Author Archive: Dan P.

Just be-causa

Sunday, December 9, 20120

Tuna Causa

Buenos Aires Herald
On Sunday supplement
Food and Wine

Apparently all the predictions are holding true. Peruvian cuisine is the “it girl” of the cuisine world and it seems like every time I turn around here there’s another spot offering either home-style Peruvian food or some version of Peruvian or Andean fusion. Most often the latter seem to be a melding of Japanese into the mix, but there are other Asian influences, Mediterranean, and no doubt any moment, something Eastern European will show up. It’s sort of surprising no one’s opened an Argentine-Peruvian fusion spot yet. It’s coming, you heard it here first.

We’re not immune from the phenomenon, though, given that my partner is Peruvian, so there tends to be a lot of experimentation going on around the house. But most of the time we tend to stick with the tried and true for our own dinners – there’s so much to play with, and, let’s face it, the food is good just the way it is.

So, everyone who remembers their mother’s tuna fish casserole, raise your hand. There were a legion of recipes for that icon of 1950s and 1960s norteamericano cuisine. Let’s face it, there was no other possible use for Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom soup that didn’t involve patching a hole in the drywall. The biggest variation, and cause of many a neighborhood argument, was whether or not it should be topped with crumbled potato chips or French’s fried onion rings. The same argument raged over green bean casseroles, but that was a holiday dish. Tuna casserole was weekly fare.

It turns out that similar arguments were surging throughout Peru. It may actually be that canned tuna is at the root of much evil in global society, and may bear further investigation. The addition of canned tuna to the classic Peruvian mashed potato dish, causa, was no doubt an improvement in the nutritional content of the dish, since prior to that it seems it was not much more than cold seasoned mashed potatoes, but it has also led to arguments amongst the Peruvian foodie community over authenticity and limits on creativity.

Regardless, these days, the tuna causa is ubiquitous throughout the nation, and despite the fancier versions showing up on menus here with shrimp, octopus, chicken, and other proteins, it remains about as classic as it gets without going back to a plain potato dish. Here’s our home staple these days – though we don’t make it every week. My mother might have even been proud to serve this.

Tuna Causa

Potato base:

3 large potatoes
80 ml olive oil
2 tablespoons ají amarillo powder
juice of 1 lemon
salt and white pepper
Boil, peel, and mash the potatoes. Add the olive oil a bit at a time, to taste and until it has a nice smooth consistency. Add the lemon juice. Season with salt, pepper, and the ají amarillo to taste – you could also use chopped or pureed fresh or reconstituted dry peppers – this is a mild yellow pepper (spicier than a bell pepper, but mild). Form it into the base of your presentation on a platter and chill in the refrigerator for ½-1 hour just to firm it up a bit. This dish is generally served cold or room temperature.

Tuna layer:

3 cans of tuna (I like to use the water packed)
1 small red onion, chopped
mayonnaise
salt and white pepper

This is pretty much just a simple tuna salad. Mash the tuna, add the onions and enough mayonnaise just to make it moist and hold together. Season to taste.

Assembly:

Potato base
Tuna salad
1 tomato, seeded and diced
1 avocado, peeled and sliced
1 rocoto or other medium hot pepper
2 hard boiled eggs, sliced
chopped black olives
chopped parsley and cilantro
juice of 1 lemon

You should have a nice, firm mashed potato base to build on. Top with chopped tomato and herbs. Layer the tuna salad on top of that. Next, the avocado slices sprinkled or brushed with the lemon juice so they don’t brown. Then the hard boiled egg slices (you can hard boil your eggs along with your potatoes above, just don’t leave them in the water the entire time) and the pepper rings. Scatter the chopped olives over the whole thing. Set it on the table, ooh and ahh a little, dig in.

A series of recipes and articles that I started writing for the Buenos Aires Herald Sunday supplement, Food & Wine section, at the beginning of 2012. My original proposal to them was to take local favorite dishes and classics and lighten them up for modern day sensibilities. We’re not talking spa or diet recipes, but at the very least, making them healthier in content, particularly salt, fat and portion size. As time went by, that morphed into a recipe column that, while emphasizing food that is relatively “good for you”, wasn’t necessarily focused on local cuisine. At the beginning of 2013 I decided to stop writing for them over some administrative issues, but it was fun while it lasted.

