Gina Ruiz

Tacos de Papa

PC100004 1024x768 Tacos de PapaDo you ever have those days when you just want comfort food?  Something rich, creamy, decadent and certainly not on any diet or healthy menu?

I do.  Sometimes comfort food to mes a grilled cheese sandwich with hot tomato soup and sometimes it is crispy fried hash browns sizzling on a plate.  Mashed potatoes fill the comfort food bill nicely as well.

Yesterday, I was in one of those moods.  I’d had a difficult day that started in the morning when I read my email.  I won’t get into it, but to say that it was upsetting.  The whole day was challenging in fact in an already challenging month.  So I wanted comfort food.  Something savory, crunchy and fattening.  Something that would warm me up, make me say “mmmm” and chase all the gloom away.  I wanted Mexican food. No grilled cheese or hash browns were going to make my day better, I needed to step it up a notch.  I saw the potatoes in their bowl and thought to myself, “mashed potatoes” but immediately discounted it.  Then I thought, “mmmm tacos de papa” which is basically mashed potatoes stuffed into a corn tortilla and deep fried.  Yeah baby!

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A Little Holiday Cheer From Vive Mejor (UPDATED)

 

Are you ready for some Christmas cheer?

 

I didn’t hear you…

Vivemejor, an amazing website that caters to the Latino community has a little holiday present for two lucky readers! Do you want to know what’s in the baskets?  I’m super duper excited to be able to do a giveaway and wish you all the best of luck.  Here’s a photo of the basket and below that, a list of what’s in them as well as some info about Vivemejor.

image003 A Little Holiday Cheer From Vive Mejor (UPDATED)

Check out the goodies!

Gift Basket Content / Contenido de la Canasta

  • (1) The line of products from Vivemejor.com (includes food products like Knorr®, Hellmann’s® and Ragú®)
  • (1) 150 Gift Card
  • (4) Movie tickets

 

  •  (1) Línea de productos Vivemejor.com
  • (1) Certificado de regalo de $150
  • (4) Entradas para el cine

 

About Vivemejor.com / Sobre Vivemejor.com

·         Vivemejor.com offers Latinas tips, information, and advice to help you live better each day. Enjoy this one-stop resource for expert beauty advice and easy do-it-yourself tips, easy, quick and delicious recipes and product recommendations, and more! You can follow them online at www.vivemejor.com, and on Facebook, Twitter and YouTube, for the latest on beauty, food, and family tips from their panel of experts.

 

·         Vivemejor.com les ofrece a las latinas como tú valiosos tips para simplificar tu vida y compartirlos con tu familia y amigos. Disfruta de deliciosas recetas fáciles de preparar, tips de belleza para lucir hermosa, recomendaciones de productos y ¡mucho más! Puedes seguirlos a través de www.vivemejor.com, Facebook, Twitter y YouTube para ver más tips de belleza y cocina de su panel de expertos.

SO…

“How do I win one of these fabulous baskets Gina,” you ask?

Well, it’s really easy.  Since this is my very first giveaway, I want it to be simple.  Like us on Facebook and also like Vivemejor at their Facebook page (see link above).  Following Vivemejor on Twitter gets you an extra entry.  Leave me a comment telling me you did so and that’s it!  I’ll write the entries down on paper and let my granddaughter Jasmine pick out two names out of a bowl (yes, I can use something more technical like Randomizer.org but then my grandkids won’t have the fun of it and this is our FIRST CONTEST).  Please leave a way for me to contact you if you win, in  your comment. Once the winners email me their shipping info, Vivemejor will ship the basket right out.  That’s it!  How easy is that?  One more thing, the contest is open to U.S. residents only.

So what are you waiting for?  You know you want to enter!

We’ll pick the winners on Monday, December 12th, 2011.  Good luck everyone!

Disclaimer: I will receive a similar basket from similar from Vivemejor®. I did not receive monetary compensation for this giveaway.

 

 

Entries are now closed.  Good luck everyone!

 

The two winners of the holiday baskets from Vivemejor are:

Darlene Chan and Helen Troncoso!

