Yes, the title is correct: cooking rice. What is fascinating about rice is that there are so may varieties, over 7,000 in fact. I was weaned on the traditional long grain variety. But there’s Arborio (short grain, used in Italian cooking); Basmati (Indian); Jasmine (South Asian); wild rice (which is not a true rice but a water grass; brown rice (unprocessed), round grain; ad infinitum. And there are as many ways to make a basic rice dish as there are cooks on the planet.

Still, some people have difficulty making perfect steamed rice. And I don’t mean the starchy Chinese or Japanese type which is held together in clumps so that it’s easier for the chopsticks. I’m talking about perfectly cooked grains that (as my Uncle Phillip used to say) you can count individually. So for all you folks out there who have always had this problem (and there many of you out there), I have three tried-and-true methods which will get you as good a result as you can get. All you gotta do is experiment.

All three recipes are from my cookbook, Puerto Rican Cuisine in America (Avalon Books).

Recipe I (My mother’s method):

1 cup rice

2 cups water

2 teaspoons salt

3 tablespoons olive oil

1. Wash rice at least three times in cold water and drain to rid of starch. What in Pennsylvania Dutch country is known as “washing in several waters.”

2. In a heavy kettle or pot, heat water and add the salt.

3. When water is at a roiling boil, add rice. Stir and bring to a second boil.

4. Let it cook, uncovered, at high heat until water is absorbed (about 5-8 minutes).

5. Add olive oil. Stir and simmer, covered, on low heat for 10 minutes more or until tender.

Yield: 2 servings for big eaters; 3 servings for light waters

Recipe II (My Aunt Fanny’s method)

2 cups rice

3 tablespoons olive oil

Water to cover rice

Salt to taste

1. Wash rice and drain to rid of starch.

2. Heat olive oil in a heavy kettle or pot. Add rice and stir until grains are opaque.

3. Add water to cover rice by 1/4 to 1/2 inch. Add salt to taste.

4. Bring to a boil. Cover and simmer, on low heat, until water is absorbed (about 20 minutes).

Yield: 4 servings for big eaters; 6 servings for light eaters.

Recipe III (My Cousin Yvonne’s method):

2 cups rice

4 cups water

2 teaspoons salt

3 tablespoons olive oil

1. Wash rice and drain to rid of starch.

2. Bring water and salt to a roiling boil.

3. Add rice plus olive oil. Stir and bring to a second boil. Cover and simmer on low heat until water is absorbed (20-30 minutes).

4. Uncover and continue cooking for 5 minutes more.

Yield: 4 servings for big eaters; 6 servings for light eaters.

They are numerous avocado varieties out there. My favorite are of the West Indian type, especially the “Butler” which is grown in Puerto Rico. It’s medium large, a glossy green and has a smooth skin. I also like the “Itzamma,” also produced in the island. This one is very large with a rough skin and a very attractive yellow flesh. The most common avocados as of late are the Hass variety (it was first cultivated in California in 1926). They are found almost everywhere. Here, in the wilds of Vermont, where my wife and I spend the summers, that is the only type we can get. I am not a particular fan of this variety. But, it’ll do in a pinch when nothing else is available. It’s akin to the experience I had years ago when I visited a friend in Montana. There were no New York style bagels to be had. We had to eat Lender’s frozen bagels. And, guess what, they weren’t too bad since there was nothing else. One must adjust to the circumstances.

If you’re not too sure about picking out a ripe avocado, simple: press on the skin. If there is a slight indentation, then it’s ripe. Another method (especially with large avocados) is to hold them to your ear and shake them. If you hear the pit moving inside, it’s ripe. Do not select over-ripe avocados—those with a dark purplish almost black skin and that are soft and mushy to the touch.

Below is an avocado-crabmeat salad from my first cookbook, Puerto Rican Cuisine in America. If you can’t find or afford fresh lump crabmeat, canned crabmeat will do. The dish goes great with steamed white rice.

1 pound fresh lump crabmeat

Summertime and the livin’ is easy—barbecues, ball games and BEER. Unfortunately, beer has always been portrayed as the poor man’s drink. A beverage for the masses. Maybe that’s true, and maybe it’s not. But you know what?—beer has a royal, historical pedigree. It just ain’t joe six-pack in front of the boob tube swigging Bud and watching football. Beer is, in fact, the oldest and most widely consumed alcoholic beverage. It is older than wine. It is older than tea, or coffee. Tell that to you high fallutin’ friends the next time they sniff up their noses while drinking Cabernet.

Beer, according to the historical record, was discovered by the ancient Sumerians, and was produced, in quantity, 5,500 years ago in Iran. Sumer (or Sumeria) was an ancient kingdom laying between the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers in what is known as Mesopotamia in the Middle East. It is here that the oldest evidence of beer drinking in found, in a 4,000 year old Sumerian tablet showing people drinking beer through straws (see caption above).