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Buenos Aires Herald, Newspaper articles

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Soup with a chill

Sunday, December 2, 20120

Watermelon gazpacho
Chilled green bean sopu

Buenos Aires Herald
On Sunday supplement
Food and Wine

Anyone who knows me knows that I’d be perfectly happy to live on soup, day in and day out. Well, and maybe pasta. And sushi. And, well, okay, not so much day in and day out, but I like my soup and am happy to eat it on a regular basis. Here in Argentina soup is not a commonplace menu item. There are rich, hearty stews like locro and lentejas, but a simple bowl of soup, other than the sudden appearance of cream of squash soup that seems to happen every fall, is hard to find.

I blame it on Mafalda, the nationally treasured cartoon character who despite not having been published for going on 40 years seems to maintain a massive influence on people’s attitudes about politics, culture, and, soup. She wasn’t much for the stuff, and it seems that devotees of her are not either. There was even a study done in 1998 that showed a remarkable inverse correlation between those who considered themselves fans of hers and those who considered themselves fans of soup.

When hot weather rolls around we start to think about chilled soups here at home. They make great lunches with a nice bit of fresh bread from the oven, or the bakery, and they also make a great start to an evening’s repast. Here are a couple of favourites, just to start the season. I may get a little more elaborate down the line, we shall see.

Watermelon Gazpacho

1 large wedge of watermelon (enough so that the pulp will pretty much fill a standard blender)
1 red bell pepper
1 green bell pepper
1 yellow bell pepper
1 onion
1 cucumber
2-3 chilies
2-3 cloves of garlic
1 bunch basil
60 ml good olive oil
60 ml red wine vinegar
salt and pepper

Some people like their gazpacho pureed, others like it chunky. I fall somewhere in between. I puree a part of it and leave the rest in small dice. If you’re not a watermelon fan, replace the watermelon with 7-8 plum tomatoes and proceed.

Remove as many seeds as you can from the watermelon and take it off the rind. Pack the flesh into a blender along with the chilies, garlic (start with 1-2 each and work your way up until you get the flavor you like), basil, olive oil and vinegar. Blend until smooth, strain to remove any remaining seeds that you might have missed. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Dice the bell peppers, onion and cucumber (peeled or not, your choice) and add to the pureed soup in a large container that will fit in your refrigerator. Chill until it’s quite cold, four or five hours minimum. Serve with a crusty bread loaf and enjoy!

Chilled Green Bean Soup

Everyone makes chilled pea soup, why not do something a little different?

½ kg green beans (either French or Italian – round or flat)
3-4 leeks
1 large potato
2 tablespoons butter
1 liter vegetable stock (from cube or homemade)
1 bunch mint
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon white pepper
½ teaspoon ground cloves
200 ml cream
pea sprouts or watercress to garnish

Clean the leeks well and coarsely chop them. Cook them with the butter over the lowest flame your stove will manage until they’re soft – “sweating” them. Peel and dice the potato and add it to the pot along with the seasonings and the vegetable stock. Turn the heat up, bring to a boil and then simmer until the potato is cooked through.

Meanwhile, “blanch and shock” the green beans and mint. If you ever wondered just what that meant – bring a pot of lightly salted (1 tablespoon/liter, roughly) water to a boil. Add the green beans, trimmed of their ends, and cook until they turn bright green and just soften – about 5 minutes. Add the mint and simmer for just about 10-15 seconds longer. Drain the beans and mint through a colander and then plunge them into very cold, preferably iced, water to stop the cooking and set the bright green color.

When both these components are ready, puree them together in a blender. Add most of the cream, reserve a little for decoration. Chill well, about 4-5 hours. Serve topped with a drizzle of the cream and the fresh pea sprouts or watercress.

A series of recipes and articles that I started writing for the Buenos Aires Herald Sunday supplement, Food & Wine section, at the beginning of 2012. My original proposal to them was to take local favorite dishes and classics and lighten them up for modern day sensibilities. We’re not talking spa or diet recipes, but at the very least, making them healthier in content, particularly salt, fat and portion size. As time went by, that morphed into a recipe column that, while emphasizing food that is relatively “good for you”, wasn’t necessarily focused on local cuisine. At the beginning of 2013 I decided to stop writing for them over some administrative issues, but it was fun while it lasted.

