I decided to make something from José Pizarro’s Spanish Flavors: Stunning Dishes Inspired by the Regional Ingredients of Spain. His previous work, Seasonal Spanish Food, is a favorite so when my sister Carmen (who’s promised to guest-post while I’m away) reviewed his latest for the Latin Kitchen, I couldn’t wait to try it. Flipping through Spanish Flavors, I quickly went for the griddle scallops drizzled with chorizo oil. The original recipe called for cauliflower with barely sweet scallops but I switched this out for the forgotten malanga – a combination I’d liked in the past. It was also the only time I’d stopped running in days. I’m not even gone yet and it’s given me something to miss. See you in June!

Griddle Scallops with Malanga Pureée and Chorizo Oil

2 pounds malanga, peeled and cut into 2-inch chunks
¼ cups heavy cream
2 garlic cloves, diced
1 teaspoon sea salt
½ freshly ground white pepper
3 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil, divided
3 ounces chorizo sausage, skinned and finely chopped
1 teaspoon sherry vinegar
1 teaspoon chopped flat-leaf parsley
12 large scallops
Sea salt and freshly ground white pepper to taste

Place malanga in a large heavy pot with salted water to cover. Bring to a boil over medium heat and cook covered until tender, about 20 minutes. Drain reserving ½ cup of the cooking water.

In a mortar and pestle, mash garlic, salt, and white pepper together to form a paste. In blender or food processor, combine the malanga, heavy cream, olive oil, and mashed garlic then process until smooth. Add reserved cooking water to thin out the pureée to taste.

Heat 1 tablespoon of olive oil in a small frying pan over medium heat. Add the chopped chorizo and lightly brown, about 1 minute. Stir in the vinegar, parsley, and a pinch of sea salt.

Heat a nonstick frying pan over high heat. Rub the scallops with remaining tablespoon of olive oil. Add them to the pan, and sear for 2 minutes on each side, seasoning them as they cook.

To serve, spoon some of the malanga pureée onto 4 plates and arrange the scallops on the side. Spoon over some of the chorizo oil and serve.

A couple of springs ago, I went behind the Solber Pupusa stand at Ft. Geene’s Brooklyn Flea to learn how to palmear or shape their famous corn flour cakes.  I loved the process of mixing up the dough with my hands, tucking in the filling until it looks like an overstuffed dumpling, then passing it back and forth until it was a smooth disc again.  They were like the play-dough cakes I would have made as a kid except they turned into something you’d actually want to eat.  The first one weren’t very pretty but they improved with practice.

It was exactly that kind of practice that I’d been lacking since.  This weekend, when I came across Saveur’s masa cakes with spicy slaw, I realized I had just enough masa harina to get some turns in before I lost all my skills.  Like I learned at Solber, I added a small amount of oil to the mix and a little bit more to my hands when I shaped the dough.  It helped me pass them back and forth easily and they browned nicely as soon as they touched down on the cast iron pan.  I also had a full jar of flor de loroco so added them to them filling as well.  Only available frozen or jarred in the States, woodsy and acidic loroco flowers are not nearly as delicate as the edible blossoms girlishly peeking out from under the micro-greens at the farmer’s market.  Still what they lose in prettiness, they make up for in flavor.

Pupusas de Flor de Loroco y Queso
Adapted from Saveur’s Masa Cakes with Spicy Slaw (Pupusas con Curtido).  The original curtido recipe called for crumbled árbol chiles in the slaw which I left out so they wouldn’t overpower the cheese-loroco filling so I left it out.  I also warmed up some tomato sauce and added cream as a topping the way they do at the ballfields.

¼ cup white wine white vinegar
1 ½ teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon dried oregano
½ large carrot, peeled and grated
½ yellow onion, thinly sliced
¼ head green cabbage, shredded
Kosher salt, to taste

2 cups masa harina
1 ¾ warm water
1 tablespoon sunflower oil, plus more for greasing
½ teaspoon Kosher salt

2 cups grated Monterey Jack cheese
2 cups flor de loroco, jarred in brine and drained

Tomato sauce, lightly warmed
Salvadorean crema or crème fraîche

To make the curtido, combine the white wine vinegar, sugar, oregano, chiles, carrots, onions, and cabbage in a bowl.  Season with salt, toss, and let chill.

To make the dough, combine the masa harina with lukewarm water, oil, and salt.  Knead the dough until it’s well combined, smooth and pliable.  Cover and allow to rest for 15-30 minutes.

With wet or lightly oiled hands, scoop out a small amount of dough (about a ¼ cup) and shape into a ball.  Begin to palmear, lightly pressing it back and forth between your palms, rotating the dough to form a round disc, about a 1/4-inch thick.  Cup the flattened disc in your hand to form an oval and add the shredded cheese and loroco to the center.