But beer was more than a drink for the great unwashed. It was a “divine nectar” favored by their gods. In the ancient Epic of Gilgamesh, the earliest work of literary fiction which dates from about 2150-2000 B.C.E., the hero of the saga, Gilgamesh, meets a wild man in the forest, Enkidu, who is eventually civilized by eating cooked food and drinking—guess what?—beer. The poem says that he “drank seven pitchers of beer, his heart grew light, and his face glowed and he sang with joy.” Sounds like a beer bash in the local pub or college dorm. And there’s more. The Sumerians had a prayer to the goddess Ninkasi. The prayer, found in 3,900 year old tablets, and known as “The hymn to Ninkasi,” serves both as a prayer and a method of remembering a recipe for beer (and this in a culture with few literate folk). Ponder that one the next time you chug Coors Light.

It could be said that beer was instrumental in our evolution from a primitive to a more advanced society. The Code of Hammurabi (Codex Hammurabi), one of the first set of ancient written laws (from Babylon c. 1790 B.C.E.), included ordinances regulating beer and beer parlors (read that, bars). There is even a theory that beer saved the nascent religion that gave rise to our Judeo-Christian tradition. It puts forth that the manna that God had sent from heaven to save the wondering Israelites after they left Egypt was a bread-based porridge-like beer called wusa. Next time you go for services to the church or synagogue, hit the congregation with that one.

Beer was vital to all ancient grain growing societies. It was the main beverage in ancient Egypt where it was made from barley. The Africans made it from millet, the Chinese used wheat, and the Japanese used rice. It was brewed by the ancient Greeks and Romans, who called it cerevisia, from the Celtic word for it. That’s very similar to the Spanish word for beer, cerveza. It was a common drink during the Middle Ages and popular in the northern and eastern parts of Europe, where it gave rise to another popular legend, that of Gambrinus (1371-1419). Also known as John the Fearless, he is believed to be the inventor of hopped malt beer and the unofficial patron saint of beer. Whether this is true or not, is open to debate. We do know that though beer was made from various grains it wasn’t until the 9th century that hops (flower cones from the hop plant) were added for flavoring and also as a preservative. The method was perfected by the Germans in the 13th century which made for longer lasting beer that could be exported.

Today beer is consumed worldwide, with all kinds of brews, from high end to low end. So, the next time you open up that six-pack, remember that you, too, are partaking of a beverage of the gods.

Included is a recipe, Cabro Boraccho (Drunken Goat), from my first cookbook, Puerto Rican Cusine in America (Avalon Books). The recipe calls for a light lager beer. Dark ales are not recommended. Save that for savoring in the glass. Goat meat can be found in Caribbean or Middle Eastern markets, or you can order it from your local butcher.

CABRO BORRACHO (DRUNKEN GOAT)

3 pounds goat meat, trimmed and cut into 1-inch chunks1/2 cup white vinegar 1/2 cup white vinegar or lemon juice
Salt and ground black pepper to taste
3 cloves garlic, peeled and minced
1 tablespoon dried oregano
1/2 cup olive oil
1 8-ounce can tomato sauce
1 medium onion, peeled and chopped
6 fresh cilantro leaves, chopped
2 bay leaves
2 12-ounce can lager beer
4 medium potatoes, peeled and quartered
6 carrots, peeled and quartered

1. Rinse meat under cold running water and pat dry with paper towels.
2. Sprinkle meat chunks with vinegar or lemon juice. Cover and refrigerate for at least four hours or, better still, overnight.
3. Drain, rinse again in cold water and pat dry with paper towels.
4. Season with salt, pepper, garlic and oregano.
5. Heat oil in a heavy kettle or Dutch oven. Add goat meat and brown evenly on moderate heat (about 4 minutes).
6. Add tomato sauce, onion, cilantro, bay leaves and beer. Stir to combine.
7. Bring to a boil, cover and simmer on low heat for 1 hour or until fork tender.
8. Add potatoes and carrots. Cook another 30 minutes. If the sauce is not thick enough, uncover and cook until sauce thickens. Serve over rice or on its own with crusty bread.
Yield: 4 or more servings.

Image via Wikipedia

For the past few years there’s been an explosion of olive oil use in this country. It wasn’t always so. I recall that as a kid in Spanish Harlem we used olive oil mainly for dressing on salads. That was about the extent of it. My Anglo friends didn’t use it at all. When they did get exposed to it, it was at some Italian restaurant where it was drizzled on greens. Of course that has changed. Today olive oil is ubiquitous. It’s everywhere. So I thought it’d be a good time to revisit this topic.

Olive oil goes back to the mists of time. The ancient Greeks and Romans used it in their diet, so did the Persians and Arabs. It has a long rich history in the Mediterranean. Essentially it’s made the same way today as it was long ago: after the olive tree is harvested, and the olives plucked, they are pressed to extract their oil, usually within 48 hours to preserve their quality and flavor.

In ancient times olive oil was not only used in the kitchen. It also had uses as a medicine for cuts and burns. It was prized as a cosmetic to maintain a youthful glow (that’s because olive oil contains something called hydroxytyrosol, an antioxidant, which can actually slow the aging process in the skin). It was even used as an ointment for dead people. Figure that one out. In the ancient Olympic games it was given as an award for victorious athletes. Imagine A-Rod of the Yankees getting paid with 10 million casks of olive oil.