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Buenos Aires Herald, Newspaper articles

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Get your kare on

Sunday, November 25, 20120

Chicken Katsu Curry

Buenos Aires Herald
On Sunday supplement
Food and Wine

When most of us think about curry, we think India and southeast Asia, we don’t immediately think, Japan. And when we think Japan, we think sushi and tempura, we don’t immediately think, curry. But interestingly enough, curry has a history in Japan albeit not a long and involved one – dating back just to the late 1800s when it was introduced by the British during their Indian administration years.

Since that time it has developed into a uniquely Japanese style, definitely milder than the more typical southern continental styles, and making use of different ingredients. At the same time, Indian style curry has become popular, and the original “Western style” curry continues apace. It’s reached the point where many Japanese consider curry, or karē to be a national dish.

Like many curries it’s typically served over rice, though ladling it over thick udon noodles is also popular. The meat and vegetable are typically cooked separately either breadcrumb coated and fried or tempura style, while the curry is cooked as a sauce that is then added to the dish after cooking the other elements separately.

One of our home favorites is katsu curry, one of the most traditional of the Japanese styled versions, and it’s a dish that I’ve not seen on Japanese menus here in town, so it’s a treat to whip it up and enjoy. After all, one of the biggest complaints among the expat community here is the lack of range in Asian dishes available here. Let’s add one to your repertoire!

Although I’m going to give you the recipe for our usual version, with chicken, the exact same recipe can be used substituting in another meat – thick slices of pork or beef, fish fillets, or just vegetables, particularly eggplant slices, all work really well.

Chicken Katsu Curry

4 chicken breasts, cut in 2 cm wide strips
flour
1 egg
breadcrumbs (panko if you have them available)
100 ml olive oil

2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 red onion
3 carrots
4 garlic cloves
2 tablespoons flour
1 tablespoon curry powder (as hot as you like)
1 teaspoon garam masala (spice mixture available in many dieteticas)
1 tablespoon honey
2 tablespoons soy sauce
500 ml chicken stock (or vegetable, fish, etc. – match the main ingredient!)
1 bay leaf
salt to taste

2 green onions

Grate the onion, garlic and two of the carrots. Thinly slice the remaining carrot and set it aside. Over low heat, cook the grated vegetables in the oil until they’re very soft. Add the flour and continue to cook, stirring, for 2-3 minutes to cook out the “raw” flavor of the flour. Add the remaining sauce ingredients and raise the heat. Bring it up to a simmer, turn the heat back down and cook until thick, stirring regularly. Add salt to taste – probably, given the soy sauce, it will need no more than about a half teaspoon. At this point, you can either leave it as is or puree it completely in a blender – either works – remove the bay leaf if you’re going to puree it.

Separately, cook the thinly sliced carrot that you set aside in boiling salted water until the carrots are just softened. Drain and add to the sauce.

Set-up three bowls, one with some flour, one with the egg, beaten with a splash of water, and one with the breadcrumbs. Dip the chicken pieces first in the flour to lightly coat them, then into the egg, let the excess drip off back into the bowl, and then toss in the breadcrumbs to coat well. In a frying pan, heat the olive oil until quite hot and then fry the coated chicken pieces until golden brown on all sides.

Serve over white rice (or noodles, or whatever strikes your fancy) with a ladleful of the sauce atop. Sprinkle with chopped green onions.

A series of recipes and articles that I started writing for the Buenos Aires Herald Sunday supplement, Food & Wine section, at the beginning of 2012. My original proposal to them was to take local favorite dishes and classics and lighten them up for modern day sensibilities. We’re not talking spa or diet recipes, but at the very least, making them healthier in content, particularly salt, fat and portion size. As time went by, that morphed into a recipe column that, while emphasizing food that is relatively “good for you”, wasn’t necessarily focused on local cuisine. At the beginning of 2013 I decided to stop writing for them over some administrative issues, but it was fun while it lasted.

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Buenos Aires Herald, Newspaper articles

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Hopping down the bunny trail

Sunday, November 18, 20120

Rabbit pepperoncino

Buenos Aires Herald
On Sunday supplement
Food and Wine

Tastes like chicken. You know that’s not true, everyone says that to try to get you to eat something different in the lighter meat category. I’ve taken to telling people it tastes like cuy, or guinea pig, a delectable treat throughout the lands of our neighbors to the northwest in Peru. It kind of gets the point across. When it comes down to it, rabbit tastes like, well, rabbit.