Felicidades!

I’ll be contacting you both via email to get your mailing addresses so that Vivemejor can send out your baskets.  Congratulations again!

 

 

 

The Nacimiento

5014 adoration of the magi gentile da fabriano1 1024x657 The Nacimiento

Adoration of the Magi by Gentile da Fabriano

During the Christmas season, there was lots of hustle and bustle at the creaky old house on Goodwin Avenue.  All of us loved the season, but my very religious grandparents loved it most of all.  For us kids, it meant presents; good food; a break from school; getting to live at that house for the whole school break and the excitement of the nacimiento.

Putting out the nacimiento (nativity scene) is pretty standard in Latino Catholic households.  My grandparents really did it up.  Every year, my Papa Chava would prepare for it.  He had built a manger with branches from the trees outside and as it made its way up from the basement, he would check it carefully for loose nails, splintering or boughs that needed replacing.  He’d take it into his workshop in el garaje (the garage) to make any needed repairs.  Once it was fixed, he’d bring it and and set it down lovingly on the table that had been just as lovingly draped in a beautiful cloth by either my Auntie Jessie or my grandmother. Once the hand-crafted manger was set up, my Papa would go back outside and get up on his ladder.  He’d cut down boughs of sweet smelling pine and use them to cover the top of the manger’s roof.  The Baby Jesus needed a strong roof after all.

I often had the honor of going down to the basement with my Auntie Jessie and digging through all the goodies there to find the boxes of carefully packed nativity figurines.  Some of these were incredibly beautiful.  The Baby Jesus was life size and gorgeous.  He was made in Italy sometime in the 1940′s and his glass eyes and little teeth were so very realistic.  I loved that figurine.  Mary and Joseph were equally beautiful and the Reyes Magos (Three Kings) were stunningly attired and regal.  The hand-painted detail of these figurines was stunning.  They all looked as if they had walked right out of a painting by Da Vinci or Carraveggio.

The animals too, were realistic and beautifully painted.  Cows, donkey, camels, the elephant one of the Tres Magos rode in on all were placed carefully within and around the manger.  A star was placed on top to replicate the Star of Bethlehem and my grandfather had rigged it so that it lit up when we turned it on at night.  Everything waited in the manger for the Christ Child to be born, even the little cradle with it’s handmade, incredibly soft blankets made by my Aunt Jessie and Grandmother.

Some years, Auntie Jessie would make the Baby Jesus a new gown of baby blue satin, edge in gold lace or trim.  He was a kingly child after all.

The anticipation grew each day as we watched the tree filling up with presents and the nacimiento still empty.  Finally, the night of Noche Buena (the good night) would come and off we would go to midnight mass at the little parish church, Cristo Rey on Perlita Street.  At communion, wine would be given with the host and we kids would feel VERY important and grown up with that sip of wine to wash away the wafer thin host.

The short walk home was exciting too, if cold but we were well bundled up by my Grandma Lupe so it wasn’t ever too bad.  When we got home, hot champurrado would be waiting on the stove and the Baby Jesus would be “born”; placed in his cradle by either of my grandparents.  We would line up to greet him, each of placing a gentle kiss on his forehead to welcome him to the world.

We’d had our champurrado and maybe empanadas or pan then be bundled off to bed to wait excitedly for Santa Claus and Christmas Day.

I don’t know what happened to my grandparent’s nativity scene, since lots of things disappeared after they died, so I don’t have pictures of it.  There is a Baby Jesus almost like it here http://nicholasandsteele.blogspot.com/2010/10/this-n-that.html but our Baby Jesus was laughing and you could see his little teeth.  He was a much happier baby.

 

In Praise of Sinigang

PC040016 1024x768 In Praise of Sinigang

Mmmmm…..

Sinigang.

What’s that you say?  Sinigang?  What is that?

Sinigang is a traditional Filipino tamarind-based soup that my grandchildren’s other Grandmother,  Annabel makes.  The base is made of tamarind, fish sauce, meat and tomatoes with vegetables and sometimes peppers added.  The first time I had it, I fell in love with it.  The flavor of that tangy, delicious soup haunted me and made my mouth water every time I thought of it.

