In Puerto Rican cuisine there is a popular dish known as pastelitos, or meat pies. This dish entails the use of plantain leaves. A portion of cornmeal and meat filling is place on a leaf, which is then folded to give the meat pie its shape. Lastly, the meat is carefully removed from the plantain leaf and then deep-fried, hopefully retaining its form. We Nuyoricans found this time consuming and developed out own way of cooking this cornmeal dish. Nuyoricans, by the way, is the term applied to Puerto Ricans born or raised in New York. It was initially a derogatory term used by the islanders to described this populace. We then took the term as our own and as a measure of pride.
Our pastelitos omit the plantain leaf. We shape the cornmeal mixture with the hands or, better still, using two spoons and then deep-fry the mixture. In my family we never used the term pastelitos. To us these were simply Rellenos de Harina de Maíz or stuffed cornmeal balls. To this day they make a great appetizer or an entree served with vegetables or over yellow rice. The recipe enclosed is from my first cookbook, Puerto Rican Cuisine in America (Avalon Books – Thunders Mouth Press) .
RELLENOS DE HARINA DE MAĺZ
(Stuffed Cornmeal balls)
1 cup water
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons butter or margerine
2 cups yellow cornmeal
1/2 cup flour
1/4 cup olive oil
1 packet sazón accent (or sazón goya)
1 cup lean ground beef, about 3/4 pound
2 tablespoons tomato sauce
Vegetable oil for frying
1. Boil water in a small saucepan and add the salt and butter.
2. Combine cornmeal and flour in a bowl. Add the boiling water, mixing well to form a soft dough. Set aside and let stand for 30 minutes.
3. Meanwhile, heat oil in a skillet or cast iron pan. Add sazón and ground beef. Saute over medium heat until meat loses its color.
4. Stir in tomato sauce. Cover and simmer on low heat for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking.
5. Using a serving spoon (like a big rice spoon), scoop out a handful of cornmeal mix. Smooth out the mixture so that it’s level with the spoon. Place a teaspoon of beef filling atop the cornmeal. Cover filling with another tablespoon filled level with the cornmeal mix and shape the whole cornmeal ball into an oval. Keep the spoons slightly wet while doing this. Some cooks prefer to shape the cornmeal balls by hand. Use whatever technique works for you.
6. Deep-fry in hot oil until golden.
Yield: About 8 stuffed cornmeal balls.
Photo: courtesy of Grain Plain Foods—online store
Traditionally, Memorial Day weekend means the beginning of the grillin” season, particularly in the Northeast. We dig out the old barbecue grill from the back of the garage or the closet (if we live in apartments) and begin the annual ritual. So, this season, I’m starting off simple—as simple as grilled salmon. As I’ve noticed in other blogs, grilling fish, particularly fillets, the easiest of all procedures. And salmon works well. yeah, I know, the standbys are burgers, hot dogs, steaks, etc. But try some fish. You’ll be surprised at its juicy, succulent texture. And, if per chance, you don’t have a grill, you can still us the broiler–oven. Just broil the fish for 5-6 minutes, depending on thickness, or until easily flaked with a fork.
SIMPLE GRILLED SALMON
Like most Americans, when it came to Chinese food, I grew up eating basic Cantonese fare which had morphed into American-Chinese cuisine. You know what I’m talking about: friend rice, egg food young, chow mein, chop suey, etc. I recall that in the Rivera family (as in probably every other family at the time), Friday night we would trudge to Chinatown and go to the Hong Fat Restaurant on Mott Street and order our perennial favorites: the aforementioned fried rice, baby spare ribs, Cantonese noodles, chow fun, and (on special occasions) lobster in garlic sauce. Hong Fat is no longer around, having closed years ago. But Cantonese fare remains.
Then in the late 1970s, restaurants featuring Szechuan food started popping up in Asian neighborhoods. It was a far cry from American-Chinese. I was impressed, not by the spiciness of the food, but by the subtle uses of hot spices within the food. Szechuan dishes are not simply hot, they contain many flavors—sweet, sour, bitter, salty, fragrant, and aromatic. They not only stimulate the palate, they make us more sensitive to those flavors. After years of bland Cantonese-style food, this was a revelation. I was hooked.
