Thursday, April 2, 2020

Acquacotta




After a almost a month on Coronavirus lockdown in Florence, Italy, I have found that the meditative aspect of cooking has given me much needed peace of mind. In the kitchen I keep repeating my mantra, 'andra tutti bene', everything will be alright. So, I've cooked something different just about everyday for this past month. Several of you asked for this particular recipe; this hearty soup is definitely worth trying.

I was introduced to this soup by my friend, M, (I have omitted her name according to her wishes), who grew up on a farm in Maremma. Her mother often prepared this dish for the family of 5, and although the ingredients were plentiful on this farm, this is historically a shepherd or coalminer’s meal, prepared out in the open with the few ingredients needed, always including the hardened bread ready to be thrown into a soup with plenty of water as the name implies: cooked water. 

This rustic dish came to be enhanced with the arrival of tomatoes from the Americas and it became quite another thing.


Acquacotta for 4- 5

Notes: 1.) You absolutely don’t have to use vegetable broth if you don’t have it. Just substitute water if you want to take this shortcut. But if you want to make the broth, boil 2 carrots, 2 sticks celery, and one onion in about 8 cups of water for about 1 hour. Or use commercial vegetable broth.

2.) You don't have to skin the tomatoes but it makes for a prettier dish with velvety looking tomatoes in the acquacotta. To skin the tomatoes, cut an X at the bottom, drop them for about 1 minutes in boiling water, take them out and place them in a bowl of ice water, then take them out and remove the peel.

Ingredients:

700 g (1.5 lbs) yellow onions
200 g (2 sticks) celery with leaves
800 g (1.7 lbs) peeled chopped tomatoes
120 g (about 1.5 cup) extra virgin olive oil
200 g (.75 cups) water
500 g (2 cups) vegetable broth 
salt
basil
4 eggs


For serving in the plate
Sliced hardened bread that you’ve brushed with extra-virgin olive oil and toasted slowly in the oven
Parmigiano Reggiano for grating on top

1. Peel the onion, cut in half lengthwise, then slice thinly and set aside.

2. Wash the celery and slice thinly, including the leaves.

3. Heat oil in heavy bottomed skillet and add the chopped onion and celery. Cook on low heat for about 5 minutes, then add the .75 cup water. 

4. Cook this on low heat, stirring until the water has evaporated.

5. Add the chopped tomatoes, stir and cook for about 10 minutes, then add the vegetable broth (or water). Cook for about 40 minutes.

6. Cover the skillet to finish cooking it and taste for salt. Stir every so often.

7. It is ready when you see the oil beginning to float to the top. Add the leaves of basil. At this point, drop 4 eggs that you have cracked separately into a small bowl and dropped separately into the acquacotta. Drop each egg gently and close to the surface of the soup. Cover the skillet again to cook the eggs for about 3 minutes.

8. Place the hard toasted bread on the plate and carefully spoon one egg in each plate along with the tomatoey soap. Grate some Parmigiana Reggiani on top.




Friday, September 6, 2019

Eggplant Parmigiana



Eggplant Parmigiana for 4 -5 persons

Some notes:
  • I don’t bread and fry the sliced eggplant before layering, I just grill the slices on a cast iron ribbed skillet.
  • Even though I don’t fry the eggplant, this recipe gets better the more olive oil you use.
  • You have to let the tomato absorb the taste of the onion and garlic a good while so you have a rich tasting sauce, so cook it for at least 20 minutes. Add oil and water as needed so that it doesn't dry up.


Ingredients:

2 medium sized eggplants

5 cloves garlic chopped finely

1 medium onion chopped finely chopped

a few leaves basil

1 large can (800 gr)  imported Italian tomatoes  (Cirio, San Marzano pelati, for example) Even better, if you can find it is Passata di Pomodoro, you will have a delicious velvety sauce

mozzarella

Parmigiano Reggiano cheese

Olive oil, you’ll need about ¾ cup

salt/pepper

For the eggplant:

Cut off both ends of the eggplants so you can easily stand it on end and slice downward with a sharp knife. Slices should be thin.

