STIR THE POTS

Pupusas

When my brother first described pupusas, the flat filling-based bread of El Salvador, he was verklempt, a fine Yiddish word to describe anything from deliriously happy or sad. In this case, let's say these suffed flatbreads made his belly smile. He discovered them while living in Los Angele's Echo Park, a neighborhood which at that time was home to many immigrants from El Salvador, home of the pupusa.

A masa dough shaped and filled with vegetables, meats, cheeses and cooked on a griddle and then served with a vinegary coleslaw, pupusas are a serious treat. I recently enjoyed a batch at a 25-year old restaurant near me in Woodside, Queens.  Called Izalco, they served theirs with the requisite coleslaw, along with a tomato sauce and chillied-speckled salsa. If you get to Woodside, look up Izalco, or if you see pupusas, try them. You'll be verklempt. Or just say "uno mas, por favor!"

 

 

 

Faux Nutella

Recently I discovered old photos of kitchen notes from years ago, including those detailing Gregoire Michaud's "faux Nutella." Thinking I'd lost a chance to make it ever again, luck was kind. Putting my hand at the recipe, all was good, save for my usage of some intensely dark cocoa powder, which might have been used to make home-made Oreo cookies. Anyway, here is the final product, the look of which makes me think of Los Angeles' La Brea tar pits. Regardless, I am happy that the recipe is safely in storage!

Bahn Mi Again

Revisiting Bahn Mi recently, I found good information describing them historically  here and here. Making  "Bahn Mi" meatballs with a heady mix of cilantro, ginger and garlic, I added fish sauce, too,  inspired by a favorite Vietnamese salad eaten at New York's Nha Trang restaurant on Baxter Street. Named "French salad," it is uncannily American, combining iceberg lettuce and tomatoes with gnuoc-nam sauce, fried shallots and some sprigs of cilantro. So  divine. Anyway, I also got a hankering for  Vietnamese style baguettes for Bahn Mi, thinking of Alberto Adria's  version. Without having his modernist cuisine tools or intellect, I used a bamboo mini steamer (think of David Chang steamed buns), and finished them off in my mini oven at high heat till golden. 

 

 

Bread (Masamadre)

 

la del agua y la harina,

y eso fuiste: la vida te hizo pan
y allí te consumimos 

 

that of water and flour,

 and that you were: life made you bread

 and there we consume you

 

Pablo Neruda La Mamamadre 

Mercado Little Spain

Hearing about Jose Andres's Spanish Mercado opening at Hudson Yards, I recalled visiting his restaurants in Washington D.C. This man can cook. Moreover, he can run a restaurant, teach aspiring chefs, and organize fascinating projects. Along with his partners the infamous Adria brothers, this was going to be a unique project and experience.

Heading to Hudson Yards on a Saturday night, there was traffic up-and-down 10th Ave. And when I arrived at Andres's new place, there was a line outside the door. Ultimately I made it in. Here's what I saw, tasted and drank...

Marco's Altamura

I haven't heard from my Brazilian baker friend Marco Cerruti, who seems to have just moved to Florida, and recently spent some time in Spain teaching at Le Cordon Bleu. Looking through notes I took talking to him in the past, I remembered how he laughed about all the novice bakers incessantly asking for recipes, to which he'd answer, "no, just learn by trying." But he was kind enough to share a few of his formulas, including a classic version of Pane Altamura. Though the traditional bred uses 100 percent semola, Marco added measures of wheat. Below are shots of my adaption using Kamut!

 

St. Viateur

On the cusp of heading to Montreal for a visit, I decided to make some of this great food city's own adaptation of an old fashioned Jewish treat, St. Viateur bagels. Not exactly a Yiddish name, but it goes to show you; interfaith culture doesn't have to be maudlin and mushy, it can deliciously crusty, too. Anyway, this batch made for savory  fillings to enhance a toasted crumb.

Campaillou

Campaillou was a bread I tasted at Pascal Rigo's California bakery, a place my brother once worked. It's a loaf whose flavor lingered in my mind since then, it's that good. Craving it recently, I found a recipe from a milling firm selling a mix of flour named... Campaillou. I mixed up a batch. Here's my sourdough adaption of Pascal's bread from this yeasted version.