STIR THE POTS

Al jamon que le llaman la sardina...Y la mujer que se la comen incha la barriga

Querido? Tengo una sopresa delicioso para usted!

Lord, it's my wife announcing she got me a goody while out shopping. Hearing her, I hope she got me a mille feuille at Ceci Cela! No friends, instead my wife  brought me a pound of sardines from Portugal. It's okay. I didn't have lunch after my oeuf brouille. Frugally, I noshed on some blistered peanuts and a beer till she arrived and set the shiny delicate fish on our table to grill and garnish with whatever groceries we might have left in the fridge.

That's not such a daunting task with sardine, as you can grill, poach, or even salt them for a quick crudo. Those shiny devils marry with virtually anything. When I was fortunate enough to cook at Abracadabra in Istanbul, my request for anchovies was badly translated, leading someone to buy beautiful sardines which we grilled, garnished with some fine olive oil, salad and some tapenade. 

 

From what was left in my larder this evening, I made a potato salad with peppers pan fried in olive oil and doused with vinegar and herbs. My cat immediately noticed the lovely results, circling from every angle of the table and crying out with a few miserable meows begging for a taste! Never you mind, a glass of Minervois and I was set.

Last thing: the title to this post may make no sense at all except for the fact that it has sardine in it. It's from a flamenco artist Manitas de Plata,who's song, "El no-no, recounts the story of a woman, sardines and betrayal!

Old bread into a new loaf

Nils recently made a Schrotbrot using old bread soaker. Intrigued, I had to wait till yesterday to schedule around work to make one, myself. It's a Flax seed rye bread from the BBGA's Camp bread that Jeffrey Hamelman was instructing as German bread 101 according to Download BREAD LINES.Vol 15-Issue 2&3.p29-56 . The lesson here was to use up a bread that was past its selling time, hence "old bread. "One of the benefits is the ability to use staled bread that would undoubtedly chip your teeth, by recycling it into  something with depth of flavor and high moisture content. Though  I previously tried my hand at this particular recipe, it didn't come out as planned. Perhaps my sour was a bit slow or needed some feeding. The "lazy baker" strikes again! I'm sticking with the German style breads, as they are quick to prepare, easy to schedule, and taste so good.

Flax seed rye
(Based on Jeffrey Hamelman's formula)

Sour:
Rye flour       190g
Water            160g
Rye culture     20g
16 hours

Soaker:
Water           145g
flax seeds      50g
Old bread      40g
16 hours

Final dough
White flour  285g
Water           80g
Sour            365g
Soaker        230g

First fermentation: 1 hour
Divide: 960 g or smaller loaves perhaps rolls?
Shape: Oval or round
Final proof: 50-60 mins
Baking: Steam
35-40 minutes a @ 450 F 232 C

Oeufs brouillés, French scrambled eggs

For all my years as a breakfast cook in the army, along with my  time working in hotels and restuarants, I never understood how people could eat what are sold to the public as "scrambled eggs." In my mind, what is serviced is usually specimens of overcooked or undercooked greening blobs of large curdled eggs. My brother once said that eggs are the perfect food, self enclosed with multiple uses and healthy, too.

This morning at breakfast I made myself "ouef brouille," scrambled eggs French style. Now that Bush is gone we can enjoy French fries, and even some  voluptuous velvety eggs that neither get hard or green. They're excellent, so good with crisp bacon and even a nice Flax seed rye bread or baguette, if so inclined. And if you're okay with gilding the Lilly, so to speak, add a dollop of caviar!

Ouef Brouille
Serves two
5 eggs
1/2 tsp canola oil
2 tsp butter
cream or milk (optional)
Utensils: Bain marie, bowl, whisk

Whip up your eggs, (you can strain them at this point if you want, but that is a bit uppity if you ask me!)
place bowl over a pot of simmering water. Add in oil,(Usually you use whole butter but I like to cut back for my heart and doctors orders!) pour in your eggs and whisk them in a slow concentric motion until they start to coagulate, add in your butter and turn off hit while continuing to whisk until eggs are cooked and set. At this point you can add in a bit of cream or milk to stop the cooking, but for me I like to eat them right then, so good!