Salt them lightly on both sides and brush with olive oil on both sides.

Grill them on both sides until they are soft and cooked through. (Some people fry them quickly in hot oil, and then set them aside on paper towels, whatever you prefer)

For the sauce:

Cook the onion and garlic in olive oil in a skillet until soft and transparent.

Add the tomatoes and the juice they’re in after you’ve smashed them uniformly. Or use Passata di Pomodoro if you can find it..

Add the leaves of basil

Cook for about 15 or 20 minutes until the flavors have blended

Add olive oil to the tomato if you think it looks dry. 

Use a glass ovenproof dish to assemble everything.

Daub the bottom of the dish with your sauce.

Add the baked layers of eggplant at the bottom and add more sauce and sprinkle bits of mozzarella on this and then grate some of the Parmigiano cheese.

Repeat this with each layer of eggplant, always adding sauce, then the cheeses, etc.

Once it’s assembled, you can let it rest in the refrigerator or you can put it directly in the oven at about 350, uncovered. Bake for about 20 to 25 minutes.

Afterwards, let it cool a bit so it doesn’t fall apart when you cut it.

Wednesday, May 3, 2017

Un Vino de Postre Autenticamente Toscano





Vin Santo o vino santo originario de la región de la Toscana, es un vino de postre italiano que proviene a menudo de distintas uvas blancas como la Trebbiano y la Malvasia, aunque también puede usarse Sangiovese para producir una variante rosada  llamada Occhio di Pernice (‘ojo de perdiz’). Debido a su proceso de elaboración no muchas vinícolas lo producen ya que requiere de tiempo y mucha dedicación... lo que da como resultado un vino altamente especial y muy preciado.

La cosecha de las uvas es completamente manual y hecha con mucho cuidado para después dejarlas secar en una especie de bodega, con mucha ventilación,  cuidando que no les dé luz directa. Esto puede tomar semanas o incluso meses, hasta que tengan una apariencia de pasa. A medida de que el líquido de la uva se evapora la concentración de azúcar incrementa. Una vez que están secas las uvas, son prensadas y lo que se obtiene de este proceso es colocado en barricas, llamadas “caratelli”. Dependerá de cada productor si agrega levadura o “mosto madre”, lo cual pertenece a los residuos de moho de cosechas anteriores y que colabora a la formación de levadura. Los “caratelli” después se sellan perfectamente para no tener contacto con el ambiente, y se depositan en cuartos en donde no se regule la temperatura, pues se cree que los cambios de temperatura de cada estación y entre el día y la noche ayudan a mejorar el aroma y sabor del vino. El periodo de tiempo que se deja el vino en las barricas puede variar, sin embargo lo más común es que sea de 6 años. En ocasiones, por el tipo de uva puede permanecer hasta 11 años.

También es importante describir el sabor y apariencia de este vino, que es en mi opinión una delicia italiana. De acuerdo a Stephen Brook, experto en vinos, él describe los mejores ejemplares “con un color dorado o bronce, con aromas que pueden ir desde duraznos secos a cáscara de naranja, miel y caramelo, mostrando una complejidad considerable en el paladar, con sabores que reflejan los aromas junto con una textura aterciopelada y una acidez limpia”.

Hay muchas historias acerca del origen del nombre, la que se escucha mas en la región es que en Siena en la época de una de las plagas en 1348, a un fraile franciscano se le ocurrió usar el vino que se utiliza durante la misa para curar la plaga, por lo cual llegó a llamarse Vin Santo.

