1.31.2009

In Your Neighborhood

Maryann, that sweet and fabulous home cook from Finding La Dolce Vita, has pointed out to me that it's hard to find authentic Mexican cheese in the Hudson River Valley, New York, where she lives. She might have a point, though it probably won't be that way for long. If you look closely enough, Mexicans are now found almost everywhere in America—even in Manhattan, where some of my peeps are busy cooking up a little boeuf bourguignon in the kitchens of those fancy French restaurants (you really didn't think that celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain does all that cooking by himself, now did you? By his own admission, he's too busy helping himself to barbequed goat in Puebla, Mexico.) And look out my friends who hail from the South East and the Midwest—I am happy to inform you that your cultural and culinary world just got a little more delicious, because these warm, hardworking people are moving to your towns, too! (Don't be alarmed—you'll be just fine.)

So, if you see someone who looks a lot like me walking around your neighborhood, just stop her and say hello. If you don't speak Spanish just repeat this ultra-simple phrase, "DOHN-deh "Eye" KEH'-soh Meh-hee-CAHN-noh?"—"Where do you find Mexican cheese?" (Don't worry about sounding ridiculous. How in the world are you going to learn to speak Spanish otherwise?) Once she realizes that you mean no harm, but are an actual fan of her native cuisine, she will reward you with a friendly smile and will happily point you in the direction of the nearest Mexican cheese. Who knows? You two just might hit off, and the next thing you know, you are invited over for lunch. Woo-hoo!

Once you are inside her aromatic kitchen, she might serve you a rich complex molé, or a carne asada taco in a fresh homemade corn tortilla—or she might serve you this simple little dish of sautéed zucchini with fresh tomatoes and chili peppers—"comida de casa"—comfort food of the highest order that you probably will never see on the menu of a Mexican restuarant. What can be more satisfying and healthful than some warm vegetables, especially on a cold winter's day? Isn't amazing how something that you put together almost as an afterthought can taste so good? You can use just about any vegetable you might have lying around in your refrigerator. Well, perhaps not just any vegetable come to think of it. Turnips or rutabagas would not do at all. I don't have anything against them really, it's just that I don't think they go well with tomatoes and chilies—it's sort of like listening to actor Sean Connery singing a Mexican song in his Scottish burr, if you can only imagine--well, let's not. But zucchinis—or calabacitas—"little squashes", sautéed in a bit of corn oil together with garlic and chopped white onion and bits of your favorite fresh chili pepper, now that's la combinación perfecta. Now throw in some juicy chopped tomatoes, or even your favorite red salsa into the mix, and cooking it until the calabacitas are tender. Then, just before you bring the bowl to the table, put some grated Oaxaca cheese in it. Watch as it melts over the tomato-y little goodness.


My favorite way of eating this simple homey little dish is when I have it the next morning with my fried eggs and pinto beans. Not your typical breakfast, it's true, but if your Mexican friend cooks this up for you, then you're more than just a friend—you're familia.


Calabacitas (Zucchinis) With Chile and Tomato


You can make as much or as little as you want of this comforting dish. Remember, measurements need not be precise, so feel free to improve with this fool-proof recipe. Sliced fresh Poblano chili peppers are traditional, but using any other chili pepper is fine. For this dish I used an Anahiem chili, which is a great introduction for chili boot camp.


What you need:


Any skillet or pot with a well-fitting lid, whether large or small, depending on how much of this recipe you are cooking


Cooking utensils such as chopping knife, cutting board and large spoon


Ingredients:


1 or 2 tablespoons corn oil, or more, depending on how much of this recipe you are making


Fresh zucchini—1 or 2 for a small amount, 3 or 4 for a medium amount, 5 or more for a large amount, chopped or sliced any way you like


Chopped white onions—about 1 small onion, or more depending on your taste


1 or 2 cloves minced garlic, or more, if you like


1 or more chili peppers, sliced cross-wise, or cut into long strips. Remove the seeds.


3 or more juicy tomatoes, finely chopped; OR, your favorite red salsa, preferably homemade, but who's looking?


