After all the intense summer heat of the past week, now that it’s finally cooler I have been craving Mexican comfort food. I wanted enfrijoladas, those rich, creamy bean and cheese bits of yummy that melt in your mouth. An enfriolada is something like an enchilada only a bean sauce is used instead of the red or green chile sauce. They can be made with either corn or flour tortillas, but I use flour because they make the dish extra soft and velvety. Enfrijoladas are not only great comfort food, they are very economical. Typically served with enfrijoladas are what we call Chiles Toreados which could mean either toasted chiles or bullfighter style chiles depending on who you’re talking to. Jorge Carbajosa over at Spanish Lesson has a good post on the word here. I use chiles jalapeños and thick slices of onion in mine. Some people use Salsa Maggi for flavoring but I like Knorr Suissa. The chiles are sliced into four pieces, toasted in oil along with the onions and then served over the enfrijoladas. My kids would kill me if I dared to take out the seeds since they like it hot and the whole point of toasting the chiles in such a manner is to make them hotter or mas bravos (like a bullfighter) but if you want them milder, go ahead and devein and seed them. The toasted chile flavor will still be fantastic and you’ll still get a bit of spice.
I had a pot of frijoles de la olla all ready, so I set about making my enfrijoladas and showed my roommate David how it was done. The local market was out of panela cheese which is what I typically use, so I ended up using a mixture of Monterey Jack and Queso Fresco. The dish is nothing if not versatile.
We sat down to watch Iron Chef America and have our dinner with the dog doing his typical sad-eyed gaze at us. He knows better than to beg and always gets a treat so what he did next shocked us all. Ozzy leapt and snatched, literally snatched a jalapeno off of David’s plate, gulped it down and ran.
Chiles toreados
It happened so fast we were stunned. Really? Did he just eat a chile? Then he came back and his little tongue was just rapidly licking his lip and I felt so sorry for him, I grabbed some cold queso fresco and fed it to him hoping it would calm the burn. This is where it gets really wacky. The little monster ran away from me and David, who was now pouring him milk and attacked Phillip’s plate stealing three more chile slices in the process. We put away our dinner dishes, kept the jalapenos high and away from him but he was still whining and trying to jump up on countertops after them!
El perro enchilado
My dog is a schnauzer mix and who knows what the heck the other part of him is but we’re certain it’s something Mexican and crazy. We kept trying to feed him milk but Ozzy was almost high from the chili rush and I literally had to hold him down and pour it into him. He was going nuts. I Googled hoping it wasn’t toxic and there wouldn’t be a vet visit in our near future. I kept feeding him cheese till he seemed to calm down, then I put him in bed. He slept quietly all night and woke up just fine but he scared the heck out of us. From now on, Chiles Toreados will be renamed in this house – Perro Enchilados (hot dogs) in his honor. Still shaking our heads over this loco dog who was sniffing at jalapenos this morning but didn’t have a chance to get to them.
Enfrijoladas
1 dozen flour tortillas
Cooked Beans
Milk
Oil for frying
Queso Panela (or Monterey Jack)
One onion, diced
Queso fresco
This recipe doesn’t really call for measurements, but I’ll try and estimate it out. In a large skillet, add about 1 tablespoon of oil and heat. Add in about 4 cups of frijoles de la olla and about a 1/4 to 1/2 cup of milk. Using a potato masher, mash the beans until smooth. Don’t use the masher until the beans are really hot or it won’t be so easy.
Remove from the heat and let cool.
Add to a blender once it’s cool enough and blend until perfectly smooth. Pour back into the skillet and re-heat.
Grate about a pound of cheese, either panela or Monterey Jack and dice the onion finely. Mix the grated cheese and onion together and put into a plate or bowl.
In another skillet heat up enough vegetable or canola oil to dip tortillas in. Using a set of tongs, quickly dip each flour tortilla (or corn if you prefer) into the oil, flipping over to get both sides. You don’t want them to fry to much. Literally about 30 seconds on each.
Once your tortillas are fried, using the tongs quickly dip them in the bean sauce. Try to do this quickly so your tortillas don’t fall apart. Corn tortillas hold up better, but flour ones are my favorite.
One tortilla at a time, place in baking dish, fill with the cheese mixture and roll. I use the tongs because they are usually too hot and delicate for me to adequately do with my hands.