With spring firmly arrived, rainstorms and all, the annual season of blackouts already beginning (last year our part of Recoleta got to 19 of them, ranging between 2 hours and 3 days, this week we launched in with a 2-1/2 day stretch already), we’re cooking with gas, on the grill, and by flashlight (for lighting purposes, not cooking, a decidedly ineffective method I’m sure). It’s rabbit cooking time.

If you’ve never cooked with rabbit, the thing to know is that it’s really, really lean. It’s probably got a BMI that would make Kate Moss seem rubenesque. As such, you need to consider a couple of things – adding fat to the dish, and cooking time. The latter has to be either very quickly – usually for the rabbit loin section, or long and slow, for the other joints. I generally find that the best bet is a braise or low heat saute that goes long enough to tenderize the meat.

One of my favorite dishes is based on a Piemontese classic – Coniglio Con la Peperonata. For those of you just not up to trying rabbit (but really, give it a try, it’s delicious), this dish can be made with chicken – it won’t be the same, rabbit and chicken really don’t taste alike, though they’re both mild, but it will still be a tasty dish.

Rabbit with Sweet Peppers

1 1-kg rabbit
60 gm smoked bacon, chopped
1 tablespoon fresh rosemary leaves stripped from the stalk
4 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 fresh bay leaves
250 ml chicken broth
salt and pepper

Cut the rabbit in serving pieces – usually that means cutting six pieces – cut across the body at the front and back of the loin and rib section, then cut each of the three sections in half down the middle. Saute the bacon and rosemary in a mix of the butter and olive oil, then add the rabbit pieces and cook until browned. Add the bay leaves and stock, salt and pepper to taste, and let simmer over low heat for 35 minutes, turning the pieces occasionally. Move to a serving platter.

While the rabbit is simmering:

3 red or yellow bell peppers or a mix
4 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
3 oil-packed anchovies
2 cloves garlic, chopped
handful of parsley, chopped
4 tablespoons red wine vinegar
salt and pepper

Warm the butter with the anchovies and stir until they dissolve. Add the peppers and raise the heat and cook until they’re starting to get limp. Add the garlic, parsley, and vinegar and cook until the vinegar has just evaporated. Season to taste. Pour over the rabbit pieces.

Now, although there are six serving pieces here, a one kilogram rabbit divided six ways, after factoring out the bones, isn’t a whole lot, so I generally recommend figuring on two pieces per person, though that obviously depends on what else you’re serving for dinner. Or, perhaps a light lunch, where one piece may well be enough.

What to drink with this? In Piemonte we’d be downing a bottle of Barbera or a lighter Nebbiolo with it. Neither is common here – the only Nebbiolo I know of produced in Argentina is the excellent one from Familia Cecchin of Maipú, if you can lay your hands on a bottle. There are a few Barberas around, and several blended with other grapes, a perennial favorite is from Famila Adrover in Lujan de Cuyo. Or, a lighter Bonarda, there are many to choose from.

A series of recipes and articles that I started writing for the Buenos Aires Herald Sunday supplement, Food & Wine section, at the beginning of 2012. My original proposal to them was to take local favorite dishes and classics and lighten them up for modern day sensibilities. We’re not talking spa or diet recipes, but at the very least, making them healthier in content, particularly salt, fat and portion size. As time went by, that morphed into a recipe column that, while emphasizing food that is relatively “good for you”, wasn’t necessarily focused on local cuisine. At the beginning of 2013 I decided to stop writing for them over some administrative issues, but it was fun while it lasted.

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Buenos Aires Herald, Newspaper articles

Like lambs in clover

Sunday, November 11, 20120

Grilled lamb salad with pesto

Buenos Aires Herald
On Sunday supplement
Food and Wine

Now that warm weather, maybe even hot weather, has established a firm footing for the year here in BA it’s time to start thinking about lighter dishes that fit that springtime atmosphere. Just two weeks ago I was writing about slow braised lamb shoulder and here I’m about to write about lamb again. After all, I promised in that column that I’d share a recipe for a delicious little spring lamb salad.

