Waxing Nostalgic for Mexico: Quesadillas Fritas Con Ensaladita de Col & Agua de Pepino

Quesadillas Fritas con Ensaladita de Col;
Fried Quesadillas with Cabbage Salad

Some meals bring home the sunshine.  They make me smile, they make me lounge, they make me want to run in the clover barefooted like a little girl.  Some meals make me think of home - when home was mom and dad and sister, half-Spanish, half-English (NOT Spanglish), Texas sunshine, and the smell of lime, cilantro and onions.  In some ways, that still is home - in other ways, it isn't because now I'm the mom.  And it's my sons wreaking havoc and smelling the smells of Mexico that will, one day, bring nostalgia to them.

I made a trip back to Mexico in early April to see my ailing grandmother.  I didn't have much time - just a few days - but I took a moment to smell my grandfather's roses, his lime tree, to walk the market of Queretaro and eat some carnitas tacos at a stand on the street.  I am lucky that here in Denver we live very close to one of the major epicenters of Mexican culture in Colorado: Federal Ave.  There are enough panaderias (menudo on the weekends!), paleterias (they also sell esquites and corn on a stick!), and taco stands (as well as any other variation of Mexican street food) to keep my never-ending-nostalgia for Mexico at a reasonable level.  My son is growing up eating Mexican street food far more often than I ever did.  I can get fresh tortillas, queso Oaxaca (my favorite cheese growing up that my mother and aunts used to freeze and smuggle into the US in their suitcases), and all the Mexican cuts of meat that I need for a good taquiza (taco-grill-out).  Not to mention fresh Nopales.

In that spirit, I want to share a meal I made recently that takes me back to Mexico, to my childhood, but also contains a new Mexican food discovery - one that belongs to my kitchen now - not  my mom's - one that has become Roman's go-to Spring drink, and an indispensable part of my own repertoire of Mexican comfort foods.

the meal

 

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There is this one little taco place called Tacos Junior (it's a chain) near us that we go to almost every Tuesday night after Roman's soccer practice.  He always orders the Tacos de Carne Asada, a cheese quesadilla and rice.  Matt gets a Huarache with Carnitas.  And, besides the ever-rotating list of foods, I always get a fresh "Agua" de sabor - a fruit drink made by blending water, sugar and fresh fruit.

They make them fresh for you per-order and $4 will get you a giant Big-Gulp sized cup of whatever fruity-deliciousness you choose.  I've mentioned these before when I posted a recipe for Agua de Limon a few years back (did mention this Lime shorage is killing me?!).  I almost always get Lime or Watermelon.  Matt always gets Horchata.  But recently I went rogue and tried a new flavor I'd never heard of before but which, on hindsight, is painfully obvious.  Roman's favorite vegetable.  Agua de Pepino - Cucumber water. 

What a waste my life has been!  And no, non-hispanic-American-friends, I don't mean that trendy concoction pushed by the likes of Martha Stewart where you infuse plain water in a fancy dispenser by placing daintily cut cucumber slices and ice into it.  I mean taking a whole damn cucumber and blending it up with water and sugar and lime or lemon juice.  I mean DRINKING a cucumber.  It's freaking incredible.  DO IT.  Spring in a glass, I tell you.  It was the only thing I made for Roman's party last weekend that actually ran out.  People were mesmerized.  Hell, so was I . :)

Agua de Pepino

Makes 2 liters

Ingredients

Large pitcher
1 1/2 -2 cucumbers, washed & very roughly chopped (you can peel them if you want, but I don't)
2 limes or lemons (preferably limes)
1 cup sugar (or to taste)
~2 liters water
Optional variation: fresh mint

Method

1. In a blender with 1 liter water and the cucumbers (and mint if you want it), liquefy until completely....well, liquified. :)  The mix will be somewhat pulpy (which I really like), but should not have "chunks" in it.

2. Meanwhile, combine the other liter of water and the sugar in the pitcher and mix until completely dissolved.  Do not be tempted to add the sugar after the cucumbers or the lime juice - my mother assures me the sugar will not dissolve as the water will already be saturated.

3. Add the lime / lemon juice and mix.

4. Add the cucumber mix to the pitcher (you can pass it through a strainer as you go, if you prefer, but I never do) and mix well.

Serve with ice on a sunny day.

NB: I keep a wooden mixing spoon in my pitcher at all times as the pulp will separate from the water after just sitting for 2 minutes.  You need to mix it each time before serving.  Keep refrigerated and it will last 2-3 days.

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The other half of the meal I want to share is a dish my mother used to make for us.  Fried quesadillas with ground beef, served with a simple lime & cabbage slaw.  You can change the filling for these as you wish, but some typical versions are: chorizo and potatoes, sauteed mushrooms or picadillo.  I took some liberties with my spicing for the ground beef  filling (for example, I like cumin - and coriander - a lot, and my mom hates it), though, technically speaking otherwise, this is my mom's recipe.  The only thing I will say is non-negotiable is the insane, almost-excessive amount of lime and black pepper that goes into the slaw.  I promise you it does not disappoint, especially when eaten with such a rich, fried food.  You can add diced, cooked potatoes to the filling as well.

Quesadillas Fritas & Ensaladita de Col

Serves ~4; Makes 20 Quesadillas

Ingredients

Quesadillas
Canola or Corn oil (for frying)
20 Corn tortillas
1/2 lb queso oaxaca or shredded mozzarella

1/2 lb ground beef or pork
splash of red wine vinegar
1 tsp dried Mexican oregano
1/4 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp black pepper
dash or two of garlic powder
dash of cinnamon (optional)
1 tsp coriander, crushed (optional)
1/2 small onion (white or yellow) chopped
1-2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 - 1 serrano pepper, chopped (or to taste)
salt to taste


Lime-Pepper Cabbage Slaw
1/2 - 3/4 head of cabbage, sliced thinly into long, fine strings
3-4 limes, juiced
1-2 tbsp freshly ground black pepper
salt to taste

Method:

1.  Assemble the cabbage salad and set aside at room temp: Slice cabbage finely into long little strings (not squares or it will be very hard to handle) and place into a serving bowl.  Dress with lime juice and lots and lots of pepper.  The quantity given above is an approximation.  Basically: just a lot of pepper.  Add salt to taste and toss.


2. For the quesadillas: With 1 tbsp oil sautee onions, garlic, pepper.  Add red wine vinegar and deglaze pan.  Add ground beef and all spices and cook-through. Set aside.

