Oswald Rivera

Author, Warrior, and Teacher

Author: Oswald Rivera (page 81 of 85)

Tembleque – Coconut Supreme

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.

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Peruvian Cuisine has Arrived

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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Martial Arts – Power Forms

Today I’m diverting from the usual wine and dining posts to focus on my beloved martial arts, specifically, Kung-Fu Wu-Su, the system which I have practiced for 35+ years. If you check out the December edition of Inside Kung Fu magazine, you will find among the articles one on a specific form we use in our system. The article features your truly and fellow Master Robert Thomas showing some of the specifics of the form. In this case, Kung Lei Chuang, or the Skill and Power Form.

I know well the controversy about the pros and cons of forms, or what are called “katas” in Karate. For the uninitiated, forms (or katas) are a fixed series of different poses or continuous body positions that include ,many techniques within a system. The beauty of forms is that they enable a practitioner to practice a series of techniques in sequence. They put together the techniques in a certain combination and they strengthen the internal and external body components. The drawbacks with forms is that they are limited to the techniques practice by the master who developed the form.

Some masters, among them Bruce Lee, did away with forms altogether and emphasized teaching techniques only. Where forms were concerned, Bruce Lee termed it as the “Classical Mess.” I do not follow this thinking. I still practice forms, and I practice them diligently. We have twelve basic forms in our system, and we think that’s enough. It’s true, if we exclusively practiced forms we would have no students left in the Chinese Kung-Fu Wu-Su Association Forms are an integral part of our system but not the end-all be-all of the system.
The Skill and Power Form, for instance, is one of our advanced forms. It’s name implies what it is: a sequence of vital movements designed for hard strikes and tough encounters. Unlike most forms or katas, it is not linear. It traverses in four directions, each preceding and following a singular movement. This form is not only good for exercise but it can be used for fighting as well. It’s got two power kicks, but its emphasis is on the hands and turning, shifting (inclusive of one jump kick). To me it is a premier form. One never gets bored practicing it and you learn something anew everytime you do it. If all forms were as interesting and applicable as the Skill and Power Form, the debate about the usefulness of forms (and katas) would have been solved years ago.
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Gourmet Magazine – R.I. P.

After 68 years in publication, Gourmet magazine is calling it quits. The food journal that defined a generation is no more, a victim of the economy and technology. Why leaf through a magazine for recipes when you can get whatever recipe you want with just one key stroke or the click of a mouse? These days you can google everything from preparing a fruit salad to the finer points of whale blubber steak. Thus, Gourmet, as an entity, is no more.

Truth be told, I was never a partisan of Gourmet Magazine. My subscription lapsed years ago and I never renewed it. After a time I found the magazine rather snooty and condescending in its manner. It was food for those who were considered “my betters,” I thought. I found its recipes, for the most part, arcane, tine consuming and complicated. Who wants to spend a weekend cooking up a Black Forrest cake? There were much more venues out there for simplicity and economy.

Still, I’m sure Gourmet Magazine will be missed. Just one more fount on culinary information that is now gone. It seems like a generation is passing. Julia Childs is gone, James Beard is gone and, now, Gourmet. I shall mourn its passing.

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Plantains – Part II

In the my last entry we discussed green, unripe plantains. The famed twice-fried tostones. Now it’s time for the ripe plantains, what we call amarillos, yellows, because as they ripen they acquire a magical yellow color; as they ripen further they get darker, until they become almost black which, at this point, they are inedible. But when they reach that ripe richness, their taste is sweet, since they have natural sugars.

Ripe plantains may be cooked as is, and they are delicious. Some recipes call for caramelizing them with honey or molasses. I find their natural flavor is good enough. Back when I was groping up, we would serve them with eggs, scrambled or sunny side up. Today we serve them with almost any meal when it calls for something sweet. They are not a dessert, although some people serve them as such. They are part of a whole meal, and are good anytime.
Inclusive of all of this, we give two recipes for cooking the amarillos. One way is to boil them; and the second method is to fry them. Take your pick.