Pinch of oregano to taste

About one heaping tablespoon, or more, chopped fresh cilantro


Salt and pepper to taste


Grated Oaxaca cheese (preferred), or Jack or mozzarella cheese


First of all, make sure that you have enough salsa or chopped tomatoes for this recipe. If your tomatoes are not juicy enough, it is perfectly acceptable to add a little tomato sauce. This recipe is meant to be moist, but not watery.


Over medium heat, sauté onion, chopped or sliced chili peppers, and zucchini and in oil until the onion is just golden. Lower heat to medium-low and add minced garlic. Continue sautéing until the onion is a nice golden brown.


Next, add the oregano, cilantro, the diced tomatoes and/or the salsa. Lower heat to low and cover and continue cooking until the tomatoes and/or salsa "melt" and blend with the rest of the ingredients and the zucchini is nice and tender. (Note: If the dish is too watery, cook uncovered for a few minutes until it is as moist or as "dry" as you like.) Add salt and pepper to taste. Top with grated Oaxaca cheese, or mozzarella or Jack.


Variation: Take some corn kernels that are either fresh, or some frozen corn that has been thawed, and add them when you add the zucchini. You can also add a little chopped cabbage, too, if you want.


Tastes oh-so-good the next day.

1.15.2009

Say Si to Real Mexican Cheese

Please do as our Mexican-born cousins and eat only authentic cheeses on your Mexican recipes. Why? If I may be allowed to damn with faint praise, using anything else is just eh. Cheddar or colby cheese? Good for mac n' cheese, only so-so on authentic Mexican food, especially when it is so smothered with the stuff you can hardly taste the forrest for the cheese. And please don't even mention gooey nacho flavored "cheese product" that is just one molecule away from plastic in my delicate presence, porque me voy a morir--because I'll die if you do.

Taste these quesos and see for yourself that they are just perfect for the strong flavors of Mexican food. Somehow they just go together in a beautiful ballad of heat and cool, salty and sweet that makes me want take in all of that chili-laden flavored deliciousness until I can have no more. If you are mystified as to what is the right cheese to put on enchiladas and other Mexican dishes, then look no further. Here is a list of some excellent Mexican cheeses that, while no means complete, will make you say bye-bye to radioactive nacho-cheese poison:



COTIJA (coh-tee΄hah): A white cheese that is dry and grainy, salty, sometimes with the texture of feta. Like Parmesan, it has a strong aroma with a sharp flavor. It tastes oh so sabroso grated over refried beans or a large platter of enchiladas, in salads, soups, on tostadas and tacos. It also available pre-grated for added convenience.
QUESO FRESCO (keh-so fres´coh): In Spanish it means "fresh cheese". It is also known as queso casero and queso ranchero. Slightly grainy in texture, it is part-skim and more delicate tasting. Its slightly salty, slightly sweet flavor is perfect crumbled over beans, or enchiladas, in salads, soups or tostadas. If cotija is too strong for your palate, then queso fresco is the way to go. Some say that feta cheese is a good substitute, but I disagree. Feta is much saltier than queso fresco.
PANELA (pah-nel´a): A semi-soft, cool, delicately flavored, part-skim cheese. It is smooth textured and, like queso fresco, is the perfect accompaniment for the hottest chili sauces and salsas. Just cut it up in wedges and serve it to your guests. For a quick snack or pick-me-up, just put some in a hot corn tortilla with a bit of super hot salsa. Or, eat it with a piece of fruit. I don't know about you, but I'm hopelessly in love with panela.


QUESO CREMOSO (keh´so creh-moh´soh): A rather soft and creamy cheese with a high fat content.


QUESO ENCHILADO(keh´soh en-chee-lah´doh): (See top picture.) This lovely cheese is coated with chili powder and is crumbly and semi-soft, but firm. Don't let its fiery exterior fool you—the inside is as mild as can be. It is a good topping for tacos, beans, or salads.



QUESO QUESADILLA (keh´soh keh-sah-dee´yah): Okay, this is it—the perfect cheese for all of those Mexican dishes, like chiles rellenos and quesadillas that call for a cheese that melts beautifully. It's a nice topping for nachos or if you prefer melted cheese over your enchiladas. Once you taste it, you will forget that ghastly orange stuff for all time. Also available with bits of roasted chili peppers.