Once all the tortillas are filled and rolled, spoon more bean mixture on top and pop into a hot 350 degree oven for about ten minutes. Just long enough for the cheese to fully melt.
To serve, sprinkle with crumbled queso fresco and top with chiles toreados. We usually have ours with Mexican rice or a salad but they are a filling and delicious meal all on their own.
Chiles Toreados
About 6-10 fresh jalapenos
Oil for frying
Tablespoon Knorr Suissa or Salsa Maggi
1 onion, halved and thickly sliced (optional)
Wash the jalapenos and cut off the ends. Slice down the middle and then again to get four long strips. In a cast iron or other heavy skillet, add just enough oil to coat the pan and heat on medium flame.
Once the oil is hot, add the chiles and onion slices. The oil will pop so be careful. Fry the chiles on both sides until just toasted, not letting them get too dark, then remove the chiles, lower the flame and continue to let the onions cook until well caramelized.
Throw the chiles back in and stir in the Knorr Suissa. Remove from heat and serve over the enfrijoladas.
Try not to have a crazy, jalapeno eating dog around.
Tags: bravos, bullfighter, chile sauce, chiles toreados, chilis, comfort food, crazy things dogs do, enchilada, enfrijoladas, flour tortillas, gaze, intense summer heat, iron chef america, local market, maggi, monterey jack, onion, onions, ozzy, roommate, spanish lesson, spice, thick slices
It’s 12:45 a.m after one of the hottest days of summer. It was 105 degrees!
The grandkids who are visiting for this week can’t sleep, house is too hot and my a/c wall unit is icing over. What to do, what to do? In the fridge was a massive bowl of the past two days harvest of figs from our tree just begging me to do something with but it’s been too darned hot. I took an almost midnight shower and came out to two small children that were hot, grumpy, tired and in need of something, anything to do to get them to relax enough to sleep. I went to the fridge, saw that big bowl of figs and remembered the jam I had been intending to make. “Who wants to have a midnight jam session?” I asked the kids. “We do!”
I had had an idea in mind on how to make my jam, an older recipe that called for cinnamon, lemon rind, fresh figs and sugar but whenever the kids help me cook, things change. I really like letting them improvise and find their way around my kitchen. We discuss flavors and ideas all the time. They’ve been cooking with me since before I started Dona Lupe’s so I’ve learned to trust them the way they trust in me.
Insomniac grandkids
Aiden took charge of this jam session. He just turned five on Friday the 20th and was in a very assertive mood. He handed me a bottle of caraway seed and said, “Grammy use this, it almost smells like figs.” Into the simmering cinnamon and water it went. What the heck, how bad could it be? I searched for lemons but we were out and being midnight by now, we were out of luck with a store. David suggested the rice vinegar in the pantry for a little acidity and it made sense to me so I added it. This was so not the jam I had planned on but as we all took turns chopping figs and adding them to the pot, the kitchen was starting to smell amazing.
Chop, chop, chop
Once the figs were all in the pot, Aiden handed me a jar. Surprised, I looked down at a square box of chili powder from the Indian store I frequent in Los Feliz. “Put some of that in Grammy” he said seriously. I nodded and added about two tablespoons, stirred it in with crossed fingers and tasted. Oh. My. God. That was some amazing jam! Things happen in midnight jam sessions, things you’d never expect but surprisingly sweet and good.
Jam!
We’re going on 1:00 a.m. now and the kids are drifting off to sleep while Aiden’s Midnight Fig Jam is slowly simmering on the stove. When he wakes tomorrow there will be toast smeared with his jam and the day, however hot it turns out to be will keep that spicy sweetness.
Aiden’s Midnight Fig Jam
5 lbs of fresh figs, washed, trimmed and chopped roughly
3 c. Sugar
1 cinnamon stick
3 c. of water
Pinch caraway seeds
4 tablespoons of rice vinegar
2 tablespoons of dark red chili powder
Set a large pot with the water and cinnamon stick to boil, then bring to a slow simmer.
Trim off the points and ends of the figs and rough chop them. Add the caraway seeds to the simmering cinnamon water, the sugar and rice vinegar. Stir until well blended.
