Latinfoodie

Latinfoodie

Tastings and musings on Latin American cultures and cuisines

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Woken up by María Sangrienta (aka Bloody Mary)

What better way to welcome a hot summer Sunday than with a Latin-style brunch? With the Gourmet Latino Festival kicking off June 4th at the Astor Center in Manhattan, I was able to savor some of the flavorful innovations that are happening in Latin American cuisine right now throughout the city. Led by chef Aaron

Salmon With Papalo Coconut Broth and colorful cocktails

Salmon With Papalo Coconut Broth and colorful Latino-inspired cocktails

Sanchez and other popular names  in the world of mixology, I picked up some ideas in the Mexican kitchen (ei. use an onion studded with cloves when you make home-made chicken stock ) and witnessed the creation of original cocktails inspired from traditional Latin ingredients.

The session I attended was a “Levanta Muertos” brunch seminar, a phrase ubiquitous in Latin America, that alludes to a dish or a drink that’s supposed to “wake you up from the dead” and help with your hangover.  As the first year of the festival, the turnout of people was  impressive. There was not a single seat available at the long tables set up for the diners throughout the space.  The event was well organized, although the setup of the space was a bit funky: I was limited to seeing the mixologists in action, but couldn’t really see the chef at work.

After a cheesy introduction that had the two hosts (Sanchez and Olson) playing a pair of drunkards at a bar, the event thankfully picked up. The first creation was a Maria Sangriente, or a Mexican version of the Bloody Mary. This drink was prepared by mixologist Steve Olson and had Mezcal, Tequila, hot chiles, tabasco sauce, salt and pepper as its principal ingredients. The drink was beautifully served in a tall glass with a half chile. It was a feast for the eyes and the palate. After my first swig, its lingering heat and balanced flavors made even a spice-adversed palate like my own second-guess itself. One thing Olson repeated throughout the class was that the key to making a levanta muertos successful is that you should use the same liquor you drank the night before. This he kept referring to as using the “hair of the dog” of the dog that bit you! Kind of weird, but probably true. To nibble on, the chef prepared a huitlacoche tamal with a saffron corn sauce. The tamal took the color of the huitlacoche ( it’s corn fungus), so its masa was a dark almost black color, but tasted heavenly, with a fluffy texture and sauce that was smokey and complex.

The courses that followed all had the colors, textures and heat of traditional Mexican cooking but with a refined twist. There was a Pepita Crusted Salmon in a Papalo Coconut Broth, which was paired with a drink from Phil Ward from Mayahuel restaurant in Manhattan. The drink echoed the colors of the dish as a clear peach elixir, prepared by mixing mezcal, Aperol, Maraschino and lime. The final tasting course was a Stuffed Sweet Plantain with Smoked Black Beans, Epazote and Crema Fresca. This was accompanied by a drink called the Marajoara Magic, by Danny Valdez, the most charismatic of the guests, who prepared a drink with Brazilian cachaca, Carpano Antina, Habanero peppers and Lime oil.

The session was educational and fun, but most of all, I walked out feeling not only impressed at how Latin American flavors can be, but most of all, very proud.

(I took the photos with my phone, the colors were vibrant in real life)

The Return

Hello! I am back my friends, Latinfoodie is back. I know, I know, I have been away for a while, but I’m happy to admit I’ve made some pretty cool discoveries during the past few months. I took a trip to some remote corners of the Baltics (Belgrade), found a Berlin band I love  that epitomizes nerdy-cool (The Whitest Boy Alive) and have a new-found obsession with oysters.

Which reminds me how much I love the taste of food by the ocean. When I was a little kid, I would spend summers sitting with my Dad on the hot sand, starving from hours of diving and swimming with my cousins in the warm waters of the tropical sea. We would pull oysters out of a large bucket, slice them open, squirt them with lime and slurp them down under the blazing Dominican sun.

But back to reality. After months of darkness, NYC is alive and back in full Summer swing. Sundresses and flip flops abound, and people are giddy with the heat. I guess we really are creatures of nature: nothing like a little sunshine and warm breeze to make us all feel a bit more relaxed and ready for surprises of the city during this exhilarating time of the year.