ASADERO (Ah-sah-deh´roh): With the same properties as queso quesadilla, but stronger tasting.



QUESO REQUESON (keh´soh reh-keh-sohn´): The Mexican ricotta cheese. Stuff a chile relleno with this cheese and cubed queso quesadilla. After eating one, I think you can die happy now. QUESO OAXACA (keh´soh huah-hah´kah) This cheese is braided into a cute ball and melts easily. When served fresh, it is just like string cheese. Similar to mozzarella cheese, but a little more flavorful. I love it in soup or over some calabacitas (zucchini) with tomato and poblanos.

What I especially love about these cheeses is that contain only milk, salt and enzymes—that means nada artificial ingredients and colors. Arriba!


Where to buy them? Right in the cheese section of your grocery store. If it doesn't carry them, then talk to your grocer and ask him or her to order some for you. Better yet, go across the tracks to the other side of town and shop for them at the Mexican foods market. (For those readers who are not familiar with Mexican markets, you will find foods that you will never find in a regular supermarket. (Prickly pears, anyone?) If all else fails and you cannot find these sabrosisimos cheeses, well, perhaps Monterey Jack, feta, or any Italian style cheese, such as parmesan, ricotta, or mozzarella will have to do I suppose.

Just make sure it's an honest piece of queso.

1.01.2009

Mexican Chicken Soup, Or The Tragic Tale of The Demon Rooster

If you think I'm going to recount a happy tale where my Mexican mother served me this chicken soup with its clear delicately flavored broth with corn on the cob(!) with potatoes, zucchini and a wonderful green squash named chayote whenever I got sick with the cold, where she cooled my childish fevered brow and sang me sweet Spanish lullabies as she held me in her arms, you are most sadly mistaken.

Because whenever any of us had a cold and my mother needed some chicken for caldo de pollo—Mexican style chicken soup, there was no need to pick up a cut-up fryer in a neat little package at the local supermarket. All she had to do was ask my dad to head out to the back of the property with his cuchillote (coo-chi-yo'teh)—big fat knife in hand, grab one of the chickens, usually the rooster who was the meanest of the bunch, and cut its uppity little head clean off.


And thus begins this grisly tale of murder, mayhem and good food. If you are of a person of squeamish weak-stomached sensibilities, read no further. If not, then by all means read on, but be afraid, be very afraid, especially if your name is El Gallo Grillo, The Demon Rooster who became the best Mexican Chicken Soup I have ever tasted.


How was El Grillo to know that cool bright January morning in 1977 that this day of all days was to be his last? It seemed no different than any other day. Donning his resplendent robe of iridescent black plumage, he did the sort of things that any tall, handsome Andalusian Cock of the Walk would do: strutting around el corral like a mariachi singer while loudly "proclaiming" his undying love for himself, romancing his harem of hens who followed him like brainless groupies, and his favorite past time of all: attacking any animal, vegetable or mineral who dared intrude upon his domain or challenged his barnyard sovereignty.


How I wish that my father had done to him what he usually did to other outlaw roosters: get them drunk on cheap tequila to perform a crude but necessary surgery, namely amputate their razor-like talons. Often I held them down as he cut using a sharp steel knife. Before you think that this is nothing short of barbaric, no rooster ever died as a result of this procedure and it prevented any from getting severely injured in a cock fight, which is the sad reality if there is more than one Alpha Male hanging around. (Let this be a cautionary lesson to any Alpha Males reading this post.)


I guess ending up in a pot of caldo de pollo was a high price to pay for attacking the real
El Mero Mero (The Big Kahuna) de la familia—my papá, especially when El Grillo tore the trousers of his favorite suit and bloodied his legs.


He didn't mean to kill him, but like King David of old when he slew Goliath, my papá, taking a rock to protect himself, threw the perfect strike that would have made Dodger baseball player Fernando Valenzuela proud and he hit El Grillo on the head. Suddenly, that demon rooster toppled over and uttered his last cluck. So my papá had no choice but to take out his cuchillote and finish the job.