PLATANOS AMARILLOS (SWEET RIPE PLANTAINS)

Method I:
3 ripe plantains

1. Take 3 ripe plantains and cut in half crosswise at a slant.
2. Boil in water (combined with 1 tablespoon salt) until tender (about 4-5 minutes).
3. Drain and let cool. Cut a slit along the length of the halves and peel. Cut into diagonal slices 1 to 2 inches thick and serve.
Yield: 12 t0 15 slices.

Method II:
3 ripe plantains
Vegetable oil for frying.

1. Peel 3 ripe plantains. Cut into diagonal slices about 1/2-inch thick and 3 inches long.
2. Deep-fry in hot oil until slightly browned and tender (about 3-4 minutes). Drain on paper towels.
Yield: 12-18 pieces.


Plantains – Part I

Plantains are an integral part of my culture. We boil them, we fry them, we add them in casserole dishes; we eat them as appetizers or with the main meal. They are ubiquitous in the Caribbean. Almost every island has a claim to them. To those if us who are not familiar with plantains (platanos), think of them as bananas on steroids. And in Puerto Rican cuisine there are two categories that we enjoy.

The first category are green, unripe plantains. These we serve as tostones, or fried green plantains. And that is what we will discuss today.

Green plantains, these days, can be found almost anywhere. My wife and I summer in Vermont. And even in Vermont we can find plantains. In the regular world, any Caribbean or Asian market will carry them. In the northeast, they are found in almost any supermarket.

I prefer tostones to their close cousin, the amarillos, the ripe plantains. Some folks prefer the ripe ones. It’s all a matter of taste. They are both equally delicious.

In the recipe included below the plantains are fried twice. In other parts of the Caribbean, notably Jamaica, the plantains are deep-fried just once. They are not pounded and re-fried. For those who follow our method, the unbroken skin of the plantain is used for flattening the tostones. Otherwise, you can acquire what is called a tostonera in any Latin market. This consists of two pieces of wood or plastic that hinge over to enclose the plantains slices. Here, again, I defer to tradition. Nothing beats the plantain peels and the flat of the hand for pressing the tostones.

The recipe is from my first cookbook, Puerto Rican Cuisine in America (Perseus Book Group).

TOSTONES (FRIED GREEN PLANTAINS)
3 green plantains
4 cups water
2 tablespoons salt
Vegetable oil for frying

1. To remove the skin from the plantain, cut tips at both ends, cut a slit along the length of the plantain and peel off. To facilitate easier handling, some cooks dip plantains in hot water for 5 minutes and then remove the skin. Once plantains are peeled, cut into diagonal slices about 1-inch thick. Reserve peels.
2. Combine water and salt in a bowl and soak plantain slices for 30 minutes. Drain well.
3. Fill a cast-iron or heavy bottomed skillet halfway with vegetable oil. Heat oil until very hot (about 375 degrees). Deep fry plantains for 5 to 7 minutes.
4. Remove with slotted spoon and drain on paper towels.
5. Place a plantain slice between two plantain peels, envelope fashion, and pound flat with the palm of the hand. Repeat until all slices are pressed. Return plantains to the skillet and cook until golden grown (about 5 minutes longer). Drain on absorbent paper towels and sprinkle lightly with salt.
Yield: 12 to 18 tostones.

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Mac ‘n Cheese Rules

My wife and I spend the summers in Vermont. And, if there is something Vermonters love, it’s comfort food. You know, things like meat loaf, mashed potatoes, fried chicken, all that good stuff. So, you could say they were ahead of the curve, culinary-wise. For the longest time the prevailing winds were for intricate, arcane complex dishes. But it seems we’ve gone back to the foods of our youth and heritage, not fancy Frenchy-fied extravaganzas, but good ole down home cookin’. Even major restaurants are promoting “Comfort foods.” Maybe it’s a sign of the recession, I don’t know. But I do know one thing: one of the best comfort treats in the world is good old macaroni and cheese. The American classic. It’s a universal dish, favored by both picky kiddie eaters and their adult parents.

So, in honor of this lowly, working class marvel, below is what we consider the best macaroni and cheese we’ve ever tasted. Yes, that’s great praise indeed. It is the creation of Mrs. Sandra Gutzmann, of Crafstbury, Vermont, and who dishes out this gem at the Crafstbury Country Store. If you are ever in Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom , you must make a stop at the Country Store and order Sandy’s mac n’ cheese. It’s great take-out; you can munch it on a drive, or, as we do, take it home and feast.

