While I always feel a little sad to see the weekend slip away, I like the hard reset of Mondays. With new resolutions in place and wanting to have more vegetables, I tried chayotes for the first time. A cross between a squash, cucumber and melon that are available year round, I’d see them in the grocery store but never thought to try them. Consulting Diana Kennedy’s The Art of Mexican Cooking, I julienned and sauteed them with Serrano peppers in safflower oil and cooked them covered till they were al dente, then added a little cilantro and sea alt to taste. An easy preparation for a fresh start.
I was curious when I read Katie Workman’s post in The Daily Beast about the rivalry between Peru and Chile over the potato’s origin. I asked my aunt, who has lived in Lima enough decades to put down her own roots, if it was true. When I received an all caps email from my usually soft spoken aunt, I knew not only was it true, it was serious. I could see why countries would fight over it. Comforting and generous, potatoes lend themselves to almost everything. Regardless of its origin, I was curious to know what Peruvians did with them. She directed me to a friend’s website, Yanuq, an extensive source for traditional and contemporary Peruvian recipes and ingredients. I started looking at recipes for causas, mashed yellow potatoes seasoned with aji amarillo, lime juice, and oil and then stuffed with anything from octopus in olive sauce to chicken and beets. Deciding to start picnic simple, I chose the causa de atún, a jelly roll or brazo gitano style loaf filled with tuna, tomatoes, and avocados. Despite a wide market search, I wasn’t able to find the Peruvian aji amarillo but followed a suggestion on eGullet to use habaneros soaked in milk as a substitute. Still, my market search did bear fruit since I found fresh chirimoyas instead with the sticker declaring them the product of Chile. I wonder what Peru thinks of that? Read more
I’ve wanted to post a recipe for ajo blanco since my friend Félix Ortiz told me about it several weeks ago. Waiting out the garlic scapes and spring varieties in the farmer’s market, I finally tried it when the first full formed garlic appeared. Trying to incorporate the mashing with the blending with the right amount of water, I ended up with three consecutive batches of garlic milk. If you haven’t tried garlic milk, don’t. Consulting Anya Von Bremzen’s The New Spanish Table, I was able to figure out what went wrong. Without a mortar and pestle large enough to really work the oil into the bread and almond mixture, it didn’t emulsify the way it should, either too thin or too grainy. I switched over to the blender after making the initial paste and it gave me the right consistency in a few whirls. The final result was smooth, refreshing, and easy. Typical of Málaga, this creamy white gazpacho makes a great light, mid-summer meal.
Given the option to spend a semester abroad in Madrid, I decided to go for the entire year, not realizing just how far I would be from everything and everyone. The family I had been assigned to live with at random didn’t help. From the first day, they made me feel like an wandering hobo or stranded motorist who’d washed up to their grim house to use the phone (except I wasn’t actually allowed to use the phone). For the next two months, I had a terrible case of homesickness. The city I’d dreamed of seemed completely closed to me. Family in Spain and a few friends got me through, but it wasn’t until I broke up my year with a trip home for Christmas and arranged for new housing that the spell finally broke. Mostly because of Aurora. Read more
If I seem preoccupied with eating flowers lately, it’s because the farmer’s markets are only just getting into their too beautiful weeks now. This Sunday I found the zucchini blossoms I’d been waiting for since April to try this recipe for Zucchini-Blossom Quesadillas again.
I’d made them for the first time last year with store bought tortillas. I loved the filling but wanted to make them with the uncooked dough called for in the recipe. I made this batch with masa harina, fresh masa that has been dried so that you only add water to form the tortillas. I used this tutorial by Chef Iliana de la Vega who explains Read more
Most weekends, when I’ve been to the farmer’s markets, had my brunch, and caught a matinee, I find myself at Rapisarda, the Cobble Hill store owned by Brazilian designer Claudia Rapisarda. I’m not alone. There’s always someone half-shopping, half-visiting Claudia. The store itself is hard to describe. A unique collection of pieces that she both designs and brings from Brazil, it vibrates with color.
