Buenos Aires Herald

Inbre(a)d

Sunday, February 5, 20120

Empanadas

Buenos Aires Herald
On Sunday supplement
Food and Wine

Argentina is known far and wide for its beef, and aficionados will argue the fine points of cooking and presentation at any asado. Yet probably no other item from the country’s cuisine engenders quite so much passion as the defense of one’s favorite empanada. Arguments range from “my grandmother made criollas that your grandmother wasn’t fit to crimp” to “my favorite place has the most perfect… baked, fried, cut beef or ground, potatoes, olives, eggs, onions, or raisins, included or not… and I’ll take you there and prove it.” Culinary historians carry on about the origin of this bread enveloped pastry, tracing it back to Galicia in Spain, or perhaps to ancient Persia. To hear some of them natter about the subject, we’d need carbon dating to settle on their origin.

It should come as no surprise to find that every culture on the planet has some similar dish – from Middle Eastern fatays, to Asian pot-stickers, to the Scandinavian or Cornish pasty, to a classic savory turnover from France or an Indian samosa. Yet, there is something uniquely Latin American about the empanada. The dough is not unique in the pastry world, most often made from simple white flour, eggs, water, and lard or suet. The fillings range from beef to pork to chicken to fish to vegetables. The spices vary in accordance with local favorites throughout South and Central America and the Caribbean. The additions are too numerous to consider. Yet there’s something about them, when one picks them up, hot and juicy, that fits the Latin culture.

Argentines would argue that theirs are the best. Certainly there is a wide variety of regional styles, thankfully most of them are available here in Buenos Aires, including examples from neighboring countries, removing the need to hop on a colectivo and travel province by province to sample them. Here we can find garlicky, spicy catamarqueñas, chock-full of potatoes, green onion packed salteñas, (not to be confused with the Bolivian salteña version which is a whole different thing), white onion filled sanjuaninos, touches of tomato and various cheeses in the tucumanas, salmon and tuna from the shore or packed into Chilean styles, lamb and wild mushrooms from Patagonia, pumpkin based Venezuelans, and finely ground goat or lamb meat in the arabe styles. Cheese filled, corn filled, vegetable laden, or a wide variety of meats abound. Local shops may offer specialty versions, and it is worth seeking out something like smoky pancetta and plum, or spicy sausage and green onion, or even an Italian knock-off like a napolitana.

I’m going to guess that most people aren’t going to take the time to make and form their own shortcrust or puff pastry, and there are plenty of tapas available in any supermarket that work just fine. Here’s one of our favorite, lighter fillings that never fails to wow visiting friends.

Patagonian Style Mushroom Filling

400 grams mixed mushrooms
1 small onion, chopped
1 small chili pepper, chopped
25 ml olive oil
25 grams flour
120 ml fat free or reduced fat milk
salt, pepper
Smoke flavoring (or use smoked salt in place of the plain salt above)
oil

Put the oil and flour in saucepan over low heat, and cook, stirring occasionally, for about 10 minutes. Warm the milk (a minute in the microwave is just fine) and add to the mixture, turn the heat up to medium and cook, stirring continuously, until it thickens. Set aside.. Saute mushrooms, chili and onion in oil until browned. Combine with the white sauce (bechamel). Add a couple of drops of liquid smoke flavoring and then season to taste. Let cool before using. Place a heaping tablespoon onto each empanada tapa and then fold over and crimp to seal. Bake in a 180°C oven for 15 minutes until puffed and golden brown.

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

Revuelto

Sunday, January 29, 20120

Revuelto Gramajo 2.0

Buenos Aires Herald
On Sunday supplement
Food and Wine

Sometimes when a recipe is named after someone famous the story is relatively well known. Other times, it’s not, as in the case of the origins of one of Argentina’s iconic dishes, the revuelto gramajo, or “Gramajo’s scramble”. Not only does the legend of the dish have more than one version, but two different Gramajos as the possible origin. At its most basic, the dish is a plate of scrambled eggs with ham, onions, and fried potatoes.

