cooking

Dec

29

Chicken Flautas with Two Kinds of Salsa

chicken / main dishes / salsa  Posted by / 0 comments

Antojida.

I love that word. An antojo is a craving.  Being antojida means you are seriously jonesing for something yummy.  Today, for no apparent reason I got one of those completely random antojos for some chicken flautas with guacamole, sour cream, Spanish rice, and some salsa.  I was working on something, so I kept pushing off the images floating in my head till finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore.  I put down the laptop, put on my shoes, put up my hair, grabbed my handbag and ran out the door.  Grocery list?  Pfft.  I knew exactly what I wanted.

  • Chicken
  • Tortillas
  • Chipotles en escabeche
  • chiles gueritos
  • tomatoes
  • avocados
  • fresh thyme
  • sour cream

I ran into the market (I do everything fast) and grabbed one of those little hand baskets.  I was in and out of the market in ten minutes and home in another five.  I did notice it was a gorgeous day in Southern California, but I didn’t linger to enjoy it.  I was on a flauta mission.  I couldn’t make up my mind which salsa I wanted more, so I made them both.

 

For the flautas:

Boil the chicken with sprigs of fresh thyme, two cloves of garlic, a quarter of an onion and some sea salt to taste.  Today, I used breast filets rather than a whole chicken because I was in a hurry.

Once the chicken is cooked, pull out the pieces and let cool.  Once cool, shred into strips.  Reserve the cooking liquid/broth.

Heat corn tortillas right over the flame or on a comal (griddle).  They won’t roll if they are cold.

Fill a heavy skillet half way with cooking oil and heat on medium.

Add some of the shredded chicken.  Not too much or your flautas will be unwieldy and too thick.  Think flute-like and elegant.  That’s what flauta means – flute.  Roll the tortilla up tight.  You can use toothpicks to hold them together.  I don’t. I use tongs and put them directly into the hot oil, one at a time.

Let the flautas brown completely on both sides until the tortilla is golden brown and crip.

Drain on a plate with paper towels to absorb the oil.

Serve with salsa, guacamole, sour cream and rice.

 

They look mild, but they are HOT!

For the salsa de chile guerito:

4 chile gueritos (yellow chiles)

2 cloves of garlic

4 Roma tomatoes

1/4 of an onion

salt to taste

cilantro

Boil the chiles, onion, garlic and tomatoes in a heavy sauce pan until very soft.  Keep in mind that yellow chiles are HOT.  They look mild, but don’t let that pale yellow color fool you.  If you don’t like heat, dial it back and use two chiles instead of the four I use.

Strain and cool, reserving the water.

Peel the tomatoes and chiles.

In a molcajete (blenders make it foamy and the texture is all wrong so if you don’t have a molcajete, try a potato ricer), crush the chiles, onions, tomatoes, and garlic until you have a smooth yet rather chunky mixtures.  Add in some of the water that the chiles cooked in until you get the consistency you want.

Add salt to taste (alternatively use Knorr Pollo) and cilantro leaves.

Salsa de chile guerito

 

For the salsa de chipotle con lima (Chipotle salsa with lime):

1 can of chipotles in escabeche

cilantro

chicken broth

salt to taste

two cooked chile gueritos

two cooked Roma tomatoes

2 cloves of garlic, minced

juice of fresh limes (about 1/8 cup)

Peel the cooked tomatoes and chiles and crush in a molcajete or using a potato ricer.  Pour into a bowl, adding the minced garlic.  In the molcajete, crush the canned chipotles until you have a thick paste.  Add that into the bowl with the tomatoes and chiles, using some chicken broth to thin it out a little.  Add salt to taste and some fresh cilantro (about a handful). Add the lime juice and stir to mix well.

Hot, smoky, tangy and oh so yum!

For the guacamole:

This is super simple guacamole.  The purist kind.  All you do is mash avocados and put them into a bowl.  You don’t want any other flavorings, not even salt.  The salsas you serve and the chicken itself will provide lots of flavor so leave the avocado pure.  That’s it!

Time to dig in!