Annabel knows its my favorite and so she makes it for me often.  Whenever I ask her how to make it, she says, “Just meat and vegetables” in that typically modest way of hers.  She doesn’t think she’s a good cook when in fact, she’s really an incredible one.  In some ways, she reminds me of my Grandma Lupe.  Like my grandmother, she tosses in a little of this and a little of that to make magic in a bowl or plate.  She shows her love and care for the people close to her by feeding them, another Dona Lupe trait.  Also like my grandmother, Annabel is overly modest about her abilities.

One of her specialities is her soup.  Annabel makes soups that will make angels weep, they are so good.  There’s always something simmering on the stove that smells amazing and nine times out of ten, one of those pots is full of some kind of yummy soup.  The queen of them all though, is sinigang, my personal favorite.  My Latina palate loves all things spicy and tangy so it’s no big surprise that this is my favorite Filipino dish.

Annabel uses a tamarind base by Knorr though she’s told me that given time, she’d make it with fresh tamarind pods.  Since the grandkids are still young and their palate’s not quite so developed, she omits the finger-length green hot peppers that traditionally are part of the dish.  I’ve had it with those, and it brings a spicy heat to the soup that is delicious, but I agree with her to not include it when the kids are wanting soup.  We don’t want to turn them off of a delicious thing just because its too spicy.

I spent last night at the grandkids’ apartment and had arrived sniffling.  With the recent high winds all over Los Angeles, I either had a bad case of allergies, or the beginning of a cold.  Either way my nose is red and raw.  Annabel took one look at me and said, “You need soup” as she poured my coffee.  Settled in with the grandkids later, I fell asleep and woke to the scent of tamarind.  “Sinigang”, I thought, “she’s making sinigang” and jumped out of bed to watch her make it.  Sadly, she was already done and serving it into a bowl with steamed rice.  “Gina, eat soup.  I made your favorite, sinigang.”  Yes, I am a lucky woman to have this blended family that loves me. Well, she didn’t have to tell me twice.  Jasmine popped her head out from the covers and said, “I smell sinigang.”  It didn’t take her long to slide down from the top bunk and tumble into the small kitchen.

We sat at the table with steaming bowls of tamarind-scented soup, and I watched the grandkids smiling as they dug in.  Annabel was hovering over Aiden, chopping up his meat in small bite-sized pieces and I found myself turning Jasmine’s bowl in just such a way so she wouldn’t spill her rice over.  The wind howled a little outside as we ate our tangy, tomatoey broth with vegetables, meat and rice.  Warm in my belly, the soup soothed, kept my sneezing at bay and I had made sure to snap a photo  before demolishing it.

Annabel promises to show me how to make it.  She often changes up the vegetables in it, depending on what’s available in her fridge.  Today the veggies included radishes, baby bok choy, asparagus and tomatoes.  I’ve told her I’m going to video the whole process so that the grandkids we share have it always.  It’s as much their legacy as my grandmother’s recipes are, and most definitely belongs here in Doña Lupe’s Kitchen.

Spicy Lentil Soup

PB300066 1024x768 Spicy Lentil Soup

It’s been cold here in Los Angeles and I’ve been gravitating to soups and stews for their comforting warmth.  Today, I wanted lentils or lentejas as we call them.  I wanted something different though, not the Mexican style lentils I usually make.  I wanted soup, but something rich and rib sticking that would pair well with crusty, warm bread.

I set my lentils to boil with a clove of garlic and a quartered small onion.  While that boiled, I rummaged round the fridge to see what I had on hand.  The Ziplock bags of sliced Honeybaked ham almost danced into my hands.  Mmmmm.  I was already imagining that smokey, pork flavor mixed with the lentils.  I found tomatoes and some long green California chiles as well and pulled those out to dice them.  Once my lentils were cooked, I fired up a heavy skillet, coated it liberally with some bacon fat and fried up my chiles and tomatoes.  I also diced up one small Serrano pepper for some heat and fried that with the other chiles and tomatoes.  Once the chiles and tomatoes were well caramelized, I added the diced ham and fried that till nicely browned.  Then I scooped in the lentils and let them simmer into the mixture.  I let it simmer covered for about a half hour and the result was a spicy, thick and delicious soup.

