Empiñada - a Tomato, Pineapple, and Chicken Stew (Pinedo recipe)

I'm on a roll making stews from the Pinedo's cookbook, El cocinero español.  ("On a roll" - a cooking pun!)

Last month I wrote about a beef and onion stew.  This time I tried a recipe on page 93, Empiñada.  This is not empanadas (a hand pie or dumpling) but a chicken stew with the dominant flavors of tomatoes and pineapple.  Yes, pineapple!

My Translation

My Redaction

1 cup dried bread crumbs

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 can crushed pineapple with its juice (20 ounce can)

2 cans diced tomatoes with their juice (14.5 ounce cans)

2 teaspoons cinnamon (or 1 tsp and then add more at the end to taste)

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

1 1/2 teaspoon chopped garlic

1 teaspoon salt

2 to 2 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken thigh meat

Use just two cans of tomatoes and half that amount of chicken

Heat skillet over medium heat.

Add olive oil; swirl it to heat it.  

Add bread crumbs.  Stir constantly until the crumbs are golden brown.

Add pineapple, tomatoes, cinnamon, cloves, garlic, and salt.  Mix well.

Simmer over low heat while cutting the chicken into chunks.

Mix the sauce and the chicken pieces together in the slow cooker.  

Cook on low for 4 hours or until the meat is fall-apart tender.  Adjust salt to taste.

Beginning to toast crumbs

Toasted!

The sauce.  Just right.

My Notes

I did this recipe twice.  The first time I completely got the sauce-to-meat ratio wrong!  There was too much meat and the sauce was lost between the pieces.  My redaction above reflects the changes I made from the second time around. 

The point of toasting the bread crumbs - the technique is similar to toasting nuts but with oil to lubricate things - is to create an ingredient that will thicken the sauce.  

I didn't need to add any more water since I used the juices from the pineapple and tomatoes.

The first attempt did not include salt and boy, was it obvious.  I made sure there was salt in the second attempt.

You just have to love the slow cooker for making this recipe easy to cook and the chicken super tender.

For the second attempt, I created the sauce following the above directions then let it simmer for 30 minutes.  Then I added the first batch to it (the full amount was reduced from the three people who taste-tested it, but that wasn't much) and simmered it on low for 20 minutes warm it all the way through.

The Verdict

My guest taster who does not like cinnamon only tried the first version, which contained so little sauce that she couldn't taste it.  Honestly, we all tasted just tender chicken and not much else, so it was a bust.

Not enough sauce.

However the second time around had chunks of meat swimming in sauce.  Perfect!

See how thick it is?

The pineapple and tomatoes were the dominant flavors and they blended well together.  There was a bright acid note along with the sweetness from the fruit.  The spices were there but not competing for attention, although I noticed that I really enjoyed the slight dominance of the cinnamon. As one guest taster said, "They make something go on in the background so it is not just pineapple and tomato."  I agree!

The bread crumbs did their job and the sauce was thick.  I served the stew the first time with the pasta shells and the second time just by itself.  Both worked well.  

Success!  Simple and yet intriguing to have the pineapple and tomatoes working together.  I would probably add a little more cinnamon if I did this again.

A Persimmon Salad from the 1940s

I have lived in California all my life, so it is easy for me to take the abundance we have for granted.  While I have traveled around the United States and in a few other countries, I don't always recognize that the climate we have is different in a wonderful kind of way.  Where I live, we have a mild climate year-round with the opportunity to grow a variety of fruits, nuts, and vegetables.  

That got me wondering, "What exactly IS California cuisine?"  Sure, I can look around me now and see all the current influences, but what fun is that?  I wanted to know what made California cuisine distinct in prior decades.  Then I recalled that there was a big influx of people arriving in the first half of the 20th century, including my ancestors, who arrived in the 1930s and 1940s.