Jan

24

Aiden’s Midnight Fig Jam

family recipes  Posted by / 2 comments

Frigidaire and Jennifer Garner are teaming up to inspire families everywhere to roll up their sleeves and get cooking together. Starting today, people can join in the Frigidaire Kids’ Cooking Academy ( www.maketimeforchange.com) to get great recipes, how-to videos and tips, all designed to help involve kids in the kitchen.

My kid-friendly recipe is one for a fig jam I made this summer with my grandchildren on a hot night when we couldn’t sleep for the heat.  It was tons of fun making it and I love the idea that every or every post submitted, Foodbuzz and Frigidaire will donate $50 to Save the Children.

******************************************************************************************************

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.

Oct

19

How Tía Lola Cooks Her Beans the Dominican Way: Guest Post by Author Julia Alvarez

family recipes / Guest Posts / stories  Posted by / 6 comments
habicheulas.jpg


Habichuelas from our farm in the Dominican Republic < cafealtagracia.com>
Photographs courtesy of Julia Alvarez and Bill Eichner

In How Tía Lola Learned to Teach, one of Tía Lola’s favorite sayings is “En todas partes cuecen habas“: Everywhere people cook beans. In other words, despite superficial differences, people are the same the whole world over.

But why beans? Miguel and Juanita would much rather Tía Lola make up a new saying like, “Everywhere people like ice cream,” or, “Everywhere people like to go to Disney World.” But actually beans have been around long before ice cream or Disney World. Not everyone in the world can afford to visit theme parks or purchase treats, but almost every culture has some variety of beans that form the staple of the diet. It might be lentils in India, or green peas in theEnglish-speaking Caribbean islands, or chick peas in the Middle East, or baked beans in the USA, but Tía Lola is right: beans are everywhere. It’s an important protein source, especially for people too poor to afford meat.

In the Spanish-speaking Americas, beans are very popular. In Mexico and Central America, they are called frijoles. But in the Dominican Republic, where Tía Lola is from, they are known as habichuelas, and they are often served over rice. That combination, rice and beans, is a complete protein, a good thing, as this duo is the staple of the poor man’s diet. But don’t get me wrong. This is no impoverished dish. If you cook beans Tía Lola’s way, you will have a rich, savory treat you can ladle over rice or serve as a side dish.

Before we get started on the beans, I have to explain what a sofrito is. It’s what you use to season the beans, and in fact, a sofrito is the seasoning base for many Dominican dishes. Stir-fry garlic and onions with tomatoes (or tomato paste), bell peppers (the garlic, onions, bell peppers, and tomatoes should be cut into small pieces), along with wine vinegar, oregano, cumin, coriander, red-pepper flakes, pepper and salt, and whatever else you’d like to add or omit. You are making your very own savory base, so you can be creative. Every cook has her own sofrito. Often, as Tía Lola can tell you, a good cook is known for her buen sazón, good seasoning. It’s like having a good bone structure if you want to be a model.

Tía Lola’s recipe comes to me via my husband Bill, who managed somehow to get the recipe from my tías. Bill, as you might guess, is the cook in the family. I actually wanted to learn to cook when I was growing up. But back then, in the Dominican Republic, there were so many tías in the kitchen, getting in each other’s way, offering their different opinions on what flavor was missing in a certain dish. (I told you every good cook has her very own sofrito.) The last thing Mami needed was a young girl, getting underfoot, asking questions. “Not now,” Mami would say, shooing me out of the kitchen. “Why don’t you go do something useful? Why don’t you go read a book?”

As a result I grew to adulthood without really knowing how to make my own sofrito or how to cook a flan or tostones or mangú con cebollitas. When Bill and I married, we continued visiting la familia in the Dominican Republic. Bill loved my tías cooking, which totally endeared him to them. Soon enough, he was being invited into their kitchens. Every trip, Bill would come back to Vermont with a new recipe and the ingredients in his suitcase. So, it was really Bill who taught me to make habichuelas the way my tías taught him how to make them.