I’ve stumbled across some local discoveries that I can’t wait to share with you: from Mexican paletas to smoothies infused with latin flavors, it’s all coming to you this season.

keep your life delicious,

Latinfoodie

Alexia’s Pastelón

IMG_3548This is the moment you’ve been waiting for.

Throughout the past 5 days, I’ve gotten many requests for this recipe. Although we are now in the December holiday territory, I urge you to make this sweet potato casserole, or pastelón in Dominican. I got the recipe from my cousin Alexia whom I love with all my heart.(gracias alexia!) Now, it is in your hands my friends. All I can say is that once you make this, prepare to be loved, your holidays will never be quite the same again.

Alexia’s Thanksgiving Pastelón

3 cups mashed sweet potatoes
1 cup sugar
½ cup butter
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla*
½ can of evaporated milk
Ground cinnamon*
Pancake syrup*

Peal the sweet potatoes, cut in quarters and boil in salted water for approx 30 minutes or until soft. Drain and mash slowly with a fork. Add the butter, sugar, evaporated milk, vanilla, cinnamon, maple syrup and the egg yolks.
Beat the egg whites and fold in the mixture. Place in baking dish.
Cover with the topping below.

Topping:
½ cup brown sugar
¼ cup all purpose flour
2 1/2 teaspoons butter (hard)
½ cup chopped walnuts
Ground cinnamon

Bake at 350F for approx. 30 minutes.

* Means: “al ojo” or approximate measurements

Marshmallow woman

When you think of Thanksgiving, what is the first thing that comes to mind? For me it’s a can of jellied cranberry, which I thought was the best cranberry sauce in the world. It is when I moved to the northeastern U.S. that I suddenly started thinking twice about it, and eventually got more snobby with my cranberry sauce, choosing more natural interpretations that could be traced back to the actual fruit. What I finally realized was that what I had been serving with turkey all those years, was a far cry from the deep burgundy sauce prepared in kitchens all over the country with sugar, water, spices and of course cranberries.

In the Dominican Republic, unless you’re somehow linked to the U.S.(have family here, have studied here, have an American spouse, etc), Thanksgiving is not a popular holiday. In my home though, the celebration was welcome every year. Mom instituted the tradition after celebrating it herself with her own family. Although the stories were always nebulous, I gathered that her father, my grandfather, had lived in Puerto Rico and had himself adopted the tradition.

Decades later, my kitchen in Santo Domingo buzzed whenever Turkey day would come along. My aunt Tiita took over one of the counters, mixing her secret “Russian” potato salad adding a little of this and a little of that until it was just perfect. Mom pulled out the glistening golden turkey for one last baste. Plantain pasteles filled with shredded chicken boiled in a huge pot. Piping hot rice with kidney beans (moro) was scooped into a huge bowl, sweet potato casserole with marshmallows toasted in the oven.

The table was set. The feast was underway. I had the task of slicing the cranberry “sauce”. I loved the feel of my knife going through the shiny jelly shaped like its can. I loved how each ring was equal to the next and I took pride in lining them up, each one resting on the next. Then families and friends who had gathered on the terrace enjoying the (hopefully) cooler breezes of November and laughing and drinking would gather round the table. My Mom would give thanks, her spirit as bright as her blond bob. We would dig into the spread of American and Dominican dishes, and forget that these moments existed only for that day.

In our minds, they would always come again, they would last forever.

Latin Thanksgiving Dessert

If you’re looking to serve something special this Thanksgiving, try your hand at the “Cuatro Leches” dessert. It’s a lovely interpretation of the classic “Tres Leches” treat renowned throughout South America. In this version, the fourth milk comes from “dulce de leche”, a milk caramel spread popular in Argentina (I buy mine at Eli’s Vinegar Factory, but think you can also find it at Zabar’s or other gourmet food shops). I’ve made this recipe over and over again and always get rave reviews. I plan to make it in a few days for the holiday. Try it out too!