En nuestro recorrido por la Toscana hacemos una encantadora parada en la Villa del Cigliano, casa de Anna Macaferri, cuya familia desciende de los Antinori. Nos sentamos a la mesa con un rico almuerzo, degustamos de los vinos producidos ahí mismo y no podrá faltar una deliciosa copa de Vin Santo acompañada de unos “cantucci”, o como se conocen mas comúnmente los biscotti de almendra, pero esa es otra historia… otra expedición culinaria! 
Esperen otro post en donde hablaremos de esta galleta de la Toscana y les compartiremos nuestra receta. Hasta pronto! 
Cynthia Carranza

Monday, April 10, 2017

Liguria and its Easter Culinary Tradition


Living in Italy as I do for so many months of the year, I marvel at the seasonal dishes that are part of traditions that go back for centuries. Families get together for holidays over meals that in some form or another have been prepared since time immemorial. They may have religious symbolism, but even those origins can be traced to a pagan tradition. And you can be certain that every town throughout Italy has its own variation of any particular culinary tradition.

The torta pasqualina, prepared in Liguria, is one you see at this time in every bakery window of that region of Italy. The ingredients include swiss chard, eggs, cheese, a type of yogurt known as prescinseua, marjoram, and artichokes. Although the torta pasqualina is steeped in the Christian traditions of Easter, it really goes much further back to pagan rites of spring which celebrated the rebirth of life after the death of winter. A powerful symbol of rebirth undoubtedly is the hardboiled egg in the torta which is 'dropped' raw on the vegetable / cheese mixture in an indentation made with a spoon and then covered with the pastry. The egg then becomes hardboiled with the steam of the other ingredients when it's baked.

Just to get you in the mood of our fall Ligurian tour, I'm posting this recipe, just in time for your Easter celebrations. And I invite you to take a look at our fall offering to Liguria: it's a splendid time to be on this coast. Picture yourself walking along the ancient Roman paths and later relaxing in a cooking class, learning to make the ancient, traditional cuisine of this unique area of Italy.

One of my very favorite food blogs is by Emiko Davies. Look here and you'll see why: http://www.emikodavies.com/blog/torta-pasqualina-ligurian-easter-pie/

I would suggest, as she does, that if you're short on time, frozen puff pastry will work fine as a substitute for your dough.

Here is a recipe adapted from Emiko's blog for this torta:

Torta Pasqualina (Ligurian Easter pie)

For pastry:
500 grams bakers or bread flour (a strong flour gives elasticity to this very thin dough)
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons olive oil
310 ml (1 ¼ cups) water (or as needed)

For the filling:
½ medium brown onion, chopped finely
1 kg silverbeet (chard), central veins removed and leaves blanched
handful of fresh marjoram leaves
350 gr (1 ½ cups) ricotta
8 eggs
120 gr (about 1 cup) grated Parmesan cheese
salt and pepper

For the pastry:
Place the flour, salt and oil in a bowl and add water, little by little until you have a dough that is neither dry nor sticky. You may need to add a bit more water, you may not need it all, so I suggest doing this by hand or at least adding the water bit by bit so you can see how the dough behaves.
Once it comes together into a dough, knead it on a lightly floured surface about 5-10 minutes, or until the dough is smooth and elastic (it should bounce back when poked). Wrap in plastic wrap and let rest for at least 1 hour (you can also prepare this the night before and leave it overnight in the fridge).

For the filling:
Cook the silverbeet (chard) until tender, about 5-7 minutes. Remove from the water, drain, let cool slightly then chop finely. Squeeze again to remove as much water as possible.
In a large pan, saute the onion in 2 tablespoons olive oil until soft and translucent. Add the spinach and toss to combine with the onion, cooking a further 2 minutes. Season with salt and pepper, add the fresh marjoram leaves and set aside to cool. When cool, combine 2 beaten eggs and a third of the Parmesan with the chard mixture and set aside until needed.
In a bowl, combine the ricotta, 2 eggs, a third of the Parmesan, and season with salt and pepper. Beat until well combined. Set aside in the fridge until needed.

