553 IMG_7555 IMG_7559 IMG_7561 IMG_7560 IMG_7563 IMG_7565 IMG_7566 IMG_7568 IMG_7564 IMG_7571 IMG_7569 IMG_7573 IMG_7578 IMG_7575 IMG_7586 http://hungrysofia.com/2010/03/13/performance-break/ http://hungrysofia.com/2010/03/13/performance-break/#comments Sat, 13 Mar 2010 17:06:49 +0000 hungrysofia http://hungrysofia.com/?p=3695 ]]> If you’d asked me about performance art a few months ago, I wouldn’t have had a very strong opinion.  While I keep an open mind, I’ve always preferred the Met to P.S.1 and masters painting infantas to hipsters painting each other.  That changed when I went to the opening of  Tania Bruguera: On the Political Imaginary at the Neuberger Museum of Art until April 11.  I’d always heard about her pieces from friends, but it was incredible to experience twenty years of the artist’s work simultaneously.  Featuring multiple performances of her work, I saw walls lined with tea packets in “Poetic Justice” (2002-3), was blinded by klieg lights in “Untitled (Kassel, 2002)”, and had my heart broken by the stench of sugar cane in “Untitled (Havana, 2000)”.

Inspired by Tania and anxious to see more, I went to a members preview of Marina Abramovic: The Artist Is Present opening at tomorrow at MoMA and running until May 31.  Aptly named, she will be present and sitting in the museum’s atrium for 716 hours and thirty minutes at a table with an empty chair.  Visitors are invited to wait in line to sit across from her for any length of time.  In the galleries, actors trained by the artist recreate her most famous pieces while small screens play video footage of the original works.  While many focused on her ability to endure, I was more impressed her perfect concentration and well…presence in everything she did.  I couldn’t help but think of all the devices – books, magazine, iPhones, iPods – I use to make me feel that I’m not where I am – on a run, on the subway, in waiting rooms.  A parallel universe I keep charged and with me at all times.  Of course, that didn’t stop me from using iPhone to take this picture:

Click here and here for more information about both exhibits.

With the weather warm enough to wander – head-up, ballet flats, scarf-as-accessory – I took the long way to Soho through Chinatown.  I couldn’t have been happier if there were actual leaves on the trees.  I was having my first scoop of outdoor ice cream (red bean) from the Chinatown Ice Cream Factory when I decided to look into a few grocery stores to find the ingredients for ube ice cream.  Made from a purple yam native to the Philippines, I tried it for the first time last Spring when I did a market tour with my blogging group that ended with us making a traditional Filipino meal led by Chef Annette Tomei at the French Culinary Institute.  With a new tour planned for this weekend almost a year later, I couldn’t wait another minute and decided to break out the ice cream maker.

After a few misses, I finally found the yam powder packets exiled far from the Chinese powders in the curry section of Hong Kong Market.  I stocked up on the boiled beans and jellied fruits we’d added in class but decided to throw in a few of brigadeiros as an alternative.  I didn’t have the shaved ice to make it a true halo-halo sundae but I’d had enough snow for awhile anyway.

Ube Ice Cream
Adapted from Memories of Philippine Kitchens by Amy Besa and Romy Doroton by Anette Tomei of Wander, Eat and Tell.  At the time of the class, my teacher Steven Shaw asked why there weren’t more Filipino restaurants in the US on his e-Gulltet site.  The question is still out there because a recent article in the Los Angeles Times wondered the same thing.

1/2 cup cream
1/2 cup milk
1 cup coconut milk
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup ube powder
1/2 pound (2 cups) frozen ube puree, thawed

1 1/2 cups cream
1 1/2 cups milk
3/4 cup sugar

In a medium saucepan, combine 1/2 cup cream, 1/2 cup milk, the coconut milk and 3/4 cup sugar. Bring to a simmer over medium heat, whisking well.

Add the ube powder. Whisk well. Whisk in the ube puree, lower the heat. Switch to a wooden spoon. Stir constantly until the mixture starts to pull away from the sides of the pan. Reserve.

In a clean saucepan, combine 1 1/2 cups cream, 1 1/2 cups milk, and 3/4  cup sugar. Add the ube mixture, whisking well until completely blended. Simmer for 2 minutes.

Pour into a bowl and set the bowl in an ice bath. Stir frequently until completely cool.

In a blender, blend the mixture until smooth. Strain. Chill in the refrigerator until completely cold, at least 3 hours.

Freeze according to the directions for your ice cream machine. Store frozen in an airtight container.

Butifarrón Sabroso/Caribbean Meat Loaf
Adapted from Puerto Rican Cookery by Carmen Aboy Valldejuli.

