Last Night’s Dinner

I have a confession to make. I’ve had a lot of time on my hands since our move, a lot of time to spend puttering around in the kitchen, working on photos and putting together meals. I haven’t been working, you see. And by the time I start my new job next Monday, I will have had an entire month off from working, more time off than I have had since I was a teenager.

It drove me crazy, at first, the time off, the vast stretch of hours ahead of me in any given day in which I could choose to do anything or nothing. I took advantage, sure, taking the time to set up our kitchen, going out to explore our new city, hanging out with friends, but no job means no paycheck, and as you can imagine, that has been a bit limiting.

Though I had questioned the wisdom of moving so much food from our Brooklyn freezer and pantry to our new home in Providence, I’m glad I did, as it has made it far easier to prepare interesting and tasty meals without having to shell out a ton of money for fresh ingredients. I’ve also been able to really stretch the things we have bought fresh, using them in two or three different dishes.

These enchiladas were built almost entirely on pantry staples, leftovers, and odds and ends. Diced potatoes, sautéed until golden with lots of red onion, provided the base of the filling, and reconstituted dried mushrooms added an earthy, meaty bite. The sauce was a smoky combination of grape tomatoes, garlic and more onion, roasted until meltingly soft, then pureed in a blender with the last roasted red pepper lingering in a jar in the fridge, ground chipotle and ground cumin.

The tortillas, left over from a couple of earlier meals, had gotten a little stale, but a quick fry in olive oil and a dip in the enchilada sauce softened them up nicely. I crumbled the rest of a chunk of Narragansett Creamery Queso Blanco over the top of the stuffed enchiladas and baked them until the cheese was soft and burnished. They got a squirt of fresh lime juice at the end, as well as a drizzle of thinned crème fraiche, some chopped radish and fresh cilantro.

And then there were the beans – oh, those beans. Rancho Gordo, of course. Vaquero beans, simmered gently with onion and garlic and bay leaf and oregano until soft, seasoned toward the end with salt and cumin, and then mashed and fried with a little fat until super-creamy. I could marry those beans.

Speaking of marriage, as I’ve mentioned before I usually leave the stunt cooking to my husband, but unlike me Mike has been working very hard since we arrived here and hasn’t had much time for it. I think I’ll take advantage of the time I have left before going back to work to have some labor-intensive fun in the kitchen. Time to put all our fabulous counter space to use, right?

So an American, an Italian and a Mexican walk into a pork store…

Okay, lame joke, but seriously, isn’t it amazing how the same piece of pork can yield three very different meals? I think Mike and I were both surprised that we haven’t felt like we were eating leftovers all week, though we really were. A little creative remixing works wonders.

The third and final embodiment of our pork shoulder was a savory Mexican stew called posole (or pozole, depending on who you ask). I think the most important components of the dish are a good, rich stock and flavorful chile powder, and I was happy that we had both – chicken stock left over from the batch I made Sunday, plus Mike’s take on Alton Brown’s chile powder (which he generally makes with whatever varieties of dried chiles we have in the pantry, so each batch is a bit different).

I began by softening about a cup and a half of diced onion in olive oil, and added three fat garlic cloves which I had peeled and smashed. I seasoned them with salt and allowed the onion and garlic to cook until the garlic was fragrant, then I added a tablespoon or so of tomato paste to a hot spot and allowed it to cook for a few moments before stirring it through. I then added two generous tablespoons of the chile powder to the onion mixture and stirred so the onions were coated. The pork went in next – the shoulder bone along with all the meat still clinging to it, plus the fat I had trimmed off after the initial braising. I added two cups of our chicken stock plus two cups of water, covered the pot and let it come to a boil, then reduced the heat and let it simmer for about half an hour.

The pork that had been left on the bone had mostly fallen off in big chunks at that point, so I removed the meat and bone from the pot and set them aside for a moment. I added two cans of white hominy, drained and rinsed, to the broth, chopped the pork into chunks and returned the meat to the pot. I added the juice of one lime, adjusted the salt, and let the pozole cook for about 10 more minutes before serving. For garnish, I used lime wedges and thinly sliced radishes; you can also use diced avocado, tomato, fresh cilantro or grated cheese.

Mike said that this was by far my best posole yet, and I have to agree with him, though I can’t take all the credit since his chile powder played a major part. But the way the pork bone and especially the pork fat enriched the stock was really something special – using those parts that I might have otherwise discarded or used another way added a wonderful richness to the broth. Our pork shoulder is now gone, but we got three great dinners out of it (four if you count the remaining ragu in the freezer), and I think this cycle was a big success.