Actually, the original recipe more often features leg of kid, or goat, than lamb, but both work beautifully and certainly the leg of lamb is easier to find here. And, goat is a leaner, healthier meat for you, so if you can find it, I highly recommend using it for this dish.

Now I’m not going to claim full credit for this. In Sicilian tradition there’s a classic goat and almond stew called capretto con le mandorle or capretto alle mandorle – “goat with/and almonds”. A few years back New York chef Mario Batali decided to lighten it up and come up with a barbecued goat dish that featured some of the same flavors, but serve it up as a room temperature or just slightly warm salad for summertime. My version is based on his, though he goes the route of slow cooking the whole leg of goat or lamb off to the side of the grill, with indirect heat and slicing it afterwards. And some adjustments in ingredients that I like better.

I do recommend getting yourself in the mood by heading over to YouTube and searching out Jack Strachey’s Lambs in Clover – you’ll be ready to head right to the grill, or stove-top, and start cooking this up. Promise.

Grilled Goat (or Lamb) Salad

Meat:

1 kg leg of goat or lamb (without bone), sliced into serving pieces
1 bunch of mint
2 sprigs of rosemary
6 cloves garlic
2 tablespoons each of coarse salt and cracked black pepper
150 ml olive oil

Blend all ingredients except the meat together to form a smooth paste. Coat the slices of meat in it and leave to marinate for at least two hours – even better if you can leave it overnight.

Fire up your grill or your stove-top bifera or cast iron griddle and get it nice and hot. Cook the meat to your preference – personally I recommend medium rare to medium, no more than that – just be careful not to take it to the point where it gets tough.

Salad:

2 lemons
2 oranges (preferably navel oranges)
75 ml olive oil
1 tablespoon each of salt and cracked black pepper
2 bunches of arugula, washed and shaken dry

Slice the citrus fruits very thinly, remove the seeds, and toss with the olive oil, salt and pepper. Let sit for an hour. Just before you’re ready to serve, toss these on the grill or griddle and let them get just a little bit of charring on all sides.

Spread the arugula out on a serving platter and top with the citrus slices and the pieces of goat or lamb. The dish can be served while the meat is still hot, or left to sit and let the juices commingle, and serve it warm or room temperature.

Pesto:

150 grams almonds (whole or slivered), toasted
20-25 green olives, pitted
1 fresh hot chili
juice of one orange
60 ml olive oil

Blend all pesto ingredients until nice and smooth. Serve dollops over the top of the meat. Feel free to adjust the spiciness with either an extra chili, or if you want less, remove the seeds from the chili already noted.

If I may, I’m going to also recommend a wine with this dish – a fantastic match with a well chilled Syrah/Shiraz or Tempranillo rosado. If you must go full on red, stick with the same grapes but give the wine just a short period chill, maybe 30 minutes in the refrigerator, before serving. Enjoy your spring picnic!

A series of recipes and articles that I started writing for the Buenos Aires Herald Sunday supplement, Food & Wine section, at the beginning of 2012. My original proposal to them was to take local favorite dishes and classics and lighten them up for modern day sensibilities. We’re not talking spa or diet recipes, but at the very least, making them healthier in content, particularly salt, fat and portion size. As time went by, that morphed into a recipe column that, while emphasizing food that is relatively “good for you”, wasn’t necessarily focused on local cuisine. At the beginning of 2013 I decided to stop writing for them over some administrative issues, but it was fun while it lasted.

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Buenos Aires Herald, Newspaper articles

Love your dimples

Sunday, November 4, 20120

focaccia

Buenos Aires Herald
On Sunday supplement
Food and Wine

Almost everyone loves focaccia, the semi-flatbread that is a cross between pizza dough, bread, and the love child of olive oil and salt. Here in Argentina it’s likely the hidden origin behind local favorites fugazza and fugazetta, and I’ve seen some versions that were made on focaccia, but these days, the majority seem to be on a pretty standard pizza base.

The bread’s origins are supposed to have been from the Roman incursions into the area of the modern day Middle East, where they discovered local, unleavened flatbreads – the things that we know today from their descendants of pita, lavash, and similar breads. These were and are used both to dip into sauces and spreads, and as an adjunct to eating by hand, using them as a scoop for whatever’s on your plate. The Romans apparently loved the idea and carted it back with them when they were sent packing.