Add the chopped figs, the chili powder and stir slowly. Let simmer for two hours till well thickened, stirring frequently so the sugar doesn’t burn and stick to the bottom of your pot.
Remove the cinnamon stick, let cool and store in Mason jars using proper canning techniques.
Best cooked at midnight to the strains of Luciano Pavaroti (you know we had to listen to Figaro), Lauryn Hill and Trio Los Panchos. Insomniac grandchildren optional.
Tags: acidity, aiden, captio, caraway seed, cooking, dona lupe, Figs, flavors, food, fresh figs, fridge, grandkids, grankids, heat, hottest days, insomniac, jam session, jams, lemon rind, lemons, midnight jam, midnight shower, music, pantry, preserves, rice vinegar, summer, wall unit
My oldest son Albert is a fiend for my fried chicken. He’s probably gonna scream and holler on the phone at me, but I call him Nano. I never call him Albert even though he’s trained the rest of the family to do so. He was a tiny preemie baby, nothing like the huge beast he is now and we called him Nanito, the nickname his father’s family dubbed him with the day he was born because he was so tiny. The name stuck, he’s been Nano or Nanito ever since and he HATES it. I can’t help it though, he’s still my baby boy that I’d do just about anything for.
Growing up, he was always asking me for fried chicken, coleslaw and mashed potatoes or my hamburgers. When he moved to San Diego where he was stationed in the Navy, he’d occasionally show up with a pack of big Navy guys all ravenously hungry, hand me some money and ask me to make my fried chicken for his friends. I never said no. When he married, he asked me to teach his new wife how to make it and that didn’t go over so well, so he just had me make piles of it and he and his brother ate it all in one day.
Nano is a big old beast now - I'm sure it's partly because of the chicken
With all the health problems I’ve had over the past year and a half, I’m not eating much in the way of fried foods. I’d mostly given it up before getting ill, but a serious illness then a gall bladder removal really have me vigilant about what I eat and how I prepare it. Fried chicken hasn’t been on my menu in a couple of years.
I had planned on doing a chicken salad today with the fresh chicken my roommate David brought home but he asked if I wouldn’t mind changing the menu to fried chicken. I considered and figured I might as well do him a favor and make it. Once in a great while is okay, right? Yeah I talked myself into it and he totally twisted my arm. I’m laughing at myself as I write this.
I don’t know how other people make fried chicken. The only kind I had when I was growing up was Kentucky Fried or the Mexican Pollo Frito en Salsa de Cacahuate that I make on occasion. It wasn’t until I married that I attempted it. The recipes I tried, I didn’t really like so I fiddled with stuff and came up with my own way. It’s simple, tasty and the batter is light and crunchy. Best of all, my boy loves it. It was a hit tonight too.
Nano’s Fried Chicken
1 large chicken, cut into pieces, trimmed, washed and patted dry
Olive oil
2 cups of flour, plus 1 cup
1 tbsp paprika
2 tbsp Knorr Suissa
Salt and pepper to taste
Dash allspice
3 eggs
2 tbsp buttermilk
In a medium sized bowl, mix together two cups of sifted flour with the paprika, Knorr Suissa, allspice salt and pepper, making sure its well blended. In another bowl beat the eggs with the buttermilk and in the third bowl add the plain flour.
In a large cast iron skillet add enough olive oil to fry the chicken in. I typically fill the pan halfway. Heat on medium flame.
Salt the chicken lightly and then dredge first in the plain flour, next the egg mixture coating the chicken completely and finally the seasoned flour.
Carefully add in the chicken one piece at a time into the hot oil. Fry for about 15 minutes on each side till golden brown on medium, then lower the flame and let the chicken cook another 10-15 minutes to ensure it’s cooked through.
Remove the chicken and drain on paper towels or brown paper.
That’s it! Simple but it takes a little care, watch to make sure the chicken isn’t getting too dark, don’t keep turning it or your crust will fall off and make sure it’s cooked through.
Buen provecho!