Later that afternoon my sisters and I came home from an outing and found El Grillo, minus his head, floating in a galvanized tub of hot water. We knew what this meant—we had to change out of our finery and start plucking every last feather off of his sorry carcass. Our parents' ace-in-the-hole reply when we howled in protest? "Bueno, chiquitas, if you're old enough to take an interest in boys, you're old enough to pluck the feathers off a chicken. Ahora pónganse a trabajar—Now get to work!" And like good Mexican girls that we were we did exactly what we were told.


I still remember his pathetic chicken legs sticking out of the pot of soup that my mother made. I was sickened by the sight of it back then, but I realize now that those patitas of his packed a ton of flavor to the Mexican style chicken soup—no need to add any bouillon at all. And the soup? None better—the perfect alchemy of the foods of Spain (chicken, garbanzo beans, rice) and Mexico (almost everything else).


Frankly, I must admit, for all of his fierceness, for all of his banter and macho pride which bordered on hubris—for a chicken—El Grillo really was a magnificent creature. When my family gets together we still talk of him with an odd mixture of affection and guilt for having eaten him—plus a bit of grudging respect.


How I miss those fat organic chickens with their amazingly rich broth. And the fresh fertilized eggs with their bright yellow-orange yolks. No more listening to the El Grillo and his ilk singing it up at 4 o'clock in the morning. All I have now are memories and a true love for good food and for the quietly heroic people of rural Mexico who, like my parents, have come to this country and still have chickens and goats in their backyards, whether they live in Los Angeles, Houston—or even Orange County. (Do The Real Housewives of Orange County keep chickens in their backyards, I wonder?)


El Grillo, I know you can't hear me, but if it is any consolation, diablito este—you little devil, you made a sabrosísimo—yummy soup and give you my gracias.


Mexican Chicken Soup with Corn-on-the-Cob

The trick to making this clear flavorful broth is to boil the chicken twice. Try it—you won't lose a bit of flavor, and you'll never have to eat cloudy, scummy chicken broth again. Plus, you won't have a lot of fat shining back at you. As always, you can choose which vegetables you want in the soup. When serving your family or guests, make sure to have some left over Mexican rice, cut lemons or limes, chopped serrano chilies for heat or hot chili salsa so they can add it to the soup if they wish.

(Note: If your are cooking an anemic chicken from the supermarket, you can cheat a little and add a bouillon cube when you add the vegetables to the soup if you want.)

What you need:

Large pot for soup.

A platter or roasting pan

Chopping knife

Ingredients:

1 whole chicken, split in half

For Soup:
About 11 cups water
1 carrot, uncut
½ large onion
3 or 4 cloves garlic
2 celery stalks, cut in half
About 8 pepper corns
1/4 bunch of fresh cilantro with stems attached; OR, fresh parsley
3 ears corn, cut about 2 ½ inches each
2 medium sized white boiling potatoes, chopped (optional)
1 or 2 carrots, cut into thin disks
1 cup thin-sliced onion
½ cup garbanzos (chickpeas), (optional)
2 zucchinis, sliced into disks
1 cup cooked white rice; OR, 1 cup leftover Mexican rice (optional)
Instructions:
Put washed chickens in the large pot, and add water just cover them. Over high heat, bring to a boil. Lower heat to medium. When the water is cloudy and scummy, remove the chicken from the pot and place it on the roasting pan or platter. Empty out the water and wash the pot. Next, add 11 cups of fresh water to the pot. Rinse the chicken under the tap, carefully removing any scum with your fingers. Return the chicken to the pot.
Add celery stalks, cilantro, uncut carrot, garlic, ½ onion, salt and pepper corns to the pot. Bring to a boil, lower heat to medium-low and simmer covered for about 25 minutes. Add garbanzos and simmer for 35 minutes more.
Remove chicken and return to roasting pan. Remove celery stalks, the uncut carrot, the 1/2 onion and cilantro, and toss them out. (Do not toss out the garlic and the garbanzos). Add the rest of the ingredients and simmer for 30 minutes, covered, or until the corn is tender-firm or tender, but not mushy. Cut chicken into manageable pieces and return to the pot.