Now, it’s pretty clear that this was the origin of the pizza, and the dough used for pizza making is definitely more similar to the flatbreads of the Levant. And, focaccia likely came about the same way. The name is an Italian contraction of the original Latin, panis focacius, essentially “bread from the fireplace” – a bread cooked directly in the hearth rather than in an oven or in a mold of some sort.

But what’s the difference between pizza dough and focaccia? For the most part they look fairly similar, other than that the exposed top of the latter gets browned and then drizzled with olive oil, salt and, usually, herbs. There are two big differences though, and they really are quite different breads. Focaccia contains a large amount of olive oil right in the dough, far more than a pizza dough, and also more liquid – a 1:1 ratio wet to dry ingredients. It’s a very wet dough and a bit of a pain to work with, but the results are well worth it to do it right.

If you have a mixer with a dough hook, save yourself a huge amount of effort and use it for this. It’s do-able by hand, but hard work.

Focaccia

½ kg 000 flour, or better yet, high-gluten flour (harina glutinada)
2 teaspoons table salt (10-12 gm)
½ cube fresh yeast (25gm) or 1 packet instant dry yeast
140 ml olive oil
360 ml room temperature water
sea salt
fresh rosemary and/or dried oregano

Sift the flour into a large mixing bowl (if using a mixer, sift into the mixer’s bowl and run it on low to medium speed at this point). Mix the salt into the water and stir to dissolve – this will help distribute the salt better in the dough. Add the yeast, about a third of the olive oil, and two thirds of the water and mix well. Continue to add the water, a bit at a time, until it’s all incorporated.

If doing this by hand, pour another third of the olive oil onto a flat, clean counter surface and turn the dough out onto it (if you’re using a mixer, pour that third of the olive oil into the bowl and turn up the speed to medium-high). The dough will be very wet and sticky, almost like melted marshmallows. That’s fine, it’s exactly the texture you want. Instead of the usual pressing and folding type kneading that we’re used to for bread, you’re going to have to keep scooping up the dough, stretching it out, and sort of slapping it back down – get a good rhythm going of scoop, stretch and slap and just go at it for about 15 minutes. Gradually the dough will get less wet and stick and become very elastic and shiny (it will also incorporate most of the oil on the counter). In a mixer, speed it up to full and it will take about 7-8 minutes to reach the same point.

Put the dough in an oiled container and cover with a clean dish towel and let it rise until doubled in volume, about an hour. Unlike a bread dough, we’re not going to punch it down to knock the air out of it, we want as many of the air bubbles we developed as possible to stay in the dough. Pour about half of the remaining olive oil onto your baking tray, place the dough on it and gently press it out to cover the entire tray (a large pizza pan works well too). Cover with the towel again and let rise until doubled again, roughly an hour.

Use your fingertips and press dimples into the dough at regular intervals. Drizzle with the last of the olive oil. Sprinkle with coarse or flaky sea salt and the herbs. Place in a hot (220°C) oven and bake for 15-20 minutes until it’s golden brown on top and sounds hollow when you tap on either the top or bottom. Let cool. Eat.

A series of recipes and articles that I started writing for the Buenos Aires Herald Sunday supplement, Food & Wine section, at the beginning of 2012. My original proposal to them was to take local favorite dishes and classics and lighten them up for modern day sensibilities. We’re not talking spa or diet recipes, but at the very least, making them healthier in content, particularly salt, fat and portion size. As time went by, that morphed into a recipe column that, while emphasizing food that is relatively “good for you”, wasn’t necessarily focused on local cuisine. At the beginning of 2013 I decided to stop writing for them over some administrative issues, but it was fun while it lasted.

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Buenos Aires Herald, Newspaper articles

We’re on the lamb

Sunday, October 28, 20120

Garrón

Buenos Aires Herald
On Sunday supplement
Food and Wine

Spring has sprung, more or less, the temperature is doing the montaña rusa and the rains they be a falling. Yeah, that’s spring here in BA. One day it’s t-shirt and shorts, the next it’s sweaters and umbrellas. One day it’s ceviche on the patio, the next it’s a bowl of hearty, steaming stew.