To assemble the pie:
Brush olive oil lightly over a cake tin with a removable base (about 23-25cm diameter is fine but larger sizes work too). Cut the dough into 4 equal portions. Roll one out at a time, keeping the others well covered with a tea towel or plastic wrap. On a large, lightly floured surface, roll the first ball of dough until very thin. You may even need to pick it up and stretch it between your hands, gently – you should be able to see your fingers through the other side.
Lay the dough gently over the cake tin to cover the sides and base. Let the excess dough hang over the edge. Brush the dough lightly with olive oil. Roll out a second ball of dough as before and lay over the first layer of dough the same way. Brush with olive oil, pushing out any air bubbles with the brush as you do so.
Fill the pie base with the chard mixture, smoothing over the top with the back of a spoon. Next, layer over the ricotta mixture, smoothing over the top with the back of a spoon. Then, with the help of a spoon, make four round indents over the surface of the ricotta to fit 4 egg yolks. Crack the eggs, placing them in the indents in the ricotta . Sprinkle over the rest of the Parmesan.
Roll out the third ball of dough as before. Gently lay it over the top of the pie and brush lightly with olive oil. Roll out the last ball of dough and lay it over the top. Trim the dough overhang, leaving about an inch (2 ½ cm) from the edge of the top of the pie, and roll the trim down until it reaches the top of the pie. Brush the top with olive oil and then bake for about 50 minutes at 180°C.

Serve warm or even cold – this also makes a great portable picnic dish!

And now that you're on a Ligurian wave length, take a look at our Liguria page: http://bit.ly/2nngB0I  Although this trip is about Liguria, we start out in Florence and, so, you get to see a bit of this Renaissance jewel before we leave by private transport to the coast of Liguria. Our welcoming hosts in Liguria are Emanuela Raggio and Anna Merulla of Beautiful Liguria. If you're at all interested, please write me as soon as possible.

May your Easter be a peaceful gathering of beloved friends, family, and heavenly food that nourishes your soul as much as your body.

Gilda




Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Belated Valentines

This year I gave a cooking class on Valentine's Day, so I'm a day late in preparing my chocolate dessert for my Valentine. Better late than never, and this year it was a Chocolate Mousse with a touch of tequila. The recipe calls for egg yolks, egg whites, sugar, tequila, espresso, butter, and whipped cream and berries as a garnish. It's an adaptation from The Cooking of Provincial France, Foods of the World, Time/Life Books.



I found a post from several years ago of Paco Cardenas, from a class I took from him years ago when I first came to San Miguel de Allende.  Paco is a well known pastry chef here and owner of Petit Four in San Miguel and I think I have the 'confianza', not to mention pride, to call him a friend. I'll repost it here. Paco makes his chocolate mousse differently, but just as decadent. Anyway, this post is from several years back. The years have passed and my connection with this town have grown in ways I hardly expected.

For the Love of San Miguel de Allende

It would be easy to be selfish and keep the secret of San Miguel de Allende to myself.  But what the heck, Martha Stewart "discovered" it several months ago.  Granted, American GIs started going in droves to this colonial town in central Mexico in the late 40's when Stirling Dickinson, the larger-than-life American expatriate impacted the life of this town forever after.  In 1948, Life Magazine published a three-page spread entitled “GI Paradise: Veterans go to Mexico to study art, live cheaply and have a good time.” This was Stirling Dickinson's legacy.

In the intervening years, this sleepy town—and the cradle of Mexican independence—grew and became flooded with expats from all over the world, especially Americans.  It also became a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Unfortunately, in 2009, stories of the spread of swine flu discouraged tourism.  This was compounded by the astounding stories of how large swaths of Mexico have been taken over by drug cartels, reversing the prosperity the town had enjoyed since those heady days of Stirling Dickinson. The irony is that San Miguel is safer than most American towns and life on the main square is lived almost as it was a hundred years ago.