First off, there’s Colonel Artemio Gramajo, adjutant to General Julio Roca during the late 1870s campaign to conquer the “desert”. The colonel, a roly poly sort, was a bit of a gourmand, a bit of a dandy, and, apparently, a fairly accomplished cook. There are three versions of his part of the legend. The most common is that prior to heading out into the battlefield he’d been accustomed to starting his days with a couple of fried eggs, a slab of ham, and some potato and onion hash browns. Preparing all of the items in a tent became a bit of a chore, but being unwilling to give up his beloved morning platter, he fried up the onions and potatoes in a skillet, threw in some chopped up ham, and scrambled in a couple of eggs. Not as pretty, but got the job done.

Version two of the story is similar, but asserts that he put it together for Roca’s breakfast preferences. And, version three has it that this all happened post-war in 1880, when he was ensconced at El Club del Progreso, and regularly insisted on preparing his own breakfast – one day deciding that the detail work of separate cooking of the components was just too much to take on, and, voila!

Bringing in a different Gramajo, Arturo, a socialite, a touch of playboy, later married with children and city superintendent of Buenos Aires. The story is that he was in Paris, staying at the Hotel Ritz, and one day just insisted on preparing his own breakfast, basically throwing together a scramble of whatever looked good sitting on the counter. While it’s not impossible that a 20-something Arturo would have been cavorting about in Paris in the early 1880s he wasn’t yet a particularly well known figure in Argentine society. Given that the revuelto was all the rage in the late 1880s and early 1890s, and has continued to be a staple of local cuisine since, it just seems unlikely that something a kid threw together one morning in a Paris hotel after a night of carousing would become a dining hit back home within moments. I’m not going to say it couldn’t be so, but to me it makes more sense that the influence of military leaders like Roca and Artemio G would have had that impact on their return from the campaign. As to which of the three Artemio stories is the most likely, I think we’ll never know.

As to the dish itself, the traditional deep fried potatoes, butter browned onions, cooked or cured ham and eggs, is basically a heart attack on a plate. Continuing on our quest to lighten things up a bit, here’s our Revuelto Gramajo 2.0, for two.

6 eggs, beaten
1 medium onion, thinly sliced
1 medium potato, peeled and cut in thick matchsticks
100 grams cooked fresh or frozen peas
200 grams roast pork loin, sliced in strips
3 tablespoons olive oil
200 ml low salt vegetable stock
6-8 stalks parsley, chopped
salt and pepper

Between the fat of the butter and ham and high levels of salt in the latter, there’s a lot to love and a lot to lighten. In a frying pan, put the stock, potatoes and onions and cook over low heat until all the liquid is absorbed and the vegetables are soft, about 30 minutes. Add the olive oil, turn up the heat, and stirring gently, lightly brown them. Add the remaining ingredients, a pinch of salt and a few grinds of pepper, reduce the heat and, mixing it all together well, cook until the eggs have just barely set.

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

Colonial fish

Sunday, January 22, 20120

Pejerrey a la colonial

Buenos Aires Herald
On Sunday supplement
Food and Wine

I am regularly reminded by locals, expats and visitors that there simply is no good fish here in Argentina, except maybe in Patagonia. And just as regularly I find myself arguing to the contrary. While it is true that until a few years back there were no decent supply lines bringing in good quality fish to the capitol, that has all changed over the last decade. There are now excellent seafood shops scattered around the city, ranging from the inexpensive markets of Barrio Chino to exclusive suppliers dotting the streets of Palermo, Recoleta, Retiro and San Telmo, at the very least.

The next comment that follows up the argument is always something to the effect of “I don’t know what any of these fish are, I’ve never heard of them.” To me, that’s not a reason to not try them, it’s a reason to either look in a dictionary and find out what finned creature is laid out on ice in front of you, or, just take some home and give it a try. But, I understand the “need to know” imperative.

Let’s start with the pejerrey, or South American Silverside family, genus: Odontesthes, with several species, including platensis, bonariensis and others. The most common eating fish locally is probably the bonariensis, or Argentine Silverside. These are not generally big fish – tending to be about 15 to 25 cm long, and very thin. The meat is gleaming white, with a silvery sheen or stripe on the outside. They have a fairly delicate flavor, and unfortunately these days are usually served up battered and fried and therefore indistinguishable from any other fish, or smothered in salsa roquefort, a strikingly pungent blue cheese sauce that masks any possibility of knowing what lies beneath it.