Inge's Ribiselküchen

 

I like to think seasonally when I cook, but yesterday was an exception. While shopping for food at Trader Joe's, I spied some red currants in the fruit and vegetable section, and quickly stuffed them into my filling cart! These red jewels, slightly sweet and a bit sour were going into a dessert I have had on my trips to Switzerland visiting my sister. It's a recipe from  her mother in-law Inge  who kindly gave me a copy. Since  I rarely see currants in New York, Trader Joe's gave me both ingredients and inspiration to act.

So what is this memorable treat? Ribiselküchen, or more simply currant cake. It's perfect marriage of cake, merengue and fruit that make for a Mama cake. My problem is not being able to have just one slice. It's easy to demolish this cake in one seating. I know it happened to me once or twice.

Inge's Ribiselküchen

Serves 6-8

Cake:

150g Powdered sugar

5g Vanilla Sugar

3 Egg yolks

3 Tbsp. water

50g Melted butter

250g flour (A.P. or cake)

1/2 tsp. Baking Powder

160ml Milk

Beat powdered sugar, vanilla sugar, yolks, water until light. Add sifted flour, baking powder, and milk in thirds slowly folded slowly.

Spread into a cake pan 8x8, non-stick or lined with parchment and buttered. Bake for about 15 minutes until 3/4 cooked in a 350 oven. Spread meringue and currant mix on top and finish for about 10 minutes or until meringue is golden and slightly firm to touch.

Merengue Topping:

3 egg whites

200g sugar

5g Vanilla sugar

300g Currants (fresh)

Whip egg whites and gradually add sugar until fluffy and stiff. Fold currants  and spread on top of 3/4 cooked cake. Finish in the oven until whites are golden colored.

Fish from the water

In New York City, ordering fish from a purveyor, I never know who caught it and where. Basically you're at the mercy of your buyer. When I travel to Ecuador, the entire food experience is in your face, giving the sights and smells from land and sea. Take a morning walk in Puerto Lopez, where I was  fortunate enough to view fishermen at work, the fish coming from the water to my feet.

Stepping on to the deserted side of the beach, we saw the first signs of that daily war around eating that's common to  Third World, the remains of what wasn't used. In this case, dead fish from the previous day's catch.  According to Begnino, our encyclopedic tour guide who knows Ecuador like no one else, they were likely from overloaded tubs. Or else they were the victims of the swooping sea birds, who'd come in to the boats looking to steal some lunch. 

Moving onwards, we came to a mass of boats and trucks lined along beach. Between stray dogs, and crowds of of people along the shore, flew birds diving for a free meal over lots of fish-packed plastic tubs carried from small boats to the shore onto the waiting trucks.

Along with the stray dogs, you'd see domesticated cats and dogs at almost every point, sunning themselves on the beachfront. One adorable fellow was left out. I have to admit that he tugged at my heart strings. He didn't whimper or cry as I pet his little head. My sense was that he undoubtedly knew his fate was at the mercy of the gods or himself.

 
Various bigger fish were spread out by the fisherman along the sand, as other parts of the catch were sorted out for the market. Three large swordfish were displayed side by side on the breaking tide as tourists gawked and fisherman feverishly divided the catch.

 

There were manta rays, large grouper, Mahi-mahi, Sepia, and snappers. One fish even had another fish caught in its mouth. And then there were the sharks, small and large, including hammer heads. The variety seemed endless.

    

We stopped to see fish mongers butchering the catch for markets across Ecuador, and presumably around the world. Their furious speed and knife work was amazing. It's no wonder after a long days work you find these hard workers spread out for a siesta on the hamacas in front of there simple homes taking a siesta.
 

Begnino noticed fish roe, from a shark, and bought them for a couple of dollars. It's said they help in various medicinal cures. According to Begnino,  the cure includes blending raw roe in some coca cola. I suddenly felt very healthy, not at all needed to partake, though my wife and her brother enjoyed this local tonic. I demurely said I would be ok with just the coke straight up, thank you very much!