Sandy was kind enough to give me her great recipe, and here it is.

SANDY GUTZMANN’S FAMOUS MACARONI AND CHEESE

1 pound macaroni
1 quart milk (either whole milk or 2 % milkfat)
1 pound sharp cheddar cheese, cubed
1/4 pound provolone, cubed
1/4 pound Swiss cheese, cubed
1 small onion, grated real fine
2 tablespoons flour mixed in 1/4 cup water (for thickener)
8 ounces of cream cheese
Salt and ground black pepper to taste
1 sleeve Ritz crackers, crumbled

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Cook macaroni in boiling salted water as per package instructions.
3. While macaroni is cooking, put milk in a medium saucepan and heat to a slow boil.
4. Add cheddar, provolone, Swiss cheese, and onion. Stir to mix. Once cheese is melted, add flour thickener and cream cheese. Stir till it’s all blended together, and add salt and pepper.
5. When macaroni is done, drain and place in a 9 x 13-inch baking pan (it can be a glass baking dish or other—I prefer using a large cast-iron skillet). Pour cheese sauce over macaroni; and sprinkle Ritz crackers over it.
6. Bake for 1/2 hour to 45 minutes, or until cheese starts to bubble and the sides and edges turn brown.
Yield: 8 servings.

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Fish and Mustard—A Great Combo!

A couple of blogs ago I did something on Quick Meat Patties in a Mustard Sauce. That started me to thinking, Why can’t I do the same thing with fish? This all came about when I decided to roast a whole fish I had acquired in Chinatown. I had been looking forward to this meal. I hadn’t cooked a whole fish in quite a while. But, necessity being the mother of invention, I checked my fridge and noticed I had some mustard and cream. So, why not combine the two and make what the French would call a moutard sauce?

It was a simple process: score the fish with a few cut marks, season, pour the mustard-cream sauce over it, and bake. Easy, quick, and nutritious. For an accompaniment we had baked scallion potatoes. Also an easy process: cut the potatoes in 1-inch chunks, drizzle with butter and bake along with the fish. At the finish, sprinkle with chopped scallions or parsley.

When baking the fish, I suggest any white firm-fleshed fish. Blue Fish may be too oily, and a whole salmon may be too cost prohibitive. The recipe also works well with fish fillets and fish steaks; although cooking time may vary depending upon thickness of fillets or steaks.

WHOLE FISH IN MUSTARD-CREAM SAUCE

1 whole fish (about 2-2 1/2 pounds), gutted, scaled, clean, with with head
and tail intact.
Salt and ground black pepper to taste
1/2 cup mustard ( Any good mustard will do—from Grey Poupon to
Gulden’s)
4 tablespoons heavy whipping cream (preferably organic)

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
2. Wash fish under cold running water and clean with paper towels. Then score fish on each side with three to four knife cuts across the body.
3. Season with salt and pepper.
4. In a small bowl, combine the mustard and heavy cream.
5. Place fish in a greased baking dish; and spread the mustard- cream
sauce over it.
6. Bake for 45 minutes or until skin flakes easily with a knife or fork.
Yield: 4 servings.

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Tarru-Bird Stew – The Oldest Recipe in the World


When I was researching my second cookbook, The Pharaoh’s Feast (Avalon Books), part of the deal was that I had to research ancient recipes. The Pharaoh’s Feast deals with the history of cooking throughout the ages, from day one to the present. I came across some really great gems, inclusive of the recipe noted below. It comes from three Akhadian clay table from the Yale Babylonian Collection. The tablets are a collection of recipes from the old Babylonian Empire, circa 1700 B.C.E. They are not a cookbook. They are more of a culinary record written for administrative purposes so that the recipes could be codified for the benefit of those who would enjoy them—the big whigs in the hierarchy. They show that ancient Mesopotamia had a vibrant and sophisticated cuisine for its time.