Gina’s Spicy Lentil Soup

2 cups of dried lentils

2 cloves of garlic

water

one small onion, quartered

one tomato, diced

two California chiles, chopped

one Serrano chile, diced finely

one cup ham, roughly chopped

Salt and pepper to taste

 

In a heavy saucepan, bring the water to boil and add the lentils.  I usually add two cups of water for every cup of lentils.  Add the garlic cloves and the quartered onion.  Simmer, covered for about 45 minutes or until the lentils are soft.  You may have to add more water to prevent them from drying out. Lentils absorb an awful lot of water.

Chop your chiles, seed and de-vein them.  Diced the tomatoes and set aside.

In a heavy greased skillet (I used bacon fat but you can substitute olive oil or anything you want), fry the chiles and tomatoes until carmelized.  Add the chopped ham and fry till browned nicely.

Add the lentils to the chile and ham mixture and lower the heat.  Add salt and pepper to taste.

Simmer, covered another 20 minutes so that the flavors blend well.

Serve with warm, toasty bread.

 

 

Pancake Cookies

Did you ever have a serious yearning for cookies and need to make them NOW?

That was me today around four o’clock.

I wanted cookies and nothing else would do.  I was sure I had the ingredients for a basic sugar cookie dough so I got started.  I found some nuts and chopped them up finely; dug butter out from behind all the Thanksgiving leftovers and also chopped some maraschino cherries (no idea why, it just seemed like a good idea).  I opened the freezer and saw the blueberries I’d bought on sale and froze so I grabbed a few of those as well.

I creamed together butter and sugar; added the eggs and vanilla and went to get the flour.  There was NO FLOUR!

This never happens.  I ALWAYS have flour.  So I freaked out a little and started hunting.  Nope, no flour.  This was seriously a kitchen disaster.  I couldn’t run out to the store because I just paid some bills and had no money left.  Not even for flour.  And, I had those eggs and butter mixed up already in a bowl on the counter.  *Note to self: Next time make sure you have ALL the ingredients!

I should know better.  I’ve preached mis en place to my kids and grandkids for years.  I was never going to live this one down.  Frantically, I gave the kitchen one more pass through.  I found not flour, but Maseca.  Um, could I make cookies out of corn flour?  My tastebuds rebelled.  I found pancake mix.  Hmmmmm.

There’s flour in pancake mix.  That’s it.  I used pancake mix substituting the two and a half cups of flour for two cups of pancake mix.  I hesitated for a moment wondering if I should omit the baking powder, then at the last minute added it.  It looked like cookie dough.  It tasted like cookie dough, so feeling brave; I added the chopped nuts and cherries.

I didn’t chill it.  I figured rolling out sugar cookies with this batch could go badly.  So I made them drop cookies and carefully dropped them into the pan, topping each in the center with a blueberry.  I popped them into the oven and crossed my fingers.

Soon, the kitchen smelled heavenly and like cookies but I still had my doubts.  Taste would tell.  The cookies stuck a little to the pan and folded over almost like a tuille cookie.  Hmm.  I picked up one of the broken pieces and popped it into my mouth.  YUM!  The cookie tasted like a combination of a Mexican wedding cookie and shortbread.  I adore both so these cookies were absolutely delicious.  I shaped one quickly while it was still warm and sure enough, it cooled in the shape.  They’d work as tuilles.  Cool!  The cherries and blueberries as an accent gave them a light, fruity pop.

All that is left of my experiment is crumbs.  I will be making these again WITH the pancake mix and trying them out as tuilles.

Sometimes, a kitchen disaster can turn into something absolutely delish.