It was during one of my visits that she tried to explain how to make farofa, a dish I had been reading about and wanted to try. Claudia can’t not help someone, so she agreed to come to my apartment and show me herself. In addition to the farofa, the menu grew to include: feijoada, a black bean stew with pork (using kielbasa as a substitute for Portuguese linguiça); couve, collard greens sauteed in olive oil and garlic; fluffy white rice cooked with more garlic; sliced oranges; and, of course caipirinhas. Read more
As promised, I’m posting the results of our market run through Chinatown. When it was all laid out, I have to admit I was intimidated. I knew absolutely nothing about Filipino foods. A combination of Spanish, Mexican, Malaysian, Chinese and Indian, I had never seen many of the ingredients before and their names wouldn’t stop moving long enough to be written down so I’ve included a lot of pictures. With Benjie’s help, Annette explained the origins of what we would be making. Then it all started going at once…
I love camarones enchilados or creole-style shrimp. Growing up, it was the perfect every day dish thrown together at the last minute. On a good day, we had it with fluffy white race and maduros. On a rushed day, frozen shrimp and Cuban crackers. It was one of the first things I’d tried to make on my own, but there was always something missing. I looked at a few different versions pulling different elements from each. What really made the difference though was Alex Garcia’s recommendation from In a Cuban Kitchen to add the shrimp at the very end, allowing the flavors in the sauce to develop without over cooking the shrimp. Spicy but sweet and well worth the time.
This past week was my older sister Cami’s birthday, so I have been wound up planning an informal, low-key picnic in Central Park for 40 people. When I sent out the evite, I was worried that people wouldn’t be able to make it. When the RSVPs climbed, I was worried they all meant it when they said they were. I did my best to anticipate any logistical problems – were the bathrooms at the Delacorte Theater open, were leashed dogs allowed on the Great Lawn, were you allowed to hang a piñata from Central Park’s look-but-don’t-climb trees? (Answers: Yes, Yes, and Not if they see you). I prayed for sun but when I woke up to a gray Saturday morning, I was overwhelmed by the enormous number of things left to do for a picnic that was so obviously going be awash in early afternoon thunderstorms and soaked donkey piñatas.
I wanted Cami to have the classic Cuban spread – cangrejitos (crab-shaped puffs filled with sweet ham), crispy croquetas, meat filled empanadas, bocaditos (small white bread sandwiches filled with flavored cream cheese), and pastelitos de guayaba. Armed with 4 sheets of puff pastry, 3 bricks of cream cheese, ham and picadillo fillings, and the last of the homemade guava paste I’d brought from home, I set to work. To add a further complication, I was also settling in my mother and Chiqui who had arrived the night before for a two week stay (Chiqui being the 8 pound chihuahua who has replaced me in my mother’s affections).
The few hours I had given myself to prepare evaporated between finding extra closet space, outlets for chargers and rolling out emapanada dough. With just an hour to go, it seemed hopeless, and I started weighing the evils of less food versus having friends wandering the park looking for a spot that hadn’t been staked out. Then someone, probably Chiqui, set my iTunes to Celia Cruz. Now while listening to Celia cannot solve every problem, it does make unhappiness almost impossible. Somewhere Between Cao Cao Mani Picao and Oye Mi Rumba, time slowed enough for me to finish my first empanadas and my mother to cut the crusts of my sister’s favorite tuna bocaditos. By the time I climbed up the subway stairs to 81st Street & Central Park West with a box full of Cuban treats and five minutes to spare, I could finally see the blue skies I first felt when Celia started singing.
I should confess that when I admitted to my host family, during my year abroad in Madrid, that one of my favorite dishes from home was tortilla de plátanos maduros (fried ripe plantain omelette), I thought they might ask me to leave…the country. I don’t think they would have been so shocked if they knew that for Cubans, plantains are as ubiquitous as the potatoes they put in their own tortilla de patatas. Read more
It was during one of my visits that she tried to explain how to make 
hungry sofia 