Friday, October 29

Beef Empanadas II

This is a continuation of the Beef Empanada I recipe

Part II
Ingredients

1 lb of ground beef
1 small onion, roughly chopped
2-3 garlic cloves, crushed and diced
4-5 black olives, chopped
1/2 c, or thereabouts, of dark raisins
2 boiled eggs, peeled and cut into eighths
diced habanero, al gusto
cumin, cinnamon and nutmeg
salt and pepper
1 T olive oil
1 lime, cut in half
1 egg yolk
1 T milk


I start by cooking the onions, garlic and habanero with the cumin, cinnamon and nutmeg over medium heat (I add these spices by eye). Once the onions are translucent, I add the ground beef and cook until brown, stirring once in a while.  Lower heat, cover, and allow the meat to simmer for 15-20 min.

Add the raisins and olives, stir and cover once again.  Cook for another 20-30 minutes, allowing the flavors to mix.  Add a couple squirts of fresh lime juice. Season with salt and pepper if necessary. If I've planned ahead, I like to let the meat sit in the fridge overnight with the oils and spices to enhance the flavors.

Preheat oven to 400 F. Take the prepared dough and place about 1 T of the mix in the middle of each disc.  Add a small slice of egg to each disc.  Fold over and crimp edges of the empanada.

Whisk together the milk and egg yolk.  Brush onto empanadas. Bake 25 minutes, or until golden brown.  Transfer to rack and cool 5 minutes.  Serve with a slice of lime and some aji amarillo.

The guys like them with a nice cold beer, in this case we had our local favorite, a Brooklyn Pilsner. Was it a coincidence that the night I made these we had a dude-fest at the house? I think not.

Thursday, October 28

Beef Empanadas I

Part 1


Marina has been a fixture in the Crousillat and Freeman households for three generations.  She was first hired by my grandma, Trixie,  as help around the house.  She cooked and cleaned.  She was uncle Colin's nanny. When the third generation was born, she took care us.  Feeding us, playing with us, cleaning up after us. Later on in life she worked as caregiver to my grandfather Oreste before he passed away.

She never married, never had a family.  She devoted a great part of her life to us.

Marina
Born in the province of Ancash, Marina left her village and never looked back.  Now, in her late 70's, she lives in a little room in Lima. I owe a great part of who I am, and my love for food, to Marina. This recipe is dedicated to her.

Cordillera Blanca, Ancash Province



As she was often around in my childhood, I spent a lot of time with her in the kitchen. From the age where I was old enough to bang on pots and pans, to my teens when I would hide from the stresses of family life in the warmth of her cocina. All that time I would watch her cook. Sometimes she'd even let me help.

One of her more memorable recipes was for papa rellena.  I've tried recreating it to no avail (I blame it on the lack of fresh papa amarilla in the States).  But I have found that her stuffing - a combination of ground beef, cinnamon, cumin, raisins, olives and eggs - works amazingly well in the traditional empanada. It may not be anything original, but I learned it from her.

Since the recipe is quite long, I've split it into two parts.  This first part will cover the dough.

Ingredients

2 1/4 c all-purpose flour
1 1/2 t salt
1 stick (1/2 c) cold, unsalted butter, cut into 1/2 in cubes
1/3 c ice water
1 large egg
1 T white vinegar

1. Sift flour and salt into a large bowl.  Blend in butter with fingertips until mix resembles a coarse meal with some roughly pea-size butter lumps.


2. Beat together egg, water and vinegar in a small bowl.  Add to flour mixture, stirring with fork until just incorporated.  The mix will look shaggy.

 3. Turn the mixture onto a lightly floured surface.  Gather and knead gently once or twice, just enough to bring the dough together.  Form the dough into a flat rectangle, wrap in plastic, and chill for at least one hour. While you wait, make the filling.

4. Once the filling is done, divide dough into 12 equal pieces and form each into a disc.  Keep remaining pieces covered and roll 1 piece into a 5 inch round (about 1/8 in thick). Repeat step for the rest of the discs.