Tags: baby boy, beast, chicken, chicken salad, coleslaw, fiend, food, fried chicken, fried foods, gall bladder, gall bladder removal, hamburgers, hasn, health problems, mom, navy, nickname, potatoes, poultry, preemie baby, recipes, roommate, san diego, scream, sons
First Figs
One of my favorite poets is Edna St. Vincent Millay. I think her Renascence is one of the most astounding and brilliant poems ever, her unnamed sonnet that starts off “I must not die of pity, I must live” is my all time favorite, in fact it’s my personal mission statement. I love her poetry and one of my favorite books is A Few Figs from Thistles. I was curled up on the couch reading it when I got to thinking about the fig tree I’ve been nurturing.
The new house is a fixer upper and boy was it a mess. The backyard was literally a jungle of dry weeds and brush along with piled up trash. A week into clearing it, we found a little fig tree nearly buried under the weeds. Fig trees are hardy little things and can withstand a lot. I grew up with them so I knew with a little care, we’d have a bounty of figs. We cleared the area around it, I took a spade and dug up around it and started watering. Shortly thereafter, lots of little green figs started sprouting all over. Happiness!
mmmmmmm figgy goodness
The past few days have been busy and I’ve not had time to stalk the fig tree. Yes I stalk it every day waiting for that first fig, ripe, juicy, like candy in my mouth. So far nothing but green and one bird eaten skin. Reading Millay’s First Fig made me wander over to the backyard, book in hand and wow, the whole tree was bursting with purple ripe figs! Not even stopping to put the book down, I started picking figs. I filled up my shirt that was now doubling as a basket and stuck the book in my pocket.
I Twittered excitedly that the first fresh figs were in and got Tweets back about recipes, all of which I am going to try along with my own but today, for breakfast I just want that first fresh fig. I sliced them in half and had them with my pan y cafe. They were cold from the fridge, bursting with sweetness and absolutely perfect poetry.
Tags: candy, dry weeds, edna st vincent millay, favorite books, few days, fig tree, fig trees, figs from thistles, fresh figs, goodness, happiness, jungle, one bird, personal mission statement, poets, renascence, ripe figs, sonnet, spade, st vincent millay
Lavender & Mint Tea Cakes
Isis is here. Isis Lucia is my son Phillip’s four year old daughter and she lives in San Diego with her mom. I rarely get to see her but last night Phillip brought her over to spend the weekend so we’re pretty excited. What I wasn’t prepared for was the LLANTO. Llanto is Spanish for a whole lotta crying. Isis can cry at the drop of a hat. Phillip is great with her, but boy can she cry.
Don't let this happy face fool you, she can beat Niobe at crying.
This afternoon while we were waiting for Jasmine and Aiden to arrive and hopefully distract Isis from crying she dissolved into tears again. Phillip was pulling out all the stops to get her to quit but nothing was working. So Grammy (me), nursing a bad migraine opened my big mouth and said, “Isis want to make cake?” Instant smile.
Isis surveys her new domain from lofty heights
I scanned my pantry and couldn’t find what I needed to make cake but I did find one Duncan Hines box of white cake mix left behind by an old roommate. Bingo. Isis and I whipped up a boxed cake which I doctored with a little bourbon vanilla and buttermilk. I rummaged in the fridge and found butter as well as a lemon. Yay! Buttercream in the making. I whipped together butter and confectioners sugar with Isis wide eyed and happy wondering what I was doing. I explained about buttercream while adding just a bit of buttermilk to make it extra creamy. I showed her how to zest a lemon and that a little vanilla makes everything taste just a bit better. She helped me squeeze lemon juice and add it to the buttercream, then tasted it and nodded approvingly. I think Grammy made points today.
They didn't want tea but grape soda went well
The cake was in the oven and the lemon buttercream in the fridge when she started crying again. My head throbbed. Phillip looked desperate. I IM’d Marissa to please hurry over with the cousins and got the reply back OMW. The tears were still going and I scanned the yard looking, thinking and saw the little pink and white plastic table. “Isis want to throw a tea party for your cousins?” Crying stopped, she looks up and asks, “tea party?” I nod carefully, trying not to cause ripples in the migraine. “Si!” she chirps.
So now I have a tea party to pull out of um…somewhere.
Jasmine and Isis comadreando at the tea party
I take the now done cake out of the oven cut it into petit four type rectangles, top it with a blob of lemon buttercream, decorate with lavender and mint from the garden, set the table quickly, find grape soda and some straws and just before she hits the internal Cry button one more time, Jasmine and Aiden walk in the door with presents for their cousin. Tea party success! Everyone enjoyed it and even Ozzy got a slice of cake (well he ate the buttercream right off it, Ozzy is a sucker for butter even when I pollute it with lemon).