In the kitchen, spring is all about bunnies and lambs. Or maybe that’s some sort of proverb. All I know is that once summer rolls around, it’s rare that I’m going a rustic dish of lamb, though, perhaps as the weather warms we’ll come back around to it with a delicious summer dish of thin slices with green olive tapenade, all over a citrus and arugula salad. Remind me about that down the line.

Let’s talk a little bit about sheep. There are a variety of different terms, depending on what part of the English speaking world you’re from. The three most basic are lamb, hogget and mutton, in that order – which are defined by their teeth. Yes, I know, you thought it had something to do with age, and, in some places it may. Or may not. Classically, a lamb has yet to have any “permanent incisors”, in other words, the tooth fairy has yet to visit. A hogget has, at most, two visits from said winged pixie, and a mutton has had more than two.

But, for example, in my home country of the U.S., by law, all of them are called lamb, or at least when they’re served on a plate. It doesn’t mean no one ever serves up a “mutton chop”… chefs are such mavericks. And even among the lambs there is variation – milk-fed lamb, lechon, is unweaned, less than 8 weeks old, and weighs in under 8 kilos; while spring lamb is 3-5 months old, and, not surprisingly, has to have been born in spring.

All too confusing and far less interesting than simply cooking one up, no? This week we’re going to look at a slow cooked lamb dish inspired by a traditional braise from our neighbors to the west in Chile, where typically it’s a way of using the garrón or antebrazo, or, the “forearms” that otherwise tend to end up tossed into stockpots for making broth. In our version, we’re using lamb shoulder, or paleta de cordero, though this will work with lamb leg as well.

Slow Braised Lamb Shoulder

1 kilo of lamb shoulder (weight without bone, so roughly a 2.5 kg shoulder)
1 large onion
3 cloves of garlic
1 tablespoon merkén (a Chilean dried pepper, if not available, use hot paprika – pimentón picante)
250 ml white wine
200 ml carton tomato puree
2 sprigs of rosemary
1.5 liters stock (lamb, beef, vegetable – from “cubes” is fine)
20 ml olive oil
salt and pepper
A choice here – you can have your butcher cut the shoulder into serving pieces if you like, or you can simply remove all the meat from the bones and cook this dish without them. You’ll get a richer braise with the bones in the pot, but, you’ll need a bigger pot.

Heat the oil in a stew pot big enough to hold all the lamb pieces. Brown the lamb pieces on all sides and then set them aside in a bowl for the moment. Add the onion and garlic to the pot and cook until lightly browned. Add the tomato puree and chili and cook for 3 minutes, stirring regularly. Add the wine and cook for about 5 minutes to blend the flavors.

Add the lamb pieces back in and top off with the stock – just enough to reach the same level as the lamb. Bring to a simmer, reduce the heat to a minimum, cover the pot and let it cook for about 2½ to 3 hours, until the lamb is completely tender.

Ladle out about 500 ml of the stock into a separate small pan, preferably a wider one, and place it over high heat – we’re just going to evaporate and concentrate the liquid down to become a rich sauce. When it’s the consistency of a nice gravy, reduced by about 2/3, season it to taste.

While the folks on the other side of the mountain typically serve their braised lamb with either potato or squash purees, much the same side dishes we see here, our favorite is to serve it up with a puré rustico of cauliflower – simply simmering the florets from a medium sized head of cauliflower in salted water until soft and then blending it in blender or food processor with a clove of garlic, a handful of chives, a small tomato, and oft-times, a slice or two of cooked bacon, salt and pepper to taste of course. Add some green vegetable if you like – quickly sauteed green beans are a family fave.

A series of recipes and articles that I started writing for the Buenos Aires Herald Sunday supplement, Food & Wine section, at the beginning of 2012. My original proposal to them was to take local favorite dishes and classics and lighten them up for modern day sensibilities. We’re not talking spa or diet recipes, but at the very least, making them healthier in content, particularly salt, fat and portion size. As time went by, that morphed into a recipe column that, while emphasizing food that is relatively “good for you”, wasn’t necessarily focused on local cuisine. At the beginning of 2013 I decided to stop writing for them over some administrative issues, but it was fun while it lasted.