I recently received a copy of Judith Jones’ wonderful memoir, and as I read through it (twice!), I spent a lot of time thinking about my own food memories and how I came to love cooking. It all goes back to my paternal grandmother, Marina. Some of my earliest memories involve walking into her big old house in southwest Detroit, the aromas and warmth that emanated from her small kitchen filling every room, or of the showers, First Communions and other parties held at the nearby Mexican-American hall, where Grandma and a small band of her comadres would head into the kitchen and deftly prepare enough delicious food to feed an army of guests. I loved hanging around and watching her in action, and once I reached an age where I began dabbling in the kitchen myself, I wanted to learn how to recreate her dishes.

Grandma’s a natural cook, rarely measuring seasonings, tasting and testing as she goes along, and turning out consistently delicious dishes. I’m sure some of that comes from 80-plus years of cooking, but I also feel that she has the gift of knowing instinctively what works, how much chile or garlic or liquid is just the right amount, and how much is too much. The days of watching her turn out dozens upon dozens of tamales for holiday dinners are behind us, but she still relishes cooking meals, big and small, and she loves watching cooking shows, reading recipes, talking about food, and answering questions about how she prepares the dishes we love. My dad makes his guacamole just like Grandma does, my mom has learned to turn out a nearly spot-on version of Grandma’s rice and has also mastered her chicken tacos, and my brother and his wife were delighted to get a lesson in making migas during their last visit to our hometown.

For my part, I’ve learned to make several of her dishes: borrachos, which are a favorite accompaniment to summer barbecue; guacamole and salsa, which I am often enlisted to make for office socials; and my favorite chicken soup, fragrant with onions and cumin – which incidentally, is the very first recipe I wrote up for a food blog. And of course, her chicken tacos and Mexican rice, which were part of so many family gatherings. I have yet to attempt her tamales, but you can bet that when I have a kitchen with a little more space, I’m going to round up Mike and some good friends for a tamale-making party.

As a bit of an aside, it’s interesting to me that I should be thinking so much about food memories and my grandma’s cooking this time of the year, because although I am of Mexican descent, I don’t recall my family ever celebrating Dia de los Muertos. It is without question a beautiful holiday, with rich traditions and plenty of good food, but I feel that for me to do a Day of the Dead-themed post would be a bit disingenuous – it just wasn’t something we celebrated when I was growing up, and I wouldn’t want to take away from those of you for whom the celebration holds real food memories.

When I reflect on my heritage, my upbringing, and those who have most influenced me both in and out of the kitchen, I think first and foremost of my grandmother, who I love so very much, and who I am grateful to share the love of food and cooking with. We don’t get to see each other as often as we’d like, but every time I step into the kitchen, she is right there with me in some way. So on this day, when Mexicans and Mexican-Americans are celebrating the lives and spirits of loved ones who have passed on, I celebrate my grandmother, who is full of life and who continues to inspire me.

Mexican Rice

I can recall very few meals at Grandma’s house at which this rice wasn’t served – it is as much a staple as warm tortillas and the little Sanka jar filled with homemade salsa.

2 tablespoons vegetable oil, lard or bacon fat
1 medium onion, diced
1 teaspoon kosher salt
2 cups long grain white rice
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 cup tomato puree
2 Knorr chicken flavored bouillon cubes, dissolved in 4 cups hot water (For some reason, if you use other bouillon or stock, it just doesn’t turn out right. So trust me on this one.)

Warm oil or fat over medium heat in a large skillet. Add onion, season with salt, and cook until softened. Add the rice, stirring to coat the grains with oil, and cook until toasted and beginning to turn translucent. Add the garlic powder and black pepper and stir well. Add tomato puree, bouillon and water, stirring well to incorporate. Bring to a boil, then cover and reduce heat to low. Continue cooking until rice is tender and all liquid is absorbed, 20-30 minutes.

Chicken Tacos

The proportions below will yield about a dozen tacos. I’ll warn you right now, they are addictive – Mike and I polished off the full batch in one sitting, and my family has been known to fight over any leftovers. If you have cats, don’t leave them unattended on the countertop – Tom the grey tabby, who belonged to my Aunt Romelia years ago, was on probation for a very long time after my aunt walked into the kitchen to find him happily munching away on the tacos she had brought home from Grandma’s one afternoon.

For the filling:
1 lb. boneless, skinless chicken thigh meat
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1/4 cup tomato puree
2 cups water

Place all ingredients into a small saucepan and bring to a boil. Cover, reduce heat to low and cook until chicken is very tender. Break apart with a fork and continue to cook the shredded chicken, uncovered, until all of the liquid has cooked off (you want it still juicy but nearly dry so it doesn’t make the tortillas soggy).