3. Heat your oil (about 1-inch high) in a frying pan over medium-high heat (not high eat or the quesadillas will burn).  Meanwhile, microwave the tortillas (wrapped in a paper towel) in batches as you make the quesadillas (about 5 at a time, or however many you think will fit in your frying pan as a batch), for 30-45 seconds, to soften them.  Throw a crumb of cheese or tortilla into the oil and when you see it frying you'll know the oil is ready.

4. You need to work quickly here or your oil will start to burn: Take the first batch of tortillas and, laying them out flat, add some cheese (about 1-2 tbsp worth) plus about 1-2 tbsp of the meat mixture to one half of each tortilla.  When you've assembled them, gently fold the tortilla over and immediately place into the oil.  Be very gentle or the tortilla will break and/or the fillings will fall out of the quesadilla into the oil causing a frenzy of flying hot oil.  Not good.

5.  The oil should be bubbling vigorously around each quesadilla.  (If it isn't, the oil is too cold and you should turn up the heat or your quesadillas will be oil-logged-nastiness.)  Use a spatula to gently press the quesadillas down.  Cook about 1-2 minutes on each side or until golden brown, turning carefully so filling does not spill out.  Remove crispy quesadillas to a paper-towel lined plate and start over by heating the next batch of tortillas in the microwave.


Serve the quesadillas warm or at room temp with a side of cabbage slaw.  I like to also serve with a basic homemade salsa, avocado slices, and extra limes.  I also stuff the quesadillas with the slaw.  Oh, and don't forget the glass of Agua de Pepino.

NB: Do not place quesadillas in an oven to keep warm or they will get tough!  I learned this the hard way! 

¡Buen Provecho!

This post is brought to you by the cheesy throw-back online Spanish-music radio station Matt found and I am addicted to: Rey de Corazones.  And also the hilarious Spanish song from my childhood by Miguel Bose I heard on Rey de Corazones a few weeks back; it's like a hispanic power-ballad about a bandit lover: Amante Bandido.

The Art of Mothering and Salsa Verde: Tomatillos Milperos & Enchiladas Suizas

Enchiladas Suizas & Salsa Verde in the background.

Amicable Alimentations: A series of posts with no predictable order or timing dedicated to a delicious food and the friend who most reminds me of it or inspired me to love it.  Here's the link to posts number one and number two from waaaay too long ago, and this, of course, is post number three in the series.

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Today I was going through my blog photography archives looking for inspiration.  Sure enough, I came across some photos of tomatillos I had taken almost a year ago.  Their presence began to nag at me, reminding me I still hadn't posted two recipes I've been dying to share ever since I first started my blog, two recipes that remind me of my mother and her mother (and her sisters).  All of this, coincidentally, on the week of Mother's Day. It was meant to be!

My mom sword fighting with Roman.
Sorry mom but this is you in a nutshell :)

Happy Mother's Day to my wonderful mom, her wonderful mom, my godmother (who is also a great mom and brought me my first-ever tomates milperos!), my sister, my mother-in-law and all my mother-friends!  It's nice to have a day of indulgent recognition, but it's also nice to have a day to remember the special maternal figures in our lives and what they have done to enrich our existence.  Wish I were in Texas! 

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Growing up, there were a few recipes we could count on my mom making on any given week: picadillo, chicken soup, guisito de chipotle con papas, tortitas de atun, milanesas, and, my favorite, flautas and/or enchiladas suizas.  The last two were and continue to be my professed favorites.  Maybe it's because my mom has small cigar-rolling fingers, or maybe it's just that special touch that all mom-made food tends to have, but I swear her flautas are the best out there!  And her enchiladas suizas are not too far behind.  Maybe because they are a combination of both of my favorite recipes into one.

Flautas

Granted, I will eat enchiladas any day, anywhere, anyhow.  Red, green, mole, whatever and with any filling (maybe except cheese-only-enchiladas which I am not a fan of).  I always get excited when I see them on a menu, but more times than not I leave restaurants disappointed and disgusted at the strange, flour-tortilla-with-marinara-sauce concoction I am served up.  I can't help but compare them to those my grandmothers and mother make. Crunchy, but deliciously slathered in green sauce, sometimes mixed with the cream, sometimes not.  Always delicious.

 Please Just Kick Old El Paso to the Curb Already.

The trick to a good enchilada is a good salsa, and as luck would have it, a good salsa is just not that hard to make.  It does sadden me that I cannot spread the word quick enough to avoid people continuing to buy those horrible looking jars (or worse yet, cans) of red "enchilada sauce" sold at the supermarket.  It's not so much that the fact that they are in a jar or can that bothers me (though it kind of does, as salsa is meant to be fresh in my mind) as much as it is just that the flavors are so boring and wrong.  Old El Paso enchilada sauce is like eating a spoon full of tomato sauce and a spoon full of cumin at the same time.   Mexican salsas are not only more complex in flavor, they are comprised of the infinitely simple, fresh, delicious ingredients vital to Mexican cuisine: onion, garlic, cilantro and chile.

Salsa Verde of the Real Persuasion.

My favorite salsas of all are green salsas, made with Mexican green tomatoes.  You can buy these tomatoes in their normal size, or, in Latin American markets you can also find them in a diminutive version that my Tia Ita brought me when she came to visit Maine a month or so ago.  She called these mini-tomatillos "Tomatillos Milperos" and after doing some research I found that their namesake comes from the word "milpa" in Spanish which refers to corn fields.  Apparently these small tomatoes are commonly found in between rows of corn in cornfields and are also called "miltomates."  The delicious tomatillo, which comes in delicate, paper-like husks, is called a few different things in Mexico.  Here's a quick explanation I found online:

"[In Spanish] 'miltomates' and their bigger cousins (what most call "tomatillos") are just 'tomates.'  And regular RED tomatoes are 'jitomates.' This nomenclature is pretty standard all over the interior and south of Mexico."

I generally make a simple green salsa with my tomates, which can be eaten raw or cooked.  You can also blend avocado with a raw green salsa for a wonderful dip.

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My Mom's Enchiladas Suizas

Serves 4 

I needed more sauce on mine, but they were still awesome.

Enchiladas Suizas are a traditional Mexican dish.  The name, translated "Swiss Enchiladas," refers to the white cream and cheese sauce that covers the top of the enchiladas, and also harkens the Swiss immigrants who established dairies to produce cream and cheese in Mexico.  Basically, instead of just topping the enchiladas with the salsa, you make them, top them with salsa and cream, then cheese and then bake them in the oven.  The flavors meld beautifully and the cheese is soft and melty.  I also like to fry the tacos until crispy like flautas whereas traditional enchiladas are more soggy - it's a personal preference!