Let him eat cake!
It’s been two hours and still no llanto. She’s too distracted with cousins, jumping on the bed, the trampoline, running with the dog and Jasmine who is the social director of the cousins. Thank God. Fingers crossed, hope it lasts.
Even the big boys come to our tea parties
Tags: aiden, big mouth, bourbon vanilla, buttercream, cake mix, cousins, drop of a hat, duncan hines, fridge, how to zest a lemon, isis, isis visit, jasmine, lemon juice, migraine, pantry, roommate, son phillip, summer, tea parties, tea party, white cake, whole lotta, zest
Sometimes I make omelettes. It’s usually very rare that I eat eggs. Most of the time on those rare occasions that I eat an egg, it’s poached but every once in a blue moon I make omelettes. When that happens, my house goes nuts because they love, love, love my omelettes. I never start out knowing what kind of omelette it will be but they always turn out amazingly good. I just reach for whatever’s in the fridge and it builds itself.
Like this morning…
I stumbled out of bed, aching for coffee and thinking of breakfast. Opening the fridge, I saw the eggs and knew I’d be making an omelette. I saw argula, shaved parmesan, potatoes and a half an onion. I diced the potato thinly along with the onion and sauteed them in butter till brown and crispy, then slid them into a bowl. Next up, six eggs with a little heavy cream – whisked those, added a little salt and cracked pepper and poured them into the potato pan. The trick to a good omelette is having the patience to let the bottom set properly. I use a low flame and slowly spatula the edges letting the runny part slide on down till most of it is cooked.
Once the omelette was set, I flipped it over, filled one side with the potato/onion mixture along with a couple of handfuls of fresh baby arugula and folded it. I topped it with the nice grated parmesan and some cracked pepper and served it out to the roommate and my son Phillip who said, “Mom, I wish you’d make omelettes every day.”
Tags: arugula, baby arugula, blue moon, cracked pepper, egg, eggs, family, fridge, grated parmesan, handfuls, heavy cream, little salt, low flame, making an omelette, morning breakfast, nuts, omelettes, onion mixture, parmesan, patience, potato onion, potatoes, roommate, son phillip, those rare occasions
Oatmeal in a Latino home is nothing like oatmeal in other places. The microwave stuff is just ickygoop nonsense and it just plain grosses me out. The plain oatmeal I’ve had at restaurants I will never have again because, well it’s just plain boring. It sits in the bowl all sad kinda looking at you saying, “but I’m healthy.” Yes it’s healthy and filled with cholesterol reducing fiber. It’s great for your heart but it’s NOT my grandma’s oatmeal.
That wonderful little house on Goodwin Avenue in Los Angeles was always filled with good smells and flavors. The flowers, trees and herbs scented the air and the frogs singing in the evenings was magical. Mornings there were spent under piles of blankets in my Auntie Jessie’s bedroom with the antique oval framed picture of St. Teresa of Avila looking down upon me with sad eyes. Eventually, the scent of my grandma Lupe cooking would drift in and capture me. One of the aromas that always got me smiling was the cinnamony goodness of avena or oatmeal.
The oatmeal I grew up with was rich, decadent and almost like a pudding. My grandmother would pull out her hammered pot with the worn wooden handle, add water and cinnamon (canela) sticks to it and a handful or two of plump, juicy raisins. The water would boil till it was a deep, dark red and the house was absolutely redolent of cinnamon. The raisins would plump up huge as they drank in the cinnamon water and start to float up.
When that happened, my grandmother would add in the oats. She used old-fashioned rolled oats, or a mixture of grains and oats still with lots of fiber that my uncle would bring her from this grain place. No quicky five minute oats for her. No, she used the kind that takes at least 20 minutes. She’d lower the flame on her oatmeal pot and stir in those yummy oats slowly. They’d simmer away for 20 minutes absorbing all that cinnamon and raisin liquor. Then came the decadent part.