This website, California Migration History 1850-2022, offers clickable tabs on a chart showing the birthplaces of California residents to compare to the total population of the state.  For example, 1900 shows a population of  1.4 million with about 650,000 born in California, about 50%.  1910 and 1920 show about 37% born in CA, 1930 about 34%, 1940 and 1950 about 36%.  In other words, two-thirds of the population weren't born in the state!  During this time the population of California grew to 10.8 million (1950).

I looked for a cookbook that captured the cuisine of that time period, and I found The California Cook Book for Indoor and Outdoor Eating by Genevieve Callahan.  

For Indoor and Outdoor Eating

One aspect that makes California cuisine distinct, she pointed out, is the use of "Strange Fruits in Salads" (page 17).  In particular, in Southern California, subtropical fruits can be grown "as ornamentals."  She noted it is worth watching the local markets to get items such as mangos, papayas, guavas, cherimoyas, feijoas, passionfruits, white sapotas, kumquats, loquats, pomegranates, and persimmons.

It is persimmon season in my area and I have an abundance of them in my kitchen, thanks to a colleague whose trees "produce hundreds" and a local homeowner who sells them from his garage at an excellent price.

Ms. Callahan gave several recipes that use persimmons in salads, some in ways unusual to me.  

However, the first one I tried was so very basic:  lemon-flavored gelatin with whole persimmons embedded in it.  What attracted me to it was that she stated on page 26,

The Mission Inn Hotel and Spa is an iconic Riverside location.  It started as an adobe boarding house in 1876 and then became a full-service hotel in the early 1900s.  By the 1940s and early 1950s, it was a "place to be" because famous people stayed there, such as Albert Einstein, Booker T. Washington, Helen Keller, Clark Gable, and a variety of U. S. presidents.  But it later closed and became rundown and was almost demolished until purchased by the current owners in the 1980s who renovated it.  It has returned to being a beautiful location to stay, dine, and enjoy the spa.

I didn't want a "large ring mold" for two people to consume, but I do have some small gelatin molds that were deep enough to hold a small, peeled persimmon.  I wanted to see the persimmons "glowing" through the gelatin!

Here goes:

3 ounce package lemon-flavored gelatin

1 cup boiling water

1 cup cold water

6 small soft-ish persimmons

6 individual serving gelatin molds

Just add water!

Mix gelatin with the boiling water, stirring until it is dissolved -- the liquid looks clear.

Add the cold water and stir some more.

Pour a thin layer of gelatin into each mold.  Set into the refrigerator to chill until firmly solid (about 10 to 15 minutes).

While they are chilling, cut off the tops and then peel each persimmon.  If you see any seeds, remove those by cutting them out with a knife.  You should have at least one flat side on each persimmon -- note which is the most attractive side.

Remove the molds from the refrigerator.  Put one persimmon into each cup, setting the attractive side down on the gelatin and centering it in the mold.  Using a fork made it easy to control.

Pour the rest of the liquid gelatin into the molds, covering the persimmon with at least a very thin layer (if possible!).

Set molds back into the refrigerator and chill until solid.

To serve, put some very warm water into a shallow bowl.  Dip the molds in one at a time, without getting water onto the gelatin, leaving it very briefly.  Just enough to soften the sides of the gelatin.

Turn the mold over onto a plate to serve.

A thin layer to ensure the persimmon is enclosed.

I peeled extra, just in case.

The fork pokes into the "down" side.

The mold is full and the fruit is almost covered.

My Notes

My molds hold about 1/2 cup liquid each.  Once I added the persimmons, I ended up with 5 completely filled molds and several extra with just the bottom layers.  So let's say to plan for 6 molds.

Putting the molds in a small cake pan made it easy to transfer to/from the refrigerator.

The fork was poked into the non-attractive side of the persimmon, which allowed me to place it carefully on the gelatin and center it.  My fingers stayed out of the way.

It took over an hour for the gelatin in the filled molds to feel solid.  I let them chill much longer before I served them.

The Verdict

It was good!  I mean, for all that it was just lemon gelatin and persimmon, it was a light, refreshing salad.  The persimmon flavor goes well with the lemon, so that was a good pairing.

My guest taster thought it was fine.  Not earth-shattering as a recipe goes, but fine enough.

