son phillip

Mar

05

Utah – What a Long, Strange Trip It’s Been

stories  Posted by / 0 comments
Each day the sky surprises me
2010 11 30 10.40.25 1024x768 Utah What a Long, Strange Trip Its Been

Arriving in SLC

I love that song by The Grateful Dead, What A Long Strange Trip It’s Been. My life summed up by a song title. What does it have to do with food? Well, I’ll tell you.

You may have noticed there’s not been much on Dona Lupe’s in a while. A couple of months actually. That’s because I moved to Utah for work and it’s been an adjustment to say the least.

I’m a California girl through and through. I’ve lived all over these United States and even in Mexico, but L.A. Is my home. The sunshine, beaches, mountains, the hills of Silverlake all make me feel complete. I love the smog, the traffic, the crazy grittiness of Hollywood and the placidity and family feeling of the little town of Eagle Rock where my grandchildren live, where I lived for years.

I arrived in Utah on a cold December day. There was about five feet of snow on the ground and as I walked out to my taxi with my son Phillip, I looked around and thought to myself, “Oh crap what the hell did I do?” This was SNOW. It was pretty and certainly not the first time I’d seen it having lived in New York City, but damn this was a refresher course in COLD.

I’m older now too, joints hurt when its cold particularly my fingers and knees. Yes I am loading up on Glucosamine lol and stretching a lot, doing Yoga and walking, yes walking through snowy streets.

We’ve been staying in an extended stay hotel until I find an apartment and on days it is not snowing, I walk the mile and a half to work and back. I’ve come to love those crisp walks. It wakes me up better than any cup of coffee and it’s great exercise. The hotel boasts a kitchenette with two electric burners, a sink and a microwave. No oven. I feel the snowy weekends are going to waste with no baking. I’ve become an expert in what I call commando cooking: using only two burners, cooking on a dreaded electric stove (I prefer a flame to red glowing rings) climbing up on a chair to reach the microwave and trudging through snow to find Mexican ingredients.

I’ve learned that when I hear rumbling at 4 or 5 am, it means the snow plows are out clearing the roads, that I can walk around in 40 degree weather without a coat and think, “it’s a nice day today”, you CANNOT trudge around in Ugg boots in slushy snow, that salt ruins leather and that a scarf is my best friend. I have yet to solve the mystery of why in Utah, in the midst of incredibly cold days and snow, everyone goes out and gets ice cream. Seriously, I’m fascinated by the obsession with shakes, sundaes and other ice cream concoctions here. All I ever wanted was hot chocolate, but lately, I’ve been craving a milk shake lol.

There’s a big Latino population here in Salt Lake and I’ve found quail, delicious purple tortillas made from purple corn, strawberry tamale masa and lots of the comforts of home. Beyond that, I’ve fallen in love with the people here and the amazing sky. People are just incredibly nice, friendly and helpful and I’ve made some good friends in a short time.

2010 12 06 14.30.03 768x1024 Utah What a Long, Strange Trip Its Been

Each day the sky surprises me

In two weeks, I’ll have a real kitchen again because yay, I’ve found a nice apartment and will be moving soon. So stay tuned for more in a few weeks. I’ll be blogging my triumphs and disasters, locations to find good, authentic ingredients here in Salt Lake and stories about learning to live with the weather. There’s no snow on the ground these days in March, but we’re expecting some on Tuesday. The photos won’t be perfect, because I lost my camera along the way but I’m working to get a new one and hopefully, the photos will get better soon.

2010 11 30 10.42.02 1024x768 Utah What a Long, Strange Trip Its Been

Taken from the taxi to the hotel

*These photos were taken on my Samsung Galaxy 4G phone I won from The Posada Foundation, Sprint and LATISM.

Oct

13

Gorditas

family recipes / main dishes  Posted by / 2 comments

fryinggorditas 1024x768 Gorditas

I haven’t made gorditas in years and I’m not quite sure why.  I always loved them as a kid and their open faced counterpart, the sope or sopito.  Thick corn tortillas cooked on a griddle, then sliced open, deep fried and stuffed full of meat, beans, lettuce, tomatoes, salsa and cheese was heaven on a plate.  Hearty and delicious fare that filled me up and made me sleepy afterwards.  I love all the textures and flavors of them, the crispy thickness of the dense corn tortilla, the chewiness of meat, the soft beans and the freshness of the cold vegetables.  My mouth is watering writing this and I’ve just finished one!  And yes, I am laughing at myself…

Gorditas can be filled with just about anything.  Beans, meat, chicharrones in green chile – the possibilities and variations are endless.  Today I am making them stuffed with ground pork, refried beans with cheese and the chopped tomato, onion and cilantro mix I love so much.  I made salsa de molcajete too and I know my son Phillip will add a dollop of crema and sprinkle his with a little queso cotija like he always does.  Any way you have them, they are so good.  Decadent good.
slicegordita 300x162 GorditasSome of that decadence comes from LARD.  Yes, that’s right I said LARD.  Look, you can add vegetable shortening or olive oil or whatever you like to try and make a healthier alternative and it will work, even be good but there is no substitute for the piggy taste of lard.  You don’t make gorditas every day, heck I haven’t made them in years so my philosophy is this: if you’re gonna do it – do it up right.  Use the lard!  It’s just a bit and sure, it will clog  your arteries a bit but add a bit more chile to burn it out.  Live a little and then put away the recipe for a year or two.

gordita 300x204 GorditasMy grandmother made gorditas like no one else could.  Her swift hands made fast work of forming them while some of us used a tortilla press to get them perfectly round and of equal thickness.  Her hands worked gracefully, almost in musical rhythm and she never missed a beat.  Her gorditas were perfectly round, all uniform in size and all of the same thickness.  I still can’t do that, though I get the taste just right.  Watching her was like watching a magician and I would sit on my little red chair with my elbows on the table, chin in hands just admiring and daydreaming of the day I’d be standing at that stove making perfect bits of delicious roundness.