Grandma Lupe would take a can of evaporated milk and pour that into her simmering pot of avena. That thick, creamy, almost yellow milk would imbue the oatmeal with an intensely milky flavor and make the texture velvety. Slowly the oats would bubble, with my grandma stirring carefully so it wouldn’t stick. She’d had sugar bit by bit until her practiced eyes would tell it it was just right. She’d then let it simmer, stirring all the while for another five minutes just to make sure that sugar was well blended and not grainy.
There was nothing better than that avena. She’d serve me in a little bowl with fresh milk poured over it and a pat of butter on top. The first spoonful was super rich, super creamy and all kinds of delicious. The raisins would burst in my mouth tasting unbelievably, insanely delicious. I never forgot those mornings, made her avena for my kids almost every day and now, on a lazy Saturday morning am making it for my grandchildren whom I hope will have the same memories of a kitchen filled with love and cinnamony avena simmering in a pot.
Tags: aroma, aromas, auntie, avena, canela, cooking, family history, flame on, flavors, frogs, growing up, jessie, little house, lupe, minute oats, oatmeal, oats, plump juicy raisins, quicky, raisin, recipes, rolled oats, sad eyes, st teresa of avila, teresa of avila, wooden handle
Papaloquelite or Papalo – the word is ancient like many Mexican words. Papalotl means butterfly and the word quelite means greens and is used for many edible greens and grasses including lamb’s quarters which I’ve written about before. My grandmother, who knew just about everything about plants and herbs told me that the plant got its name because its scent attracted butterflies. The word hearkens back to Azteca/Mexica times just like the avocado (aguacatl), tomato (tomatl), chile, chocolate (chocolatl), maiz and the venerable frijole. These staples form a large part of the cultural patrimony of Latin America and for me, to Mexico in particular. In the U.S., it is slowly making its way into the Mexican or Latina American markets where the clientele knows what to do with it. Years ago I had to go buy it in small little Mexican shops where the store owner grew it in his backyard or grow it myself. In Mexico, it grows rampant all over, its heady scent perfuming the air.
I love it. Just the sight of it in the vegetable aisle at Superior market the other day got my heart racing and I was like a little girl, hopping up and down in the aisle as excited as my granddaughter gets over a pink cupcake. My roommate David was looking at me in the oddest manner, wondering why his crazy Mexican, overly demonstrative business partner was in ecstasy over a humble green bunch of weeds. “It’s papalo” I shrieked, “we HAVE to get papalo for the sopes”. Looking at his skeptical face, I broke off a small leaf and told him to bite into it. Immediately his face changed from bewilderment to sheer foodie pleasure as I knew it would. I knew then I had him hooked and happily tucked my papalo into its little plastic bag and then into the shopping cart almost skipping (okay I actually did skip) down the aisle.
The Latin name for papaloquelite is Porophyllum ruderale and it is also known as Bolivian coriander though it is not a member of the coriander family. Some seed companies sell it, likening it to a combo between arugula, coriander and rue. There’s a wiki for it under Bolivian Coriander here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bolivian_Coriander There are a few other posts about it online, but there still isn’t a huge wealth of info on it. I would love to hear your stories about it, any nutritional info, recipes etc. for a follow-up post on the herb.
Papalo has many uses. The scent is not unlike cilantro but headier, more perfumey. The leaves are wide and somewhat rippled, almost like watercress but without the crunch. It’s hard to describe the taste – some people compare it to cilantro but there’s no comparison to me. Papalo is its own. While sometimes it takes the place of cilantro in dishes, its taste is unique. It makes amazingly delicious salsas. I use it to top sopes instead of lettuce, I use it in salads, The citrusey, almost arugula-like strength of it lends well to pork dishes in particular. It makes a great lettuce substitute and I’ve used it in chopped up fresh on top of pastas. I love mixing papalo with cilantro too. One of my favorite meals is cilantro chicken served with white rice accompanied by a papalo and papaya salad. It is AMAZING with papaya. In Puebla, it is an important ingredient in the famous Cemita (a type of sandwich). It also is a perfect companion for fishes dishes, especially ceviche. David got hold of it last night and mixed it into some ice cream with lavender and basil and said it was great. I’ll have to try that too.