One of my favorite recipes for this fish, one that gives plenty of flavor from the preparation but still leaves the delicacy of the fish to shine through, is a dish called Pejerrey a la Colonial. It is a dish that’s rarely seen on a menu anymore, but at one time was popular in Argentina – as best I can determine, somewhere around the late 50s and early 60s. It’s a shame that it has disappeared from local restaurants because it’s a delicious preparation that hits all the right notes – essentially napping the fillets of simply sauteed fish in a rich and tangy mustard cream and butter sauce. During hot summer months it can seem a bit heavy despite being a fish dish and so we’ve lightened it up a bit, changing out the oil and butter for good olive oil and bringing in yogurt to replace the heavy cream (this also works well with lowfat versions of local sour cream substitutes like Casa ‘n Crema or Mendicrem).

Pejerrey a la Colonial, Light

4 pejerreyes, approximately 20cm in length, cleaned and filleted (8 fillets)
2 medium onions, chopped
2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
120 ml dry white wine
200 ml lowfat, unsweetened yogurt
35 gm Dijon mustard, preferably with seeds
3-4 stalks of parsley, leaves chopped
sweet paprika (pimentón dulce) to sprinkle over
3 tablespoons olive oil
salt and pepper

Lightly salt and pepper both sides of the cleaned fillets (if they’re not already prepared, remove the heads, tails, fins and bones to leave clean fillets) and saute them in a pan quickly over medium heat, two minutes on a side. Remove them and set them aside (if you can, maintain them warm, in a low heat oven). In the same pan, without changing the oil, cooked the sliced garlic and chopped onions until soft and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the wine and bring to a simmer, letting most of the liquid be absorbed into the onion mixture. Add the yogurt and mustard, stir well to smooth out the sauce and adjust seasoning with salt and pepper to taste. Serve two fillets to each diner, spoon some of the sauce over each end of the fillets, leaving the center length uncovered, and then sprinkle the whole thing lightly with the paprika and chopped parsley. Delicious accompanied with boiled potatoes.

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

Locro, taking wing

Sunday, January 15, 20120

Locro

Buenos Aires Herald
On Sunday supplement
Food and Wine

We’ve heard it all before. We’ve been bombarded by news and websites and tweets and posts. We’ve been China Studied and Eating-ed Animals until we’re ready to crawl into a box with a milk fed calf and join in. And the truth is, we’re really not that interested. It’s not that we don’t want to live longer and healthier lives, we’re just not going to live them out of a salad bowl filled with fair trade, hand-picked greens harvested by indigenous people living down the block, growing plants with their own family’s waste products.

Because while dining as a locavore/herbivore may be dandy for all the folk who just “eat to live” and imagine their lifespans stretching into eternity while day trading, some of us “live to eat” and prefer to imagine a significantly shorter mortal coil while indulging in mouth-watering treats. And we’re not fooled by “it has the taste and texture of” adverts, because the only people who truly believe that are ones who never had the original, and likely are the same ones who keep infomercials doing brisk business offering shoes that guarantee to take off 20 kilos within 17 minutes.

We know there needs to be some balance, and we’ve already added in the shared salad, switched from fries to mashed, and gone for the half entraZa instead of the kilo lomo. And while I’m not here to convince you I can take a traditional, artery stopping recipe, flip it around so it can get a cute little heart symbol tacked on, and have it “taste just like the original”, I am convinced we can make a delicious version of a classic dish or three that might not add another layer of plaque to our carotids. Why not start by lightening up a classic locro stew for summer?

1 cup dried white corn
2 ears of fresh yellow corn, cut the kernels off the cobs
2 medium white onions, chopped
2 cloves of garlic, sliced
2 1-cm thick slices of smoked turkey breast, cubed
4 chicken thighs
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon sweet paprika
1 teaspoon hot paprika
½ teaspoon of ground black pepper
2 bay leaves
1 teaspoon liquid smoke
½ butternut (anco) squash, peeled and diced small
1 large sweet potato, peeled and diced small
1 large potato, peeled and diced small
2 plum tomatoes, cut in small wedges
salt
2 tablespoons olive oil

Soak the dried corn in water overnight. In a large pot, cook the onions and garlic in the olive oil over medium heat until they’re soft. Add in the meats, fresh corn, cumin, paprikas, bay leaves, liquid smoke, black pepper and a large pinch of smoked salt and continue cooking for ten minutes. Add the vegetables and soaked corn kernels, water and all, and add water to a level 5cm above the level of the ingredients. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to lowest setting, cover and simmer for 2 hours. Every 20 minutes or so give it all a stir. Fish out the four chicken thighs, you can leave them whole or remove the meat from the bones and shred it. Use a wooden spoon or spatula and press the vegetables against the side of the pot, working your way around until about a quarter of it is mashed up and thickens the soup. Add smoked salt to taste. Add the chicken back in if you’ve shredded it, otherwise just put one thigh in each serving bowl – ladle the soup into the bowls. Add fresh chopped chilies if you like it spicier. Serves 4 as a full dinner.