For the tacos:
Corn tortillas
Oil, lard, or bacon fat for frying

Heat about 1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon of fat in a small skillet. Fry tortillas one at a time until soft and pliable, gently turning once – each tortilla should only take a few seconds per side. Add additional fat as necessary.

As the tortillas finish cooking, set them on a baking sheet until cool enough to handle, then spoon a bit of the filling in the center and roll into small cigars, finishing with the seam side down. Repeat until you have used up all of the filling.

The tacos can be held in a warm oven for a few hours or served immediately with your favorite garnish - salsa, guacamole, grated Monterey Jack cheese, or sour cream are all good with these.

This dish was supposed to happen earlier in the week, but I got sidetracked by sardines, so I put it off for a couple of days. Luckily, the gorgeous poblano peppers I picked up at the Greenmarket on Saturday were still good, so I was able to make chiles rellenos last night.

Chiles rellenos are basically just stuffed peppers, dipped in a light batter and fried until golden, then served on a bed of light tomato broth. The traditional stuffing is picadillo, but it seems the version that appears most often in restaurants in the U.S. is the cheese-stuffed version. I actually prefer the cheesy version, but what I don’t like is ordering rellenos in a restaurant and getting peppers that are encased in such a thick batter that they sit in your stomach like a rock. Making them at home requires a little bit of work, but the result is totally worth it.

To prepare the chiles, place them under the broiler or on a hot grill or burner until the skin is charred and blistered on all sides. Set them aside until they are cool enough to handle, and then carefully peel the skin off. Cut a slit in one side and gently remove any seeds or membranes inside. Stuff each chile with shredded cheese – Monterey Jack, Oaxaca or Queso Quesadilla – and close up the slit with a toothpick. Set the chiles in the fridge for about 20 minutes so they firm up.

For the sauce, I combined a cup of our homemade chicken stock, a cup of crushed tomato, about a teaspoon each of ground cumin and chipotle powder, and a bit of salt in a small saucepan and warmed it over low heat while I got to work on the batter for the chiles. It’s basically Diana Kennedy’s version, though I downsized it just a bit (and still had plenty left over): separate three eggs, add a pinch of salt to the yolks, beat the whites until stiff but not dry, then beat in the yolks one at a time until you have a frothy, pale yellow mixture.

I heated about an inch of oil in a skillet, dusted the stuffed chiles in a bit of flour, dunked them in the batter to coat them, then placed them directly into the hot oil, gently turning them as each side browned. When the chiles were done cooking, I set them on a paper towel to absorb any excess oil and spooned some of the tomato broth onto our plates. I mounded some cumin and lime spiked black beans on top of that, then set the chiles on top.

Wine Pairing: Earlier this week I found a link to pairing wines with typical Mexican ingredients on Rick Bayless’ website, and I was eager to try one of the wines he suggested with our poblanos. Mike picked up this Gruner Veltliner at Union Square Wines, and it was just perfect with our meal, the crispness cutting right through the heat of the chiles.

I’ve been spending a bit of time each week preserving our favorite late spring/early summer produce by cleaning, blanching and freezing things in small batches, so we have been trying hard to make space in our freezer by using up many of our stockpiled proteins. During a recent freezer inventory, I discovered a bag of cubed pork shoulder left over from the piece Mike bought for his last batch of chili. Since the pork was already cut into nice big chunks, I thought it would be fun to season them with a smoky rub, skewer and grill them, and serve them in warm corn tortillas - pork tacos influenced by the ones we get at Matamoros Puebla in Williamsburg.

The cilantro in our garden had gotten so tall that it was beginning to tip over, so I also decided to make my first batch of salsa of the season. While the tomatoes around here aren’t quite good enough yet for a fresh salsa, they work just fine in this version, where the main ingredients are charred over hardwood before being blended to a chunky puree.

To season the pork, I combined a half teaspoon each of garlic powder, onion powder, ground coriander, chipotle powder, smoked paprika and dried oregano, along with one teaspoon each of ground cumin, kosher salt, and adobo from a can of chipotles. I added the pork (about 1 lb.) to the spice mixture and tossed it to coat all sides well, and then let it sit in the fridge until we were ready to grill it.

For the salsa, we placed two whole poblano peppers, four medium-to-large whole plum tomatoes and one red onion (peeled and halved but with the stem end still attached so it wouldn’t fall apart) directly over the hot side of the grill. I also peeled two large garlic cloves, drizzled them with a teaspoon of olive oil, wrapped them up in a small piece of foil and placed that on the grill with the other veggies. We cooked these for about 10-12 minutes total, turning them occasionally. When the skins of the peppers were blackened on all sides and the tomatoes were charred and beginning to split, we pulled them off the grill and I took them inside to cool for a few minutes.