I am a teacher and several years ago,  with the collaboration of colleagues in my school, we created a program for our middle school students in San Miguel. This is how I ended up in a cooking class with Paco Cárdenas Báez, a pastry chef who owns Petit Four.  Paco's class is foodie heaven.  He takes his students to the market to meet the "real" people of San Miguel: women who sell nopales, blue handmade tortillas, huitlacoche, and roasted corn.


He invites his pupils into his home to cook in a kitchen that is al fresco, the chef and his eager protégés bathed in the golden light of San Miguel.
The Aztecs knew what chocolate was about. So does Paco.   Here is his decadent chocolate mousse with tequila for you to enjoy this Dia del Amor, Valentine's Day.
Chocolate Mousse a la Mexicana Recipe by Chef Paco Cárdenas from El Petit Four M.R.

Ingredients:
1 cup heavy cream
1 cup bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
¼ cup tequila reposado (aged)
1 cup fresh mixed berries
Optional: ½ cup bittersweet chocolate for decorative flakes; pour on a granite top and scrape with spatula

Preparation:
In the bowl of an electric mixer, using the whisk attachment, beat the cream to soft peaks.
Pour the tequila on top of the cream and mix well.
Melt the chopped chocolate and pour it on top of the tequila cream.
Whisk together until smooth.


To serve:
Place the mousse in a pastry bag with a striped nozzle and pipe the mousse  (or spoon it) in martini glasses, garnish with fresh mixed berries and dark chocolate flakes.







Saturday, January 7, 2017

Los Reyes Magos

The following post was written in Spanish by my good friend and Head of the Culinarian Expeditions Celaya office, Cynthia Carranza. She writes about the Three Kings tradition in Mexico which takes place on January 6.  I have always gotten the Baby Jesus figure hidden in the cake, meaning a year filled with good things! By tradition, I must offer tamales on February 6 in order to pay it forward.



En algunos hogares del mundo Santa Claus se va a descansar después del 25 de diciembre. En el mío lo importante es que el 6 de enero es el día de ¡los Tres Reyes Magos!

La fiesta de Reyes se lleva a cabo de distintas maneras en todo el mundo desde desfiles hasta celebraciones de mas de un día. En México la llegada de Melchor, Gaspar y Baltazar es mágica!! Porque además siempre había una deliciosa Rosca de Reyes en la mesa junto con un atole o un chocolate caliente.

Hay muchas explicaciones a la forma de la rosca, unos dicen que simula una corona adornada con frutos secos y cristalizados de colores simulando las joyas que estaban incrustadas en las coronas de los Santos Reyes las cuales significan Paz, Amor y Felicidad; otros, que es el amor eterno de Dios que no tiene principio ni fin, los adornos, simbolizan las distracciones del mundo que nos impiden llegar a Jesús, quien está escondido dentro de la rosca en espera de que con ayuda de la Estrella podamos encontrarlo así como lo hicieron los Reyes Magos y finalmente hay quienes consideran que representa el recorrido que realizan María y José al esconder a Jesús de Herodes.

Lo cierto es que, sin importar las creencias de cada uno, es increíble como esta tradición es algo que muchos esperamos y no solo en casa, si no también en el trabajo, alrededor de compañeros y amigos para ver a quien le toca el Niño Dios! Según la tradición, la persona que encuentre el niño Dios será bendecida con un año de suerte, por esta razón ofrece tamales el día 2 de febrero, cuando celebremos el día de la Candelaria.

Feliz Día de Reyes, Culinarians! Y nos vemos el próximo 2 de febrero con los tamales, ¿verdad Gilda?



Sunday, January 17, 2016

Culinarian Expeditions makes it on the January Issue of Albatros

Albatros  (www.albatrosmagazine.net is an Italian magazine which appears monthly and reports on current news, culture, politics, and art. We are honored to have an article submitted and published on the January issue for their Italian readership both at home and abroad about our recent Day of the Dead tour of San Miguel de Allende.   







Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Valentine's Day Peposo



During my career as a teacher, I used to make this dish every year on a wintery day in February when my colleagues and I were at the end of our rope: the snow, the cold, the noisy, restless boys in our classrooms. It was comforting to get together, relaxing around a blazing fire as we inevitably talked shop...those boys we taught were never far from our minds. The Peposo filled our bellies and the wine brought a lighthearted silliness difficult to attain (nor would it have been recommendable) in the seriousness of our regular school setting.

This snowy Saturday, I prepared it as our Valentine's dinner to share with our cousins.

Peposo's origins are associated with the building of Brunelleschi's Duomo. Whether it's true or not, the story goes that the tiles used for the Duomo came from nearby Impruneta, an area famous to this day for its terra cotta. In Impruneta, the tile makers were in the habit of cooking this peppery, wine drenched meat in their tile making kilns. When the Duomo was built, many of these same laborers, hired to build the Duomo, cooked their Peposo all morning long, while they worked in the dizzying heights above the ground. When it was ready, the Peposo was sent up by a pulley so they could avoid the dangerous trip down.

Peposo for 6 persons

Prep time: 25 minutes
Cook time: 3 to 4 hours

Ingredients:

  • 5 lbs chuck roast
  • 1 tablespoon freshly ground pepper (you may want to adjust this to your taste)
  • 1 tablespoon pepper corns
  • 3 cloves garlic, peeled
  • 1 tablespoon sea salt
  • dry red wine, enough to cover the meat when ready to start cooking (about two bottles)
  • 5 bay leaves (I used fresh bay leaves, but you can use dry)
  • Olive oil for browning the meat

Method:
  1. Chop the meat into large cubes, taking care to remove fat as much as you are able to.
  2. Brown the cubes of meat with the garlic cloves in the olive oil over a medium flame, but remove the garlic cloves before they start to burn. Do this a few pieces at a time so you don't crowd your pot while you're doing this.
  3. Replace all the pieces of meat in the pot, add the bay leaves, salt, pepper corns, ground pepper, and the wine.
  4. Turn up the heat until it begins to boil, and lower until it begins to simmer. Place a lid on the pot, but leave it cracked open a bit so there is some evaporation.
  5. Stir every so often to be sure all the meat is getting cooked in the wine. After 3 or 4 hours, it will be ready, with a velvety, peppery sauce and meat that is tender and edible with a fork but still maintaining its form.

Note: You may want to prepare it a day ahead, and separate the meat chunks from the liquid in the pot. After you refrigerate it overnight, you can separate the fat that may appear on the surface of the liquid and then recombine the meat with the liquid and reheat before you serve it. I prepared an herbed polenta to go with it.

Sunday, February 1, 2015

Camotes con Leche - Sweet Potatoes with milk

I retired from 30+ years of teaching a year an a half ago. Recently I went back for a day to sub for a sick colleague. Ah! the energy it takes to teach, but it's nice to come home with no papers to grade. Here's a post I wrote while I was still teaching. It's worth reposting, since camotes or sweet potatoes are available at farmer's markets everywhere right now.


As a teacher at a boys' school where we sit at the table with our students for lunch, I have an unusual opportunity to observe the appetites of these hungry boys. There are those boys who are willing to eat the meals prepared by the school staff, which on most days are healthy, tasty, and presented appetizingly. Then there are the boys who perplex me with their fixation on eating the same cold sandwich of processed meat, rubbery cheese or a limp peanut butter and jelly, day after day. To me the question is whether this is nature or nurture. Does early exposure to different foods, their natural colors, textures, and smells make a difference for a child's developing appetite? Is it like a second language where if you get it early enough, you internalize it?