Papalo or papaloquelite is an amazing herb, one I’m glad to see is becoming more available here. My grandmother said it was good for me, but I have yet to find out the nutritional value of it. Either way this is an herb worth investigating. I
Tags: american markets, arugula, avocado, aztec herbs, bewilderment, bolivian coriander, business partner, cilantro, coriander, cultural patrimony, cupcake, edible greens, frijole, granddaughter, grasses, heady scent, herbal, herbs, latin america, latin name, maiz, mexican herbs, mexican plants, papalo, papaloquelite, roommate, rue, Salads, salsa, sopes, staples, store owner, weeds, wild herbs
Some things are just meant to be simple, delicious and evocative. My earliest memories of food and cooking always have the gorgeous aroma of beans simmering on my grandmother’s stove. She made a fresh pot almost every day and the smell is woven into all my memories of her, the house with the creaky wooden floors and the smells of her flowers.
Every time I make a pot, it is like she is right back front and center, larger than life with her gentle little hands, showing me how to pat a tortilla, measure something out for baking, how to chop finely, how to pinch up the sides of a sope and a million other life lessons. I miss her as keenly over 20 years since she’s been gone from this world as the day I lost her, but the scent of beans cooking in the pot always makes me feel her presence and it comforts me.
Beans seem like simple fare, maybe even bothersome or peasant food to some but to me they are necessary. They go with just about any meal, are loaded with nutrients, are economical, versatile and filling and I couldn’t imagine life without them. My favorite though is just out of the pot topped with chopped onion, tomato and cilantro. It’s like a soup, absolutely delicious and with a freshly made tortilla dipped in, pure ecstasy.
To my mind, nothing is better than that first bowl of beans fresh out of a clay pot before they get re-fried or used for other things like tostadas, burritos, etc. I still love them however they are cooked, but that first bowl of soupy pinto beans with the bright Mexican flag colors is just special.
I often get asked, “how do your beans come out so good?” or “what did you do to make them so good?” and it always surprises me, because to me beans are beans and no work at all. I do remember my mother couldn’t make a pot to save her life. We’d come home from school to the smell of burnt beans permeating the house and think, “Jeez, mom forgot to put water in the beans again.” That never happened at Grandma’s house. When I go over the steps in my head to my Grandma Lupe’s perfect pot of beans, its almost zen-like to me. Maybe other Mexican cooks have different ways of preparing them but I only know hers and they’re always, always perfect so I thought I’d share the steps.
My grandmother never used just pinto beans. She had this beautiful, big acrylic container my Uncle Adam had made for her that was filled with a mixture of large white beans, kidney beans, pintos, small lima beans, navy beans and pink beans. The varying colors and sizes were beautiful and to me as a child, like little gems in a treasure box. I loved sticking my hands into that clear container and picking up handfuls and letting them stream back in.
First step to a pot of good beans is cleaning them. This is where the zen comes in. My grandmother would pile in front of me little hills of beans and my job was to carefully inspect each one. Broken ones, little dirt rocks and ones with the skins peeling were swiftly scooted off into a discard pile. Good ones went into the keep pile. I always found it very soothing to sort the beans and still do.
Once you’re done sorting the beans, put the good ones into a colander and wash them throughoughly in warm water then set aside.
In a large pot* fill just about an inch below the rim with cool water and bring to a boil.
Once you have the water at a rolling boil, add salt (no measurements here – depends on taste and how much you are making), two cloves of garlic and one golden onion, peeled and quartered.
Next add the beans and lower the flame/heat to very low. Cover with a tight fitting lid and let simmer (no peeking) for three hours. You do need to keep adding boiling water every so often to keep the water level an inch from the rim. Don’t forget to put water in the beans!! My grandma always kept a small pot simmering on the back burner so she could add in water and keep the temp the same.
One thing I notice is if you want nice, pink beans you limit the lid lifting. One of my friends is a compulsive lid-lifter and her beans, while they are delicious come out very dark. Some weird chemical reaction (oxidation?) happens when you lift the lid. I’ve also found that people who soak their beans before cooking them also get the dark thing going on. I am not a fan of soaking them. Why bother when you can put a pot on in the morning and have delicious beans in the afternoon?
