If you're looking for a new marinade for the next time you grill, you absolutely should try carne asada.
It's so easy to prepare, it barely requires a write-up! The acidic fruit juices and vinegar help tenderize the meat, flank steak in our case. (If you're preparing chicken or fish, though, don't let it marinate for nearly as long.) You can definitely taste the beer, so make sure you use one that you'd like to drink on its own. And, the sugars in the marinade will caramelize a bit on the grill... So tasty.
Here's how I made mine.
Mix together the following in a large bowl or dish:
¼ cup oil
1 bottle of beer
½ cup orange juice
Juice of 3 limes
6 cloves garlic, crushed but left whole (chop or mince it for more intense flavor)
2 Tbsp red wine vinegar
1 Tbsp Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp dried cilantro
1 tsp coriander seed
Salt and freshly cracked black pepper, to taste
Marinate a 2 lb. flank steak overnight. Baste the steak with leftover marinade while it grills. Enjoy!
Friday, April 6, 2012
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Ajiaco
We have a guest chef this evening, folks!
Just as I started cooking tonight's dish, I received an unexpected phone call that kept me busy for the next hour. Thankfully, my wife jumped in and took over and we enjoyed a delicious dinner as planned. PHEW!
Ajiaco is a chicken and corn stew that's quite popular in Colombia, and now in our home as well! Stewing the corn cobs adds a freshness to this dish that I didn't expect, but eating them is tricky (cut off the kernels and stew the bare cobs, which are then easy to remove, to achieve the same flavor). That little bit of cayenne goes a long way and gave the dish a surprising kick. And, we both ate yuca (also known as cassava) for the first time! It's very mild and starchy, like a potato, and slightly sweet.
All in all, I love this recipe and it was a snap to make. (Right, honey?!) Here's how my wife made ours:
2 Tbsp butter
3 lbs chicken, cut into bite-sized pieces
1 onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
1 cup chicken stock
3 cups low-fat milk (We used 1% lactose-free, and it worked perfectly.)
2 lbs yuca, peeled and cut into 1" pieces
4 ears corn, shucked and cut into 1" rounds
Juice of one lime
Melt the butter in a large soup pot over medium-high heat, and cook the chicken till it's no longer pink. Remove the chicken and set aside. Sauté the onion, garlic, cayenne and paprika till the onions soften, about 5 minutes. Then, put the chicken back into the pot along with the stock, milk, yuca and corn. Bring this mixture just to a boil, then reduce the heat to low and simmer for till the yuca is tender, about an hour. Add the lime juice right before serving.
Cook's Note: The original recipe says to serve this stew with slices of bread that have been toasted in the oven till golden, like giant croutons. I bet that would be really tasty, but we forgot to buy some bread... Whoops!
Just as I started cooking tonight's dish, I received an unexpected phone call that kept me busy for the next hour. Thankfully, my wife jumped in and took over and we enjoyed a delicious dinner as planned. PHEW!
Ajiaco is a chicken and corn stew that's quite popular in Colombia, and now in our home as well! Stewing the corn cobs adds a freshness to this dish that I didn't expect, but eating them is tricky (cut off the kernels and stew the bare cobs, which are then easy to remove, to achieve the same flavor). That little bit of cayenne goes a long way and gave the dish a surprising kick. And, we both ate yuca (also known as cassava) for the first time! It's very mild and starchy, like a potato, and slightly sweet.
All in all, I love this recipe and it was a snap to make. (Right, honey?!) Here's how my wife made ours:
2 Tbsp butter
3 lbs chicken, cut into bite-sized pieces
1 onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tsp ground cayenne
2 tsp paprika (We used sweet, but smoked would work, too.)1 cup chicken stock
3 cups low-fat milk (We used 1% lactose-free, and it worked perfectly.)
2 lbs yuca, peeled and cut into 1" pieces
4 ears corn, shucked and cut into 1" rounds
Juice of one lime
Melt the butter in a large soup pot over medium-high heat, and cook the chicken till it's no longer pink. Remove the chicken and set aside. Sauté the onion, garlic, cayenne and paprika till the onions soften, about 5 minutes. Then, put the chicken back into the pot along with the stock, milk, yuca and corn. Bring this mixture just to a boil, then reduce the heat to low and simmer for till the yuca is tender, about an hour. Add the lime juice right before serving.