Tuck the filling down as your gather the dough at the top to seal.  Shape the filled dough into a ball then re-flatten into a disc by repeating the process. Repeat with the remaining dough.

Heat a comal or cast iron skillet, over medium-high heat.  Brush lightly with oil and cook pupusas until lightly browned, about 4-5 minutes each side.  Serve warm with curtido (pickled cabbage), tomato sauce, and crema.

Makes 10-12 pupusas.

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The weather is defrosting, but I spent Sunday half inside my freezer where I found the nearly forgotten bag of moras.  Also called Andean blackberries, moras are a little more tart, firmer, and brighter than the blackberries commonly found in the US.  I’d picked them up in an amazing Latin American market in Jackson Heights.  Well-stocked with incredible variety but hard to get to, I brought back as much as I could carry.  A few months later, I’ve barely made a dent in the frozen guavas, jarred loroco, or guasca leaves I stockpiled.  I was looking to change this and remembered a dessert my friend’s mother, Mari Ines, made when she was teaching me how to make ajiaco Bogotano.  In the time it took her to finish the ajiaco, she simmered the berries in syrup and served them with queso fresco.  After calling Mari Ines for the recipes and ratios, I quickly made it for friends that night.  There are so many things I’m looking forward to this summer, but in these in between days, it felt good to take advantage of what I already had.

Dulce de Mora/Andean Blackberry Marmalade
Since making it the first time, I’ve found a million versions of this recipe on Colombian and Ecuadorian sites – how much to boil down the syrup, what spices to add, or whether or not to add lemon zest is all to taste.  Recently, I’ve been trying to use piloncillo as much as possible.  The only drawback is breaking up the rock hard bricks and cones it comes in.  I’d recently taken a hammer to one so I had enough on hand and decided to use it.  Less processed than white sugar, it can be cloying but it was nicely balanced out by the tartness of the berries.

8 ounces piloncillo, roughly chopped*
2 cups water
1 Ceylon cinnamon stick
1 lemon peel (optional)
1 pound moras or Andean blackberries (fresh or frozen)

Combine water and piloncillo in a large saucepan. Bring to a simmer and stir until piloncillo has completely dissolved.  Simmer over medium heat until reduced by half, about 20 minutes.  Stir in moras and simmer an additional 5-10 minutes.

Remove from heat and allow to cool.  Serve with slices of queso fresco, cake, or ice cream.

*Whole cane sugar, sold in rounds or cones, also known as panela and available in Latin American markets.

Now that it’s almost over,  I can admit that this winter has been hard.  It wasn’t the severity but the unpredictability that had me  – and almost everyone else I know – on edge.  Desperate for any lasting sign of spring, I wrote this short piece on getting through the final weeks for Devour.  Last week, in a fit of spring induced optimism, I brought an armful of herbs home from the farmer’s market.  I’ve never been great with plants, but seeing them lined up along the windowsill, I’m hopeful that these will be different.Getting away for small stretches whenever I could, I took an unexpected research trip to New Orleans.  Traveling by myself for the first time in awhile, I decided not to post, rarely instagramed, and left my status undeclared – only too happy to just be there and get a little lost.  Though I read everything I could  beforehand and compiled lists from friends, I would have loved for Saveur’s New Orleans issue to come out just a month or two sooner.  Instead, I find myself flipping through it to see what I got right and what I might have missed, but really just wanted to know more about my new city crush.

Looking for reasons to fall in love with my own city again, I went to the Easter parade on 5th avenue for the first time, went to see Nick Cave’s horses at Grand Central, and saw the incredible El Anatsui at Brooklyn Museum.  Inspired by Jerusalem, I’ve also been visiting the Middle Eastern markets along Atlantic Avenue for ingredients.  Clearly, I’m not alone since the Kitch’n had this post on using both preserved lemons and another on sumac.  At some point, I’ll also have to take this tour of Red Hook.

On other sites, David Leibovitz discovers the only tortilla maker in Europe, Louisa Shafia  plays favorites on 101 Cookbooks, Pablo Neruda’s Ode to an Orange inspires sour cream donuts with blood orange glaze on Eat This Poem, and David Tanis turns winter into spring.  It’s a start.

Since I started researching my cookbook, I’ve been almost entirely dependent on the kindness and generosity of friends of friends and near strangers.  Whether it’s recipes, or advice, or just a great story, I’m amazed at what people are willing to share when their sharing food.  I think it was wanting to bring some of that back into my site that sent me looking for empadinhas at my friend Claudia’s and prompted me to hit up my family for a recipe for capirotada, a Mexican lenten bread pudding.

