Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Sopes with Shrimp and Cactus


Nopales (cactus) boiled with cloves of garlic and strained
So much of what the indigenous people of Mexico eat is finger food, picked up gingerly and eaten with the hands, while it is hot, freshly made, and handed to those gathered around the hot comal. Freshly nixtamalized corn is shaped into small tortillas, gorditas, tlacoyos, huaraches, or sopes...all vessels that will carry the vegetables, the beans, or the meats to those hungry mouths. You simply can't eat some of these things with a fork. They won't even taste the same. The base of all 'wrappings' in Mexican food is, of course, this corn dough, sometimes thickly patted by hand, sometimes flattened thinly in a tortilla press...small, large, oval, round, fried, cooked on a comal, or steamed, but it's all corn dough.

Sopes fit into the category of small, edible 'plates' of corn with diverse toppings, usually offered ahead of a meal. You make your masa (dough) using commercial corn dough like Maseca if you're not lucky enough to live in Mexico where you can always find freshly ground corn dough. For your dough, use slightly more water than the recipe calls for so that your dough doesn't crack on the edges. Here's a recipe for sopes made in an oval shape. These are not fried the way you often find them sometimes and the topping is an amazing mixture of nopal (cactus, or prickly pear) with dried shrimp which is rehydrated with warm water. I've mixed a red chile ancho sauce.

We don't yet have all the evidence to call cactus a superfood, but we know it's part of a healthy diet:  it's high in fiber and antioxidants.

My aunt, Tía Leila, helped me make these in San Miguel de Allende last time we were there. Tía Leila, who is in her 80's, explained to me they were often eaten during Lent in our family when she was a child and later when she was raising her family.

Dried shrimp after rehydration


Sope topped with shrimp, cactus, and chile guajillo salsa




Sopes with Shrimp and Cactus

Recipe Type: Appetiser


Cuisine: Mexican


Author: Gilda Valdez Carbonaro


Prep time:


Cook time:


Total time:


Serves: 4


Dried shrimp is an ingredient that is usually found in Latino stores, but you can substitute boiled fresh shrimp, of course. I've seen the cactus paddles very often now in regular grocery stores. I recommend you prepare a chile guajillo sauce ahead of time: http://culinarianexpeditions.blogspot.com/2012/04/la-madrina-salsa-recipes.html

Ingredients:
  • 3 cups chopped cactus
  • 2 cloves garlic
  • 2 cups small dried shrimp (or fresh tiny boiled shrimp)
  • 4 cups commercial corn dough (following the recipe on the package)
  • red chile guajillo salsa, see http://culinarianexpeditions.blogspot.com/2012/04/la-madrina-salsa-recipes.html
  • chopped cilantro, optional

Instructions:
  1. Place the dried shrimp in a bowl of hot water to soak for about 30 minutes.

  2. Boil the cactus for about 10 minutes with the peeled cloves of garlic, then strain and set aside.

  3. Drain the shrimp, peel it and chop it.

  4. Place the shrimp and the drained, cooked cactus in a bowl.

  5. Stir in enough chile guajillo salsa to your preference, see recipe http://culinarianexpeditions.blogspot.com/2012/04/la-madrina-salsa-recipes.html

  6. Make the corn masa according to the instructions on the package, adding a few extra tablespoons of water to make it more pliable.

  7. Shape balls of dough about ping pong sized into cylinders.

  8. Flatten them between your hands until you have oval shapes about 1/8 inch thick. (Keep your hands slightly damp)

  9. Place the oval shapes (sopes) on a medium comal (iron griddle) and cook them on both sides until you see spots on the dough.

  10. Remove the sopes from the comal and pinch the sides so they all have ridges on the edges.

  11. Spoon your shrimp/cactus mixture onto the sopes and place them on the comal again for a few minutes before placing them on a tray.

  12. If you like, top the sopes with chopped cilantro.


Saturday, January 11, 2014

Silky Flan




This started out as a blog about Mexican cuisine, but how well we know that cultures cross, mixing and blending together into improved versions of the original. Many years ago I discovered this flan, otherwise known as crème caramel in French, as a guest at a country house in northern France. Our  hostess served it to my three year old son, my youngest sister  and me at the end of a sumptuous meal at a table set by a roaring fire in this country house. The impeccable French hospitality created a welcoming ambiance, leaving us with warm memories of the evening. I can remember almost everything from that meal about 30 years ago, everything prepared to perfection.  But it was the flan (crème caramel)  that came as a revelation. I wondered why I had ever tolerated those overly sweet, rubbery, rich things that looked like Swiss cheese.

In Mexico and other countries in Latin America, condensed milk is used, rendering it cloyingly sweet. No sugary condensed milk here, only whole milk, resulting in a silky, elegant custard with the smoothest texture imaginable. It makes a supreme arrival at the end of a good meal. It became one of my son's most requested desserts growing up.