 

Basic Sugar Cookie Dough

1 c. butter, softened
1 c. sugar
2 eggs
1 1/2 tsp. vanilla
2 1/2 c. flour (substitute 2 cups of pancake mix)
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
Cream together the butter and sugar.  Add eggs one at a time, then the vanilla.  Add dry ingredients and mix through.
Option: add chopped nuts or cherries into your dough and mix well.
Drop cookies in small portions on a greased cookie sheet and bake for six to eight minutes in a preheated 350 degree oven.
Makes two dozen.

The Guayaba Trees

PB260055 1024x768 The Guayaba Trees

Far in the back of the house on Goodwin Avenue was a garden. Well, there were several gardens in that house, but the one to the very back of the property; past the patio and the garage was the vegetable garden. That garden belonged to my Papa (grandfather). There were nopales (cactus) growing against the back wall of the white-painted garage; a membrillo (quince) tree that I had planted with him when I was about two years old; a lemon tree that always seemed full of big, juicy fruit; and two guayaba (guava) trees. There was cilantro, chiles, strawberries, chives, and tomatoes growing in neat rows in one patch and a stand of tall caña a (sugar cane) and corn growing against the back fence that sheltered us from the witch’s house. Really, she was just a mean and nasty old lady who yelled at us over the fence. I have no idea why everyone in the neighborhood called her the witch, but she scared the crap out of all of us.

I loved that garden with it’s strange, but efficient irrigation system of old MJB glass coffee jars that routed the water from the hose neatly down each row. I loved my grandfather’s ingenuity. Two old and re-purposed broom sticks leaned against the lemon tree. My grandfather had attached the curve part of a wire hanger to them and those handy hooks on a stick would bring the highest lemons, tumbling into my basket or apron with just a single twist and pull. Most of all, I loved the guayaba trees.

My grandfather once told me he brought the seedlings of those trees from Mexico many years before. I believed him. I believe he nourished those seedlings with all the love and care he gave everything in that garden. Those trees to me, were a symbol of his love and devotion and I knew he would care for me and keep me safe just as he had those trees all those years ago.

Come the end of September and through the beginning of December those two trees would produce a wealth of delicious guayabas. They smelled musky and the white kids on the school bus would laugh at my full bags of fruit on the bus because they said they smelled like underarms. I didn’t care, through my face burned hotly at their cruel comments. I loved them. The guayabas tasted of my grandparent’s house and love. They were soft, sweet and delicious and I loved the little round ball of edible seeds. There’s nothing like the taste of guayabas and for me, they say Autumn in the way falling leaves do for other people.

I loved bringing in bowls full of the yellow fruit to my grandmother. What we didn’t gobble up fresh off the tree was made into cajeta, ate de guayaba that was later used for empanadas, ponche navideño, and even once, a very pink cake that caused my Aunt Jessie and I so much work to strain the seeds so they didn’t fill the batter. I loved walking into the kitchen and smelling the guayabas ripening in bowls around it. The two trees themselves reminded me of a favorite song of my grandmother’s by Pedro Infante Dos Arbolitos, a song about two trees.

When my mother inherited the house, she let the gardens die including the two trees my grandfather devoted a big chunk of his life to caring for. When I heard from a nephew that the trees had been chopped down, it felt like my grandparents had died all over again.

Every time I see or taste a guayaba, I am transported to that garden that will live on in my memories forever. In that garden, the trees are entwined and represent my Papa and Grandma.

Turkey, Tagalog and Carnitas: A Multi-cultural Thanksgiving

Someone recently said to me, “Thanksgiving is Thanksgiving and it shouldn’t be messed with. It HAS to be all the traditional foods or it’s not Thanksgiving.” I beg to differ.

The first Thanksgiving was a blending of cultures. Indigenous brought their foods to the pilgrims who put their own very English twist on things. Pumpkin pie, by its very nature is a cultural blend. The pumpkin is indigenous to the U.S.; the pastry came over from England and the spices from farther afield.

I grew up in a Mexican-American household in a family that absolutely embraced Thanksgiving and what it meant – to be thankful for your blessings and to be surrounded by family. At those meals, the table would be loaded with the “traditional” American dishes, but a few Mexican ones too would sneak their way onto the table.