I’d been seeing capirotada recipes pop up around Easter for years so I was a little surprised when I asked a few of my cousins who live in Mexico City and it didn’t ring any bells.  For a moment, I thought I’d gotten it all wrong and, like Mexican wedding cookies that are actually polvorones, something had been lost in translation.  I finally found a reference to it in Fany Gerson as originating in Jalisco so it made sense when my Tio Raul, who’s from Guadalajara, remembered his mother made it from day old French bread or bolillos when he was growing up.

I’d about given up on finding a recipe this year when I asked Estella who works at the Borough Hall’s farmer’s market about it.  For a couple of years, she’s helped me translate ingredients – explaining what kind of pumpkin to buy for empanaditas de calabaza and how to choose corn to make humitas.  Also from Guadalajara as it turns out, she offered to share her family’s recipe – which included tomatoes simmered in piloncillo to make a syrup then poured over fried bread and layered with raisins, almonds, walnuts and cheese.  I came close to leaving out the tomatoes and couldn’t imagine how those flavors would blend.  I might not have tried it but, coming from a friend, I took it on faith.

Capirotada Estella
This recipe come from Estella Sarabea.  There are many,  many variations on this dessert which can be made with a crusty French bread or sweet bread like challah.  The bread should be at least a day old and dried out so that it doesn’t take to much oil when fried.  The tortillas should line the pan like parchments paper.  The cheese can vary from a salty cotija to creamier Monterrey Jack to the Oaxaca I used.  The tomatoes enrich the piloncillo without overpowering the sweetness.
8 ounces piloncillo, roughly chopped*
4 plum tomatoes, quartered
4 cups water
1 pound French bread (about 1 1/2 baguettes), day old, cut in 1/2″ slices
2 tablespoons sunflower oil, plus more as needed
6 corn tortillas
1 cup sweetened condensed milk
1 cup raisins
1/2 cup slivered almonds
1/2 cup walnuts, chopped
8 ounces Oaxaca or Mozzarella cheese, shredded

Combine water and piloncillo in a large saucepan. Bring to a simmer and stir until piloncillo has completely dissolved. Add tomatoes and simmer over medium heat, about 10 minutes. Transfer to a blender and process until smooth. Strain, discarding solids, and set aside to cool.

Warm a large skillet over medium heat and add enough oil to coat. Working in batches, add a single layer of sliced bread and lightly brown, about 1 minute on each side. Drain fried bread on paper towels and repeat with remaining slices. Replenish oil as needed.

Pre-heat oven to 350°. Lightly grease a 9″ x 13″ glass or ceramic baking dish with cooking spray and line the dish with corn tortillas.

Arrange bread slices in a single layer, overlapping slightly. Spoon prepared syrup over bread, about 1 cup. Lightly drizzle with sweetened condensed milk. Scatter one third of the almonds, raisins, and walnuts. Sprinkle with cheese. Cover with additional layer of bread and repeat with remaining syrup, condensed milk and toppings, creating 2-3 layers and ending with syrup.Cover with aluminum foil and baked until the cheese is completely melted and the top is browned, 30-40 minutes.

Allow to rest about 30 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature.

*Whole cane sugar, sold in rounds or cones, also known as panela and available in Latin American markets.

I always loved Palm Sunday when I was little.  There was something about getting those palm fronds that felt important.  For once I had a focus for my fidgeting, and I’d spend the service shaping and reshaping them.  Last Sunday, though I (somewhat guiltily) didn’t attend mass, I fussed with hearts of palm instead.

My original plan had been to make crab filled empanadas when I decided to stop by my friend Claudia’s store to ask if she had a Brazilian variation I should try.  She was quick to point out that Brazilian empanadas – actually empadinhas – are shaped like tiny pies and made with dough called massa podre (like a shortcut cut pastry or pâte brisée).  I would have been guilty on both counts since I was planning making the usual crescent shaped ones and leaning towards puff pastry.  While she quickly googled recipes and examples to show me, empadinhas de palmito came up often, eliciting a kind of wistfulness the crabby ones I was planning didn’t.  A good enough reason to change course.

Empadinhas de Palmito/Heart of Palm Pastries
After finding this very helpful vlog explaining massa podre, I made the filling more or less as planned – using the leftover bell peppers and onion I had on hand to make a sofrito then adding the hearts of palm and small amount of béchamel.   The first ones were tiny, hard to shape and with the filling peeking out.  With friends coming later that afternoon, I took them back to Claudia to find out was wrong with them and how I could fix it.  The pastry worked but she suggested losing the peppers which overpowered the hearts of palm and adding some olives instead.  It also need to be creamier, so I increased the amount of sauce and cooked it more carefully.  I also could have added tomatoes but will leave that for next time.