Silky Flan

Recipe Type: Dessert

Cuisine: Mexican

Author: Gilda Valdez Carbonaro

Prep time:

Cook time:

Total time:

Serves: 6

The preparation time for this dessert does not include the cooling time in the refrigerator, about three hours.

Ingredients:
  • For the caramelized sugar
  • ½ cup sugar
  • ¼ cup water
  • ¼ tsp. cream of tartar

For the Custard
  • 2 cups milk
  • 1 tsp vanilla
  • ¼ cup sugar
  • 3 eggs plus 2 egg yolks
  • zest of one orange (optional)
Instructions:

Preheat oven to 325

Caramel
  1. Work quickly to line your 1 quart porcelain mold (or individual molds) and wear mitts if you're worried about getting burned with the melted sugar. Place the mold on a large strip of wax paper.

  2. In a small, heavy saucepan, bring the sugar and water to a boil over high heat, stirring until the sugar dissolves and stirring in the cream of tartar.

  3. Boil the syrup over moderate heat tipping the pan back and forth almost constantly, until the syrup turns into a rich color of brown that looks like tea. It takes around 10 minutes.

  4. Remove the pan and carefully pour the syrup into the mold in a thin stream, tipping and swirling the mold to coat the bottom and sides as evenly as possible.

  5. When the syrup stops moving, turn the mold upside down on the wax paper to cool and let any excess syrup run out.

Custard
  1. In a 1 – 1 ½ quart saucepan, bring the milk almost to a boil over moderate heat.

  2. Remove the pan from the stove and add the vanilla extract.

  3. With an electric mixer beat the sugar, eggs, and egg yolks until they're well mixed and thickened. Add the zest if you like this flavor.

  4. Stirring gently and constantly, pour in the milk in a thin stream (you don't want to do this all at once because you'll get scrambled eggs)

  5. Strain this mixture through a sieve into your mold and place the mold in a large pan on the middle shelf of the oven.

  6. Pour boiling water into the pan until it comes about halfway up the sides of the mold.

  7. Bake the flan, but be careful to lower the temperature of the oven if you see the water in the pan beginning to boil.

  8. After about an hour, insert a knife in the center. If it comes out clean, it's ready.

  9. Take the mold out of the water and refrigerate the flan for at least 3 hours.

  10. To unmold it, run a sharp knife all around the edge and dip the bottom of the mold briefly in hot water. Then dry the bottom, place your serving plate upside down over the mold and grabbing both sides firmly, quickly turn the plate and mold over.

  11. Rap the plate on a table and the flan should slide easily out of the mold.

  12. Pour any extra caramel remaining in the mold over the flan.





Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Chilacayote Empanadas


Yesterday, Memorial Day 2013, I wrote in my journal:

On a day like today my son was buried, at the very front of neat, diagonal rows of tombstones. The empty, verdant field in front of his grave where his mother and father gasped in anguish at the sight of his casket on that day, is now a fully populated landscape, filled with the lost dreams of young lives ripped away from this earth so early, so incomprehensibly. The rows grew from Alex's grave in all directions, of those young who still lived, breathed, and dreamed they would survive, when Alex was lowered into the ground. So much was lost and buried forever, never to be found again.

I could not bear to write about celebratory food. I longed to write about memories of times past, memories that didn't tread anywhere near the symbols of this day. Would you humor me with my recipe for empanadas which I learned from my aunt in Mexico? Because...after that moment in our lives seven years ago, we ever so slowly learned to live again, and food once again became the expression of love that it had always been. These chilacayote empanadas are truly special, divine little folded pockets of love, flaky on the outside with a golden, angel-hair surprise spilling out of every bite. My elderly aunt, Leyla, prepared the filling in the little town of Marfil, Guanajuato, recently, and then packed the jars filled with the angel hair chilacayote in her suitcase for her bus ride to San Miguel de Allende where she visited us. It all reminded me of those days so long ago in Laredo when the aunts arrived with bags full of delicacies from Monterrey, Puebla, or Villaldama.



Chilacayote is a squash that favors a mountain micro climate, very common in the area around San Miguel de Allende; its mottled sage green color is a delight to the eyes, and, as it turns out, you can prepare a million different things from chilacayote, just take a look online.


One of my favorites is candied chilacayote and another is agua de chilacayote. Anyway, Tía Leyla arrived with the cooked, amber colored angel hair chilacayote filling and it was a perfect beginning for a tray of empanadas. We put our aprons on the next morning and got to work, cranking out dozens of empanadas ready to offer friends arriving at our house from out of town later that day. I lost myself that day in the good moments shared with a beloved aunt and the conviviality of those days that followed with friends that came and went, exclaiming over our seemingly endless supply of
empanadas.