As I feverishly snapped pictures, Benigno introduced me to various fish varieties, while conversing with the men who caught them. The men were all curious why I would want to snap photographs, and were amazed that I would be introducing pictures of the sea creatures for what they learned was "a food blog on the internet."

There was even a fisherman who wanted to give us his name and address so we could forward him some pictures. He went as far as to change into a t-shirt with a silk screened image of the countries new President, Rafael Correa, Begnino an ardent Social Christian Democrat looked on in disdain and laughed at the partisan political gesture of allegiance, I just snapped at the fish that were so amazing and so were the fisherman, humble and giving.

 

 

I want to thank the  hard working men and women who work on the boats and in the butchering stations of Puerto Lopez. They reminded me of what hard work means. Here in the developed world, so many of us have become rather lazy and comfortable, with modern life's mantra of "convenience." There are fewer conveniences in Ecuador. That said, they certainly have no lack of beautiful food and gracious people.

Lack of a loaf, my reflection on Ecuadors bread.

Vacationing in Ecuador, I knew that I was going to be one miserable camper. Not because of ceviçhe, amoebas, or even relatives. No, it was the lack of good honest bread. In hot countries near the equator,(correct me if I am wrong, someone, please!) sourdough doesn't exist anymore. As a matter of fact commercially yeasted bread (pretty much is standard) fails my test. What you most often encounter here are pillows of light fluff for squeezing rather than eating. Your only options are pale,sweet rolls or sliced white bread  imported from America. It leaves me with one question. Why? Regardless of the answer, I was going to have to survive on plantains and rice as my only carb intake. Sacrebleu!

While Ecuador has a bread culture, it's definitely lacking in variety and is going to need some improvement. But as with most cultures, you grow up with what know. I had been told that Manabis was the place for bread, with wood burning stoves in one village. Alas when we explored, I found a bakery with only one variety of rolls. Sadly, their oven was replaced with a gas stove. It seems most of the old wood stoves are gone with only one as a museum piece, the cause of lack of wood.

My breakfast rolls

 

The bakery in Manabis with only this sample of bread.

Delivering bread in Puerto Lopez. These guy's have an assortment of little rosquitas, some soft rolls and a weird little bread dyed neon-red!

While in Guayaquil I found a bakery making some sort of cornet bread or pastry, I asked to snap some pictures and was obliged. One of the bakers didn't seem to like me around and as we left he scolded the other young bakers, it seems the were an unlicensed business, strange it was on a main road and open to the street.

 

While on our way to the coast of Manabis, I spied a shop on a corner of the main street in Puerto Cayo. Just before we left the lazy town, I had to stop, noticing a sign on a building. It was a bakery with a perfect name, in case I decided to retire here with just a place to make some loaves for travelers and friends. I could set up a school, or a hospice for wayward sourdough bakers hard on their luck. "Can you help a fellow American whose down on his luck with a loaf ?

Hay, bueno, bueno!

 

Confessions of a bread junkie, (or how I knead or don't knead bread.)

No worries here, my friends. I am back and baking! I revved up my limp starters with a few quick feeds just to get at least one loaf just for a fix. God I'm like a junkie now! So I made some hybrid dough  to get my mojo. What a dud! It turned out to be a stiff D.O.A. from proof to fridge, out and in and back into the oven. It was like lead, but hell it was bread! ( No pictures, it was devoured and surprisingly finished off!)

So while surfing and revisiting the idea of  that mad baker Jim Lahey's no knead. I opted for this idea of using a stiffer starter from my friend Teresa of Northewest sourdough fame and throw it into the mix. And from Pim of Chez Pim's, I made her no knead version, borrowing her recipe but using Teresa's Motherdough starter recipe. The idea? See what freak would emerge. Ladies and gents, the resulting bread I made is fierce! Basically I followed the no knead procedure, but then retarded the dough for several hours. Working in a split shift, I take a break and bake bread.