For the dough:
1 1/4 cup unbleached, all purpose flour
8 tablespoons unsalted butter, cubed and well-chilled
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 egg, well beaten with 1 tablespoon whole milk
1 egg yolk, lightly beaten

For the filling:
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 medium yellow onion, chopped
1 cloves garlic, minced
1 1/2 tablespoon flour
1 cup whole milk
1 1/2 cups hearts of palm, drained and thinly sliced
1/4 cup Manzanilla olives, pitted and sliced
2 tablespoons Parmesan, shredded
2 tablespoons parsley, chopped
Kosher salt and fresh ground pepper to taste

Prepare the dough:
Sift together the flour and salt in a large mixing bowl. Either by hand or using a pastry blender, work the butter into the dried ingredients until it flakes off into pea-sized pieces. Stir in the egg mixture and knead until it begins to just hold together.

Turn out the dough onto a lightly floured surface. For the fraisage or final blending, smear the dough a few spoonfuls at a time across the board with the heel of your hand. Gather the dough with a scrapper and form into a mound. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate at least 1 hour or overnight.

Prepare the filling:
Melt the butter in a heavy saucepan over medium heat. Add the onions and garlic and cook until soft but not browned, about 5 minutes. Add the flour and cook, stirring constantly until well incorporated, about 1 minutes. Gradually stir in the milk, turning constantly until the sauce begins to thicken but is still creamy, 2-3 minutes. Stir in the hearts of palm and olive and cook until warmed through, an additional 2-3 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in the Parmesan and parsley. Season with salt and freshly ground pepper.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Spray a 12-cup muffin pan with nonstick cooking spray.

Form the empadinhas:
On a lightly floured board, roll out dough to about 1/8″ thick.  Using a round cookie cutter (about 2-2 1/2-inch wide), cut out pastry rounds and place in the muffin cups. Re-roll scraps once to cut more rounds. Fill each cup with 1 rounded tablespoon of filling and top with additional pastry rounds to seal.  Using a sharp knife, cut tiny vents in the top of each empadinha.  Lightly brush with beaten egg yolk.

Place in the oven and bake until the crust is lightly golden, 25-30 minutes.  Transfer to a cooling rack and serve immediately.

Makes 12 large or 24 small empadinhas.

Whenever I turn out a successful flan, I always feel like I’ve gotten lucky.  Made with with relatively few ingredients, they should be simple but that’s not always the case.   I recently tried to make a Mexican flan imposible (part custard, part chocolate) that turned out to be – well – impossible.  This week, I was determined make this almond-orange flan for the Cooking Channel’s Devour the Blog dairy-free for Passover.  Making flan without my go-to cans (part condensed milk, part evaporated milk) was unnerving, but I had a feeling it would work out in the end.  I was due.

Trying to cover a lot of ground on my site, I regret that I don’t get to spend too much time in any one place – picking up terms and techniques without becoming fluent in any one country’s cuisine.  But lately my Cuban cookbook research has kept me at home, literally and figuratively, so I was due for a side trip.  A few weeks ago, I interviewed Mexican food writer and television show host Pati Jinich, whose first book Pati’s Mexican Table, I also reviewed for The Latin Kitchen.  Generous with her time and advice but above all convincing, she’s inspired me to stock up on chipotle chiles like it’s the end of the world and presents recipes that easily fold into each other.  Facing a busy week and many too-late-to-cook nights, I decided to make her tinga de pollo recipe posted here.  It’s been great to come home to and no less special for being and every day event.

February has been bittersweet.  Back from an amazing research trip to Miami, I was looking forward to celebrating my birthday back home from home in New York when it was swallowed by Nemo.  Still I can’t complain and was beyond grateful that my friends were still willing to celebrate with me against all sense.  I was lucky not to have any damage, though it is a reminder that recovery is ongoing for my neighbors.  If you haven’t already seen it, Zac and Cat Overman have put together All Hands on Deck, an e-book to benefit Restore Red Hook.  From Baked to Cacao Prieto to the Ball Field’s El Olomega, it’s a great collection of recipes for a good cause and – as they’d say in Sweden - så Brooklyn.

If this Valentine’s Day was a disappointment then the this story between Edmundo Desnoes and Felicia Rosshandler may restore your faith.  If not, then there are these Lotte Reiniger’s fairy tales to swoon over.

For down to earth food stories, the Guardian asks if vegans stomach the unpalatable truth about quinoa?.  A straightforward question with no easy answers.  Epicurious features a day in the life in the kitchen of Cómodo, the Soho restaurant by supper clubbers Tamy Rolfe and Felipe Donnelly.  I profiled them as well this past January for The Latin Kitchen.  Diner’s Journal goes back to the future, in the kitchen and reports on restaurants turning camera shy. Food Republic has 26 Reasons to be blown away by Spain and puts together an amazing wine pairing chart.  Serious Eats tries every arepa at Caracas Arepa Bar so you don’t have to – but then you might want to anyway.