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Buenos Aires Herald, Newspaper articles

One fine kettle of fish

Sunday, October 21, 20120

Moqueca de peixe

Buenos Aires Herald
On Sunday supplement
Food and Wine

From the Kimbundu language, one of two dialects of Bantu, from the country of Angola, comes the word mu’keka, meaning, more or less, a kettle of fish. Literally, not sort of hot water that one finds oneself in after getting home late from a carousing with friends. It’s a dish that some say is reminiscent of bouillabaisse, but with local African flavors.

And, many of those flavors found their way to the shores of our neighbor to the northeast – after all, Angola was also a Portuguese colony, so it’s not a surprise that, shall we say, they imported a few folk from east to west. When the Portuguese arrived in the sixteenth century, they brought many traditional recipes from their culture, but not their traditional ingredients. Corn, cassava and manioc (or yuca) replaced the classic fava beans, rice and yams in various dishes.

Some of what are now the most important ingredients in Brazilian cuisine were brought from Africa by slaves, who carried with them their own culinary traditions – the dende palm and the oil of its fruit and new species of chilies like the fiery little malagueta pepper. In particular, the northeast region of Bahia makes use of many of these African ingredients and traditions.

And, one of the region’s most famous dishes is the moqueca, the word a simple re-spelling of where we started this column. At its heart it is the traditional African stew, but it brings in a touch of that Portuguese sort of fish chowder – a dish which if you think about it is a New England derivation of the Portuguese settlers to that part of the U.S., fused with a bit of British sensibility.

Now, there are probably as many recipes for moqueca as there are Bahians, and since the dish has spread from that region to nearly become a national dish, we can guess that there are millions more versions – in fact the original that I learned came from a Sao Paolo based chef. Not surprisingly here at home, we’ve spiked up the spices a bit, adding in a bit more chili and also a touch of ginger, and bit by bit changed the proportions of ingredients to fit our personal tastes. That’s just the way we roll around here.

Our Kettle of Fish – Moqueca de Peixe

1½ kg of pollack (abadejo) or other white fish, remove bones and cut in cubes
½ kg of squid, body cut in strips, tentacles separated
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
2 teaspoons grated fresh ginger
1 large onion, chopped
2 tomatoes with skin and seeds removed, chopped
1 red bell pepper cut in thin strips
1 green bell pepper cut in thin strips
6 pickled malagueta peppers, chopped
1 small bunch cilantro, chopped
1 small bunch of basil, chopped
250 ml of coconut milk
juice of 1 lemon
4 tablespoons dende oil
6 tablespoons olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

In a wide pot (traditionally a heat proof ceramic pot), saute the onion, garlic and ginger in the oils, mixed together. Add the cubes of fish, squid, coconut milk and lemon and then scatter the remaining ingredients over the top, herbs last. Leave to cook over low heat without stirring, letting everything sort of slowly cook down until thickened, roughly 25-30 minutes. Serve over white rice cooked with bay leaf, with hot sauce on the side.

Notes on the ingredients: Dende oil is a vividly orange oil that comes from a palm tree. It has a unique aroma, one that when it first hits the heat reminds people, strangely, of a giraffe’s cage at the zoo. That dissipates rapidly and it imbues the dish not only with a lovely earthiness, but also a bright yellow-orange color. You can find it here in dieteticas and some specialty food shops, but if you don’t encounter it you can mimic the color with a teaspoon of turmeric.

Malagueta peppers are small, medium hot chilies that are found here pickled and packed in jars – your best bet is Barrio Chino, but you may find them in some gourmet food shops as well. If not, the local small pepper known as aji lino will do in a pinch.

Finally, if you’re not a fan of squid, substitute another shellfish or leave it out entirely and just add another ½ kg of fish to the pot.

A series of recipes and articles that I started writing for the Buenos Aires Herald Sunday supplement, Food & Wine section, at the beginning of 2012. My original proposal to them was to take local favorite dishes and classics and lighten them up for modern day sensibilities. We’re not talking spa or diet recipes, but at the very least, making them healthier in content, particularly salt, fat and portion size. As time went by, that morphed into a recipe column that, while emphasizing food that is relatively “good for you”, wasn’t necessarily focused on local cuisine. At the beginning of 2013 I decided to stop writing for them over some administrative issues, but it was fun while it lasted.

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Buenos Aires Herald, Newspaper articles

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