Did the persimmon glow through the gelatin?  You be the judge:

Pretty!

The persimmon was soft enough that it was easily cut with a knife, and the gelatin was firm enough that it held its shape after cutting.

As for presentation, I would probably serve this on a bed of dark green lettuce or spinach greens if for a salad.  It would also be good as a light dessert, especially if a cookie (thin, crisp) was with it.  

To be honest, I had some for breakfast the next day, which was tasty, too.

Success!

I doubt you will ever find the Mission Inn serving this again.  It was fun to find out that they did.

Estafado español - Spanish Stew, a Pinedo recipe

It is time for another Pinedo recipe!  If you are new to this blog, I'm cooking from Encarnación Pinedo's El cocinero español cookbook, published in 1898.  Her recipes show up on this blog and one dedicated just to her recipes, found here:  The Spanish Cook Without Equal.

Today I am making a stew for dinner, and I chose the one on pages 103 - 104.

My Translation

My Redaction

2 1/2 pounds boneless beef bottom round roast

olive oil for browning the meat

1 pound ham, cubed

1 pound pearl onions, stemmed and peeled

1 1/2 teaspoons chopped garlic

1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves

1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped after the stems are removed

1 bay leaf

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 teaspoon pepper

1/4 teaspoon cloves

1 cup red wine (I used cabernet sauvingnon)

1/4 cup apple cider vinegar

I only used one piece of the beef.  That is what fit in the slow cooker.

Cut beef into eating-sized cubes, about 1 inch by 1 inch or a little smaller.

Heat oil in a skillet.  Add beef in batches, stirring often to get the pieces browned.

Put each batch into a slow cooker.

Add all the other ingredients in the slow cooker.

Mix well.

Cook on low for 4 to 5 hours.

Cool, refrigerate, and remove the solid fat.

Reheat to serve.

My Notes

I cut off a lot of the excess fat on the beef.  There wasn't much and I didn't try to get it all off, just the majority.  Then I cut the meat into cubes of a sort.

Pinedo didn't state to brown the meat, but I suspected that was the purpose.  Otherwise I didn't see a need for adding fat to the pan.  Browning does make for a better flavor and presentation.  Since I had so much meat to brown and you don't want to crowd the pieces in the skillet, I used two skillets at one time.  I didn't measure the oil used -- I just put in enough with each batch so that the meat wasn't sticking to the pan.  

Honestly, the most tedious part of making this dish was trimming and peeling all the tiny onions.  I chose pearl onions because Pinedo had specified whole onions.  That was the only way I could imagine having individual servings without someone getting stuck with a massive onion in their bowl or removing the onions before serving.  It helps to have a bowl to hold the peeled onions and another bowl to hold the trimmed ends and peels, while you work over a cutting board. Although now that I think of it, I've seen old recipes with one whole onion (regular size) that had cloves stuck in it.  If that was her intent, I didn't pick up on it.

Perhaps she did not intend for one entire pound of ham in this stew, but that is what I had so I used it all.  The cubes were smaller than those of the beef.  Notice there is no salt called for; I think adding ham is her way of getting salt into the stew.  (Or she just assumes we will add salt at the end, "to taste.")

She specified wine or vinegar.  I chose to use both because I like the flavor a red wine brings and the brightness an acid adds to a sauce.

A slow cooker is the closest thing we have to cooking slowly over hot coals.  It can really do a good job getting the flavors blended and having the meat turn out tender (without having to tend a fire).  My frustration is usually that I overcook the meat, which is never appealing to me.  So despite the slow cooker books advising to cook beef stews for 8 to 12 hours on low, I chose to go for 5 hours.  At this time, the beef was perfectly tender and not overcooked.  I could probably have stopped it at 4 hours, which is why I listed a range in the redaction.  Maybe my slow cooker cooks hotter than the average one?

The onions because I peeled each and every one!

Browning in small batches.

Everything but the liquids.  Stir to combine.

Cooked. The orange is the ham, though it looks like carrots.