Cook's Note: The original recipe says to serve this stew with slices of bread that have been toasted in the oven till golden, like giant croutons. I bet that would be really tasty, but we forgot to buy some bread... Whoops!
Gabo
Photo: http://en.wikipedia.org |
Born in Colombia in 1927, the story of his parents' romance would inspire one of his most popular novels, Love in the Time of Cholera. Perhaps his seminal work, however, came nearly 20 years earlier: One Hundred Years of Solitude.
Told with a tone supposedly reminiscent of his beloved grandmother, One Hundred Years popularized a style of writing dubbed magical realism. Therein, supernatural events are incorporated into everyday experience as matter-of-fact with an almost "deadpan" sense of improbability. Ghosts, omens, superstitions - experiences and encounters that are reported and recorded like commonplace ingredients in an age-old recipe. The book is touted as one of five benchmark works in this style and is widely credited for helping to elevate Latin American literature to a never-before-achieved level of acclaim and appreciation.
Solitude is a pervasive theme to Garcia Marquez's writing, and he described his theories about its significance in Latin American history and experience in his Nobel speech. Having lived through decades of turmoil and oppression from the despots and dictators that have ruled Central and South American countries like El Salvador, Mexico, Chile and Colombia, he laments the many thousands of exiles and refugees that have been forced to flee their homes and attempt to exist elsewhere and maintain ties to countries that have never been able to develop a homegrown identity, exclusive of colonial or Western or industrial influences.
"Poets and beggars, musicians and prophets, warriors and scoundrels, all creatures of that unbridled reality, we have had to ask but little of imagination, for our crucial problem has been a lack of conventional means to render our lives believable. This, my friends, is the crux of our solitude.
"And if these difficulties, whose essence we share, hinder us, it is understandable that the rational talents on this side of the world, exalted in the contemplation of their own cultures, should have found themselves without valid means to interpret us. It is only natural that they insist on measuring us with the yardstick that they use for themselves, forgetting that the ravages of life are not the same for all, and that the quest of our own identity is just as arduous and bloody for us as it was for them. The interpretation of our reality through patterns not our own, serves only to make us ever more unknown, ever less free, ever more solitary.
"Latin America neither wants, nor has any reason, to be a pawn without a will of its own; nor is it merely wishful thinking that its quest for independence and originality should become a Western aspiration. However, the navigational advances that have narrowed such distances between our Americas and Europe seem, conversely, to have accentuated our cultural remoteness."
He goes on to discuss how countries with the fewest resources are the centers of creation throughout the world, with more births than deaths, while the richest countries are the creators of tools designed to obliterate life and that could, in fact, destroy the planet. Yet, his bleak observations are not without optimism, albeit tinged with skepticism. He asserts, in conclusion, that writers, "the inventors of tales, who will believe anything, feel entitled to believe that it is not yet too late to engage in the creation of the opposite utopia. A new and sweeping utopia of life, where no one will be able to decide for others how they die, where love will prove true and happiness be possible, and where the races condemned to one hundred years of solitude will have, at last and forever, a second opportunity on earth."
Monday, April 2, 2012
Chorizos, Frijoles Paisas, Plantains & Arepas de Queso
While researching dishes to make, I came across a fantastic site for Colombian cooking. There are copious dishes to choose from, and they all sound incredible.
1 large can (1 lb 13 oz) pinto beans, drained but not rinsed
The author, Erica, describes a veritable feast called bandejo paisa, which has many components, like chicharonnes (fried pork belly), powdered beef (that’s chopped to a very fine consistency in a food processor), hogao (a kind of tomato relish), fried eggs, sliced avocado and more! Everything sounded amazing, so we selected a few of the remaining items for a mini-feast: chorizo sausages, frijoles paisas (a dish made with pinto beans and a sauce called guiso), ripe plantains, and arepas de queso (cheesy cornmeal cakes).