 1.) 12 hour bulk ferment after  minimal mix,

2.) next morning pre-shaped, rested for about 20 minutes

3.) Shaped into a batard  then refrigerated until later that afternoon say about 8-10 hours.

4.) Taken out to warm for 1 hour at room temperature.

5.)Baked in a pre-heated Creuset pan at around 480 faranheit, 30 minutes with top on, 15 minutes top off.

Fabulous and tastes really good! Notice the grigne. I didn't even cut it, as it was seam side up in the bake, au nature! The various flours, spelt, whole wheat, rye and wheat make a denser loaf then the all white. And I think there is a more sour note from the mother dough and even the retarding for ten hours.

A fishing village,(Puerto Lopez, Ecuador)

Our journey to Puerto Lopez on the Pacific coast took us on an old road, rather bumpy and surprisingly without a lot of traffic. I found out later the driver we hired had an urge for some sort of dish at a local spot, a aguado de pato,(duck stew). When we arrived, the owners were on vacation  so we ended up taking a hike through some semi-arid landscape over winding hilly roads. It all seemed familiar from all my previous adventures here. I have seen a lot of roads, vegetation, mud, burros and whatever else catches your eye in the back of a car's window on the  dusty back roads of Ecuador.

Gradually, as we climbed and then descended from the more arid landscape, we saw greener, more dense vegetation in valleys filled with wild papayas. And in the distance I caught sight of blue from the Pacific ocean breaking on the white sandy shoreline. After four hours, we decided on having lunch on the road in a town called Puerto Cayo, formally the first attraction and tourist destination on Ecuador's Ruta del Sol.

Quaint and pretty desolate, we stopped by several places to inquire what was  on the menu. It seemed everyone was just waking up; mind you it was approaching lunch time by my calculations, or is twelve noon too early? No one was offering anything of sustenance, not even soup, something typical here for breakfast and lunch. Instead most places had a ceviche, or a fish fry with rice or shrimp dish. We ended up all ordering a fresh Corvina frito with rice, accompanied by a crisp cabbage salad and the ubiquitous but delicious patacones,(fried and mashed plantains).

Taking off, we passed a road sign that informed us we were entering Machalilla Nacional Park, a drier lunar looking landscape winding along the coast with brush, cactus and supposedly large feline creatures! Slowly, the car seemed to crawl over an even dustier road that, at some spots, looked totally in-hospitable, other than some shade from trees that covered the road, seemingly like they were closing around us as the limbs met from one side to the other. All to say that Ecuador is a dreamy country. With so much road time, your mind can go virtual, dreaming about who lived here before, the conquistadors arriving, or when will we ever get to our hotel!

Finally after a few towns we arrived at an equally dusty road and sign, Puerto Lopez, our destination.  I was looking forward to jumping into the pool at the Hosteria Oceanic  where we would be spending the next five day's. At the moment, though, the idea of having an ice cold beer seemed awfully inviting. Or even a surf on the internet.... Ahhh, not so fast, my wife was taking control! First check in! Then we would head to town. But first get into some comfortable clothes, sun block, etc...Lord I thought I was on vacation! After checking in to our humble cabana's we had unpacked it was off to town just for a look see.

A huge humpbacked whale skeleton lay along side the road next to the palm covered cabana's of the very lovely looking Hosterial Mandala. Apparently the hotel was  booked solid. Whale-in-the-road or not, next time I will try it, as it's the place where everyone wants to stay.

We followed the sandy dirt road and followed a street up to the more center of town, away from the beachfront and towards the direction of the village food market. As we passed a little house, there were signs everywhere for La Bella Italia. From my wife's last trip, she had found a couple who had settled in this sleepy hamlet from Modena, opening the village's only Italian restaurant. We decided to stop there for dinner. The sign on the restaurants door appealed to me, reading "siesta 2-4." Italian, Ecaudorian, same smart sense of the good life!

