Looking around within our circle of dear and loved friends, it’s no secret, they are all food lovers and I really couldn’t imagine it any other way. Who would otherwise be willing to put up with our constant musing about everything and anything edible. Granted, not everyone enjoys to cook as much as we do, there are however – sort of ‘making up’ for the rest – a few who are just about as crazy as we are. Stephanie and David, our dear American friends are the best example. Over the two years they lived in our neighborhood, the term hospitality got redefined: Our very first dinner together at the Greek place just around the corner transformed into an ecstatic party with lots of broken porcelain, the ultimate food shopping tips were exchanged over hot chocolates at Tambosi’s, fabulous dinner parties were thrown over at Casa Kunstle and we found ourselves lucky recipients of freshly baked goods Stephanie dropped of just before heading out of town. When both finally moved back to Colorado, tons of emails were flying back and forth not short of the one or other recipe. Our first trip to the land of mountains was quickly booked and with it came some of the most memorable family feasts we remember. One event in particular allowed us to enjoy the most delicious tamales, and speaking of which I’ll stop right here, since this is my dear friend Stephanie‘s guest post:
When Nicky asked if I would mind sharing my Grandma Salazar’s recipe for tamales with d:d readers, I didn’t hesitate to say “yes!” In our family, Grandma’s tamales are like gold, and if you don’t like tamales before you’ve had hers, you will likely convert after you do.
The tamal (plural, tamales) has a long history in the Southwestern US, Mexico, Central and South America. Sources conflict on when the first tamales originated and in what form (some say thousands of years B.C.) but what is certain is that Latin cultures have fully mastered the art, and in each country and region you can find different interpretations of that delightful little package. The makings of a tamal reveal its ancient and rustic history. Maize is cooked in an alkaline solution, typically limewater, to separate the hull from the grain which is then ground and dried to become the meal we know as masa harina. This process is called nixtamalization and was developed in Mesoamerica, and used to sustain Aztec and Mayan warriors. Tamal filling varies widely depending on the region, and the creation comes wrapped in a corn husk or some type of leaf. In my travels, I have had savory meat tamales wrapped in corn husks spiked with ground chilies, large tamales wrapped in banana leaves, smothered in Oaxacan mole, sweet little dessert tamales with cinnamon and raisins inside, Costa Rican Christmas tamales with green and red bell peppers (void of anything “picante”) to celebrate the season, a Marin County white tablecloth version overlooking the San Francisco Bay, far too many poor renditions at various Mexican-American restaurants, and then there are Grandma’s.
Anything my Grandma’s hands have touched is beyond delicious. She is a real-life Tita from Como Agua Para Chocolate (Like Water For Chocolate…a must read for all Foodies) – she was born to cook. When my Grandma, Maria Elucresia Herrera, entered the world “early,” in October of 1922, she weighed only 3 pounds. So, as the story goes, my great-grandmother, Jesusita, wrapped her little Maria up, and placed her in a shoebox near the wood-burning stove to keep warm. Well, this sweet little thing had plenty of fire in her blood, and has been thriving ever since. It is no wonder she is a natural in the kitchen. As soon as she could climb on a stool to reach the cupboards and stove, she was making biscuits for her father, Elfido Herrera. He passed away when she was just six, and her mother followed just ten years later. Maria and her six older brothers and one sister had to make a way for themselves, so they left the family farm in Questa, New Mexico, and moved north to Grand Junction, Colorado. At 17, while her brothers labored in the fields, Maria cooked for them and the other workers. In this part of the world, you could bet on a steaming pot of creamy pinto beans that had been cooked all day, potatoes fried with onions, and stacks of soft, warm, handmade tortillas.
Sometimes months go by and non of the cookbooks that pass through my hands make my heart jump for joy. This is not to say that those books are bad – they are not – there’s just nothing extraordinary about them, nothing that makes them stand out from the crowd. Then, out of the blue within a fortnight, four great new books found their way – more or less magically – into my hands. Enough material to celebrate a full fledged cookbook session on my favorite cozy reading spot – our sofa, next to a stack of pink and orange Post-Its, without which my regular reading routine just wouldn’t be same.
The Perfect Scoop – David Lebovitz
If it wasn’t for his witty writing style on his blog, you’d have to love him for his passion: Desserts and more recently, ice cream. Having worked in the pastry department with famous chefs like Alice Waters at Chez Panisse restaurant or as cooking instructor all over the globe, he certainly knows his trade and not only shares his knowledge on his blog, but comprehensively in his fourth cookbook – a great addition for any sweet tooth. A huge collection of recipe equips the home cook with an overwhelming variety of ice creams, sorbets and granitas, not short of any of the luscious little extras (sauces, toppings, baked goods) that can turn a simple scoop into an elaborate and fancy delight. With his pleasant and comprehensible voice he guides the reader through an extensive list of ice cream relevant ingredients as well as necessary equipment and makes sure to explain all the details on your way to becoming a successful ice cream maker. Laid out in joyful pastel colors, with probably not enough of the beautiful radiant photography (can there ever be?) – the only question remaining is: Do I start with Roasted Banana or Parsley Ice Cream before I try the Champagne-Cassis Granita?
Food shopping can be fun. Most times. Except perhaps when you find yourself in situations where a) you bump into badly informed, impolite or grumpy vendors, b) have to wait in line at the cheese counter and the eldery lady just ahead of you entangled herself in a debate about whether she wants to go with the young Gouda or its aged brother or c) have your three kids in tow and are trying to avoid casualties fighting your way through the sweets department of the store. The last point actually brings back vivid and not necessarily positive memories of my au pair time in London, another reason I regularly admire the calmness of moms keeping their kids-on-a-sugar-high in check while chipping away from an excessive shopping list.
The clichĂ© of an unhurried stroll over the local market with nothing but friendly greeting vendors and an affable chat here and there is not the common reality. On a regular working day food shopping is mostly an inevitable task squished in between demanding work projects and private appointments – it needs to be done if you don’t want to be confronted with a yawning void in your fridge. This is where efficiency pays off and planning ahead saves you nerves, time and money. That is… well, in theory. While I am a planning type of person (easily mastering shopping for clothes & shoes), I’m lousy if it comes to being efficient at food shopping. I tend to be all over the place Munich to get exactly what I want and need, but in no sensible order. In the end I manage to keep the fridge full, but I feel it could be so much less running around…
Not from this world? Well, its beautiful color intrigued me and made me need-to-have-it. Packaging always gets me, unfortunately the content oftentimes doesn’t live up to the expectations raised – the more I was astounded that my bold move was rewarded with a new and so far unnoticed ingredient!
A keeper. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about, right?!
EDIT: Some of you were pretty close, of course it’s a member from the cress family. The correct term is Daikon Cress, available in green and red (I say it’s purple). Taste wise quite similar to radish, it adds a colorful yet spicy note to a salad, fish or whatever you find it to be a good fit to. More info can be found here.