What’s good about olive oil, then as now, are its health benefits. Unlike butter or margerine it doesn’t promote heart disease. It assists in regulating cholesterol. It is 77% mono saturated fat, the “good fat” that maintains good HDL cholesterol levels—as opposed to the bad cholesterol, LDH. In fact, if you want to maintain a healthy diet, instead of slapping wads of butter on your bread, do like they do it in Italy and Spain and sprinkle a little olive oil on the bread. It’s unique flavor gives the bread just the right balance. And remember that in Mediterranean countries where olive oil consumption is high, they has less incidence of cardiovascular problems.

Olive oil can be used for cooking, baking, marinades, grilling, sauteing and stir-frying. There are different types, of course. The most popular these days is extra virgin olive oil. This comes from “cold pressing” of the olives. That means that no heat is used in the production so that the flavor matures naturally. It is beloved by connoisseurs. Then there’s regular (or heavy) olive oil, which is a combination of refined and extra virgin or virgin olive oil. Being the Philistine that I am, I prefer the regular or heavy olive oil. Perhaps because that’s all we had in Spanish Harlem, usually the Goya brand. To my palette it has a fuller flavor than the extra virgin. Next comes “light” or “mild” olive oil for the weight-conscious among us. It’s basically a refined olive oil that has a lighter flavor and color than the regular type. However, here’s a secret for all you weight conscious individuals: light or mild olive oil has the same caloric and fat content as all other oils (120 calories or 14 grams of fat per tablespoon). And then there is olive pomace oil which is used in the foodservice industry. This oil is extracted from the pomace, or the remaining portion of the olives after pressing. Most likely you won’t find this one on your grocers’ shelf.

There’s an olive oil out there for all your uses. So instead of just splashing it on your salad, go and experiment. It’s distinctive taste and aroma enhances any meal.

Below is a quick, easy recipe using, you guessed it—olive oil. It comes from my first cookbook, Puerto Rican Cuisine in America (Avalon Books) where olive oil is prominent in most of the recipes.

POLLO AL HORNO

(ROAST CHICKEN)

2 broiler fryers, about 3 pounds each, split in half

1/2 cup olive oil

Salt and ground black pepper to taste

1 teaspoon dried oregano

1/2 teaspoon dried tarragon

2 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed

1. Wash chicken halves and pat dry with paper towels. Place in a large bowl.

2. In a small bowl or cup, mix the olive oil, salt and pepper, oregano, tarragon and crushed garlic. Pour over the chicken, rubbing the seasoning thoroughly into the skin. Cover and let stand 15 minutes or, better still, refrigerate overnight.

3. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Remove chicken halves from marinade and place in a shallow roasting pan, skin side up. Bake for 30-40 minutes or until golden brown and the juices are no longer pink.

Yield: 4 to 6 servings.

Waiting in a bus stop on the Upper East Side, I noticed an advertisement for an outdoor electric grill that’s touted as “the grill for the city.” That set me to thinking: here we are once again on the verge of the barbecue grilling season. Officially it comes with the Memorial Day holiday. That’s when it all starts again as the harbinger of summer.

In my travels throughout the planet I’ve never encountered anything comparable to our tradition of barbecue. A Japanese hibachi is not a barbecue. The grilled lamb served in Middle Eastern restaurants is not barbecue. No, this is a uniquely American endeavor; and it’s a guy thing. Men who wouldn’t know how to boil water will, once the days get warm, bring out the backyard grill, don the apron and the gloves, grab the tongs, spatula and steak fork, and begin their barbecue ritual. You will seldom see women doing this (I never have); it’s always the guys.

The concept of the barbecue comes from the Caribbean. In the northern part of the island of Hispaniola, the cannibalistic Carib Indians were reputed to have cooked meat over a green wood frame bult over a fire of animal bones and hides. Whether it was human meat or other that they cooked, is open to question. They called the process boucan. From about 1610 onward the Spaniards began cooking the pigs and cattle they had brought to the island in the same manner. They called the greenwood frame a barbacoa. Today we know this as barbecue—without the Caribs natural flavorings, or course.

Today barbecue grilling in the U.S. is enjoyed by every class and every race—but it’s still a male dominated cooking thing. That, as Tevye would say in Fiddler on the Roof, is tradition!

In my second cookbook, The Pharaoh’s Feast (Aavalon Books), I comment on the phenomenon of the suburbs and backyard grilling. And the fifties are identified with it. That’s when the suburbs mushroomed and scorching labs of meat outdoors became the norm. Below is a recipe fetaured in that tome and it comes from The Complete Book of Outdoor Cookery (1956). The recipe gives you an idea of what barbecuing 1950s style was all about.

For 4 persons you should have 2 pounds of ground beef chuck, top round or top sirloin. Form the meat, being certain that you can handle it lightly, into a large cake about 2 to 3 inches thick. Salt and pepper it well, and place in a long-handled grill or small gridiron over the coals. Broil it quickly, really just sear it well on each side, and get it crusty on the outside and soft and rare in the center. Remove to a hot platter, cut it in wedges, and serve. It is good with roasted corn and slices of raw onion which have been vinegared and salted and allowed to marinate for an hour or two.