I am not a nutritionist, a pediatrician, nor a child psychologist, so I'm left to ponder this. I do know that as a child of my generation and region (the border to Mexico), I had no choice but to eat food in its most natural state. My mother didn't have the choice of reaching into a pantry filled with several varieties of Corn Flakes, Fruit Loops, or Lucky Charms; and actually, I'm thankful for that. In the winter, our breakfast might be atole de avena or maís. Another favorite was a poached egg in its shell with the top broken off (to be used as its own cup) with salt and pepper stirred into it with a toothpick. Not to be beaten for its basic simplicity was the baked sweet potato smashed into a bowl of cold milk my mother often served us. The texture of the sweet potato, or camote, as it is called in nahuatl, was smooth and creamy; the color was bright orange or straw colored and the taste of the cold milk against the steamy-hot sweet potato created an odd hot/cold sensation that added to the magic of this taste.




As it turns out, many nutritionists, including those at the Center for Science in the Public Interest (CSPI) believe that the single most important dietary change for children would be to replace fatty foods with foods rich in complex carbohydrates, such as...yes...the very plain and simple camotes we ate when we were little. According to the CSPI, sweet potatoes are considered at the top of the nutritional scale among vegetables. They are high in dietary fiber with naturally occurring sugars, protein, vitamins A and C, iron and calcium.

So, I submit that eating well doesn't need to be complicated, and teaching your child to be curious about food doesn't have to be impossible. And starting early is key. But, as a caveat, I would also venture to say that, for your three year old, the presence of colorful boxes and bags in your pantry might possibly be too much competition. Or maybe not.


Camotes con Leche


Recipe Type: Breakfast

Prep time: 5 mins

Cook time: 1 hour 30 mins

Total time: 1 hour 35 mins

Serves: 4

Ingredients:
  • Sweet potatoes, whatever quantity you prefer
  • Milk, to add to the bottom of your bowl of hot, smashed sweet potatoes

Instructions:
  1. Bake the sweet potatoes at 350 degrees for about 1 hour or more, until they are completely soft and the peel begins to separate from the sweet potato

  2. Spoon some of the sweet potato into a bowl of milk and smash it so that it more or less blends with the milk.

Notes:

I prefer to buy the thin purple skinned sweet potatoes in the belief they are sweeter and faster to bake since they're not huge.

Bake a large quantity and keep them in foil in your refrigerator for up to a week until you're ready to heat them quickly in the oven.


Monday, January 19, 2015

Adriana



Here is a repost of my interview of Adriana Legaspi, a fascinating personage involved in ethnographic rescue of the native gastronomy of Mexico. Her Gastrotour of Malinalco is a must if you travel to Mexico City. We recently talked about collaborating on tours to other, lesser known parts of Mexico, like Merida and Puebla to bring the knowledge of those pre-Hispanic cuisines to our respective followers both in Mexico and the U.S.

There is a movement afoot in Mexico to preserve the traditions of its indigenous cuisine and the ancient knowledge of the use of curative herbs. It involves the rescue and preservation of the ingredients, methods, and utensils common in the pre-Columbian past of Mesoamerica in the hopes that they do not flicker out of existence in our lifetime. With globalization and the proliferation of fast food franchises, it is no surprise that these ancient traditions are becoming a distant memory. In twenty-five years, who will know how to prepare tecorral tea, muicle, tlacoyos, or tamales de atepocate or know what they are, for that matter?

Enter Adriana Legaspi, founder of Gastrotour Prehispánico Malinalco, an anthropologist of the palate and a woman on a mission to preserve these traditions. She is neither the first nor the only person in Mexico bent on what Adriana calls 'the ethnogastronomic rescue'  but she certainly stands out in her passion and conviction.

A multi-faceted business woman who is not only proficient in the kitchen, Adriana also has degrees in communications, political science, and public affairs. Many years ago, she and her husband purchased a weekend home in the cobble-stoned mountain village of Malinalco outside of Mexico City. Adriana found herself in her element, naturally drawn to the wizened old 'doñas' in the ancient market of Malinalco, chatting, learning recipes, and listening to their stories of old times and ways.