Well, I never could get them as perfect as hers anymore than I can get all the peel off an orange in one long curl like she did but they sure taste like hers and eating them again makes me all the more determined to get it right next time without using a tortilla press.  Some things never change though and when I see my grandchildren watching me at the stove, I know they are daydreaming of being the one at the stove making magic.

Gorditas

For the masa:
2 cups Maseca (corn flour)
1/4 cup white flour
2 tsps baking powder
1/3 tsp of salt
1 1/2 cup of warm water
1/4 cup of lard (or vegetable shortening)

Mix the maseca, the flour, salt and baking powder in a bowl.  Add the lard or shortening and the warm water.  Mix until the dough is smooth and can be formed into a ball.  Divide into balls and keep covered with a damp cloth.

Either using a tortilla press or shaping with your hands, make the gorditas in about a 4 inch diameter about 1/4 inch thick.

Heat the gorditas on a hot griddle or comal until cooked on each side.

Slice each cooked gordita almost to the end but keeping it together, forming a kind of pocket.  Some people don’t make the cut until it’s fried, but I like the insides crispy too.

Deep fry the gorditas in oil  until golden brown and drain on paper towels.

Stuff the pockets with any filling you like.  Beans, shredded beef, carnitas, chicharonnes in green salsa,  queso fresco, scrambled eggs with nopales, etc.

Sep

07

Fig and Custard Tart

baked goods / desserts  Posted by / 0 comments

figtart1 1024x710 Fig and Custard Tart

I have the little fig tree that could growing in our backyard.  This place we moved into had been left in disrepair and the yard was buried under 6 foot tall weeds and dry brush.  My son Phillip and my roommate David took turns with the weed whacker and one day, we found a fig tree.  It was small, literally buried under weeds, bone dry and yet it was brimming with little green figs.  My heart stopped.  I LOVE figs.

Growing up, whenever we’d go to my Tia Luz’ house she’d have peaches and figs fresh from her trees and they were always so delicious.  Like eating warm candy when you picked them from the tree.  She’d always send my grandmother over baskets full of delicious black mission figs and whenever they’d show up, I’d be jumping up and down dying to get one into my mouth.

We weeded around the little tree, watered it faithfully and it astounded us with it’s bounty.  At first, it was giving about a pound a day which disappeared as soon as we’d pick them.  The following week it was giving about two pounds a day and I made jam.  Just the other day, I went out and picked at least ten pounds.  I sent five of those pounds to a friend in Chicago and we’re still brimming with figs.  More jam is planned.  I want to try a fig marmalade with lemon rind.  The grandkids were here and I felt like making pastry, so I thought, “why not a tart?”

My recipes called for custard with the tart but I wanted something lighter and then I found a Greek-based custard recipe here with one of my fellow Foodbuzz Featured Publishers.  It was almost what I wanted, but of course I changed it.  I can’t help myself.  Can never leave a recipe alone.

I used Julia Child’s perfect pie crust recipe because it’s my favorite flaky pie dough and is uber simple.  I didn’t use honey for the custard, I used a syrupy balsamic with agua de azahares (orange flower water) and tangerine zest.  I loved the tart but the next time I make it, I’ll slice the figs thinner like I would for a French Apple Tart.  I halved these and while it was good and everyone loved it, it was a little much.

Custard (adapted from Gastronomer’s Guide)

2 pounds ripe black Mission Figs, sliced
16 ounces of plain Greek yogurt
3 eggs
1/4 cup sugar plus 2 tablespoons
3 tablespoons balsamic cream plus more to drizzle on figs
Zest of two tangerines or oranges
1 tsp. Orange flower water

Mix together the yogurt, eggs and 1/4 cup of the sugar till well blended.  Add the balsamic creme, tangerine zest and orange flower water and mix.  If the mixture seems runny, don’t worry it will set just fine.

Pour the mixture into a pre-baked tart shell – I used a large oval baking dish so if you are using a smaller one you will have enough batter for two possibly.  Arrange the sliced figs all over the custard, slightly layering them.  Drizzle more balsamic cream over the figs and sprinkle with the remaining two tablespoons of sugar.  Bake in a 350 degree oven for 30 minutes or until the custard is set and the crust and figs are well browned.

Allow tart to cool for about 15-20 minutes before serving to give the custard time to set firmly and the juices from the figs to soak in.  Serve warm.

Aug

13

Isis’ Impromptu Tea Party

parties  Posted by / 1 comments

Cake 1024x768 Isis Impromptu Tea Party

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.

isis3 300x225 Isis Impromptu Tea Party

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.

isis2 300x225 Isis Impromptu Tea Party

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.

Teaparty 300x225 Isis Impromptu Tea Party

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.

teaparty1 300x225 Isis Impromptu Tea Party

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).

letozzyeatcake 300x225 Isis Impromptu Tea Party

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.

teaparty3 300x225 Isis Impromptu Tea Party

Even the big boys come to our tea parties

Aug

11

Omelettes

breakfast  Posted by / 2 comments

SDC10599 1024x768 Omelettes

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.”

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