What does give the hot component to Szechuan cuisine is in its use of chili peppers. But initially, chili peppers were not utilized in Szechuan cooking. The Chinese had their own milder variety, faraga, also called Chinese of Szechuan pepper. The cuisine became even more peppery when Portuguese and Spanish traders introduced chilies to the region during the 16th century.
The dish given below is one of my favorites. An inclusive, simple, all-in-one meal that harbors the taste of this fabulous cuisine. This particular recipe is from my second cookbook, Feasting with the Ancestors (Sutton Publishing, UK)
SZECHUAN-STYLE NOODLES
1 pound fresh noodles (Chinese thin noodles are the best, otherwise, angel hair pasta is a good substitute)
3 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil
1/2 pound shredded barbecued pork, store bought or home made*
1/2 cup bok choy, washed, drained, and cut into bite-sized pieces
1/2 cup carrots, cut on the diagonal into 1/2-inch pieces
1/2 cup broccoli florets
1/2 cup snow peas
1 onion, thinly sliced
1 cup chicken broth
1 teaspoon cornstarch (or as needed)
2 tablespoons light soy sauce
2 tablespoons hoisin sauce
1 teaspoon sesame oil
1/2 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon Chinese chili paste with garlic (can use more or less depending on taste)
1. Parboil the noodles in a pot of boiling water for 3 minutes. To make sure noodles do not stick, loosen up the noodles with chopsticks as they boil.
2. Heat the oil in a wok or large frying pan. Add the pork, bok choy, carrots, broccoli, snow peas and onion, and stir-fry until the vegetables are crisp-tender, about 2 minutes. Remove the vegetables to a platter.
3. Add the remaining ingredients, stirring until thickened. Add the pork and vegetables and stir well until the mixture comes to a boil. Taste and adjust seasonings as desired. Serve.
Yield: 4 servings.
*You can substitute a chicken breast, cut into strips, for the barbecued pork. In this case, stir-fry the chicken until nearly done, remove the chicken from the wok and continue as directed with the recipe, adding the chicken and vegetables to the sauce as the last step.
Photo: Courtesy of Tablespoon
The margarita cocktail, which some believe was the precursor of the margarita pit (MexGrocer.com)
How about an adult pie? What? Something like a margarita pie. I’m sure we’ve all heard of the margarita cocktail. It’s become an American favorite: a concoction of tequila mixed with Cointreau or similar orange-flavored liqueur, lime or lemon juice, with the glass often rimmed with salt. Well, there’s an edible version very popular in the western U.S. and the plain states—and that’s the margarita pie.
The origins of this dessert are unknown. Enough to say that this is not a dessert for kids. But if you want to liven up your next bash, and there are no teetotalers around, this is a fabulous dessert.
MARGARITA PIE
Cinco de Mayo is coming up. That is, the fifth of May holiday that is celebrated in Mexico, and now is popular in the United States. In the U.S. the holiday is a misnomer in a way. They regard it as Mexican Independence Day, something similar to our Fourth of July. In actuality, Cinco de Mayo celebrates the Battle of Puebla in Mexico wherein the French invaded Mexico (they saw an opportunity while the U.S. was busy fighting a Civil War), and 6,500 Frenchmen cam up against 4,000 Mexicans. A bloody battle ensued, and the Mexican army won. And what began as a local celebration in Puebla, is now celebrated in most other Mexican states as well.
In the fiesta of Cinco de Mayo, traditional foods such as guacamole, tamales, and tacos are enjoyed. But, how about something different for this coming Cinco de Mayo fest? Something delicious and sweet. I’m talking about churros. Basically, it’s a deep fried pastry dough also know as a Spanish doughnut. It was developed centuries ago by Spanish goat herders since it could be cooked quick and easy over an open fire. With the Spanish conquest of the Americas it wasn’t long before the dish made its way up to the Southwest, where it came be known as a Spanish cruller. I like churros; always have. It’s one of the best meals ever, either as a dessert or other.
CHURROS
No, its not what you think. Cock-a-Leekie, believe it or not, is a soup of Scottish origin made with leeks and chicken. It is referred to as Scotland’s “national soup.” Think of asopao in Puerto Rican cooking, udon in Japanese cuisine, or good old chicken soup in America. According to the New York Times Food Encyclopedia, the dish most likely originated in France, where it was initially made with onions. By the 16th century it had reached Scotland, and the onions had been replaced with leeks. How the name “cock-a-leekie” came about? No one knows. But tell any Scotsman or woman about cock-a-leekie, and their eyes will sparkle.