Chilacayote Empanadas

Recipe Type: dessert


Cuisine: Mexican


Author: Gilda Valdez Carbonaro


Prep time:


Cook time:


Total time:


Serves: 15


This recipe is on the difficult side but well worth it if you can find chilacayotes where you live.

Ingredients:
  • a 5 lb chilacayote (more or less)
  • brown sugar or piloncillo (you will measure half the weight of your baked squash)
  • 2 cloves
  • 1 stick cinnamon
  • grated peel of one orange

Instructions:
  1. Cut the chilacayote in half and bake covered for one hour in a 350 degree oven.

  2. Remove from the oven and scoop out the flesh.

  3. You don't have to remove the seeds, they're good for you!

  4. Weigh it and place in a large pot covered with water, half the weight in sugar, the cloves, the stick of cinnamon and the grated peel of the orange.

  5. Cook at medium heat for about 45 minutes until it all caramelizes and the water evaporates.

  6. Take care to stir often so it doesn't stick.

Notes


The recipe for the pastry is here: http://culinarianexpeditions.blogspot.com/2011/11/floria-pumpkin-empanadas.html


Friday, April 12, 2013

Fava Bean Soup

After a week's worth of splendid weather in San Miguel de Allende and festivities with family and friends leading up to Easter Sunday, getting back to the classroom has been, frankly, difficult. I love my job as a teacher and always delight in seeing my students after a long break. But I'm also thinking of my trip over Spring Break, the recent memories like the sun warming my back.

In San Miguel, the furiously twittering birds entice you out of your bedroom early in the morning. From the rooftop you observe the glory of each morning and consider the day's promises. Time's awastin', mi vida, levántate, the melodious birds also seem to be telling me.



This year, we had a special visitor. An elderly aunt who took a nine hour bus ride all the way from Monterrey to be with us. Tía Leyla is our regiomontana (a native of Monterrey, Mexico) Mary Poppins. She has the profound wisdom of her years and the exuberant energy of a 20 year old. She's a powerful storyteller, weaving tales from a remote past, she vividly brings to life the village where my father was born in Mexico. Each morning we made coffee and set the table, taking pleasure in small things, reminiscing, grateful for the opportunity to be together for what was left of our vacation.

Tía Leyla is the kind of person who makes you believe things will be alright; she calls everyone hijo or hija, even the cabdrivers. She has a wise nugget of wisdom for every occasion. She writes poetry (and recites it!). She is kind, intelligent, and a devoted Catholic. If you suspected that she is perhaps is little overzealous in her religious devotion, you would see her differently after a few days in her company. She doesn't preach, she practices and does so quietly. You will never hear a cross word or complaint coming from her.

So, if I bring you these Lenten specialities after Easter, you will forgive me because I did 'seize the moment' by spending this quality time with my aunt.



Let's start first with fava bean soup. Fava bean soup is something eaten in Mexico especially during the period of Lent and it's something we ate often this past week. My aunt and I prepared it with fava beans we bought at the Tianguis outside of San Miguel. There is a buttery, creamy texture to this bean soup that makes it very special.  You will find it very easy to make with the dry fava beans you find at the grocery store here. You can even make it with canned fava beans, but you will get a creamier texture if you make them yourself.

Fava Bean Soup

Recipe Type: soup

Cuisine: Mexican

Author: Gilda Valdez Carbonaro

Prep time:

Cook time:

Total time:

Serves: 6

It is magic to watch these homely looking dried beans become this velvety, elegant soup. If you can make your own chicken broth for this, it's better, if not, use commercial broth. If you can make your own beans, it's also better, if not, use canned beans. But just try this soup, it's delicious!

Ingredients:
  • 5 cups dry fava beans
  • 3 roma tomatoes, chopped finely
  • 1 medium sized onion, chopped finley
  • 2 cloves garlic, chopped
  • olive oil to cook tomatoes, onion, and garlic
  • 3 cups chicken broth
  • salt to taste
  • cilantro for garnish
Instructions:
  1. Soak the fava beans overnight.

  2. Place them in a pot and cover them completely with fresh water.

  3. Bring to a boil and then lower the heat, cooking them for about 2 hours.

  4. Add the chicken soup; it should be a soupy, lumpy, creamy texture.

  5. Separately, cook the onion slowly until it is almost transparent.

  6. Add the tomatoes, and garlic and cook this mixture covered until it is practically dissolved.

  7. When it is completely cooked, add this mixture to the pot of beans.

  8. Cook for another 20 minutes, adjust for salt.

  9. Serve in bowls as a first course, or in ramekins, as an appetizer, garnished with cilantro.








Saturday, March 16, 2013

Mixing Cultures: Capirotada for Alex



Our son was raised in a household where his Italian father and Mexican mother reigned in the kitchen with battling cuisines. The Italian cuisine won the battles more often than not, but never to anyone's disadvantage. Frankly, during these last thirty-five years of marriage, it has become as easy for me to cook a good risotto as an arroz a la mexicana. So, often it's me cooking Italian with a wary eye to my husband who is known to slip into the kitchen at the least expected moment in a badly timed effort to straighten up the kitchen counter, inadvertently sabotaging my cooking (ie; throwing down the disposal a pound of orange sections from which I've just removed the membrane and put aside.)