As a shortcut for the frijoles, I used pre-cooked canned pinto beans and bacon and added that mixture to the cooked guiso and veggies, instead of the other way around. Normally, they're slow cooked for hours with a ham hock, then the rest of the ingredients are incorporated in that last hour or so before you eat. My version had a wonderful flavor and texture so, even though I haven't tasted them made the traditional way, I think this revised method was a success!
I recruited my wife as sous chef to help with this meal. While I prepared the frijoles and arepas, she grilled up the chorizos. We split ours in half before grilling, so they had a nice, crispy exterior and juicy, well-cooked interior. Instead of baking or frying them, we also decided to grill the plantains, slicing them on an angle into ovals. The outsides browned beautifully and this version is much lighter – and they’re just so so good!
Even though we didn’t make the entire feast, the few items we chose were wonderful – a delicious, summery dinner that came together easily. Here's how we made it:
AREPAS:
1 cup masarepa (pre-cooked cornmeal)
1 cup warm water
1 cup cheese, crumbled or grated (I used a mix of queso fresco and mozzarella.)
Pinch of salt
FRIJOLES:
Several slices of bacon, chopped
1 small green plantain, finely diced
1 small onion, finely diced
2 cups fresh tomatoes, diced
¼ cup scallions, diced
1 clove garlic, minced
¼ cup fresh cilantro, minced
1 tsp ground cumin
1 cup stock (I had chicken open, so I used that.)
1 cup carrots, grated
Mix together all the ingredients for the arepas and then let the dough sit for a couple minutes to stiffen up. It'll stay fairly wet, so dampen your fingers before handling it. Divide the dough into 6-8 portions and flatten each between your palms into a roughly ¼ inch thick disc. Set these aside till you’re ready to fry them up.
Next, start preparing the frijoles. In a large saucepan, brown the bacon over medium-high heat till nearly crispy. Drain most of the fat, then add the plantain and onions, reduce the heat to medium and cook for a few minutes till they start to soften. Mix in the tomatoes, scallions, garlic, cilantro, cumin and stock and simmer on low for about 15 minutes, till the tomatoes begin to break down.
While the guiso is simmering, heat about ¼ cup of oil over medium heat in a large skillet and fry the arepas till golden brown, about 4-5 minutes on each side. When cooked, place them on paper towels to absorb the excess oil.
After the guiso has simmered for about 15 minutes, add the beans and carrots, raise the heat slightly (if needed) and simmer for another 20-30 minutes, till the beans are heated through and the flavors meld. (These will probably taste even better the longer they sit.)
Cook's Note: I was concerned I wouldn't be able to find masarepa, so I researched alternatives. You also can blend 1 can (about 15 oz) of hominy, about ¼ cup of the liquid from the can, and 1 cup of regular cornmeal in a food processor till fine and grainy. (It'll make extra, but it can be stored in the fridge for a couple weeks. Or, just fry up a bigger batch!) Luckily, our local Price Chopper carried exactly what I needed in the specialty flour section.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Week #11: Republic of Colombia
Photo: http://en.wikipedia.org |
One of the world's 17 megadiverse countries, Colombia is home to the majority of the world's species. The country also is ethnically diverse, as indigenous Quimbaya, Muisca, Tairona and others met with Spanish colonists and their African slaves from the 15th to 19th centuries, before regaining independence (as the country known today) in 1886.
More recently, 20th-century European and Middle Eastern immigrants have settled in Colombia, despite five decades of ongoing struggles between opposing political ideologies, underwritten by the illicit cocaine trade. In the last decade, however, violence and drug production in Colombia thankfully have decreased sharply.
Colombia is South America's third largest economy, with the second-largest Spanish speaking population (Mexico is the first). Food-wise, the country well known for one of its primary exports: some of the world's finest coffee. Colombian cuisine varies by region, of course, with seafood taking precedence along the Caribbean and Pacific coasts and meats, fruits and grains dominating meals in the higher elevations.
I've researched quite a few recipes, including one traditional Colombia feast from which I'll most likely prepare a few, but not all, recipes tomorrow. We just can't eat that much food!
This is bound to be a delicious week. So, check back tomorrow for dinner #1!