Let me add that in some recipes, prunes are added to the soup. I’ve never added prunes. Also, I add onions to to my recipe, which I acquired years ago. I also add garlic since I’m a garlic freak. This soup goes great with a hearty ale (I prefer an IPA or India Pale Ale) and some good crusty bread.
COCK-A-LEEKIE
1 three-pound chicken with giblets
8 cups water or more to cover
Salt to taste
10 whole peppercorns, crushed
1 bay leaf
3 sprigs parsley
1 carrot, trimmed, scraped and quartered
4 cups finely shredded leaks (before shredding, cut the leeks into 3-inch lengths)
1 small onion, peeled and chopped
2 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed
3 tablespoons rice
1. Truss the chicken if you prefer. Add it to large pot or kettle, and add the neck, if used, and giblets. Add the water, salt, pepper, bay leaf, parsley and carrot. Bring to a boil and simmer, skimming the surface often to remove scum and foam, for 20 minutes.
2. Add the leeks, onion, garlic and rice, and continue simmering 20 minutes longer. Remove and discard the parsley and bay leaf.
3. Remove the chicken and giblets. Now, you can either serve the soup, without the chicken, as a first course; and serve the chicken later, carved as a main course. Or you can serve the cut-up chicken in bowls with the soup.
Yield: 4 to 6 servings.
Picture: courtesy of Farm Clipart Images
In the Rivera family, we always had lamb for Easter. And this was enshrine in a post I did back in April 2011, where I posted the recipe for my mother’s famous roasted leg of lamb (Pata de Cornero al Horno). I could reprise that recipe again for this coming Easter but then I thought, why not try something new with lamb? Delicious as it is, does it always have to be a whole leg of lamb? Also, if you haven’t noticed, a leg of lamb is an expensive proposition these days. Here, on the East Coast, it can run you up to $75-80. I know, it’s for a special occasion, but still? That doesn’t mean you still can’t have lamb for Easter. In fact, you can do very well with say, for instance, lamb shanks.
I love lamb shanks. That’s what I’m cooking for my beloved group of pagans and Christians this Easter Sunday. (For the record, I include myself in the former group). Back in the old days, one recipe we revered in our family was Caribbean style lamb shanks. Where Italian cuisine would tout its Osso Buco, or braised veal shanks, we celebrated our Muslo Cornero a la Caribe. It wasn’t veal, but the taste and flavor transported us to heaven.
The recipe given is from my first cookbook, Puerto Rican Cuisine in America (Perseus Books Group). Unlike the traditional method of cooking shanks, we do not dust them with flour and then brown them in oil. We differ in that we trim the shanks of fat, then brown them, and finally simmer in slow cooking until done.
MUSLO CORNERO A LA CARIBE
(Lamb Shanks Caribbean Style)
4 lamb Shanks (about 3 1/2 pounds)
Juice of 1 whole lemon
Salt and ground black pepper to taste
1/2 cup olive oil
1 28-ounce can plum tomatoes
1 medium onion, peeled and finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon chopped cilantro
1 packet Sason Goya (with coriander and annatto—found in most stores or Caribbean markets)
2 bay leaves
1. Rinse lamb shanks and pat dry with paper towels.
2. Trim excess fat from shanks.
3. Sprinkle with lemon juice. Season with salt and pepper.
4. Heat olive oil in a heavy kettle or Dutch oven. Add lamb shanks and brown evenly on low-moderate heat.
5. Add tomatoes with their liquid, onion, garlic, oregano, cilantro, sason, and bay leaves.
6. Bring to a boil. Cover and simmer on low heat for 1 1/2 hours or until tender. Serve with rice pilaf, or yellow rice and pigeon peas.
Yield: 4 servings.
Photo: courtesy of etsy.com
One of my favorite appetizers is deviled eggs. I could eat a dozen at a time. Something about deviled eggs that is habit forming; like peanuts, you just can’t eat one. Deviled eggs are a simple convenience—hard boiled eggs cut in half, with the egg yolk mixed with mustard, mayonnaise and other ingredients. Nothing could be simpler. Question is: why are they called “deviled eggs?” According to the Oxford Companion to Food, the word “deviled” first appeared as a culinary term in the 18th century, and it meant “to cook something with fiery hot spices or condiments.” It stands to reason since heat and the devil have always had something in common (think of Hell). By the 19th century in America, “deviled” was applied to a variety of spicy dishes, inclusive of “deviled eggs.”
