Mofongo. I love the word. Pronounced just like it’s spelled. Undoubtedly of African origin. Basic Puerto Rican mofongo a mixture of crushed plantains and fried pork crackling shaped into balls, similar to meatballs. Cuban mofongo differs in that the mixture is shaped into one large ball served in a bowl. Modern variations have the mofongo stuffed with beef, poultry, or seafood, especially lobster. It is delicious as an appetizer, side dish, or a meal on its own. And, yes, the recipe is from my first cookbook, Puerto Rican Cuisine in America (Perseus Books Group).
MOFONGO (PLANTAINS AND PORK CRACKLING)
5 green plantains
1/2 pound salted pork, washed and diced
3 cloves garlic, peeled
2 tablespoons olive oil
Vegetable oil for frying
1. Peel Plantains and cut into diagonal slices about 1-inch thick.
2. Place plantains and diced salted pork in a pot with water to cover. Let soak for 10 minutes.
3. Drain and wipe dry both plantains and salted pork.
4. Place salted pork in a hot skillet or frying pan (no extra oil is necessary). Stir-fry over high heat until pieces are browned and crisp (about 5 minutes) and put aside. This is known as the chicharron or pork crackling.
5. Heat vegetable oil in the same skillet and deep-fry plantains until golden. Drain well on paper towels.
6. Crush plantains and pork crackling together in a mortar. This may have to be done in batches depending on size of mortar. Place in a bowl and set aside.
7. Crush garlic cloves in the mortar. Blend in the olive oil.
8. Add garlic-oil seasoning to the plantains and crackling, and mix thoroughly.
9. Scoop up a tablespoon of the mixture and shape into a ball (about 2-inches in diameter, or larger if desired). Repeat until mix is used up.
10. Serve by itself or with your favorite sauce, or gravy.
Yield: 12 or more mofongo balls.
I recall the first time I was down south, and it was when I was in the military, fresh out of boot camp. I stopped by a local soda fountain store in some God-forsaken burg somewhere and asked for an egg cream. The old cracker behind the counter gave me a weird look and said, “Pard’on?” I repeated my request. He stared at me myopically through thick lens glasses and said, “Yuh wan’ an a-i-ggh in yore cream?” I knew then I was in foreign territory, at least where egg creams are concerned.
Egg creams, in the north, and by that I mean the New York metropolitan area, are a rite of passage, a legendary elixir that defies imagination. I’ve had a love affair when egg creams since my early youth. Even in the Spanish Harlem of old, we revered egg creams. It transcended race, creed, nationality. It was, and still is to some of us, the ultimate good time drink—especially in you like chocolate.
Egg cream’s genesis is said to have begun in Brooklyn, N.Y. Yes, the same borough that gave the world Barbra Streisand, Neil Simon, Neil Young and William Bendix, gave us the egg cream, that immutable mix of cold milk (whole, not skim or partially skimmed), chocolate syrup and seltzer. Historians claims that is began in the Jewish community in the 18880s and 1900s. Yet, it does not have an egg. Some authorities state that initially, before World War II, it did contain an egg that was mixed in with whipped cream and chocolate syrup. I cannot say if this is true or not. The consensus behind this theory is that the egg was dropped from the drink because of wartime rationing.
What I do know is that in my part of the world there has been an ongoing discussion, some would say an argument, about what type of chocolate syrup to use. When I was a kid, it was divided into two camps: those who favored the traditional Fox’s U-bet Chocolate Syrup, and those who preferred Hershey’s Chocolate Syrup. In my neighborhood, there were some partisans who used Bosco as the syrup base. I have never tried it with that.
Sadly, egg creams are becoming a nostalgic entity. Back in my youth, there were neighborhood soda fountains all over, and each served egg creams. Today, they are harder to find. My favorite New York egg cream these days comes from Eisenberg’s Sandwich Shop, a diner that has been on 5th Avenue and 22nd street since 1929.
At home, I still make my own egg creams. And I still use the traditional small Coca-Cola glass for it. There are many variations to making a genuine New York egg cream, as you will see below. But in all cases it is imperative that you use a long spoon to mix the chocolate and the milk in order to get a foamy white head.
Here’s a traditional recipe. Oh, yes, very important, the classic egg cream should be drunk straight from the glass. I find that I lose something if I drink it through a straw; I just don’t get the taste of the foamy cream.
TRADITIONAL EGG CREAM
1/2 cup cold milk
1 cup bottled seltzer or club soda
2 tablespoons chocolate syrup (or more to taste)
Pour the milk in the bottom of a soda glass. Then drop the chocolate down the side of the glass and gently mix it with the milk, using a long-handled spoon. Now pour the seltzer down the center of the glass and stir with the spoon to generate a thick white foamy head. Some variations argue that you should stir the mixture only after everything has been added, being careful not to disturb the foam. And some say, first add some milk, then the syrup, then more milk and the seltzer. And still others claim that it tastes better using whipped cream instead of milk. You are free to experiment to see which one suits your palate.
Those of us from a Caribbean heritage have a thing about coconuts. We drink the coconut milk, snack on coconut meat, mix it in our rum drinks, and use it in our cooking, mainly in our desserts. And the prime dessert dish of all is tembleque, or coconut custard. It’s rich, it’s creamy, it’s a delight. And a hell of a bother to cook. It’s the only recipe (apart from pasteles) in my tome, Puerto Rican Cuisine in America (Perseus Book Group), that takes time to prepare. But, believe it, my friends, it’s worth it.