Meanwhile, I seemed to have followed my mother’s orders after all. I not only read books, I also now write them. And Bill does most of the cooking in our household. Actually, Bill did write a book himself, a cookbook, based on all the recipes he learned from his mom growing up in Nebraska; from his travels in Latin America, India, the Middle East; and from my aunts in the Dominican Republic. The book is called The New Family Cookbook by Bill Eichner, published by Chelsea Green Publishing Company (sadly out of print***). The recipe for habichuelas below is taken from that book, and it is the one Bill learned from my aunts.

Serves: 9 to 12 (depending on whether this is used as a main dish or a side dish)
2 pounds dried pinto or Colorado beans
1 cup dried kidney beans
Bill recommends a mix of pinto or Colorado beans and kidney beans, because the habichuelas we buy in the Dominican Republic don’t really correspond to the kidney beans sold here.
1 cup cilantro or cilantrico, chopped
Cilantro is coriander, and cilantrico is the Dominican name for the fine fern-like growth of a cilantro plant just before it blossoms.

For your sofrito:
1 large onion, chopped
3 cloves of garlic, chopped
1/4 cup olive oil or canola oil
1 teaspoon crushed cumin seeds
1 teaspoon crushed coriander seeds
8 to 10 Roma tomatoes, chopped
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 teaspoon dried oregano
2 teaspoons vinegar
1 or 2 red bell peppers, chopped
black pepper, to taste

Wash the beans and soak them overnight in enough water to cover. Next morning, discard the soak water, and refill to cover by at least 1 inch. Bring the beans to a boil, and remove any scum that comes to the top. Add sofrito (you already know how to make this, see above) and simmer until the beans are almost tender, about 40 minutes (depending on the freshness of the beans).

Near the end of the cooking period, add salt and chopped cilantro or cilantrico.

Of course, habichuelas are served with rice. Tune in to the next entry to learn how Tía Lola makes rice the Dominican way.

Meanwhile, enjoy these habichuelas, and as you do, just think: around the world people are also cooking and eating beans.

© 2010 by Julia Alvarez

Julia Alvarez’ new book How Tía Lola Learned to Teach is available for purchase at Powells Books andI found several copies of her husband Bill’s out of print book at Abebooks.

Ms. Alvarez’ blog tour continues and her schedule is as follows:

10/20 http://randomactsofreading.wordpress.com/

10/21 http://teenreads.com

10/22 http://www.spanglishbaby.com

Sep

04

Mole & Potato Salad

stories  Posted by / 3 comments

I'm waiting for my mole and potato salad

I know right?  It sounds weird.

Not to Mexican households, especially mine.  I love potato salad.  Not that sickening sweet pile of mush that they sell in the grocery stores and the slightly better version sold at deli counters.  No, I love the thick, chunky, tangy almost red potato salad my grandmother Lupe would make for picnics and bbqs.  She didn’t do fried chicken.  Hey we were Mexican.  There were always hamburgers and hot dogs for the kids, chicken on the grill that my Papa Chava or some uncle would do.  Maybe even steaks, but I don’t really remember what the grownups ate.  I was there for the potato salad and my grandma Lupe’s amazing purple punch with cherries in it.  If the mole was happening, that’s when I got really happy and excited.

My Grandma’s potato salad had big chunks of just firm enough not to fall apart potato, mustard, mayo, paprika, hard boiled eggs, big pieces of diced pickle, tiny bits of chopped celery, grated onion, and lots of pitted black olives.  One of my favorite parts of helping was that I got to wear the olives on my fingers and play with them before eating.  It was all she could do to keep me from eating them all.  I always got at least ten and pretended that they were my crazy witch fingernails or Swamp Thing or whatever my fertile imagination was running with that summer.

Grandma always made tons of potato salad early in the day so that all the flavors would meld while it was still hot and have plenty of time to be cold by the time we were ready to eat.  We’d help make her purple punch (still trying to find the recipe for that one), her green limeade one and the punch she put rainbow sherbet in.  YUM.  I seriously need to find those recipes.  There’s be fruit salads and the melon ballers would be rocking in three different sizes, green salads, chile salsa, her mix of tomatoes, onions and cilantro with the pretty cilantro flowers in it and a hustle bustle of activity.  The picnic table in the patio my mother’s cousin Jackie had helped built (I still remember being scared of his hammer), the patio with our baby hand and footprints embedded into the dark green cement where shelves of potted plants were everywhere and the sweet scent of Grandma’s flowers and the bay laurel tree would drift in.  God I miss that patio.  There was nothing like sitting in it playing marbles with my Papa or embroidering dish towels with Grandma and Auntie Jessie.