Ok – so everyone is gonna ask but, but, but Gina you didn’t give us measurements and we don’t know how many beans to put in so I’ll attempt to gauge the amount I put in this morning. I’m using a large soup pot (stainless steel because my olla broke and I have to go back to Mexico and buy another one because I’m so not buying an olla from here but you can that’s just me) and it holds 18 cups of water just an inch below the rim, to those 18 cups I put in about 4 cups of beans. Salt is to taste so no measurement there. I start with about hmm three tablespoons and go from there.
So that’s it my grandmother’s secret for a perfect pot of beans. Love, care and some patience.
*When I was growing up, beans were cooked in a clay olla or pot. Nowadays, there is a concern with the lead content in Mexican ollas so I won’t tell you to use one even though I do. I love the flavor my olla imparts to the beans. If you want to use a traditional clay olla, please find one that is lead-free.
Tags: aroma, beans, chopped onion, clay pot, cooking, creaky wooden floors, easy recipes, economical, ecstasy, flag colors, food, frijoles, frijoles dela olla, frugality, grandma, grandmother, larger than life, little hands, memories, mexican flag, mom, nutrients, peasant food, pinto beans, presence, recipes, sope, surprises, tomato
It was a hot summer night and I didn’t feel like making a full dinner. We just weren’t that hungry but something snacky sounded good. I mentally started going through the recipe list that lives in my head for something cool, spicy, semi-healthy and fun. Running through the list I wasn’t finding anything I was in the mood for then I remembered the big bag of chiles gueritos I had just bought at the market earlier in the day. It got me remembering a trip to Mexico with my friend Elodia, her husband Frank, and the rest of her family.
We had been at her parent’s home in the Imperial Valley visiting and since it was so close to the border, we just headed in to a little seafood restaurant they knew and loved. One of the things that was served as an appetizer were these amazing little stuffed chile gueritos. The chiles were fried in butter, stuffed with breaded and very fresh shrimp and served with a little side dish of soy sauce. They were delectable and stayed in my memory for a very long time. The memory of good friends, good food, cold beer and Mexico is one of my favorites and I’ve since fiddled with and made those same stuffed chiles as well as many permutations of them. They always turn out amazing and everyone is a fan so I started thinking about what I had in the house to stuff the chiles with.
Stepping into my still almost an obstacle course kitchen in the fixer upper house we just bought, I started scanning my shelves. First thing I saw was the 36 cans of albacore tuna that my roommate David brought home proudly on one of his bargain shopping trips. Laughing, I grabbed a can and started assembling the rest of my ingredients: butter, chiles, a yellow onion, two stalks of celery, a few key limes, two tomatoes, salt, pepper, soy sauce and a squeeze bottle of mayo and got to work. About 20 minutes later, I had a relatively healthy and satisfying snack that was beautiful and delicious. I served my chiles on a bed of caramelized onions and tomatoes to give a little sweetness to the dish. It’s the perfect thing for a hot summer night. Just add cold beer or some icy Prosecco and you’re good to go.
Chiles Rellenos de Atun
10 chile gueritos
tablespoon butter
1 can albacore tuna, drained well
2 stalks of celery, minced
1/2 a medium tomato, finely minced
salt and pepper to taste
squeeze of lime or lemon
caramelized onions and tomatoes
Wash the chiles and pat dry. In a cast iron skillet, melt the butter on a low flame and then add the whole chiles stems and all. Let brown and blister, then turn making sure each chile gets well browned and blistered all the way around. Remove from heat and cover with a damp cloth. Let cool.
In a mixing bowl, add the drained albacore tuna, the tomatoes, celery, lime juice,salt and pepper. Mix well, breaking the tuna up into very small flakes. Let rest for five minutes covered.
Peel the cooled chiles, leaving the stems on. Slit them down the middle lengthwise stopping just before the end. You want a small pocket. Carefully remove the seeds if you want to. My family happens to like them in because the chiles are spicier with. Up to you. I tend to leave them in if my boys are visiting but for guests, I remove all the seeds.
Using a spoon stuff each chile just enough to let a small about of the tuna mixture pop out. Garnish with a dab of mayonnaise and a slice of lime. Serve them on a bed of caramelized onions and tomato slices and a dipping bowl of soy sauce on the side. The sweetness of the caramelized veggies will cool the heat just enough.
Tags: appetizers, atun, chile guerito, chiles, snacks, stuff chiles, tuna
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