In Mexico people would use "crema" in this recipe,  but since I can't get that in Maine I just use plain yoghurt or sour cream (if I'm feeling decadent).  It's easy enough to make at home - just a combination of heavy cream and sour cream, but I don't usually want the calories. :)

As for the cheese, I've seen people use Manchego, Monterrey Jack, Oaxaca, or, in my case, plain old mozzarella, but pretty much any mild white cheese would work well.

Also, in terms of technique I must admit that my mother and I take a couple of liberties to suit our needs: in Mexico enchiladas are made by frying the tortilla in oil, rolling the chicken in it, and then topping it.  My mother taught me to heat the tortillas in a microwave thereby foregoing the extra oil - it's healthier and far less messy but not very authentic :)

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Ingredients

Salsa Verde

- 12-18 tomatillos (green tomatoes, peeled of their shell, washed and halved)

*use double the amount if using miltomates / tomatillos milperos
- 2 cloves garlic
- 1 medium onion, chopped into quarters
- cilantro (probably 10-12 stems-worth)
- 1-2 Serrano chiles or more (optional & to-taste)
- salt, pepper to taste

For the Enchiladas / Flautas:
Ingredients:
2-3 chicken breasts (if you use bone-in and skin-on you'll get an awesome broth out of the deal with which to make chicken soup to go with the meal, which is what I generally do)
1/2 onion
2 cloves garlic, whole & unpeeled
10ish stems cilantro
5 or 6 peppercorns
20-25 corn tortillas
corn or canola oil (about 1 cup)
salt, pepper

1 cup or more of plain yoghurt or sour cream

1 cup or more of grated cheese of choice (I use mozzarella)

- 1 large rectangular casserole dish

1. Cook the chicken breasts in simmering water along with the onion, garlic, cilantro, peppercorns and a pinch or two of salt until tender (45 minutes).

2. Meanwhile, make the salsa: take all the ingredients and put in a blender.  Blend until smooth and adjust seasoning.  Set aside.

3. Remove the chicken from the pot and shred it by hand, discarding skin and bones if necessary.  Also, discard the onions, peppercorns and cilantro if you want to save the chicken broth for soup.

4. Pour the salsa into a pan with about 1 tsp of corn oil.  Allow it to come to a boil and simmer for 5-10 minutes, not allowing it to reduce too much.  If the sauce gets too thick, add a little more water.  Adjust the seasoning with salt or chicken bouillon.  Turn heat off.
Optional: At this point you can mix the cream into the salsa or leave it to be put separately on top of the salsa.  Traditionally they are combined.

5. Making the enchiladas:
Easy (and less oily) route: Wrap the tortillas in a paper towel or two and microwave for 1 1/2 or 2 minutes, until tender, then make the tacos by placing a small amount of chicken on the edge of the tortilla and wrapping tightly.  Meanwhile, heat oil in a pan on medium-high heat (make sure it's not so hot that it will burn the tacos though).  Gently place the tacos into the pan one by one, tightly so they don't unroll and fry until golden on all sides (salt while hot).  Place on a plate with paper towels on it to drain the excess oil.

More traditional route: Heat the oil in a pan.  One by one place the tortillas in the oil until softened, then lay in a pile on a plate.  Once all the tortillas are cooked, make the enchiladas just as above by rolling a small amount of chicken in each one.

**I pack the rolled tacos into a casserole dish while I'm waiting to fry them.**

Note: If your tortillas are not cooked enough they will break like cardboard.  You will know they are ready if they roll up easily and tightly - the tighter the better. 
 

6. Once the tacos are ready, transfer them back to the rectangular casserole dish arranging them into just one layer.  Pour the salsa-cream mixture on top, covering them entirely, then sprinkle with the grated cheese. Bake at 400F for 15 minutes or until the cheese is golden and melted. and the sauce is bubbling.

I usually serve rice and refried beans with this meal as well. :)  Provecho!

Scallop, Citrus & Avocado Ceviche: Stay-at-Home Fishing

Scallop, Citrus & Avocado Ceviche - almost Carpaccio-style.

I assume it's obvious by now that one of my favorite parts about getting together with family (and people in general) is what we eat.  I especially enjoy going to Matt's parents' house for this reason because his family loves food and makes very different dishes than the ones I grew up with.  We inevitably have large pieces of meat every single day paired with American-bounty-esque side dishes like homemade mashed potatoes or potato salad.  It's all always delicious and in that regard I feel very spoiled by my in-laws.  But inevitably, by the end of the weekend I am seriously (ravenously) craving Mexican food.  Rice... Beans...Limes...Tortillas...Avocados...Please!

On that note, I haven't had many chances to cook for my in-laws, so when I do have the opportunity I try to make something they don't usually eat at home themselves but that is also representative of me as a person and the way Matt and I love to eat at home.  While our style of eating could theoretically, to the outside observer, seem like a haphazard, borderline-schizophrenic jumble of random ethnic dishes I've picked up here and there, there is some method to my madness.  I cook dishes from places I've been and love.  Not just places I've been.  Places I've been and love.  And I don't cook things that I just kind of like.  I only cook the foods that had me at hello.

Growing up, one of those "had me at hello" dishes was ceviche.  When Matt announced to me that July day that he and his brother would be going fishing with his dad - no-girls-allowed-style - aside from being slightly bitter about the whole thing (because I love to fish!), I decided it was time to stage a stay-at-home-fishing experience by making ceviche with fresh scallops for all the girls.  My recipe is below.  But first, the list for this post:

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Ceviche: The Who, What, Where, Why & How

because raw fish & citrus go together like a wink and a smile

5. The WHO:
It is a highly debated topic - who invented ceviche.  Lots of people say it was the Peruvians.  There are those who would say some place in Southeast Asia, or even the Moors in Spain.  All I know is that it was my dad that first made ceviche for me, his seafood-addict-child.  I can remember constantly sneaking to the fridge to watch it marinate and impatiently waiting until the lime juice had cooked the shrimp just long enough for me to clandestinely steal a chunk.  It was a love-affair, I tell you.

4. The WHAT:

Mexican ceviche, or at least the one I've always seen and eaten, is predominantly made with octopus, white fish and/or shrimp in a tomato, cilantro, and lime-based marinade, usually with avocadoes added and garnished with tortilla chips or crackers.  But ceviche can be any raw-fish and citrus combination and can be as elaborate or simple as you wish to make it.  Some people love to pair sweet with sour by adding fruits such as oranges and jicamas to the mix.  The great thing is that ceviche, by definition, is a dish that celebrates the delicious flavor of fresh fish cooked by the acids in citrus juices.  The possibilities are endless.

