frugality

Nov

22

Waste Not, Want Not

soup  Posted by / 0 comments

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.

Sep

05

Alegrias, a Traditional Mexican Treat

Aztec Herbs / desserts  Posted by / 5 comments

Amaranth

Amaranth or amaranto in Spanish is an ancient grain.  For the Aztec/Mexica people, it was a staple along with corn and beans.  Some amaranth species are considered to have a 30% higher protein value than cereals like rice, wheat flour and oats.

This nutritious food was actually outlawed by the Spanish during the conquest of Mexico so I take great pleasure in eating it just on principle.  Don’t get me started on the Conquista…but the people were absolutely forbidden to cultivate it or consume it.  It is reported to contain between 75% and 87% of total human nutritional requirements!  The Mexica were so cognizant of its high nutritional value that The Mendocino Codez indicates that over 4,000 tons of it arrived every year in the captial city of Tenochitlan.

The grain isn’t the only good part of the Amaranth plant.  The leaves are spinach-like and absolutely delicious.  In Ancient Mexico, they were often a part of tamales and still are to this day in certain parts of Mexico.  I use them in tamales, salads, cook them like spinach and have even used them in a quiche, that’s how versatile they are.

I find whole amaranth stalks at Mexican markets, the grain I find in the bulk section at Whole Foods Market.  I’m also working on growing it in raised beds for next summer.  We moved into the Camellia house too late to start a summer garden, but I’m determined to have a full veggie/herb garden by next year.

Amaranth is an essential part of my pantry and I’m always looking for new ways to cook it.  I make sure to always feed it to the grandkids when they are here just so they get that high nutritional content.  I mean seriously this grain is a POWERHOUSE.  It has protein, vitamins like A, B, C, B1, B2, B3, minerals like calcium, phosphorus and iron.  It has a high amino acid content as well.

Dating back from Aztec times is the ubiquitous (in Mexico) Alegria candy.  Alegria means happiness and I know these Rice Krispy-like treats make us happy here at home.  The ingredients are simple and it’s fun to make.  Toasted amaranth grain, pecans, piloncillo, lemon juice and water.  Thats all it takes to make a candy that is pleasing and fun for the kids, economical and packed with nutrition.  It beats the heck out of Rice Krispy treats that are packed with sugar and lacking in nutrition.  Oh and one more thing for my gluten-free friends, amaranth is absolutely lacking in gluten!

Alegrias

3 c. toasted amaranth grains
2 lbs, piloncillo (Mexican cane sugar cones)
4 cups of water
Juice of two lemons
Chopped pecans

Toast the amaranth grains in a heavy skillet on a medium flame until they pop.  They pop like popcorn so I recommend using a bacon grease screen.  You want them very lightly toasted, don’t let it burn.  Pour into a large heat-resistant bowl or a big pot.

In a saucepan bring the water to a boil and add in the piloncillo cones and lemon juice.  Lower the heat and simmer for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally until thickened enough to where a little ball forms if you drip a bit of the syrup into a glass of water.   When that happens, stir a bit more then remove from the heat.

Carefully pour the hot syrup over the amaranth grain and stir it in slowly, making sure it’s completely mixed through.  Add in the chopped pecans and mix well.  I use a wooden spoon and mix it quickly as it cools fast.

Scoop into a square cake pan (in Mexico there are special squares made of wood for it) and smooth it from side to side.  Use a rolling pin with no handles or a bottle to roll across and press down to make sure it’s packed tight and even.

Cut into squares with a wet knife and let cool.  You’ll have to wet the knife after each cut to prevent sticking.  Once the alegrias are cooled, serve just like a puffed rice treat.  My grandkids love eating them with a big glass of cold milk.

Buen provecho!

*Photo by Kurt Stueber licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution ShareAlike 3.0 License.

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.