1 1/2 pounds lean ground beef
3 slices sandwich bread, crusts removed
1 cup of water
1 green pepper, seeded and quartered
1 sweet red pepper, seeded and quartered
2 garlic cloves, peeled
1 medium yellow onion, peeled and quartered
4 fresh cilantro leaves
1 ounce salt pork, washed
2 ounces lean cured ham, washed
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1 egg lightly beaten with 2 teaspoons of salt
1 14 ounce can of diced tomatoes
1 medium onion, peeled and sliced in thin rings

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

Place meat in a large mixing bowl.  Crumble bread over water and soak.  Squeeze to drain excess water.  Add bread to bowl and mix.

In a food processor, add peppers, garlic, quartered onion, cilantro, salt pork and ham.  Pulse a few seconds at a time until well combined but not a paste.

Add pepper mixture, oregano, and beaten eggs two ground beef and mix until just combined.  Form into loaf and place in a 9 x 13 glass baking dish.

Place in preheated oven and bake until lightly browned, about 15 minutes.  In a food processor, add tomatoes and pulse a few seconds until smooth.

Lower heat to 375 degrees.  Pour tomatoes over meatloaf, evenly coating.  Cover loosely with aluminum foil and bake for one hour, basting occasionally.  Cover meatloaf with onions and bake an additional 30 minutes.

Serves 6 to 8.

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 instead, but what to call them?

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 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.

I was flipping through José Andrés’ Made in Spain when I came across a recipe for olive oil pancakes.  I’ve been on a pancake tear lately and was intrigued by his emphasis on Spanish products to make all-American pancakes – olive oil, chocolate, and honey.  I’d always preferred Spanish olive oil, but I had never thought about Spanish chocolate.  That morning, I found a 2 kilo bar of dark artisanal chocolate from Aragon at the Co-Op.  I don’t know how I could have missed it , it was enormous.  I heaved it into my bag and headed home.

Wanting to follow the recipe to the letter, I looked everywhere for Spanish honey to no avail.  Living in New York City, you assume you can find anything and at any place and if possible at any hour.  A reward for the challenge of living here – you may still rent and the subways don’t work on the weekend but look at all the imported mustard you get to choose from.  Despite this, finding high quality Spanish products can still be a challenge.  I found domestic, Argentinian, French and Italian honey in every flavor you could imagine.  The closest I got to Spain was Valencian Lemon Honey that was stamped everywhere as a product of France.

When another snow storm presented itself I couldn’t let the pancake morning pass and opted for the Orange Blossom honey I already had.  I added a little orange zest to the batter but let the pancakes be about the chocolate which was dark and smooth with hints of cinnamon.  I thought the batter might be too heavy but after the first flip they puffed up right away – definitely more cake than pan but healthier for the olive oil.  Now if I could only find that honey.

Tortitas de Aceite de Oliva/Olive Oil Pancakes
Barely adapted from José Andrés’ Made in Spain.  Click here for the original recipe.

1 3/4 cups unbleached, all purpose flour
2 tablespoons sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
Finely grated zest of 1 orange (optional)
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 1/2 cups buttermilk
4 tablespoons Spanish extra-virgin olive oil, plus more if necessary
1/3 cup dark chocolate, preferably Spanish broken into small pieces
1/4 cup honey*

Whisk together all of the dry ingredients and zest.  Stir in egg, buttermilk, and 2 tablespoons of olive oil until just blended.  Fold in the chocolate pieces.  Allow batter to rest 15 minutes.

Heat the remaining two tablespoons of olive oil in a medium skillet over medium low heat.  Ladle 1/4 cup of pancake mixture into the pan and cook until golden brown, about 1-2 minutes on each side.  Repeat with remaining batter.

Serve immediately or keep warm in the oven at 200 degrees.

*Andres recommends Spanish lemon honey.  If this is unavailable, he suggests combining one-fourth cup honey with one-half teaspoon lemon zest in a small saucepan, steep the honey for several minutes over low heat and strain before using.

It’s been a few weeks since I’ve talked about what I was reading, but I didn’t want to let February go by without pointing to some really interesting articles.  Of course, the El Bulli story has continued to develop with the  announcement that it would close permanently in 2012 and re-open as a non-profit foundation 2014.  There were two interesting pieces in the New York Times Diner’s Journal by Grant Achatz and Frank Bruni about the very different emotions the restaurant inspired. From Lydia Martin for the Miami Herald there was a great interview with Daniel Boulud, who is being honored at the South Beach Food and Wine Festival that started today.  I especially liked the part where he describes midnight visits to a Palm Beach truck stop for Cuban sandwiches.  I’ve never wanted to visit a truck stop in the middle of the night before but those must be fantastic Cubans.  She also spoke to Douglas Rodriguez, who recently opened D. Rodriguez’s Cuba at the Astor Hotel, about Cuban home cooking.