If there was mole, it was one of my favorite things.  The spicy, chocolate thickness of dark red mole on tender, falling off the bone chicken meat mixed with the coolness of the potato salad was perfection.  The mole was spicy enough for the adults and we kids made sure to put lots of lemon to cut the spice and mix in the potato salad that would turn red and taste absolutely delicious.  The tang of the pickle went well with the lemon cutting through the spice and the occasional bite of egg, celery or olive added texture, crunch and interest.  It was a party on a plate.

It’s Labor Day weekend and I’m planning on making potato salad for my own grandkids today.  Will there be mole?  Absolutely.  Hot dogs too, grass fed beef hamburgers (hey it was on sale at Whole Foods) maybe some fish and definitely some icy cold fruit salad.  There will be a fig tart with ice cream and most of all there will be memories of mole and potato salad.

Aug

07

My Grandma’s Avena (Oatmeal)

breakfast / family recipes / history  Posted by / 1 comments

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.

Jul

30

A Perfect Pot of Beans

family recipes / main dishes  Posted by / 9 comments

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.

Aug

31

Daring Baker’s Challenge – Eclairs in August

baked goods / Challenges / desserts / salsa / sauces  Posted by / 2 comments

 

Jasmine really loved the chocolate glaze.

The Challenge: Chocolate Eclairs from Pierre Hermé’s book, Chocolate Desserts by Pierre Hermé.

The Hosts: Tony Tahanand/Meetak

Many, many thanks to our wonderful hosts this month. What a wonderful recipe they chose and how supportive and marvelous they were. (Insert applause here).

Hurry up Autumn, I’m getting a little tired of baking in a 100 degree kitchen and worrying I’m going to drip sweat into dough or something. This month’s challenge was Pierre Hermé’s (swoons  because I worship the pastry laden, rose petal Isapahan ground he walks on) luscious chocolate éclairs.

Did I stay true to my idol’s recipe? Um well, I changed one little thing. The cream filling was not chocolate but something summery and lighter. Lavender-orange pastry cream. The rest was true to Mr. Hermé’s recipes (is it not wonderful that he is not only a pastry God but has the same last name as that vintage buttery leather 72k handbag on ebay)? I’m just saying. Pastry, Birken…ecstasy, heaven. Okay, okay get on with the recipe. No one cares about my obsession with Hermé, both the bags and the chef. And yes, I know the bag is Hermes but its close enough for me.

Marissa dropped the kids off early and we washed up and got ready to bake. The first thing we started with was the pastry cream. It turned out perfectly, smooth, thick and lucious until i put it into its ice water bath. I turned to grab ingredients for the chocolate sauce and Aiden took the opportunity to add about a quarter cup of ice water INTO THE CREAM! Yeah, so. I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t. He’s three, he thought he was creating something wondrous and being helpful. I wanted to fix it, but I couldn’t. It was his little creation. So we had runny cream filling, so what?

 

This is when he did it

I took several deep breaths and moved onto the chocolate sauce, which was divine. Mmmmm chocolate. Jasmine and I made the glaze together. She looked at me and said, “Grammy, you’re going to put chocolate in chocolate?” and looked puzzled. When I said yes, she beamed and squealed something about chocolate and more chocolate. I agreed. Chocolate on chocolate is a marvelous thing. When it was all done, I reached for a bowl to pour it in and Jasmine quickly grabbed her favorite Barbie bowl instead. Beaming proudly, she said “Grammy that yummy chocolate can use my bowl.” So it was that Pierre Hermé’s sleek, sophisticated chocolate glaze ended up in a 99 cent pink plastic Barbie bowl. I won’t get into my militant feelings about Barbie because Jasmine can read now.