Pastel de Cuatro Leches

2 tsp. butter
1 tbsp. plus 2 cups flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1 1⁄2 tsp. fine salt
6 eggs, at room temperature, separated
1 1⁄4 cups sugar
1 1⁄2 cup whole milk
1 1⁄2 tbsp. dark rum
1 tbsp. vanilla extract
1 14-oz. can sweetened condensed milk
1 12-oz. can evaporated milk
1 16-oz. jar dulce de leche (milk caramel)

1. Heat the oven to 350°. Grease a 9″ × 13″ baking pan with the butter and dust with 1 tbsp. of the flour. Invert the dish, tap out the excess flour, and set aside.

2. Sift the remaining flour, baking powder, and salt into a bowl and set aside. Put the egg whites into a large bowl and beat with a hand-held electric mixer on medium speed until soft peaks form, about 2 minutes. While the mixer is still running, add the sugar in a gradual stream and continue beating again to soft peaks. Add the egg yolks one at a time, beating well after each addition. Alternately add the reserved flour mixture and 1/2 cup of whole milk in 3 parts, beating until smooth after each addition. Add the rum and vanilla and beat again briefly until smooth.

3. Pour batter into reserved baking pan and bake until golden brown, about 30 minutes. Set the cake aside and let cool slightly for 30 minutes.

4. Whisk together the sweetened condensed milk, evaporated milk, and remaining milk in a bowl. Using a knife, poke the cake with holes all over, penetrating to the bottom of the pan. Pour the milk mixture over the warm cake and set aside to let cool completely.

5. Cover the cake with plastic wrap and refrigerate until well chilled and liquid is absorbed, at least 4 hours. Spread the dulce de leche across the top of the cake and serve.

This article has been adapted from Saveur magazine’s Issue #108, find the original recipe here

Turtle Stew and Chicharrón

At first glance, you may think this pairing comes straight out of Bizarre Foods. However, at Luz Restaurant in the Cayman Islands, these two dishes are bestsellers on the menu. Staples of the Caymanian and Honduran kitchens come together in this casual Georgetown eatery which serves traditional Caymanian fare like turtle stew and stewed conch and a list of Honduran delicacies like garnaches (corn tortillas topped with cheese, cabbage and beans), chicharrón con yuca(fried pork rinds with yucca), and carne asada (roast beef). On my last trip to this sunny sanctuary, I learned about the important Honduran presence in the Caymans and that people from the Bay Islands of Honduras have been crossing the Caribbean Sea and settling in the Cayman Islands for years.

It started in the 40’s and 50’s, when local Caymanians traveled to the English-speaking Bay Islands by catboats for food and resources limited by the arid local soil. Located about 145 nautical miles away, they were easily accessible. The Bay Islands’ history includes many disputes between Spain and England during colonial times, so much so that English is mostly spoken here despite the fact that Spanish is the official language of Honduras.

To Caymanians, Spanish is synonimous with people from Honduras. It’s incredible to think how Latin America is alive in the most unexpected of places.

Watercress Salad Video

Hi friends!

I’m excited to share with you the first Latinfoodie Video Blog. Go ahead and tell me what you think, and look out for our next webisode. We’ll continue to feature delicious recipes from kitchens all over Latin America.

¡Buen provecho!

Sip Your Cherries

picture-3

Rainier cherries for the cooler

It’s been a wet summer. The sun came out today first time this week. I packed a tote and ran to the park, trying to beat the rain. Now I lay here and feel it on my arms, along with ripened mulberries that fall around me like confetti. Above me a squirrel feasts away. On days like these, I crave something sunny and bright to lift me up and take me back to the sticky summers in the Dominican Republic, playing  outside the whole day and cooling off with a vigorous dip in the neighborhood pool. It also  reminds me of fruit from home: guanábana -soursop- green and spiky with white creamy flesh, mangoes from Baní bright and sweet as candy, cherries, tiny tart and tangy that we used to blend into juice.  Inspired by care-free days and Mexican Aguas Frescas(refreshing drinks of fruit and water), I’ve taken plump Rainier cherries bursting with antioxidants and vitamin C, and prepared something that cools you off and lifts you up, perfect for those rainy summer days.