The Verdict

I served the stew with cooked shell macaroni on the side, so people could put the pasta in their bowl and stew on top of or next to it. Pinedo has several recommendations in her book to serve stews with macaroni.

Other dishes in the meal were a sweet potato-apple souffle (see the recipe by clicking here) and a side salad with spring mix, chopped apples and persimmons, pecans, pomegranate arils, and goat cheese.  It was dressed with a pomegranate molasses-based vinaigrette.

The primary comment was "the beef is so tender!" and it was. For a simple stew that was basically beef, ham, and onions, it was tasty!  One guest taster who does not like cinnamon could taste it - it was not off-putting but not her favorite.  Those of us who like cinnamon loved the sauce flavors.  No one spice or herb dominated -- it was a good blend.  

My guest taster who loves beef thought was it very good and had seconds.  

Everyone wished the sauce was thick so it was more like a gravy that would stick to the pasta and meat instead of running to the bottom of the bowl.  

I liked the whole stew and the sauce flavor blend.  The texture was fine.  I think I would rather serve it over mashed potatoes if the sauce wasn't thickened.  When I had the leftovers, I thought I really liked having a lot of broth with the ingredients and no pasta, so it was more of a soupy-stew.  Then I got to taste more of the broth, which was a good thing.

Success!

Worthwhile doing it again as it is so easy to prepare and cook.  Making it in advance is a good idea because reheated stews are always better.

Saffron Buns to Celebrate a Happy New Year 2025

This post begins my 14th year of food blogging.  Sometimes I can't believe that is true!  Researching, cooking, and writing up my experiences has become part of my regular routine: since I need to cook to eat, why not do something different for fun?  When I review my posts and recall what I did and liked (and didn't like!), I get a sense of wonder at how many different types of food and cultures I have explored.  

The conclusion of 2024 showed that this blog has 316 posts with over 188,000 page views from people from all over the world.  I'm feeling rather proud of this.

My life and focus are turning harder to food history, especially California food history, although not exclusively so.  My other blog, "The Spanish Cook Without Equal" found here: pinedo1898.blogspot.com, is growing along with this blog.  In it I explore the recipes of Encarnación Pinedo's El Cocinero Español, published in 1898, which I translated.  Those posts appear in both blogs, but the other blog is only her recipes.  I hope you find time to peruse it, too.

Lately I have been reading and researching the history of the immigrants from Cornwall, England, to northern California around the time of the Gold Rush.  The descendents from those immigrants still retain many of the "Cornish" eating habits, such as eating pasties (handpies with meat and potatoes) and celebrating special events with "revel buns", also known as saffron buns.

In 1998, Shirley Ewart with Harold T. George published The Cornish of Grass Valley California 1854 – 1954.  They documented the memories of the early Cornish families of the region, and Ms. Ewart included some recipes from her grandmother, who ran a hotel in Cornwall for many years.  

I chose to celebrate my 14th year of food blogging by making saffron "revel" buns using her grandmother's recipe on page 171.

Saffron Buns

1 package yeast (2 teaspoons)

1/4 cup warm water

1 cup milk

1/4 cup sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1/4 cup shortening

4 cups flours

3/4 cups currants

1/8 teaspoon saffron threads

Scald milk.  Add all by 1/2 teaspoon sugar, and the shortening, salt, and saffron.  Cool to lukewarm.

Put 1/2 teaspoon sugar in lukewarm water.  Add yeast.  Stir and leave for 5 minutes.

Add the yeast to the milk.

Add 1 1/2 cups flour.  Beat vigorously for 1 minute.  Cover.  Let rise in warm place until very light.

Add the rest of the flour and the fruit, kneading until the bowl is clean and you have a smooth ball of dough.

Put in a greased bowl.  Grease the top of the dough.  Cover with a clean towel.  Let rise until double.

Make 24 smooth little balls.  Set on greased cookie sheets.  Cover and let stand about 15 minutes.

Bake 15 - 20 minutes at 375 degrees F.