3. The WHERE:
Ceviche is most popular in South and Central America, where there is a culture of both good, fresh seafood and a great use of citrus as a condiment.  I once had a student from Ecuador who told me it was their national food.  You can find it served on beaches everywhere in Mexico, usually cocktail-style.  I find it's great to serve at dinner parties either as a group appetizer or light individual starter.

2. The WHY:

For me, the why of ceviche is simple: it's a technically easy dish to prepare.  It requires very little work up front and then no further work until you serve it.  And if done correctly, it offers a variety of delicious flavors that nobody can argue with (unless they hate seafood, in which case you are SOL).  And even if you have someone in the party who is picky or squeamish about raw fish, you can sear the fish or cook it and serve it with the marinade over it (though it wouldn't be true ceviche anymore).

1. The HOW:

It's easy.  Check out the recipe below. :)

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Scallop, Citrus & Avocado Ceviche

Serves 4-6

 

You can make ceviche in many ways.  I prefer to do it carpaccio-style, slicing the fish extremely thinly and layering it on a large platter.  It makes for a pretty dish and is also less sloppy-looking.  This is ideal with scallops since they are already a pretty round shape.

Ingredients

10-12 Large King Scallops (not those tiny little ones)

2 large Hass Avocados

3-4 juicy limes

2 navel oranges

1/4 cup orange juice

1/2 medium onion sliced into half-rings

2 cloves garlic, minced

2 tbsp chopped cilantro

1/2 - 1 jalapeno pepper, chopped (optional)

1 tbsp olive oil

2-3 tbsps red wine vinegar

pinch of sugar

salt & pepper to taste

Method

1. Make sure the scallops smell and look fresh and clean.  Slice them lengthwise into thin rounds.  You should get 3-4 slices out of each king scallop.  Set aside.

2. Slice your onions, chop your cilantro, jalapeno (if you're not a wuss) and mince the garlic.  Set aside.

3. Take out your large, flat platter (make sure it has a high enough edge that the marinade will not run off).  Cut the avocados in half, then into thin slices - enough to cover the bottom of the platter.  Arrange evenly.

4. Next, using your knife, peel the oranges and delicately cut the wedges out of the orange, leaving any peel and pith behind.  Arrange the thin orange slices all over the platter with the avocado.  Save the orange juice and pith on the cutting board.

5. Next, arrange the scallops and onion slices on top of the avocado and orange, making sure the surface level is even and attractive.

5. In a separate bowl, squeeze the orange remains to get any juice out.  If you have 1/4 cup already doing that, don't add extra orange juice.  Otherwise, add the 1/4 cup in the recipe.  Then squeeze the juice of all the limes into the bowl.  Add the garlic, cilantro, jalapeno, sugar, vinegar, olive oil, and salt and pepper to taste.  Whisk the dressing until emulsified.  Then pour over the scallop platter, making sure that the scallops are covered with enough dressing to be under it (otherwise they won't cook).  If there is not enough dressing, push the scallops down into it and rearrange the avocados / oranges so that the fish is covered.

6. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 6-8 hours.  Serve with tortilla chips or saltine crackers (my favorite).  You will know the scallops are cooked once they turn an opaque white, but they will probably still be rare on the inside.  Delicious. :)

Mental Note: I have to say I think this would be delicious with some fennel thrown in as well.

"Capeando" with my Friend Frida K: Chiles Rellenos de Picadillo

Frida Kahlo: Mexican Woman, Artist & Great Cook

"A la nina no le gusta capear."  

"The girl doesn't like to batter things." 

I can almost imagine my grandmother saying that phrase to one of her girlfriends during afternoon coffee in Mexico City, shaking her head hopelessly and shrugging her shoulders, in reference to my mother, her youngest daughter.  It's an odd thing to think of, both because it probably never happened and because it's really such a shockingly unimportant thing to know how to, much less like, batter things.  And by "batter" I mean "battering" in the way that Mexican women know how, to create an endlessly fluffy mix of beaten egg whites and beaten egg yolks to coat various things and then fry them: Chiles Rellenos - stuffed peppers - are the most widely recognized and pertinent example here.

My mother hates battering things.  She hates getting her hands dirty, especially getting things under her nails - I inherited this trait, incidentally - and she also hates laborious, elaborate cooking.  So whenever I brought up making chiles rellenos and how to do it I usually got the same conclusive response after an elaborate explanation on method:

" Es una friega capear."

"It is a pain in the ass to batter things."

Fair enough.  We all have things we hate to do in the kitchen: I hate using double baths to melt chocolate, I hate having to put things in ice baths (seems so pointless when you can just run them under cold water), and I hate pouring powdered sugar into a bowl because it's impossible not to be dusted with a cloud of it.  I am very paranoid about over-beating whipped cream, buttercream icing, and am usually too lazy to refrigerate or wrap things in plastic wrap as often or quickly as I should.  So I don't blame my mother for having her battering issues.

But actually, I don't really think that the "capeando" part of making Chiles Rellenos is the hardest or most "pain in the ass" part of the whole rigmarole.  For me it's the roasting and peeling.  I hate roasting Poblano peppers (or any peppers for that matter), because I truly hate peeling the charred skin off the peppers once I'm done.  It's messy, it's never as easy as the recipes say it will be, and it's the step that always gets skipped on instructional videos.  Sure, wouldn't it be nice if a bowl of roasted, peeled, de-seeded and de-veined Poblano peppers just magically appeared next to your chopping board like in those videos?  Yeah - that's never gonna happen.

For these reasons, among others, we almost never had Chiles Rellenos at home.  In fact, the only times we ever had them was when we went out to eat at Pancho's, and that was almost never (I still maintain Pancho's has the best ever sopapillas and truly applaud the "raise & lower the mini Mexican flag on your table" method as a great way of quickly getting service from waiters).  Plus I always got given a hard time if I wanted to order them because nobody else in my family even really liked them.  It was a hard knock life, what can I tell you?

Anyway, dammit, today I was feeling homesick and determined to have some Chiles Rellenos if it killed me.  I decided that in my mother's absence (despite not liking to make them, she does know how) I would pull out the next best thing in culinary terms - a cookbook Matt bought me several years ago and which is still one of my favorite, for both its amazing recipes and its nightly aesthetically pleasing layout, pictures, and content: Frida's Fiestas: Recipes and Reminisces of Life with Frida Kahlo

This book follows Frida's style through party menus which in turn follow special occasions and holidays in the Mexican culture and the charmed but tragic life of Frida Kahlo.  It's filled with interesting biographical tidbits, original photos from La Casa Azul, and artwork by Frida, of course.  It's simply amazing.  