I placed the onion and garlic into a mini chopper and pulsed it until it was chopped pretty fine, then set it aside. I quartered the tomatoes and added them, along with their juices, to my blender. When the poblanos were cool enough to handle, I peeled most of the blackened skin off of them, removed the seeds and stems, and tossed those into the blender as well. The chopped onion/garlic mixture went in next, along with the juice of a lime, a healthy pinch of kosher salt, and a splash of sherry vinegar. I pureed this for just a minute or two, so that it would be relatively smooth but still have some texture, and then I poured the salsa into a bowl and stirred in a handful of chopped cilantro.

While I finished mixing up the salsa, Mike skewered the pork and grilled it (about seven minutes a side, he tells me). He also warmed a stack of tortillas, sprinkled with a little bit of water and wrapped in foil, over indirect heat for a few minutes until they were soft and pliable.

When the pork was done, we pulled it off of the skewers and placed chunks onto our warm tortillas. We topped each taco with a little bit of grated cotija cheese, chunks of radish, and a spoonful of the charred salsa. On the side, I served cumin-spiked black beans, a couple of wedges of lime to squeeze over our tacos, and cold Mexican beer.

The pork and salsa definitely had some heat, but the smoky flavors imparted by the grill, plus the freshness of lime and crunch or radish mellowed them out just a bit. As spring winds down and we head into summer, this was a nice taste of things to come.

I saw a food and travel show over the weekend that inspired me to try a lighter take on chiles rellenos for our meatless Monday dinner. Chiles rellenos are one of my favorite Mexican dishes, but they can tend toward the heavy side with their coating of batter and rich cheese or pork fillings. The dish I saw wasn’t battered at all – the chile was just beautifully roasted and charred, stuffed with a light filling and served atop a smooth sauce. It looked lovely, and I couldn’t wait to try my hand.

This dish needs a bit more tweaking; it was really good, but I think it’s going to be even better in the summer months, when our garden is producing loads of fresh produce and I can char the veggies over hardwood charcoal on the grill. We lucked out and were able to get some really tasty hothouse stem tomatoes at Marlow and Sons, but if you can’t get good fresh tomatoes or if they’re not in season, I think fire-roasted canned tomatoes would work well in the sauce. All in all, I was very pleased with how this turned out, and I look forward to playing with this recipe again.

Black Bean and Roasted Vegetable Chiles Rellenos

4 large poblano chiles
6 medium sized fresh tomatoes, halved
6 whole peeled cloves garlic
Juice of one lime
2 teaspoons good quality chile powder
1/2 teaspoon each ground coriander, ground cumin, and smoked chipotle powder
1/4 cup water
1 can black beans, drained and rinsed well
1.5 cups chayote squash cut into 1/2 inch dice (you can substitute zucchini or yellow squash)
1/2 red onion, cut into 1/2 inch dice
1 red or orange bell pepper, cut into 1/2 inch dice
1.5 cups corn kernels (I used frozen, but use fresh when corn is in season)
Olive oil
Kosher salt
Cotija cheese (a salty, aged Mexican cheese that is similar to Feta)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Line two small baking sheets with foil. On the first, lay the tomato halves cut-side down, scatter the garlic cloves around them, season liberally with kosher salt and drizzle with olive oil, rubbing it on all sides of the tomatoes with your fingers. Place squash, onion, bell pepper and corn on the second sheet, season with kosher salt and drizzle with olive oil, and toss through to coat. Place both baking sheets into the oven and allow the vegetables to roast for 25 minutes.

Roast the poblanos over an open flame or under the broiler until the skins are blistered and charred. Using tongs, place them into a sip-top bag, seal it and set aside for a few minutes; the steam will soften the chiles and make them easier to peel.

Spoon the roasted tomatoes and garlic, as well as any accumulated juices, into a blender. Add chile powder, coriander, cumin, chipotle powder, lime juice and water and puree until smooth.

Remove the roasted diced veggies from the oven and add the black beans to the mixture. Toss gently and set aside.

When the poblanos are soft enough to handle, peel them, cut a slit lengthwise from the stem to the bottom of each pepper, and carefully remove the seeds and membranes. I don’t mind bits of the charred skin, but some people don’t like the taste or texture. I find that it’s easiest to peel them and remove the seeds in a bowl of water – it also helps keep those hot pepper oils from clinging to your skin. Set each cleaned pepper aside on a tray or platter and wash your hands well after discarding the skins/seeds.