According to the TV show The Secret Life Of. . . . on the Food Network, deviled eggs originated in ancient Rome, where the use of spices or spicy sauces with eggs was very common. As one cane see, the dish has a noble and storied history. And in the 1950s and 60s it took off in America as a widely popular snack. In fact, they became so popular that a special tray was created to serve them.
The recipe given below is from Mrs. Alba Rosario Parsons, neighbor and dear friend in Vermont. The recipe has been in her family for ages.
DEVILED EGGS
6 hard cooked eggs
1/4 cup mayonnaise
2 tablespoons Gulden’s mustard
1/8 teaspoon Tabasco sauce
Salt and ground black pepper to taste
Paprika for garnish
1/4 cup chopped stuffed Spanish olives
Peel the eggs. Cut them in half, and remove the yolk to a small bowl. Mash them with a fork, and add the mayonnaise, mustard, Tabasco, salt and pepper. Mix thoroughly. Using a spoon, fill up the empty egg halves with the mixture. Sprinkle lightly with paprika, and top with chopped olives.
Note: Instead of using a spoon, you can also make a hole at the end of a plastic ziplock baggy, put the mixture inside, and use the baggy as as sieve to fill the egg halves.
Caption: courtesy of photobucket.
Saint Patrick’s day is just around the corner—which means green beer, corned beef and cabbage, and Irish soda bread. The green beer you can keep. I tried it once and got sick as a dog. Corned beef and cabbage I like. But it’s Irish soda bread I love. I can eat a whole loaf by itself just with butter. It’s particular consistency and taste is delightful. So imagine my chagrin when I found out the Irish didn’t invent Irish soda bread. Baking soda, which is used as leavening agent instead of yeast, has been around for centuries. In fact, if anyone can be credited with inventing “Irish” soda bread it is Native American Indians, who used soda ash or “pearl ash” to leaven their bread. The chemical compound, bicarbonate of soda, wasn’t used in Ireland before the 1840s. So how did the Irish come to claim this bread as their own? And this, like most things, comes down to economics. Hard wheat flour, the kind used today by almost everyone, requires yeast so that the bread can rise and then be baked. Back then, as in most poor countries, the Irish had access to only soft wheat flour, which doesn’t do well with yeast but is great for quick breads such as Irish soda bread. Another factor was that most Irish homes did not have ovens, they had open hearths, thus the breads were baked on griddles or big iron pots over open flames. This meant the Irish remained with soft wheat flour and soda bread, while Britain and the Americas stayed with hard wheat flour and yeast.
Mush has changed since the bad old days. And today Irish soda bread is an international favorite not only in Ireland here but also here the U.S., and elsewhere. Another tidbit: why, in some parts of Ireland, do they still cut a cross on top of the bread with a knife? Ostensibly this is to ward off the devil and keep evil spirits away from the home. Whether you buy this or not is immaterial—the bread does warm the tummy.
Here is my own recipe for Irish soda bread. I got it years ago from someone, I can’t remember who (most probably during a bash in some pub on St. Paddy’s Day); but it’s a favorite with family and friends, Irish or otherwise.
IRISH SODA BREAD
4 cups flour (and more as needed)
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoons baking powder
3 tablespoons sugar
1/2 stick butter
2 cups buttermilk
1 cup raisins
1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.
2. In a large bowl, stir together the flour, salt, baking soda, baking powder, and sugar. Cut in the butter. Make a well in the center and add the buttermilk. Mix lightly and quickly to make a wet dough. Fold in the raisins.
3. Turn out on a floured board, and add a little more flour as needed. Knead ten times or more.
4. Shape into a 7 or 8-inch loaf pan which has been lightly greased (with Crisco shortening). With a knife, cut a cross on top of the bread. Place in oven and bake for 45 minutes or until golden. The bread is done when a knife stuck in the middle, comes out clean. Turn the loaf out onto a cooling rack and let it cool briefly before slicing.
Yield: Makes one loaf (4 servings or more).
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