The book transports you to a different time, a different place, and a different way of living: a time and place where cooking for your family all day was a feminine duty and pleasure, a time of avant-garde art and revolution, and a time and place of unabashed nationalism and love of country.  It makes my heart hurt for Mexico, a Mexico that was and is no more.  But heartache aside, at least it allows me to savor some of those sorely-missed flavors, even if it does mean roasting and peeling Poblano peppers all by myself, and then battering them without my mom around to complain with. :)

* * *

Chiles Rellenos de Picadillo

adapted from Frida's Fiestas

Serves 2-3

Chile Relleno de Picadillo con Salsa de Tomate

Not to put you off, but this is not an "easy" dish to make.  Not that it's incredibly hard either, it just takes time, patience and perseverance.  My mom sure isn't kidding about "capeando" being difficult - as batters go, egg is not the easiest or least messy to work with, but it is delicious, which makes the trouble well worth it.

Picadillo is a ground beef based dish made with chopped vegetables and tomato.  It is eaten on its own or used to stuff things with in Mexico.  I think it pairs perfectly with these peppers but if you're vegetarian or simply looking for an alternative, chiles rellenos can be stuffed with cheese (probably the most famous iteration of this recipe).  Use queso blanco if you can find it, if not throw in some cheddar or mozzarella.

* * *

Ingredients
4 Poblano Chiles, roasted, peeled, de-seeded & left intact
(Substitute: Anaheim chiles or bell peppers in a pinch)

Oregano Mexicano

4 eggs, separated into whites and yolks in two bowls
4 tbsp flour
salt and pepper

For the Picadillo Stuffing:

2 tbsp vegetable oil or shortening
1 small onion, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2lb ground beef (~250g)
1 medium potato, peeled, cooked and cubed
1-2 carrots, cooked and chopped into squares
1/4 cup tomato sauce
1 chicken bouillon cube (optional)
thyme, marjoram, oregano (to taste)
salt and pepper (to taste)

*Note: This is my picadillo recipe: Frida puts shredded cabbage in hers, which sounds great, but I don't generally do that, nor did I have any on hand.

For the Salsa:

2 tbsps olive oil

Zanahorias & Cebolla

4 large tomatoes, roasted, peeled, de-seeded
& roughly chopped  (substitute: 1 can chopped / whole tomatoes & juice)
1 medium carrot, sliced finely
1 medium onion, sliced finely
1/4 cup vinegar (white)
1 pinch sugar
salt &pepper (to taste)
1 tsp Mexican Oregano


Method:

1. Make the picadillo by sauteeing and mixing the ingredients in order above in the hot oil or shortening.  Do not add other ingredients until after the onion and garlic are fragrant and translucent.  Add seasoning while the meat is still raw.  Allow to simmer for 10 minutes to allow the flavors to meld.  Set aside.

2. For the salsa: In another small pot, heat the oil then add the onion and cook until translucent.  Add the carrot and saute for a few minutes.  Then add the chopped tomatoes, vinegar, sugar, salt and pepper. Simmer for 10 minutes, then add the oregano.  Simmer until the tomatoes have broken down and the sauce is, well, a sauce. :)  Set aside.

3. For the chiles: the best way to roast them if you have a gas stove is to hold them over the flame directly using kitchen tongs.  I simply set them down on the flame and turn them occasionally, then use the tongs to make sure I get every little area of the pepper completely charred.

4. Immediately put the hot, black-charred peppers into a sealed plastic bag and leave until they are cold enough to handle (10 minutes).  Using a butter knife, gently scrape all the charred skin off, leaving the pepper in tact.

Chiles Poblanos: Roasted, Peeled and de-seeded

5.  When you are ready to stuff and fry the peppers: Heat 1/2 to 1 cup vegetable oil in a pan or small pot (the oil should go about 1/2 to 2/3 of an inch up the side of the pan).  Make a vertical slit down 2/3 of the length of the pepper and remove the seeds, taking care not to rip the pepper.  Using a spoon, place 1 -2 heaping spoonfuls of picadillo into the cavity of the pepper.  Then dredge in the flour mixture (flour, salt and pepper).

6. Meanwhile, beat the egg whites until they form medium-hard peaks.  Then beat the yolks until slightly foamy.  Combine the two gently into one bowl - use immediately.

7.  Using a slotted spoon, gently place one pepper into the egg mixture and cover it in the "capeada" or "batter."  Gently remove from the batter with a slotted spoon and place immediately in the hot oil.  Fry until golden on both sides, about 2 minutes, and batter is cooked through.

Serve immediately with the tomato salsa spooned over the top.

An Oldy-but-Goody: Tortitas de Atun (Mexican Fishcakes)

Comfort food: Tortitas de Atun

Everyone needs to have a couple of simple, delicious, full-proof recipes in their cooking arsenal: the kind of food that comforts, fulfills, and delights every time it's put on the table.  

In my mom's house one of these such recipes was an old favorite from her own childhood: "tortitas de atun" or, translated from Spanish, "little tunafish patties" (fishcakes, for you foodies out there). We ate these things at least once every two weeks and rarely tired of the perfect combo of potato and fish that has been eaten over the years by numerous cultures in countless permutations.  But in addition to the good taste, there was something comforting about the tortita ritual because you always knew when you saw the stack of fried tortitas on the table that you'd have Mexican tabbouleh to go with them, that there would be plenty of warm corn tortillas to make them into tacos with and that the cream and salsa would sit prominently on the table to garnish them with.  To this day, my sister and I still make them for our own families, which is a testament in and of itself to the deliciousness (and simplicity) of these fishcakes.

My Sous-Chef

While I am an unabashed devotee of my mom's version of tortitas de atun, one day a week ago or so I found myself thinking and wondering the unthinkable and unwonderable: how could I improve upon this old classic and make it a true Mexican-inspired summertime dish?  

Today's recipe is the answer.  This dish is fried but it manages to stay light, especially when served immediately and with a fresh salad on the side. Enjoy.

* * *

Tortitas de Atun: Mexican Style

Makes 14-16

Something most people probably wouldn't know about Mexican food is the way that summer squash features prominently in it.  People in Mexico love to eat "calabacitas" as they call the diminutive and lighter colored zucchini that are so commonly found at markets.  They eat the vegetable (or "fruit") and are completely obsessed with the flowers.  Happily, this type of mini zucchini is also readily available here in the UAE.  It is smaller and lighter in color (sometimes called baby or fingerling) than the variety generally found in the U.S. and I prefer it for that reason as the flavor tends to be more intense the smaller the vegetable. Zucchini is a summer crop by nature (best from May to August) which means that right now is still a good time to grab it.  