First of all, to do the thing right, you need fresh, ripe coconuts. These can be acquired in any Caribbean, Asian or Indian market. You need to drain them, grate the coconut meat, cook it and strain it. Agreed. It’s time consuming. But it’s a hell of a lot better than the pre-packaged tembleque mix in stores, and much healthier. It doesn’t have all the preservatives or chemicals in it.
If you still don’t want to invest the time, you can shortcut by using canned coconut milk, which is readily available in most supermarkets. Omit the coconut part and use with the rest of the ingredients noted in the recipe given below. But, for the genuine taste of pure, luscious tembleque, nothing beats the original.
TEMBLEQUE (COCONUT CUSTARD)
2 large ripe coconuts
1/2 cup cornstarch
2/3 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Ground nutmeg
Ground cinnamon
1. Pierce coconut (a big nail is best) and drain liquid into a small bowl. Reserve.
2. Split coconuts and remove white meat from shell. Separate the brown skin from coconut meat.
3. Break the coconut meat into pieces, rinse under cold water and grate finely.
4. Place grated coconut in a bowl. Add enough water to reserve coconut liquid so that it measures 3 1/2 cups. Bring liquid to a boil and add grated coconut.
5. Drain coconut in a colander or strainer, pressing with the hands to extract coconut milk into a bowl.
6. Heat one cup water. Add same coconut shreds as before and strain again into the same bowl that holds the coconut milk. Discard shreds.
7. In a large pot or saucepan, combine cornstarch, sugar, salt and vanilla. Stir in coconut milk, a little bit at a time and blend well.
8. Cook on moderate heat, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon until mixture thickens.
9. Reduce heat to low and stir until mixture boils.
10. Remove from heat and pour into 8 slightly wet, individual molds or a large round pan or mold.
11. Let cool and invert into molds, serving dish or platter. Sprinkle with nutmeg and cinnamon and serve.
Yield: 8 servings.
Last month I was one of the participants at the Ocean County Library Bookfest in Toms River, N.J., which featured gourmands and foodies extolling the virtues of our diverse culinary culture. At the event I was fortunate to meet a lovely couple, Ruben Castillo and Pattie Hernandez. Ms. Hernandez, like myself, is of Puerto Rican heritage. Mr. Castillo is Peruvian. And, among other things, I inquired as to Peruvian cooking, of which I know absolutely nothing—until Ruben set me straight on the art of Peruvian cuisine.
The cooking of Peru is becoming more known and renowned in this country. One of the things that fascinates me about this cuisine is its Japanese influence. Yes, Japanese. During the 19th and early 20th century many Japanese came to Peru. Just like the Chinese who migrated to this country to work in the railroads, the same thing occurred in Peru. One of Peru’s former Presidents, Alberto Fujimori, was of Japanese descent. And as happened in America, they left an imprint on Peruvian cooking.
As in other cuisines, there are traditional Peruvian classics such as cuy (roasted guinea pig), tiraditos (sashimi style ceviches comprised of marinated fish and seafood), and anticuchos (marinated beef-heart skewers). Haute Peruvian fare even has a name: novoandina (roughly, new Andean cooking).
Up to this point, the only thing I was familiar with in terms Peru, was its national drink, pisco, which I enjoy. Let me add that Ruben, who is a pretty good cook in his own right (as noted in the recipe given below) is also a performer. He has an outlet, The King Am I Productions, where you can get further information as to upcoming performance dates and venues (info@tkaiproductions.com).
Here is his recipe: Lomo Saltado—one of the best known and tasty traditional Peruvian dishes.
LOMO SALTADO
1 1/4 cups vegetable oil
2 1/4 pounds beef tenderloin, sliced into thin strips
3 red onions, peeled and cut into eight pieces
4 fresh yellow chili pepper (aji amarillo fresco), sliced into thin strips
4 medium tomatoes, cut into eights
2 tablespoons fresh chopped parsley
Salt and ground black pepper to taste
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
2 1/4 pounds potatoes, cut like French fries
Cooked rice (about 6-8 cups)
1. Heat 1/2 cup oil in a large skillet over high heat. Add beef and quickly saute until beef is seared and browned on all sides.
2. Remove beef from pan and transfer to a plate. Cover and set aside.
3. Return pan to medium-high heat and add 1 1/2 tablespoons oil. Add onions and saute until edges are seared and they begin to soften (about 2 minutes).
4. Add aji marillo, tomatoes, parsley, salt, pepper, soy sauce and vinegar. Saute until tomatoes have softened (about 2 minutes).
5. Add beef and toss gently. Note: if you want to add a kick, and a special taste, you can pour 1/4 cup pisco over the meat and ignite. Once the flames die down, cover and set aside.
6. Heat 3/4 cup oil in a large non-stick skillet over medium heat. Add potatoes and saute until browned and tender (about 15 minutes). Drain on paper towels.
7. Place cooked rice in the center of a serving dish. Place beef and French fries on each side, and sprinkle with parsley. Note: If you wan to fancify the dish, you can place the rice in a mold and unmold it onto the serving dish and then place the beef and French fries around it.
Yield: 8 servings
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