Needless to say, meals have been important to us. Through the years we learned to settle for Mexican breakfast: taquitos, quesadillas, atoles, frijoles, huevos a la mexicana. But the rest of the day has often been reserved for Italian family favorites. It hasn't always been easy to 'mix' things, though, because one always wants to reproduce things as they were in our taste bud memories. One morning, discovering I was out of corn oil, my husband and I argued about whether I should mix olive oil with refried beans. The conversation went something like this:

Me (with fanatic conviction): I'm not cooking my pinto beans with olive oil!
My husband (testy): Why not?
Me: Not gonna do it!
Alex (attempting to mediate with the hope of getting breakfast at some point): Papá, she doesn't like to mix her cultures.

So, Alex had gotten to the crux of the matter, as usual. He was mostly right. I've liked to keep my cuisines compartmentalized. But, here, to honor and remember my baby who was born in April almost 32 years ago, I've made a special capirotada. Capirotada is a Lenten-Passover bread pudding that has been made in Mexico in a myriad of ways. The three main ingredients that give this dish its Mexican essence are dark brown sugar (piloncillo), cinnamon and clove.  It is not a typical bread pudding with egg and milk and usually falls limp and floppy on the plate. I've adapted the recipe, keeping the three main ingredients but adding milk and egg to give it the elegance of the mold it is baked in.



I've used my husband's homemade Italian bread which is slightly sour, but you can use any good quality artisan bread. In addition, I have added orange peel and walnuts that bring to mind the desserts of Italy. The fragrance of orange, cinnamon, and clove will fill your kitchen for hours.

Alex, your teasing, lop-sided smile is always with me in the kitchen...looking over my shoulder, prodding, taste-testing, keeping my wine glass filled, putting on my favorite salsa music to cook by. How precious, how short, how bittersweet, the times we shared...




Capirotada

Ingredients:

1 large egg
1 1/3 cup dark brown sugar
4 cups water
1 stick cinnamon
1 teaspoon vanilla
4 cloves
1/3 cup walnuts
1 small loaf French bread or any artisan style bread sliced and left to harden and then toasted, torn up into small chunks and placed in a bowl
3 tablespoons butter
zest of one large orange
2/3 cup whole milk or heavy cream
To garnish: crème fraiche, clotted cream, or Mexican crema if you can find it.

Preparation:
In a saucepan bring the water to boil with the sugar until it dissolves. Add the cloves and cinnamon, cooking at a boil for about 20 minutes, until it becomes syrupy. Remove from the heat, discarding the cinnamon sticks and cloves, adding the butter to melt in the hot syrup. Add the zest as an effusion of flavor into the hot syrup. Let it sit for 10 minutes.

In a bowl beat the egg and the milk or cream together. Pour slowly into the warm syrup mixture taking care not to curdle the eggs. Stir well.

Pour the syrup, egg and cream mixture into the bowl with the bread. Be sure to moisten all the bread with the poured liquid. Add walnuts. Pour this into a buttered flan dish.

Cover with foil and bake for about half an hour at 375 degrees. Remove the foil for 15 more minutes to brown the Capirotada. Set aside for 10 minutes before serving. It can be topped with crème fraiche to counterbalance the sweetness of the piloncillo.

Option: add ½ cup yellow raisins when you pour the syrup, milk and egg mixture into the bread.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Recipe Review: Diana Kennedy's Lenten Beans




I recently purchased Diana Kennedy's book Oaxaca al Gusto, a 400 page tome on the indigenous food of Oaxaca, which, in many cases, is unknown even to many Mexicans outside of these valleys. Here you will find recipes with the fundamental building blocks of the food of the region: chocolate, chiles, and corn. And, as Adriana Legaspi has argued, these meals are not just a means of nourishment, but, rather, an important way to understand how they fit within ancient traditions practiced by the community.

Monday, February 18, 2013

A Hot Meal On the Go: Sincronizadas Gringas

This summer I will take my middle school students to San Miguel de Allende and already the menu of what they'll eat dances in my head. It should be authentic but not too exotic, healthy, but appealing to even the least adventurous 13-year-old. Some things are just going to look mysterious to them, but they will not leave Mexico without tasting mole in the Oaxacan style. The experience at the table is another facet of the culture,  another dimension of the country and its people. Hence, missing out on the gastronomic opportunities is a total loss, no matter how many hours of Spanish you offer students.