Cherry Cooler

Ingredients:

  • 1 cup of cherries (your favorite kind will do)
  • 2 cups of drinking water
  • 1 tablespoon sugar
  • ice

Preparation:

Pit cherries(I smash them with the side of a knife and pull the pits out). Blend with water and sugar. Pass through strainer to remove skin. Pour over a glass full of ice. Cheers!

So you think you can Cuban?

I don’t know what it is about the media these days that has me finding inspiration in the most random of places. This week I began watching one of my favorite shows of all time: So you think you dance? Alright alright, I’m a total  fan. There, I said it. 

In search for something to eat that would get my taste buds moving, I decided to visit Margon Restaurant, a tiny, loud Cuban eatery located in Midtown, on 46th street and 6th Avenue. Undettered by the unassuming entrance, I went inside and found myself in what at first seemed like a comfort food haven. On the left side of this small space was a cornucopia of trays brimming with beef stew, roasted chicken, red beans, yellow and white rice, plantains, octopus and avocado salads, and other Cuban classics. 

The place was buzzing with regulars, young preppy employees from nearby offices, tough-looking construction workers seeking to refuel on their break, and a couple of adventurous tourists finishing their coffee and flans while studying maps of the city. The place was definitely alive and vibrant with energy, people in line, ordering, eating, waiting for empty seats, talking and laughing. This place is a far cry from a restaurant, it’s more like a cafeteria, but is somewhere you can easily become a regular, offering simple, hearty home-cooked Latin fare.

Although the food seemed every bit authentic at first, transporting me to some forgotten spot in Miami’s Little Havana, the overall experience left me disappointed. I ordered the roasted chicken, white rice, red beans and maduros(sweet ripe plantains). The food was served not in a plate, but in an aluminum container. Had they run out of plates? 

The rice was fresh and red beans creamy and delicious, but the roasted chicken was swimming in an oily mess and the avocado was overly mushy and past its prime. Everybody else around me didn’t seem to mind, however. It is a place where you don’t have to worry about being too loud, where you can easily disappear into the crowd. 

I had read about Margon on www.midtownlunch.com, a blog that deemed it a culinary institution, raving about its Cuban sandwich and fruit shakes. I didn’t get the chance to taste either of these and perhaps I’ll have to if I ever go back. In the meantime, I’ll stick to giving my palate a whirl with my own versions of Cuban at home.

Puerto Rican Soul

 

Some of the ingredients for the sofrito

Some of the ingredients for the sofrito

To celebrate the Latin American spirit on Capitol Hill, infuse your dishes with a Caribbean kick. Try sofrito, the secret to the aromatic, flavorful cuisine from Puerto Rico. Sofrito resembles the holy trinity of Italian cuisine(onion, carrot, celery) in that it is the beginning of many dishes, but adds cilantro and culantro, herbs evocative of Latin America kitchens. Sofrito, also known as recaíto, is the essence of Puerto Rican cuisine: from stews to rice to casseroles, it imparts the complex flavors that characterizes much of this Caribbean fare–warm, aromatic, pungent and fruity.

In search of an authentic sofrito recipe, I made my way up to La Fonda Boricua, a Puerto Rican institution located in the heart of El Barrio in East Harlem. Here I ordered a dish of stewed goat (chivo guisado) and rice with pigeon peas(arroz con  güandules) with an avocado salad. The meat, to my dismay, was tough and excessively gamey, but its sauce was vibrant and perfumed with herbs and peppers, rounding out the nuttiness of the rice with its sweetness. 

Jorge Ayala, chef of La Fonda has shared his recipe of sofrito. Use it as a marinade for your favorite chicken or rice dishes, or any time you want to vary the flavors of your homemade meal. 

 

Sofrito(from Jorge Ayala of La Fonda Boricua)

1  cup chopped white onion

1 cup chopped green pepper

1 cup chopped red pepper

4 garlic cloves

1/4 cup cilantro leaves

1/4 cup culantro leaves

Blend all ingredients and add to ice tray. Freeze and use one cube per dish.