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

That’s Amore, the Pizza Story

Sunday, January 8, 20120

Pizzas a la parrilla

Buenos Aires Herald
On Sunday supplement
Food and Wine

Let’s start with a little history. You all remember the Roman Empire, occupying the Holy Land and all that. There was a kid, started a religion… long story. Here’s the thing, there was this local flatbread, called matzoh, and while the Roman soldiers liked it, they thought it lacked a little… focus, or hearth – that is, matzoh was traditionally just baked on hot stones, and the Romans were used to things coming out of a wood-fired oven. The story is really lost in antiquity, and this is more legend, but, what the heck? Some historians claim it came from the neighboring Greek Empire, where a flatbread called plankutos was used essentially as a dinner plate. A little work on the recipe, a little charring in the fire, picea as it was described in Latin – meaning a charred crust – and soon Roman housewives, especially those from the poorer parts of Italy around Naples, were making the pre-cursor to Neapolitan pizza, generally considered to be “the classic”. The dough was made from flour and olive oil or lard, and topped with cheese and herbs just to give it flavor. Other historians claim the name comes from the Italian verb pìnsere, meaning to press something out – let’s face it, we’ll probably never know.

Tomatoes, you might remember, didn’t come along until they were brought back from Mexico and Peru – post-Columbus, in 1596 – half a millennium after the “invention” of pizza. Even then, they were only slowly accepted, as, at first, they were thought to be poisonous (originally the plant was brought back as a decorative household plant). Pizza was considered a peasant dish until Queen Maria Carolina of Naples convinced her husband, King Ferdinand IV, to serve it up – more or less as a lark – at a state dinner in the late 1700s.

While grilled pizza was introduced in the United States at the Al Forno restaurant in Providence, Rhode Island by owners Johanne Killeen and George Germon in 1980, it was inspired by a misunderstanding in translation that confused a wood-fired brick oven with a grill. Grilled pizza did exist prior to 1980, both in Italy, and in Argentina where it is known as pizza a la parrilla. It has become a popular cookout dish, and there are pizza restaurants that specialize in the style. Grilled pizza is created by taking a fairly thin irregularly-shaped sheet of a yeasted pizza dough, placing it directly over the fire of a grill, and then turning it over once the bottom has baked and placing a layer of toppings and a drizzle of olive oil on the baked side. Toppings are generally as thin as possible to ensure that they heat through, and chunkier toppings such as sausage or peppers must be precooked before placing on the pizza; it is not uncommon to add garlic, herbs, or other ingredients to the crust to maximize the flavor of the dish. Grilled pizza can also be cooked on a stove-top grill or griddle.

Grilled Pizza Dough

90 grams bread flour
4 tablespoons whole wheat flour
1 tablespoon cornmeal
¼ teaspoon sugar
1 packet dry yeast
240 ml warm water
1 tablespoon olive oil
Mix water, sugar and yeast together and let sit until the yeast proofs. Mix in remaining ingredients and knead until smooth and elastic. Cover and let rise in a warm place until double in volume. Punch down, wrap in plastic, and then ideally chill this dough for a minimum of one hour, up to 3 days.

Roll out very thinly – less than ½ cm thick and then place directly onto a very hot grill (outdoor or indoor). Cook until the bottom is browned, then flip. Brush the top with olive oil, top with toppings, and cook just until the crust is done and the toppings are warmed. This type of pizza is best with very thinly sliced, simple ingredients, often greens and some sort of cured meats (mortadella and arugula is a favorite) – not piled up. It doesn’t lend itself to cheese pizzas (although a grating of parmesan is common), though if you wish to make one, place it onto a baking sheet after briefly cooking the second side on the grill – just enough to lightly brown it – then top the pizza and then stick it under the oven to melt and brown the cheese.

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