My Notes

My reading showed that saffron buns might contain just currants, as specified in this recipe, or a mixture of currants, sultanas (golden raisins), raisins, and/or mixed candied citrus peel.   I love golden raisins, so I used 3/4 cups fruit that was a pretty even mix of currants and sultanas.

Also, I doubled the amount of saffron to 1/4 teaspoon, as my reading also showed that amount could be up to 1 teaspoon.  I wanted to make sure the saffron flavor would shine through.

It was amusing to watch the yeast and sugar water mixture proof for 5 minutes.  I knew my yeast was active because it foamed up quickly!

Notice how much of the measuring spoon is covered.

After five minutes.

As typical in bread-making, I needed to add more water to make the dough come together in a moist (not dry) mass.  Always be willing to adjust the water amount to make the dough work right.

The yeasted flour mixture became "very light" after an hour of rising.  I poked it with my finger and found it was a fluffy mass.  

Yeast mixture and some of the flour

After 1 hour of rising.  

This is "very light."

The completed dough rose for one hour to achieve doubling.  

I got 22 little balls.  It was challenging to figure out how to form them to have smooth tops with all the dried fruit in them.  What I learned was that I stretched the dough to get a part that didn't have fruit in it, then fold that part to become the top surface.  The rest of the dough (with fruit) was tucked in under it, and then the bottoms were pinched closed.  I had to rework a few balls from the initial attempts once I figured it out.

I baked them for 18 minutes to make them golden brown.

Reasonably smooth balls.

As golden brown as I could get them, without overbaking (I hoped).

The Verdict

The buns were roughly two inches in diameter.  A nice size so the consumer wasn't overwhelmed with a bread-eating committment. 

The fruit amount was just right.  I could get the taste of it in every bite, which was a nice blast of sweetness with the bread.

The saffron flavor was there and distinctive, but not overwhelming.  It has been described as "earthy" and "astringent", and I agree with that.  I expected "herbal" but that isn't a good description.  It is a unique flavor, hard to put into words, but really good with the bread and fruit.  

I expected the buns to be colored yellow from the saffron.  They weren't yellow at all, which was disappointing.  I suspect the technique of putting the saffron in the milk with the shortening was the culprit.  The shortening melted and spread across the surface of the milk, engulfing the floating saffron threads.  If the shortening was added after the saffron had time to infuse in the milk, I think I would have seen more yellow.

Some books suggest using yellow food coloring to boost the color, given that saffron is expensive.  I didn't try that.

I took most of the buns to share at work, and the feedback was very positive.  Most people had never tasted saffron before, but they liked it.  The buns weren't too sweet, which many appreciated.  

Success!  

If I were to do this again, I would put some sort of glaze over the tops to make them shiny or browner.

Apples and Onions -- One of My Most Favorite Recipes

I reserve the last post of the year for one of my most favorite recipes.  This is my 13th year of food blogging (!), and I struggled to decide what to write about.  I have favorites, but which one should I pick?  One day I realized that a very quiet favorite -- one that I cook often but really don't think about much -- was a side dish that was both versatile and historical:  apples and onions.

Versatile:  I use it as a side dish to a main course such as baked chicken, a robust stew, or grilled salmon. It is fabulous with pork.  It is wonderfully supportive because it adds sweet, tart, and savory notes, depending on the ingredients you choose.  But it is also a good side dish for breakfast foods, such as French toast, pancakes, or omelets.  It adds the same notes but its overall flavor profile can be adjusted according to the spices and their ratios.

Historical:  I keep finding recipes or references to it in a variety of cultures over a wide span of time periods.  It seems that if a culture has both apples and onions available to it, it has discovered how wonderful the combination is.  The main differences are which spices are utilized.  In other words, once people taste it, they like it, and they pass that information to future generations.

The quantities I choose depend on my use.  My questions are:

Do I want more apple than onion?  Or more onion than apple?  Or a balance of their flavors?

I typically use spices such as black pepper, cinnamon, and salt.  Sometimes I throw in saffron or nutmeg or ginger or cardamom, depending on my mood and goal for the meal.  So I also ask:

Do I want it leaning towards savory or sweet?  