As an adult and a home cook who adores exploring food, I’ve had just about everything on my Thanksgiving table at one time or another. As my children’s tastes developed and their curiousity about food grew, we added more dishes to the table. They brought friends from different cultures over and married into others. The Thanksgiving table became more blended and more complex each year.

This year, I celebrated Thanksgiving at my in-laws. My daughter-in-law Marissa is Filipina and her mother Anabel is an amazing cook. Like me, she knows the grandchildren we share are American and so, though the holiday or the food is somewhat unfamiliar, she navigates it and together, we’ve blended it yet again. This year, in two days Anabel will be at the Pomona Fairgrounds for a swearing in ceremony with over three thousand other new Americans. She’s passed her citizenship exam and after Tuesday will be as American as our grandchildren, so this Thanksgiving is extra special to her.

Our meal was simple. There was turkey (small one), carnitas, rice, a ham from Honeybaked, and accompaniments, and a few baked goods. The conversation around the table was in English, Tagalog (which I’m picking up quickly) and Spanglish. It wasn’t the Thanksgiving dinner I would have cooked had I been hosting (though equally delicious), nor was it the holiday of my youth. Was it any less Thanksgiving? No. We were thankful to be together, to share a meal in celebration of the upcoming citizenship, and to be safe with a roof over our heads. We were grateful for the challenges met and surpassed this year, for health recovered, for these beautiful children who will eventually share a rich and varied tradition of blended cultures. We gave thanks for what we have and shared hopes for a better future.

This morning, I awoke not to pumpkin pie and coffee – but to the smell of fish frying and rice cooking. I had fried eggplant, rice, chopped tomatoes served over steamed rice with bits of crispy fried fish with my morning coffee. I also awoke to the happy sounds of two kids still ebullient and full of memories of a very happy Thanksgiving.

The Children’s Table

Thanksgiving. Christmas. Easter.

On the big holidays, my grandparents’ house was full of people. Aunts, uncles, cousins, relatives from Mexico or Piru, random comadres and compadres from who knew where. They filled the house. Kids ran all over the place and as the smells of a holiday feast got stronger and stronger, the children’s tables were set up.

For us, it was card tables; those remnants from the 1950s when people would have card games and vist. Kind of like an antiquated version of a Facebook Mafia game. The dusty card tables would be pulled from some corner in the basement, the folded metal legs would come out, someone would wipe it down and bam, there’d be a kid’s table. The card tables were set up around the house with little chairs also pulled up from the cold basement, another remnant from the Cold War era when everyone built bomb shelters in their homes. I loved that basement.

At the children’s tables, places would be set. Napkins laid out, the right silverware lined up neatly. We didn’t get to use the good china or the pretty, amber bubbled glass stemware. We got the brightly colored metal glasses or plastic. Our table had a cloth laid, but it was no where near as fancy as the hand tatted lace one or the hand-embroidered one that had taken my grandmother over a year to make, her stitches so fine that not a knot could you see. Even covered with the protective clear cloth made of plastic that went over it, those beautiful tablecloths did not belong on the children’s table. We got linen, white and snowy; freshly laundered and thick enough to absorb our messes. We felt quite grand though, even at the kid’s table and much in the spirit of the holiday.

The beautiful food made it to the grown-up table, where the adults got to sit. On that beautiful table, in pride of place would be the turkey or ham, beautiful garnished. Thanksgiving was turkey, Easter and Christmas was ham. Surrounding the gorgeous meat were all the beautiful dishes filled with wonders. Cut glass bowls of beautiful salads, jello molds, huge bowls of shiny, still wrapped baked potatoes, another bowl of creamy mashed ones, casserole dishes of yams topped with marshmallows, stuffing, and on and on. It was a beautiful bounty. The pies and desserts were still in the kitchen.