Tarru can translated to mean fowl. Thus this recipe could have been made with wild pigeons, quail or partridge—any small bird. For modern usage I recommend Cornish game hens or poussin (young chickens). The recipe is arcane, but using common sense, one can come up with something worthwhile. It’s your basic stew; and it goes well with boiled potatoes or steamed rice.
Some words inscribed in the tablets have yet to be translated, such as samidu. The recipe contains onions, garlic, leek, milk and samidu (whatever the hell that is). It also calls for a broth made of mutton. I figure you could use any rich meat or beef broth. Also, one of the ingredients given is”hulled cake of malt.” I’ve substituted malted milk powder—and it works.
So, make believe you’re in Ancient Babylon, you just got home from a hard day in the fields, or from haggling in the marketplace over some horse or camel, and the Tarru-Bird Stew is just waiting for you.
TARRU-BIRD STEW
2 Cornish game hens or poussin
1 small onion, peeled and finely chopped
1 whole leek, rinsed and finely chopped (green part only)
2 cloves garlic
4 tablespoons milk
4 cups beef broth or bouillon
1 tablespoon shortening or 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
Salt to taste
2 teaspoons malted milk powder
1. Rinse the Cornish hens under cold running water and pat dry with paper towels. Split hens in half.
2. Put the onion, leek, and garlic into a mortar and pound until everything is crushed together. If you don’t have a mortar and pestle, you can place the ingredients in a heavy bowl or saucepan and crush with a potato masher or the back of a spatula or large spoon. Add the milk, and mix. Do not cheat by emulsifying in a food processor—it will come out too watery.
3. Place the Cornish hens in a large pot, casserole, or Dutch oven. Add the beef broth, shortening, salt, and malted milk powder. bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Lower the heat and simmer, covered, for ten minutes.
4. Add the onion mixture. Cover and continue simmering until the hens are tender (10 to 15 minutes).
5. Place the hens on a serving platter as is. Or you can carve them into small pieces, if desired, with the broth served over them.
Yield: 4 servings

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Steamed Sea Bass – A Classic

There are some Chinese dishes that stand the test of time. One of these is Steamed Sea Bass, Cantonese Style. I came across this gem because of a dear, departed friend, Eddie Hor. Eddie was one of those characters who was bigger than life. He was gracious, generous, sophisticated, and a consummate ladies man. I imagine that one of the reasons for his success with women was that, apart from being a great listener and empathetic, he was also a great cook—the best of all combinations. I met Eddie when I was a young man back from Vietnam. At the time all I wanted to do was put the war behind me, mainly by partying and trying to score with the opposite sex. I learned a lot from Eddie, about life, responsibility, and what it means to be a man. I cherished his friendship.

I also learned from Eddie how to prepare the sea bass dish that follows. Steamed sea bass is normally cooked in a wok with a rack for steaming. You can also use a regular metal steamer, Chinese bamboo steamer or even a Western-style clam steamer.

Eddie once told me that cooking is like a seduction: go easy, take your time, just let it happen. The same with this dish. The steaming process will take 10 to 15 minutes, depending on the size of the fish. A neat way to ascertain if its done is to check the fish and, if its eyes have popped out during the steaming process, it’s done. Another added trick is to put hot olive oil over the steamed fish. This will sear the skin with the flavor of the oil. If you want to impress your friends, do this at the table. And finally, if you can’t find sea bass, striped bass will do just as well.

STEAMED SEA BASS A LA EDDIE HOR

1/4 brandy or bourbon whisky
3 cloves garlic, finely minced
4 tablespoons chopped scallions, including greens
2 tablespoons finely minced fresh ginger
3 tablespoons soy sauce (preferably Tamari)
1 whole sea bass (1 1/2-2 pounds), cleaned, scaled, gutted, but with head and tail intact
1/4 olive oil

1. In a small bowl, combine the brandy, garlic, scallions ginger and soy sauce. Set aside.
2. Rinse the fish inside and out under cold running water. Pat dry with paper towels. Slash fish crosswise three time on each side.
3. Place the fish on a platter, and place the platter on top of the steamer. Pour sauce over the fish. Bring water to a boil, cover and steam 10 to 15 minutes.
4. Check fish for doneness. When cooked, the flesh will be white and the eyes will have popped out.
5. Heat the olive oil quickly until its hot in a small saucepan. Then pour the boiling oil over the fish, searing the skin. Serve immediately
Yield: 4 servings

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