Next up the Pâte à Choux. Yeah oooooooooh. I was dubious about the whole cooked dough thing and I could tell Jasmine was too. She wanted to know why it wasn’t going straight to the Kitchen-Aid but I just shrugged and started heating the milk. When it was boiling, I handed her the cup of flour and nodded. “All of it Grammy?”, she asked. I nodded. She looked at me, her little eyes wide and then shrugged and dumped it in. Wow. I started stirred and we had a big lump of golden dough. I kept stirring to dry the dough and it did create a little crust on the bottom of the pan. Once it had been dryed enough, I transferred it to the Kitchen-aid and started mixing.

Now the crap part they don’t tell you about. Pâte à Choux is sticky, way sticky. Getting it into the pastry bag was a mess. Working with it was tough. I thought I had done something wrong, so I took a minute to chat online with a chef friend. “Is Pâte à Choux supposed to be stick?” Answer: “it has been every time I’ve worked with it” Great. Back to work. Aiden kept eating the sticky dough and I couldn’t get the gunk off my hands but managed to pipe some éclair-like blobs onto the baking sheet. I popped them into the oven and did the oven door wooden spoon trick later in the baking. They came out beautifully and puffed up proudly. Things were looking up.

 

Jasmine and Aiden were so excited they couldn’t stand it. I could barely fill the mini-eclairs and cream puffs fast enough. The lavender-orange filling was so good with all that chocolate. Marissa came home and ate several in quick succession and we both decided for the sake of our butts to take the rest of the platter over to That Yarn Store for David and the gang to munch on.

We had so much fun making these and I can’t wait till the weather is cool and we can do it again. Next time though, I’ll make cream puffs only. They held much more pastry cream and were easier to pipe.

 

Pierre Hermé’s Chocolate Éclairs
Recipe from Chocolate Desserts by Pierre Hermé
(makes 20-24 Éclairs)

• Cream Puff Dough (see below for recipe), fresh and still warm

1) Preheat your oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C). Divide the oven into thirds by
positioning the racks in the upper and lower half of the oven. Line two baking sheets with
waxed or parchment paper.

2) Fill a large pastry bag fitted with a 2/3 (2cm) plain tip nozzle with the warm cream puff dough.
Pipe the dough onto the baking sheets in long, 4 to 41/2 inches (about 11 cm) chubby fingers.
Leave about 2 inches (5 cm) space in between each dough strip to allow them room to puff.
The dough should give you enough to pipe 20-24 éclairs.

3) Slide both the baking sheets into the oven and bake for 7 minutes. After the 7 minutes, slip the
handle of a wooden spoon into the door to keep in ajar. When the éclairs have been in the
oven for a total of 12 minutes, rotate the sheets top to bottom and front to back. Continue
baking for a further 8 minutes or until the éclairs are puffed, golden and firm. The total baking
time should be approximately 20 minutes.

Notes:
1) The éclairs can be kept in a cool, dry place for several hours before filling.

Assembling the éclairs:

• Chocolate glaze (see below for recipe)
• Chocolate pastry cream (see below for recipe)

1) Slice the éclairs horizontally, using a serrated knife and a gently sawing motion. Set aside the
bottoms and place the tops on a rack over a piece of parchment paper.

2) The glaze should be barely warm to the touch (between 95 – 104 degrees F or 35 – 40
degrees C, as measured on an instant read thermometer). Spread the glaze over the tops of
the éclairs using a metal icing spatula. Allow the tops to set and in the meantime fill the
bottoms with the pastry cream.

3) Pipe or spoon the pastry cream into the bottoms of the éclairs. Make sure you fill the bottoms
with enough cream to mound above the pastry. Place the glazed tops onto the pastry cream
and wriggle gently to settle them.

Notes:
1) If you have chilled your chocolate glaze, reheat by placing it in a bowl over simmering water,
stirring it gently with a wooden spoon. Do not stir too vigorously as you do not want to create
bubbles.

2) The éclairs should be served as soon as they have been filled.