What are the spices used in the rest of the meal?

The answers direct the ratios.  Savory means more black pepper than cinnamon; sweet means more cinnamon than pepper.  Use both, as they complement each other well as I have learned from cooking medieval English recipes.  I might also include some herbs.

Another choice I make is about the fat used to cook the apples and onions.  Olive oil works well for the savory direction and butter for the sweet direction.  

I also decide how I want to cut up the apples and onions.  Do I want chunks or thin slices?  Often I will chunk the apples and thinly slice the onions, so I get a contrast of shapes.

The final decision is the type of apple:  a tart cooking apple really contributes a tang to the final dish, which goes well with savory meats and sweet breakfast breads.  But an eating apple that stays firm when cooked adds more sweetness, and that can be lovely, too.

I made it for this blog with the idea it would be a side dish to a main course of baked chicken.  I had very tart cooking apples and brown (yellow) onions.  I used black pepper and cinnamon in equal measure and salt to support them.  And I used olive oil.

Apples and Onions

2 tart apples

1 small yellow onion

1/8 - 1/4 teaspoon black pepper

1/8 - 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

1/8 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon or less of olive oil

Peel and then thinly slice the onion.

Heat olive oil in a fry pan.

Add the onion and slowly saute it.

In the meantime, quarter and core the apple.  Cut into bite-sized chunks.

Add to the onions.  Mix well.

Saute apples and onions together, stirring occasionally.  If it looks dry, add a splash of water.  If you are in a hurry, put a lid on the pan to steam the apples, which cooks them quickly.

Stir in the spices (to taste).  Cook a little while longer to allow the spices to flavor the dish.

Taste and adjust spices as desired.  Serve hot.  (Also good reheated.)

My Notes

Well, most of my notes are written before the recipe.  When to add the apples?  When the onions are almost cooked to where you want them.  Do you want them transparent?  Browned?  Your choice!

How long to cook the whole thing?  Until the apples are tender.  Or further, if you want the spices to really infuse.

The spice range is to your taste.  I used the upper values for the pepper and cinnamon.

This quantity is good for 2 to 4 people.

Thinly sliced.

Chunks.  Leave the peel on!

Apples and onions cooking together.

With the spices just added.

Done!

The Verdict

This is always good.  I've been known to eat it as a meal in itself.  

My guest taster thought the spices were just right.  I thought that maybe they would be too strong for people not used to them.  Use your good judgement.

Success!

And cheers to the end of 2024.

French Milk with Baked Pumpkin -- Two Pinedo recipes

It is fall and that means pumpkin season!  I went to a favored produce stand and bought a small sugar pumpkin, which is a variety fit for eating.  Standard jack-o-lantern pumpkins taste terrible, so you should always aim for a variety designated for pie fillings.  I didn't want a big one, so this was just right.

On page 43, Pinedo offered instructions on how to bake a pumpkin where the result is ready for adding to cakes, pies, or empanadas, which are small hand pies.  Once I had it baked, I needed to do something with it.  Fortunately, on page 143, she offered a recipe for "French Milk", which looks like a pumpkin-flavored rice pudding.

Her recipe, page 43:

My Translation

Pumpkin for cakes or pies

         A pumpkin is cut through the middle, and through the cut take out the guts and the seeds; add sugar inside thickly and cover well with the same piece that was cut out: when this has been done, put it in the oven; let it cook.

         Once cooked, the shell is removed, and [the rest is] ground, passing it immediately through a sieve in order to pour it into a little milk and put it back on the fire until it has the point of paste.

My Redaction

4.5 lb sugar pumpkin

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1/2 cup milk

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.  Cut the pumpkin to form a lid that is easy to remove and replace.  Use a spoon to remove the seeds and strings.  Coat the inside, including the lid, with sugar.  Put the lid on.  Place in a baking dish.  Bake for 1 1/4 hours or until the sides are easily pierced with a fork.

Remove from the oven and let cool until it is easy to handle.