Ladle a bit of the tomato-chile sauce onto 4 plates. Spoon about 1/4 of the roasted vegetable and bean mixture into each chile, and carefully transfer the stuffed peppers to the center of each plate. Grate a bit of cheese over each pepper and serve.

Wine Pairing: People generally think of beer or margaritas to accompany Mexican cuisine, but I like Karen MacNeil’s suggestion of pairing a peppery Zinfandel with it. Mike picked up a bottle of Ravenswood Lodi Old Vines Zinfandel, and its spicy and rich fruit notes worked really nicely with this dish.

Back in late January, before I launched this site, I made a vegetarian version of enchiladas which my friend meriko asked me to write up. I was hoping to be able to do so sooner, but things happened and I wasn’t able to get to it right away. When I planned our meals for this week, I decided that, since Mike and I both had today off and we wouldn’t have to rush through dinner, I would make enchiladas for meriko. Well, not specifically *for* her, since she’s in San Francisco and we’re here, but I will say I was thinking of her as I was cooking, and I hope that we can make enchiladas together some day. Anyway, this is for her - call it my (virtual) dinner with meriko.

When brought right down to basics, enchiladas are basically just corn tortillas coated in a chile sauce (en-chilada). The simplest versions I have seen are tortillas dipped in the chile, folded over and served with a grating of Mexican cheese on top, but most people are probably more familiar with the gooey, cheese-laden version. I like to use cheese on and/or in my enchiladas, but I try to go for a balance of flavors, so that the filling, the sauce, the tortillas and the cheese are all present and nothing is overpowering.

The enchiladas I made last night were stuffed with chicken, but once you’ve got the basic technique down, you can stuff them with a variety of cheeses, vegetables, potato, beef or pork… anything you’d like. You can also vary the chile sauce - in the summer months, when we are grilling often, I like making a version using roasted tomatillos and poblano peppers.

This is a dish where mise en place is key - once you’ve started frying the tortillas and coating them in the sauce, you have to work quickly, so it’s important to have everything you need ready.

The Stuffing
If you have leftover cooked chicken, this is a good way to use it up. If you don’t, poach some chicken thighs in a bit of stock until they are cooked through, tear the meat into shreds with a couple of forks, then allow them to cook until all of the liquid has cooked away - as my Grandma would say “boil it dry.” If your chicken is too wet your enchiladas will be too mushy. About 2 cups of cooked chicken should be enough to stuff 8 enchiladas.

The Sauce
To make a basic tomato-chile sauce, I sauteed a few peeled and smashed garlic cloves in a bit of olive oil just until fragrant, then I added one large can of fire-roasted tomatoes with their juice. I put in one large chipotle pepper with some of the adobo sauce it was packed in, then added my dry spices: about a tablespoon each of dried oregano, Mike’s homemade chile powder, ground cumin, and chipotle powder, plus a pinch of salt. I then covered the pan and allowed it to cook over medium heat for about 10 minutes, turned off the heat, and pureed it with my immersion blender until relatively smooth.

This makes more sauce than you will need. Set the sauce aside until you’re ready to dip the tortillas into it, then you can place the rest into a container and refrigerate or freeze it for future use.

At this point, your chicken and sauce are ready, so go ahead and preheat your oven to 400 degrees, and lightly grease a baking dish so you can place your enchiladas directly into it as you finish stuffing and rolling them.

The Fry-and-Dip
This step is crucial - if you skip it, your tortillas will be too brittle and will likely crack when you try to roll them. Just layering sauce on top won’t work - you’ll end up with a mushy, soupy mess.

Warm a shallow layer of oil or lard in a skillet. Place your tortillas one at a time into the hot oil, allowing them to cook about 20 seconds per side, until they are soft and pliable (having asbestos fingertips is helpful, but if you don’t you will want to use silicone-edged tongs and be gentle so you don’t tear the tortillas).

Remove the softened tortillas from the hot oil, allowing the excess to drip back into the pan, then place them directly into the chile sauce, dipping them in to lightly coat both sides, and again allowing the excess to drip back into the pan.

Move the chile-coated tortilla to the baking dish and lay it flat. Add some of your shredded chicken, roll it up tightly, then lay it in the dish seam-side down. Repeat until you have stuffed all of your tortillas.

Spoon a little bit more of the sauce over the top, then add a bit of grated cheese - I used Evans Farmhouse Creamery Historic Chenango Jack.

Place the enchiladas into your preheated oven and let them bake uncovered for about 10 minutes, until the cheese is melted and bubbly. Remove and serve with a drizzle of sour cream or Mexican crema.

Wine Pairing: We drank Ravenswood Lodi Old Vine Zinfandel, which was a nice match for the smoky and spicy notes in this dish.