For this recipe I used a combination of zucchini with sweet corn and cilantro - all very Mexican flavors - to add a fresher feel to my mom's fishcakes.  I then served them with a quick Chipotle hot sauce that takes two seconds to make and adds the perfect bite.  The result was excellent and I think I will continue to use this version in the future as it is also a great way to get Roman to eat even more veggies.

Ingredients

1 can tunafish in water

~1/2 cup cilantro, chopped coarsley

~1/3 cup parsley, chopped coarsley

1 cup frozen sweet corn

4 small zucchini

1 small onion, chopped

1 medium jalapeno pepper, chopped finely

4-5 medium potatoes, peeled and cubed

1 tsp wholegrain mustard

1 pinch paprika

1 egg

salt and pepper to taste

3/4 cup flour

vegetable oil for frying

Quick Chipotle Sauce

1/2 cup sour cream or plain yogurt

1-2 tbsp chipotles en adobo

salt to taste

Method

1. Peel and cube the potatoes and then put them to boil in salted water until completely tender - about 15 minutes.  Drain and mash the potatoes until smooth.  Allow to cool for 10 minutes or so.

2. Meanwhile, chop the onion and zucchini into small cubes.

3. Add the chopped herbs, corn, zucchini, onion, jalapeno, mustard, paprika, salt and pepper to the mashed potatoes and mix with your hands.  Once the mixture is well-combined, drain the water from the tuna and add it to the mixture.  Mix it in gently, leaving chunks rather than allowing it to break-up completely.  Add the egg to the mixture and combine completely.

4. On a piece of wax paper or foil pour out the flour.  One by one, form little fishcake patties (about 3 inches in diameter and 1/2 inch high) in your hand, rounding the edges.  Then roll the fishcake gently in the flour, covering all sides, and shaking off excess.  Repeat this process in batches until all the mixture is used, frying some of them as you go so the flour won't soak into the fishcake.

5. Once you have finished forming and flouring the first batch of fishcakes, warm about 3/4 cup to 1 cup of vegetable oil in a large non-stick frying pan.  Then add as many fishcakes as will fit uncrowded to the pan.  Allow them to cook about 1-2 minutes on each side or until nicely golden-brown on both sides.  Remove from the pan to a plate lined with paper towels to soak up the excess oil.

6.  Salt the fishcakes while they are still hot and remove them to a serving dish.

7. Make the chipotle sauce by combining the cream and chipotles/adobo.  You can mix it completely but I prefer to leave some striations of cream and chipotle - not only does it look better, it guarantees more distinct flavors.  Add salt to taste if necessary.

Defying Racial or Ethnic Categorization: Mexican Tabbouleh

It may be Lebanese, but the color palette is distinctly Mexican :)

Growing up most of my life there was always a dilemma when I had to fill out a government issued document which requested I specify my "race" and "ethnicity." Back then (and maybe now too - haven't filled one out in a while) the "racial categories" looked a little like this:

Please select ONE:
White
Black
Native American or Alaska Native
Asian
Other: (please specify) _______________

So where exactly did I fit in? Apparently I am not the only one who had this problem. I suppose as a small child my parents probably made the decision for me, but as an adolescent, and in a world where being "other" was as good as wearing your underwear on the outside of your clothes for the rest of the 8th grade, the decision was an uncharted mine field of worries and insecurities.

Brenda's Adolescent Stream-of-Consciousness Thought Process

*deep breath*

Am I white? Well, white usually means European...and light eyes. But I have Spanish blood. Isn't that European? And some Spaniards have light eyes. But I don't have light eyes, or light skin. Although it's not really "dark." But I tan well. Well, I'm definitely not black, definitely not Native American...and definitely not Asian. But wait, technically Mexicans are kind of "native" to the Americas. And they were in Texas far before the whites. And anyway what makes them different from the Karankawas or the Comanches? I guess they didn't live in teepees. Whatever...but am I white enough to be "other white" or am I just "other?" Why don't they just put HISPANIC!? Or wait, is that an ethnicity? Maybe I'll ask the teacher. No, she won't know. Who cares anyway? Aren't these things supposed to be voluntary? Ugh, what-ever. Other. I guess I'm "other."

* * *

And then there was the dreaded "please specify" blank where I had to decide what kind of "other" I was - whether I should write "Hispanic," "Latina," "Mexican." I felt like going up to the teacher and saying in my best Wire-esque Sen. Clay Davis accent, "Shiiiiiiiiit lady, if the school and government aren't clear on what is and isn't a race, how the hell am I supposed to be? This is some shameful shiiiiiiit." But I'm not that ghetto. Or brave.

It was actually kind of laughable in the end. The choice - at least I believe so - never really mattered much in terms of how I saw myself or how my teachers and good friends treated me. In reality, oddly, it was a chance for reflection on my racial identity and how that fit - or didn't - with everyone around me. I suppose that's a strange but good opportunity I would not have been afforded had I been able to just check the "white" box without a single doubt in my mind from the start.

But it wasn't until many years later, in college, that I found out that technically I would not have been so very wrong to do so. As that's when I started noticing government documents had added new racial categories including "White Hispanic" and "Black Hispanic." That made my life a little easier because then at least I didn't have to be "other" anymore. : )

* * *

White Hispanics: The Mexican-Lebanese & Tabbouleh

I bet you didn't know it but there is a huge Lebanese population in Mexico. Those two cultures are not necessarily an obvious match, but they seem to have melded quite nicely and even turned out several delicious hybrid foods and people.

If you want some of the history behind this in a concise readable manner, check this article out about the Lebanese in Puebla, Mexico. In the meantime, here are, to me, the four most interesting points regarding Mexican-Lebanese gastronomy, life love and the defying of racial categorization. >: )

* * *

Top Four Interesting Points Regarding Love, Mexican-Lebanese,
Tabbouleh and Racial Categorization to boot.
salads, brides - the whole nine yards

4. Tacos Arabes?!
If you've ever seen a Mexican Tacos Al Pastor taco stand, you know how similar it looks to a kebab shop. The meat is skewered and roasted vertically on a spit (or trompo, in Spanish), much like shawarma or the Turkish döner kebab. Thanks to Lebanese immigrants, almost everywhere now, you can buy "Tacos Arabes" in Mexico which refers to meat shaved off the shawarma-like spit and served on thick flour tortillas - the closest thing to pita or "pan Arabe" you'll find in most Mexican households.