The market was a low covered group of stalls filled with all sorts of fruit. At this point I was parched and my brother in-law suggested coconut water. The salesman ceremoniously took the large fruit and hacked it methodically on the ground with a machete. We took a gulp of the fruit till we had finished, and then he the cracked it in half, letting us dig into the soft flesh that he had kindly separated from the shell.

 

 
 

It was getting hot and dark and we decided to head back to our hostal for a bite for dinner and some sleep and an early walk onto the beach, maybe a dip in the pool?

Mangoes de chupar,(sucking mangoes amongst other things.)

Hola, I've been back for only a week and I have a cold or flu, thus explaining my neglect to the site. So to make up for my silence I will post some pictures of my ten-day jaunt to Ecuador's Ruta del Sol, specifically the fishing village of Puerto Lopez.

My wife had traveled to Puerto Lopez last year while visiting her brothers. They  wanted to show me the possibilities for an investment in this sleepy fishing village.

Before heading for the coast we spent a couple days relaxing by the pool, searching for cigars, as well as for a driver to head up north.

Ceviçhe D'Marcelo

Okay, let's get to the real story here; food! We'll start with a ceviçhe my brother in-law claimed to be the best in the city. I had already had some fine examples at our hotel, including one mixto that featured fresh oysters. Delicious. Imagine a breakfast ceviçhe, or a soup of albacore with yucca. Anyway, I followed by in-laws to "D'Marcelo Ceviçhe," an open and bustling restaurant with a menu offering various ceviçhe plates, as well as arroz and fish cooked to however you liked. I went for a shrimp ceviçhe. Usually I would go for something more adventurous, but my wife was concerned about stomach ailments, insisting that I go for the least dangerous specimen.

The style of the shrimp cerviche was different from that I knew. It's in the style of Manbi,  from the Pacific coast where we would be visiting. It was warm and clear, the shrimp's only other partners pickled red onions and tomatoes. My brother in-law layered in a squirt of tomato ketchup, mustard, aji, (chili) and some oil. Crisco vegetable oil! Hmmm. Truth is that I followed his lead, even thought it struck me as nearly sinful to garnish such a national treasure with foreign condiments.

To my surprise, my brother-in-law is as smart as his sister (my wife) is beautiful. (Sweetheart, I'm mentioning you.). Anyway, it was good. With some tostadas, plantain chips, and cangil,(popped corn) it was a new and interesting rendition

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mangoes de Chupar

Being the season for mangoes, Chella was yearning for  "mangoes de chupar," which translates as "sucking mangoes." My wife and brother in-law decided on a culinary field trip seeking out the best. We rented a car and headed out to a town called Salitre, which was the heart of the growing area. Once you find the mangoes, the trick to eat these softball size fruits is to squeeze it, releasing fibrous juices. Then you bite off the end and indulge until sucked dry. Be forewarned of sticky juices escaping from your fingers, or the other end and landing on your clothes like orange guano. We stopped by the road where my brother in-law managed to buy 200 hundred of these juicy fruit for only fifteen dollars.

El canton Salitre

 

There is always interesting food finds here, stuff you never see in markets in New York City.  Live turkeys, chickens, and all kinds of seafood. The various stalls on the side of the road offered typical and not so common foods, such as purple sweet potatoes, aka camote or Okinawan sweet potatoes.We had a taste of these starchy purple fruit off the grill, served with a stewed duck leg and a side of rice. Beyond the delicious food, Salitre is a just another dusty town with speed bumps and lots of food stalls selling everything from mangoes  to bollo's de pescado.

After driving for awhile, we turned off the main road onto a dirt road to what looked like a river to me, but a sign described as a "playa." The thatched kiosks were full of vacationers. On the river in canoes were people selling fish, mangoes and various produce. On shore we met local fishermen who were offering fish, and freshwater prawns, along with crayfish. What I would of done for a stove and some utensils?

The market was bustling with all sorts of local grown fruits as well as meats and seafood. As was the beach, where they brought the market to the people.  Strange and unfamiliar, still, it sure can taste good though when it's fresh and local.