Pierre Hermé’s Cream Puff Dough
Recipe from Chocolate Desserts by Pierre Hermé
(makes 20-24 Éclairs)

• ½ cup (125g) whole milk
• ½ cup (125g) water
• 1 stick (4 ounces; 115g) unsalted butter, cut into 8 pieces
• ¼ teaspoon sugar
• ¼ teaspoon salt
• 1 cup (140g) all-purpose flour
• 5 large eggs, at room temperature

1) In a heavy bottomed medium saucepan, bring the milk, water, butter, sugar and salt to the
boil.

2) Once the mixture is at a rolling boil, add all of the flour at once, reduce the heat to medium
and start to stir the mixture vigorously with a wooden spoon. The dough comes together very
quickly. Do not worry if a slight crust forms at the bottom of the pan, it’s supposed to. You
need to carry on stirring for a further 2-3 minutes to dry the dough. After this time the dough
will be very soft and smooth.

3) Transfer the dough into a bowl of a mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, or using your
handmixer or if you still have the energy, continue by hand. Add the eggs one at a time,
beating after each egg has been added to incorporate it into the dough.
You will notice that after you have added the first egg, the dough will separate, once again do
not worry. As you keep working the dough, it will come back all together again by the time you
have added the third egg. In the end the dough should be thick and shiny and when lifted it
should fall back into the bowl in a ribbon.

4) The dough should be still warm. It is now ready to be used for the éclairs as directed above.

Notes:
1) Once the dough is made you need to shape it immediately.

2) You can pipe the dough and the freeze it. Simply pipe the dough onto parchment-lined baking
sheets and slide the sheets into the freezer. Once the dough is completely frozen, transfer the
piped shapes into freezer bags. They can be kept in the freezer for up to a month.

Chocolate Pastry Cream
Recipe from Chocolate Desserts by PierreHermé

• 2 cups (500g) whole milk
• 4 large egg yolks
• 6 tbsp (75g) sugar
• 3 tablespoons cornstarch, sifted
• 7 oz (200g) bittersweet chocolate, preferably Velrhona Guanaja, melted
• 2½ tbsp (1¼ oz: 40g) unsalted butter, at room temperature

1) In a small saucepan, bring the milk to a boil. In the meantime, combine the yolks, sugar and cornstarch together and whisk in a heavy?bottomed saucepan.

2) Once the milk has reached a boil, temper the yolks by whisking a couple spoonfuls of the hot milk into the yolk mixture.Continue whisking and slowly pour the rest of the milk into the tempered yolk mixture.

3) Strain the mixture back into the saucepan to remove any egg that may have scrambled. Place the pan over medium heat and whisk vigorously (without stop) until the mixture returns to a boil. Keep whisking vigorously for 1 to 2 more minutes (still over medium heat).Stir in the melted chocolate and then remove the pan from the heat.

4) Scrape the pastry cream into a small bowl and set it in an ice?water bath to stop the cooking process. Make sure to continue stirring the mixture at this point so that it remains smooth.

5) Once the cream has reached a temperature of 140 F remove from the ice?water bath and stir in the butter in three or four installments. Return the cream to the ice?water bath to continue cooling, stirring occasionally, until it has completely cooled. The cream is now ready to use or store in the fridge.

[bNotes:[/b]
1) The pastry cream can be made 2?3 days in advance and stored in the refrigerator.

2) In order to avoid a skin forming on the pastry cream, cover with plastic wrap pressed onto the cream.

3) Tempering the eggs raises the temperature of the eggs slowly so that they do not scramble.

Chocolate Glaze
Recipe from Chocolate Desserts by Pierre Hermé
(makes 1 cup or 300g)

• 1/3 cup (80g) heavy cream
• 3½ oz (100g) bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
• 4 tsp (20 g) unsalted butter, cut into 4 pieces, at room temperature
• 7 tbsp (110 g) Chocolate Sauce (recipe below), warm or at room temperature

1)In a small saucepan, bring the heavy cream to a boil. Remove from the heat and slowly begin to add the chocolate, stirring with a wooden spoon or spatula.

2) Stirring gently, stir in the butter, piece by piece followed by the chocolate sauce.

Notes:
1) If the chocolate glaze is too cool (i.e. not liquid enough) you may heat it briefly
in the microwave or over a double boiler. A double boiler is basically a bowl sitting over (not touching) simmering water.