And the traditional "kebab" was taken one further step away from its originally heritage when Mexicans invented "tacos al pastor" or "shepherd tacos" which are also roasted on a trompo with a giant chunk of pineapple at the top. Though they pay homage to their origins in the name, these tacos are generally made of pork, not lamb, and always served on corn tortillas - the Mexican way.


3. White Hispanics?!
What is a "white Hispanic?" Well, turns out it is a Hispanic who is racially white. I am still unclear on what that means exactly - but my best guess would probably be something like: "Hispanics with European ancestry." But then that doesn't really fit people like Salma Hayek (acress extraordinaire) or Carlos Slim (richest man in the world), or me for that matter, now does it? So basically it seems to be a definition of exclusion: people who are not racially black, Asian or "native."

When you put it that way, it all seems rather convoluted and unnecessary, dontcha think? : )


2. The Tabbouleh Test?!
Tabbouleh is not a complex dish, but it does include several components, and how one chops, blends and proportions these components makes a big difference in terms of taste and authenticity. Is the bulgur soft enough? Is the dressing too acid or too oily? Are the tomatoes and cucumbers too small or too large? And is the parsley pervasive or an afterthought? As a Mexican home cook, I'm not too bothered one way or another as long as it tastes good. But if you're a Lebanese man's fiancee, there is a lot more at stake!

In Lebanese culture it is customary to test a future bride's worthiness by having her make Tabbouleh for the women of the husband-to-be's family. The woman is judged particularly on how finely she can chop the parsley and whether or not she allowed any of the tough parsley stems into the mix. I don't know if I would have made it.


1. Mexican Tabbouleh?!
I always found it rather odd that my mother grew up eating Tabbouleh on a regular basis in a fully-Mexican household deep in the heart of Mexico City. But once I started reading about the Lebanese influx into Mexico, it all made sense.

Despite the salad being of Lebanese and Arab origin, it has become extremely popular in Mexico and throughout Latin America. My family has modified it slightly to fit their Mexican palate, and I have further made it my own with tweaks here and there. It appeals because it is fresh, inexpensive, and delicious - and goes well with almost any meal, as a starter, side or even main. And if you're one of those people who thinks parsley is nothing more than a garnish found at diners - this is the dish that makes that under-appreciated herb really shine.

* * *

Brenda's Mexican Tabbouleh
Serves 6


An ethnically ambiguous version of Tabbouleh.

This is a great springtime salad, and let's face it, despite the last clouds and cool breezes hanging about, spring has sprung my friends!

I have altered this traditionally Lebanese salad by reducing the amount of parsley, adding copious amounts of lime (I am Mexican after alll!) and garlic, and mixing in generous amounts of ripe avocado. I serve it as a side dish with breaded chicken Milanese and mashed potatoes, or as a full lunch accompanied by some pita and a couple of hard boiled eggs.


Ingredients
1 cup bulgur wheat
1 cucumber, peeled
1 medium ripe tomato
2-3 ripe haas avocados, chopped roughly
4-5 limes (or lemons), juiced (about 1 cup juice)
3 cloves garlic, finely minced
1 cup parsley, finely chopped (no stems!)
1/3 cup good olive oil
salt and pepper to taste


Method
1. Pour raw bulgur wheat into a large, flat container so that it is in a thin layer. Pour lime juice over it - there should be extra lime juice around the wheat, which will soak in. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 4-6 hours or until the bulgur wheat has soaked up all the lemon juice and is soft.

2. Dice the cucumber and tomatoes into small squares and add to the bulgur wheat. Add the parsley, garlic and avocado.

3. Pour the olive oil over everything, salt and pepper to taste and then mix. Add more lime juice or olive oil as necessary. Serve cool.

بالهنا والشفا
Bon Appetit

Fat Tuesday & Cajun Roux: Shrimp, Chicken & Sausage Gumbo

Gumbo and a Little New Orleans Flair.

Lent is a time of fasting, a time of reflection and reconnecting with the person we might have lost along the good-intentioned-paved road of gluttony and greed we've walked throughout the previous liturgical year. There are no flowers in church, dull songs during mass, accompanied by, most notably, the absence of choirs and instruments and a microphone-boosted, resoundingly off-key and otherwise instrumentally-masked priest voice that is better left to the most pious of imaginations.

But when I think of Lent I think a seafood feast: Fish & Chips, copious amounts of Shrimp, Salmon, Scallops, in place of my otherwise beloved veal, pork, chicken and lamb. Sadly, most years I look forward to it not as an opportunity to cleanse the slate of my impure soul, but as a culinary challenge. I love to cook seafood but rarely have a good reason to go out of my way to visit the monger of fish and get myself a nice, fresh bit of whatever smells like the ocean. Lent provides, nay, mandates that every Friday I do just that.

But before Lent there is Mardi Gras, the Tuesday that is Fat. :) And having been prefaced with my Lenten fish obsession, it should be relatively obvious to you that when I think of Mardi Gras, the last Tuesday before lent, images of beads, Bourbon street, pancakes, and feathery masks and boas are secondary to my long-time love for the infamous Cajun soup we all know and dare not cook: Gumbo.

Never mind that I almost died from going into a severe allergic reaction and anaphylactic shock from eating Gumbo in New Orleans once. "Why dare we not cook it?" you might ask. There are several reasons for that, and here they are in list form. :)

* * *

Gumbo: Top 4 Reasons I Dared Not Cook It
until now
(Hey, it's Mardi Gras - let's throw caution to the wind!)

4. The Spices.
Despite having grown up in relative proximity to Louisiana, and having visited it on several occasions, I will freely admit that I knew little to nothing about Cajun food and its roots. For that reason alone, I find concocting any kind of semi-legitimate Cajun style seasoning for food extremely intimidating. Frankly, I have a small bottle of Tabasco sauce I keep on hand and some shrimp-boil spice mix, but other than that, as far as I could tell my bodega did not boast anything even close to legitimate Cajun spices.

After some quick reading, I found I was dead wrong about Cajun complexity. Cajun flavors are actually relatively common and simple - it's the combination that makes them distinctive.

All you need for good and authentic Cajun food is: bay leaves, thyme, black pepper, cayenne pepper, onion, celery, bell pepper, garlic, salt, parsley and filé (or Sassafras).


3. The Sausage.
When I was a kid I used to watch cooking shows a lot. I did not think that was odd because my dad was a chef and I'd always had a natural interest in cooking. But I think I finally had a sense that I was a litt-le "different" when I found myself choosing to watch Justin Wilson, THE New Orleans Cajun, over cartoons.