At the children’s table, we got sliced and scooped versions of all the stunning food. Plates piled high with slices of white and dark meat, small bowls with the accompaniments. Our glasses were filled with punch by an adult and then we were left to be on our own. Our conversation mimicked the ones going on at the adult table, or so we thought. We thought ourselves to knowledgeable and conversant. Maybe we were. Sometimes, as children are wont to do, we eavesdropped on the bilingually chattering adults, hoping to catch a gem of a curse word or a hint of a scandal. The kind of thing that usually made for hushed tones and anxious looks to our table. We never really put it together though, but all the same, we felt that delicious shiver of knowing something was secret.

Eventually, we graduated to the grown-up table and took our places. We found it was much more fun at the kid’s table and no where near as glamorous. If we were grown up enough to sit there, then we’d been working in the kitchen and around the house all day non-stop. We sat there tired,worn and hungry but still hostess enough to hop up every time someone needed something.

I miss the children’s table of my youth. I never did that with my children. From the beginning they sat with the grownups. I wanted them near me and now I wonder if I did them a service or disservice by denying them the children’s table.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Waste Not, Want Not

PB170014 1024x741 Waste Not, Want Not

If you’re like me, once in a while there’s a day when you look in the fridge and say, “oh darn, the vegetables are starting to go soft and I might have to throw them away.”  I HATE wasting food.

I grew up mostly hungry.  My mother was on welfare and NEVER had much in the fridge.  She was a poor manager and really a bit of a space cadet when it came to household stuff.  Early on, my sisters and I learned that if we wanted to eat regularly and well, we’d have to do it ourselves.  My sister Wendy was the business manager.  It was she who would confiscate food stamps, make lists and handle the shopping with me (the oldest) to plan the menus and cook the food; and my sister Carol (the baby) to ride along in the shopping cart we would bring home.  Before we learned to do that, however it was either baloney in a tortilla, burnt beans (my mother was a horrible cook), and watery, unsweetened Kool-aid.  Blech.  I still can’t drink that stuff.

My Aunt Lupita remembers coming over and finding a very little me standing on a milk crate cooking something for my sisters.  I’ve been cooking for almost as long as I can remember and I can pretty much make a meal out of nothing, which in the current economy, is a darned good skill to have.

Visiting my grandparent’s house wasn’t just a holiday, it was salvation.  We’d walk in and there would be food EVERYWHERE.  The pantries were full, the fridge and freezers were full, the garden had food growing in it.  It was heaven to me, and if I could have lived there forever, I would have.

Once I had my own place, I made it my mission to always have food.  I’m a little obsessed with food and I hate waste.  So my vegetable drawer drives me crazy when I see things starting to soften.  That’s when I make soup and freeze it.

You can get some amazing soups out of the vegetables in your crisper that are starting to go soft.  Just the other day, I found broccoli that needed to be cooked immediately, some celery and carrots that were a couple of days away from being thrown out.  So I made soup.  I boiled the veggies with onion, garlic, a bit of fresh thyme then pureed it in the blender when it was cooled.  I used a can of evaporated milk in the vegetable puree, some salt, pepper, nutmeg and heated it through.  I served it with crusty brown bread and some grated cheese on top.  The rest, I froze and now can have some really great soup whenever I want.

It only takes a bit of time and the result it healthy, nutritious and cost effective.  Don’t throw the soft veggies away – make soup.  If you waste your vegetables, I just might throw a chancla at you.

 

Gina’s Creamy Broccoli, Celery and Carrot Soup

1/2 a head of broccoli, stems and florets – chopped into small chunks

1/2 a stalk of celery, leaves included – chopped

 

3 carrots – chopped

1/2 an onion – quartered

2 cloves of garlic

a few stems of fresh thyme

water

1 can of evaporated milk

salt and pepper to taste

Chop the vegetables and place in a saucepan with just enough water to cover.  Bring to a boil, then lower flame and cook covered, till the vegetables are very soft (about 15 minutes).

Let vegetables cool to room temperature, then strain, reserving the cooking liquid.

Puree in a blender or food processor until smooth.

Pour the puree into a heavy saucepan, add the milk and the reserved cooking liquid.  Whisk the mixture. Add salt and pepper to taste and heat through, stirring often to prevent the milk from scorching.

Makes about 4-6 servings.

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