2) It is best to glaze the eclairs after the glaze is made, but if you are pressed for time, you can make the glaze a couple days ahead of time, store it in the fridge and bring it up to the proper temperature (95 to 104 F) when ready to glaze.

Chocolate Sauce
Recipe from Chocolate Desserts by Pierre Hermé
(makes 1½ cups or 525 g)

• 4½ oz (130 g) bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
• 1 cup (250 g) water
• ½ cup (125 g) crème fraîche, or heavy cream
• 1/3 cup (70 g) sugar

1) Place all the ingredients into a heavy?bottomed saucepan and bring to a boil, making sure to stir constantly. Then reduce the heat to low and continue stirring with a wooden spoon until the sauce thickens.

2) It may take 10-15 minutes for the sauce to thicken, but you will know when it is done when it coats the back of your spoon.

Notes:
1) You can make this sauce ahead of time and store it in the refrigerator for two weeks. Reheat the sauce in a microwave oven or a double boiler before using.
2) This sauce is also great for cakes, ice-cream and tarts.

 

Aug

18

Arroz con pollo

chicken / family recipes / main dishes / rice  Posted by / 5 comments
Arroz con pollo

Arroz con pollo

p8180072

delicioso!

I’ve been craving my grandmother’s arroz con pollo for a couple of days now.  I’ve been a little obsessed actually.  I can’t remember when the last time I had it was, but it had to have been when I was in my teens.  I tried making it a couple of times when I was married, but it just didn’t work out.  Neither did the marriage.

Today, Marissa and the kids came by and I decided to give it a shot.  I pulled out rice, onions, garlic, red peppers, the Bijol (a Mexican spice blend), saffron and oregano.  I didn’t have peas but Marissa doesn’t like them anyway, so I figured we were good to go.

I handed Marissa the camera and got to work chopping onion into nice thick squares, slivers of garlic, rounds of red pepper.  Jasmine and Aiden started to get excited and Aiden helped pour out the oregano.  I only know my grandmother’s recipe, which is no recipe – it’s a handful of this, a bit of that, un poquito aqui, un manito aya.  I hope my readers can figure it out from the pictures and the story because this time, this time it was like my memories of a fluffy mound of golden delicately flavored rice that melted on the tongue and the tenderest, chicken falling off the bone and flavored with the soul of the crocus.  It was magical.

Arroz con pollo/Chicken with rice

One cut up chicken
Enough olive oil to coat the bottom of a large frying pan
1 onion
five cloves of garlice, sliced thinly
chopped red peppers (not the hot kind)
dos manotes de arroz (two big handfuls of rice)
a manito (little handful of oregano) I think this ended up being about a tablespoon
un poquito de saffron (a little bit of saffron) like a pinch
un poquito de Bijol (about a ¼ tsp)
salt and pepper to taste
peas (optional)
chopped tomatoes (we were out of fresh so I used a 16 oz can of stewed)
water

Coat the frying pan with olive oil and let it heat on the stove.  Not too high a flame, you don’t want smoking oil.  Just get it nice and hot.

Wash the chicken pieces and pat them dry.  Season with salt and cracked pepper.

Add the chicken to hot oil and let fry till crispy brown on one side, then turn and do the same with the other side.  It takes as long as it takes.  Use a lid or it will pop all over.

Once the chicken is browned completely, scoop it out and set it aside on a platter.

Drain the oil from that pan and pour it into another large skillet (one that has a tight fitting lid).

Add the oregano, garlic, saffron, and peppers to the same pan and deglaze it with about a cup of water.  Set that aside.

Heat up the oil in the second skillet.  Add in the onions and about two cups of long grain rice and let brown completely, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon.

When it’s all browned, add the water and spices from the deglazed pan to the rice. Add salt to taste, I’d say about a teaspoon.

Add the chicken pieces one by one, skin side up around the pan.  Add just enough water to be about a half inch from the top of the pan.  Cover, lower flame to the lowest it will go and then simmer for about 40 minutes.  The rice should be fluffy and golden and the chicken so tender it falls apart at the touch of a fork.  All the water should have been absorbed by the rice.

Serve and enjoy!

Buen provecho.