"I dont like that some, none atallll any!"

As Mr. Wilson explains in this amazing flash-to-the-past-piece-of-culinary-heritage video, there is a special kind of sausage used in Cajun cooking, and it's called Andouille. Andouille is "the gumbo sausage," according to Mr. Wilson, because it is the only kind of sausage any self-respecting Cajun would ever grace the gumbo pot with. Originally brought over by the French it is a smokey, pork sausage used in many Cajun dishes including Jambalaya and Etouffee.

Well, I never have Andouille sausage on hand, and I have convinced myself for years that using any other sausage was a little too close to blasphemy for this Roman Catholic, until yesterday when I proudly plunked a bunch of British Cumberland sausages into the mix and lived to tell the tale. :)


2. The Okra.
When I decided to finally cook gumbo, I was convinced that it would definitely be missing one of my favorite southern ingredients: okra*.

Having been raised on the wonderful cafeteria lunches of Texas public schools, I was well-versed in the ways of okra. My favorite lunch consisted of chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes (white gravy on both), buttered corn, and fried okra, with a side of jello and a chocolate milk. (Yeah, yeah heart-attack on a plate, yadda yadda...it's the south, ok?) And to me, gumbo is not gumbo without okra in it. I have NEVER seen okra in a UK supermarket. In fact, they'd probably laugh at me if I asked whether they had it or not. But yesterday, the universe was smiling down on me.

Roman and I ventured out of the cave to buy some green beans (the sad substitution) when I had a nagging feeling I should peek my head into the local Halal Grocer and see if maybe they had okra. Miraculously, right there in the very center of their veg display was a giant pile of fresh, delicious okra. Needless to say, I dove in head first and ran out raving like a mad woman, my gumbo-making having been legitimized.

*Notes on Okra: Some consider the addition of okra to gumbo to be a specifically Creole thing. Others say Okra should only be used in gumbo that includes seafood or is to be consumed in the summer. Others still say that when using okra, the roux should be cooked to a medium color rather than the darkest, making it a less over-powering flavor and allowing the okra to be better showcased.


1. The Roux.
Everyone knows what a roux is. Ok, Matt didn't know, but, I mean, everyone who's into food knows what a roux is. It's that dark mysterious stuff made in secret white wooden shacks deep in the Louisiana bayou...the real stuff is hard to come by, and even harder to make. The combination of fat (butter, oil) and flour seems simple enough - but when you throw in menacing threats of burning, constant stirring, miniscule differences in coloration making "all the difference," it really starts to mess with your head.

I had myself convinced there must be something so utterly complex and unique about making roux that there was no way in hell I could do it at home, much less in the UK, where the H.E.B. Cajun section is not around the corner to save me in case I mess it up.

Happily (again), I was wrong about Roux being complex. It's about as simple as can be to make -it just take a whole lot of time and patience. You have to cook it for, minimum, half an hour to get a decent color - and the real purists cook it for even longer than that, to a black, dark, chocolatey color. It is the base and the basis for all the flavor in gumbo, and the darker the deeper and more delicious it is. Much like hand-whipped cream, or zabaglione, Roux is a true labor of love, and while you can buy it at a store these days, I highly recommend you take the bull by the horns and make it yourself. You'll never doubt your ability to make gumbo again.

* * *

Brenda's Mighty Fine Gumbo

based on this recipe
Serves 4-6

Roux-y, Pepper-y Might-y Fine Gumbo

I made this gumbo on a whim to celebrate Mardi Gras. I cooked my roux for 30 minutes exactly (Roman would not suffer me being at the stove much longer than that at one time) and it came out a darkish color - maybe slightly darker than milk chocolate. I found the flavor to be to my taste, and almost a little bit overpowering, actually. So if you don't like really intense gumbo, keep it under 30 minutes for roux-cooking time.

I added chicken, shrimp and sausage to my gumbo and used okra as an additional thickening agent as opposed to the traditional use of in the winter filé. I also did not have Cayenne pepper on hand, so I used reguarly crushed red pepper and jalapenos combined with copious amounts of black pepper, with I think is the most Cajun tasting.

Oh, and don't forget to pull out the Mardi Gras masks for dinner - we did and it made it taste all the more authentic. :)

* * *

Ingredients
1/2 cup vegetable or olive oil
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1 medium white onion, chopped finely (about 1 cup)
1 small green bell pepper, chopped finely (about 1 cup)
2-3 stalks celery, chopped finely (about 1 cup)
3 cloves garlic, minced
1-2 jalapenos, minced, seeds in
1 quart (~1 liter) chicken stock or low-sodium broth
3 bay leaves
2 medium skinless chicken breasts, diced
1/2 pound shrimp, peeled and deveined
1/4 pound andouille sausage or 4 Cumberland sausage links, cut into 1/2-inch-thick rounds
1/2 pound fresh okra, trimmed and cut into 1/2-inch-thick rounds
1 tbsp salt
1 tbsp crushed red pepper or 1 tsp ground cayenne pepper
1 tbsp freshly ground black pepper
2 tsps dried thyme
4 cups cooked white rice, made with copious amounts of ground black pepper cooked in


Method
1. Make the roux by heating the oil in a large pot and then adding the flour. Stir with a whisk on low heat (the roux should be bubbling) until it is the desired color (at least 20 minutes, ideally about 30) and has an intense, nutty scent. Do NOT allow it to burn!

2. Add the holy trinity (onion, celery and bell pepper), the garlic, the jalapenos and the red pepper and cook in the hot roux on medium heat until the vegetables are soft. Then slowly whisk in the stock a little bit at a time. It will look like the roux is not mixing with it, but don't worry that's normal.

3. Raise heat to bring the broth to a simmer, then add bay leaves, thyme, black pepper, okra, chicken and sausage and allow to thicken. Lower heat and allow to simmer for 20-30 minutes.

4. Finally, add the salt and adjust the spiciness adding more or less red pepper and black pepper as desired.

5. Five minutes or so before serving, add the shrimp with the heat off and lid on. Allow it to cook through residual heat checking it is completely opaque before serving. If you add the shrimp any earlier it will overcook. Don't recommend it.


Laissez les bon temps rouler with a little rice in each bowl and the gumbo served over it, some crackers on the side and a Sazerac to toast!

* * *

Oh we brought out the masks alright!

PS: Shout out to my friend and once-partner-in-crime Simin who is, as we speak, in the Big Easy and hopefully nursing a painful New Orleans-style hangover with copious amounts of Absolut Pepa', Sazeracs and a Muffaletta, like a good girl. Party on Wayne!