With encouragement from friends and with a penchant for social causes, Adriana founded a project which would direct her seemingly boundless energy towards two goals: to preserve the culture and identity of the region and to help the women with a much needed income. This was the genesis of the Gastrotour Prehispánico of Malinalco. The tour consists of a hands-on cooking class on weekends, starting with a visit to the market in Malinalco to buy organic fruits, vegetables, and herbs grown by the seller herself at zero kilometers. She invites her guests to observe the fauna and the flora depicted on a convent wall, thus ensuring a
thorough understanding of the historical backdrop of the food they are preparing.

What follows is the first of a two-part interview with Adriana about her work to preserve the Mexican identity through its prehispanic cuisine:


When did you first become interested in cooking?


The truth is that I'm a product of a generation that did not hold cooking in high regard because it was associated with a lack of culture or professional status. I am the first generation of female college graduates in a family where the women had always considered marriage and the running of a household as the first priority.  My sisters and cousins began to take on minor professions in banks. The more professional we felt, the more we shunned the kitchen. Nevertheless, I'm a descendent of Italian immigrants to Mexico on my father's side for whom food and its preparation were of utmost importance in daily life. The quantity, the quality, freshness, uniqueness, and delectability for a traditional community in Northern Mexico where we lived, set us apart. As soon as I began my career in the hospitality industry, my own personal history became relevant as I found myself charged with the responsibility of organizing unique dining experiences at the empresarial level.

How did you come to get involved in the gastronomic tours of prehispanic cuisine in Malinalco?


This is a very long story whose chapters played out slowly starting from the first moment I arrived in Malinalco with my husband over 20 years ago. In spite of the enormous cultural offerings we enjoyed living in Mexico City, on weekends we spilled out of the city in search of open spaces and fresh air. That's how we ended up in Malinalco on many a weekend enjoying lunch in the subtropical climate of this town 88 kms from Mexico City. 

We often ate at a restaurant called El Tecorral situated in a grand old house dating from the 17th century where we took in the gardens, the climate, and the people. Soon we found ourselves buying a property in a place where every neighborhood had its Caocalli or Teocalli typical of Indian villages with a prehispanic past. The Augustin monks who arrived in Malinalco to evangelize in the 16th century built the Convento de la Transfiguracieon del Señor and directed every barrio to have its own saint and chapel. Ours came with a chapel; we purchased it from a seller who still has a a Nahua surname: Donaciano de la Fuente Tecayahuatl. 


Little by little I became involved in the life of the town, admiring its geography, its ecology, and naturally, its cuisine. I became aware of the strength of its indigenous origins and the pride in its traditions evident in daily life. Imagine a prehispanic market where you can find tlacoyos, a type of oval tortilla filled with fava bean paste or ricotta spiced with chilies, cooked on a clay comal by vendors like Doña Carmen. I started, then, to make a mental inventory of all that grabbed my attention to begin my ethnographic research. I began interviewing the elders, finding and documenting ingredients, looking for their existence in a precolombian past. The rest came naturally. 

I felt the need to help the economic possibilities of the women of the market who rely on their own meager income. The weekend visitors were not necessarily buying their products; hence, the beginning of my classes: to teach my students the importance of this food, its contextualization, the value in its freshness, helping these students to understand who we are and why we eat as we do. Then, going home to turn the ingredients into a meal.


Why do you think it's important to get back to authentic roots in mexican cuisine?


First of all, because the Mesoamerican diet is healthy... and because to eat guided by prehispanic and Mesoamerican principles of when to eat something is healthy.  Eating guayabas before and during winter, for example, provides the body with the vitamin C necessary for the immunological system to withstand the freezing weather of the central high plains of Mexico.

What is the attitude and/or interest now of the professional (upper and middle) classes in Mexico regarding authentic prehispanic cuisine?


Well, in reality, I think there is growing interest throughout the world, among those who can afford it, to eat authentic and traditional food. The designation of Mexican food as a world heritage cuisine has made it stylish, and chefs throughout Mexico are recuperating the tastes and recipes, creating them with modern techniques and charging exhorbitant prices.

To be continued...

*Photos courtesy of Adriana Legaspi.




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