Meanwhile, David Kaufman spoke to Alain Ducasse about Mix on the Beach, his new restaurant that’s part of the new W Spa and Resort on Vieques for the Daily Beast.  While I’m wary of any venture that can be described as a “playground” for the “gringo masses,” it’s encouraging that Ducasse is working with local staff and finding so much inspiration in his surroundings:

“…breadfruit, star fruit, quenepa (Spanish lime), avocado, guava, passion fruit, 100 varieties of mangos—it’s all literally falling off of the trees here,” Ducasse says. Also on the toque’s radar screen: traditional Puerto Rican street foods, which he is giving a haute-nouvelle spin. “I always visit those overlooked holes-in-the-wall wherever I travel,” he says. “In Puerto, I love the kiosks serving authentic cuisine like whole roast pig.”

Closer to home, Maricel Presilla, a Best Chef semifinalist for a James Beard award, opened Ultramarinos in Hoboken, New Jersey.  A prepared foods and specialty market, it features a variety of products products from Spain, Portugal, Mexico and Central and South America.

So much activity for such a short month.

The last time time I went to the Latin American, I was with a friend visiting from Connecticut.  Unable to talk her into the traditional, pork heavy Cuban sandwich, she ordered a turkey on white.  The distracted waiter looked up from his pad to ask who’d placed the order.  Pointing to my friend, he gave a shrug that said “allá tú” and rang in what I believe may have been the first turkey on white ordered there.  I think they even forgot it was on the menu.  When our orders came, my friend timidly asked to try the Cuban.  She loved it and I offered to trade.  As a good hostess, I wanted her to try the best my Miami had to offer.  Of course, if I knew it was going to be my last, I wouldn’t have been so polite.

Home for the holidays, an uncle who is passionate about his cubanos and medianoches invited me to join his Sunday morning golf crew for an early lunch at Latin Cafe.  What I found was the Latin American sandwich reduced to the essential elements – sweet bread stuffed with a slightly more ham than lechon, a well stocked island counter where the sandwiches are pressed to order, and a lonchero who know what he’s doing and makes you want to come back to the same spot again and again.

Latin Cafe, 875 N.W. 42nd Avenue, Miami, Florida, 305-642-4700

I bought the malanga by mistake.  I’d considered adding it to my garbanzos last week but left it out at the last minute.  Not wanting to let it go to waste, I decided to try making fritters instead.  I’d stopped by a friends house unexpectedly when he was finishing a batch for salt cod fritters, and it looked so easy and simple that I wanted to try this variation.  They’re the kind of last minute side dish that could be whipped up in a few minutes.  I looked through a few different recipes that were very similar – malanga, eggs, a little garlic, maybe parsley.  Reading A Taste of Old Cuba, I was reminded that frying 0f any kind was always left for last so that the fritters, plantains or croquetas could be served hot and crisp, never greasy .  I hadn’t thought about it before but realized that I do associate the crackle and sizzle of frying with a great meal about to be had – a little music drawing everyone to the table.

Frituras de Malanga/Malanga Fritters
When I finished processing the malangas, I thought I’d made a mistake.  An oatmeal like mush, I regretted using the food processor instead of grating the malanga and mixing it by hand.  I decided to go ahead anyway, absentmindedly dropping the mixture in to the oil while I considered running out for more or just scratching it altogether.  When I looked down, the batter had turned into little golden drums.  Crispy on the outside and creamy on the inside, they reminded me of arancini balls.  I decided to make a fast garlic and lime ailoli to accompany them.  Having underestimated them, I felt like I owed them something.

1 pound raw malanga, peeled and cut into chunks*
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 garlic clove, chopped
1 teaspoon vinegar
1 tablespoon parsley, roughly chopped
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

1 1/2 to 2 cups vegetable oil

In a food processor, combine all of the ingredients except for the oil.  Pulse for a few seconds until a loose, textured paste forms, do not over mix.  Allow to rest for 15 minutes.

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

Working in batches, carefully add batter to oil in large tablespoons.  Gently turn until brown on all sides, about 4 minutes.  Remove and drain on paper towels or re-purposed grocery paper bags.

Notes:

Malanga is also known as Yautia in some Latin American markets.

They are best served immediately but can be frozen and reheated for 10-15 minutes at 350 degrees.