Wednesday, October 27

Acorn Squash Quinotto


Experimenting in the kitchen

Last weekend I went up to Jackson Heights to visit a friend.  After a long and fulfilling meal at Urubamba, we passed by some grocery stores where I did my fair share of shopping for Peruvian products. Among my spoils were cancha, yuca, aji (amarillo y rocoto), olluquito and quinoa.

I have never actually cooked with quinoa before, so I thought it'd be an interesting experiment to make some quinotto, a Peruvian version of risotto (as per my dad's suggestion).  I have the bad habit of never following recipes...or better said, making things up as I go along.  In this case, I wanted to use ingredients that were already in my kitchen.


Those included the quinoa, acorn squash (roasted, peeled and chopped), baby spinach, pancetta and parmesan cheese. Usually, if I had a bottle of white wine in the fridge, I'd pour a little in.  But in this case I didn't, so I added a little bit of beer instead (what the hell?). The thing I liked about the quinoa is that it doesn't require quite the same amount of tending and supervision as a traditional risotto.  I just ladle in the broth and wait for it to be soaked up.  Minimum stirring necessary.
 
The whole thing took about 20-25 min. Topped it off with some pepper (no salt needed, in this case the beef broth was salty enough) and a little more parmesan before serving.  My guinea pig was Jeremy, who said it was good, but no more than a glorified side dish.  I bear in mind that he is quite critical of meals without meat.


Tuesday, October 26

Toya's Asado

It stands to reason that one's identity can be very much influenced by food.  I am a Peruvian born American.  A Peruvian-American.  Or is it American-Peruvian?  Chola in the States and gringa south of the border. As a 7-year old transplanted from the violence of Lima to the quiet suburbs of Maryland, contesting these two identities has, more often than not, played a large and confusing role in my life.

My first memories of food are with my grandmother, Toya, who would often take me on her daily errands to large, open-air markets at a time when Lima did not have grocery stores.  In the meat section we would walk through aisles of hanging animal carcasses, pools of blood dripping onto the cracked concrete floor, and into the fresh and vibrant fruit and vegetable stands.  Back at home we would sit at the dinning table and shuck what seemed like an endless pot of fresh peas for Toya's famous split-pea soup.


Toya, Oreste, Cesar and Quique (Dad)

I love food.  Eating it, cooking it, buying it and sharing it.  I love the relationships food builds, the community it creates.  And I have to thank my grandmother for first exposing me to that world. Food can bridge divides.  It has helped me to converge my two identities.  I can be Peruvian and American when I cook.  And it makes for some very interesting recipes. I don't have her split-pea soup recipe.  The only one of her recipes that has been passed down is her asado.  A source of much nostalgia for both my sister and I (and I'm sure my cousins, dad and uncle too).


Ingredients:
Eye of round roast (2 lbs)
1 lime
1 medium red onion, roughly chopped
2-3 T cumin
1 liter Coca-Cola 
5 oz soy sauce


This recipe's claim to fame is that two of its main ingredients are soy sauce and Coca-Cola, a true testament to Peru's multi-cultural heritage. There are no real measurements for this recipe.  They were not passed down. So each time I make this pot roast, I experiment with the quantities.  I always use 1 lime, which is squeezed and rubbed over the meat along with the cumin.


I sautee the onions, and then brown the meat on all sides over medium high heat . Then I add the Coke and soy sauce, top it off with water (until half the meat is covered with liquid), cover, and let simmer at low heat for 3-4 hours, adding water as the sauce reduces.










While the roast cooks, I prepare rice and an encebollado: a mixture of thinly sliced onions, diced habanero peppers (in Peru we'd use aji amarillo), lime juice, olive oil, salt and pepper. This will be one of the two sauces served with the meat.


I usually serve it with a side salad, some aji  (in paste form) and a cold beer.