Pour any liquid inside the pumpkin into a food processor or blender.  

Using a small paring knife, remove the outer skin and discard.  Cut the cooked pumpkin meat into chunks.

Working in batches, puree the chunks until very smooth.  The liquid helps to start the process; leaving some of the puree in the processor helps the next batch.

If you puree it well, you don't need to pass the pulp through a sieve.

Put the puree in a saucepan and add the milk.  Cook it over low heat, stirring often, until it is very thick.  Remove from heat and refrigerate.  

My Notes

I cut it open like I cut for a jack-o'lantern.

Seeds and guts removed!

Miss Pinedo probably used more sugar, but I knew my pumpkin was probably tasty without much.  I coated the sides and lid.  Some of the sugar was dissolved in the pumpkin's moisture before I took the picture.

Cooked.  You can see the fork holes where I tested it for doneness.

The cooked pumpkin interior.  See the accumulated liquid?

Chunks, followed by puree.

The about 5 cups of puree was pretty thick, so I didn't feel I needed to cook it much longer to thicken it.  I mixed in the milk and cooked it just a little while.  Once it was thick enough to create a "canyon" in it with a spoon, I declared it done.

Mixing in the milk.  Not quite to canyon stage.

Now it is ready for the next recipe, French Milk!

Her Recipe, pg 143

My Translation

French milk.

         Add some clean, ground rice to a quart of milk, some egg yolks and sugar to taste. Everything together is passed through a sieve and cooked with a stick of cinnamon.

         Having boiled well, a piece of cooked pumpkin is put on it and passed through the sieve, agitating it until it is about to white manjar.

         Then a little orange blossom water is added and it is emptied into a plate, garnishing it on top with almonds and cinnamon.

My Redaction

5 tablespoons ground rice

1 quart whole milk

5 tablespoons sugar (or to taste)

3 egg yolks

1 stick cinnamon

1 cup pureed pumpkin

1/2 teaspoon orange flower water

Garnish:  chopped or slivered almonds and ground cinnamon.

And the pumpkin and garnish.

Mix egg yolks, milk, sugar, and ground rice together.  Pour through a sieve or strainer into a saucepan.  Since the idea is to break up any lumps, if some of the rice stays in the strainer, pour the milk mixture through again to push the rice through it.  

Add the cinnamon stick.

Cook over medium heat until the mixture starts bubbling, then turn the heat down so the mixture simmers.  Cook until the rice is soft and the mixture is thickened. (For me, a total of 40 minutes.)

Remove the cinnamon stick.  Add the pumpkin and mix well.  Continue cooking until the mixture is thicker (but not necessarily very thick).  Remove from the heat.

Stir in the orange flower water.  Put the French Milk into the serving bowl.

If you want to serve it warm, sprinkle on the garnish.  If you want to serve it chilled, cover and refrigerate it, then add the garnish just before serving.

My Notes

I wasn't sure what ratio of rice-to-milk I should use in order to get, but a walk around the internet suggested the 5 tablespoons of rice.  

I guessed at 5 tablespoons of sugar, too.  I didn't want it too sweet as that usually dulls the other flavors, and I wanted to taste the pumpkin and the orange flower water.

The purpose of the egg yolks appears to be to add richness.  You can adjust the amount to your liking.  

Keep an eye on the mixture as it cooks -- mine almost boiled over at one point.

Mixed, sieved, and ready to cook.

Cooked, thicker.

With the pumpkin.  Pretty!

Garnished and ready to serve.

The Verdict

The first time, I served it warm.

My guest taster loved it and thought it was perfect just the way it was.  He thought the sweetness level was just right.  While he couldn't identify the orange flower water flavor, he recognized there was a floral component to the overall flavor profile.

I thought it was good, too, especially the light pumpkin flavor.  However, I felt it needed more sugar and more cinnamon.  Once I added that to my bowl and mixed it in, I felt it was right.  I could taste the orange flower water and liked how it complemented the pumpkin.

We both thought the almonds were a good addition, since they added a crunch to an otherwise completely smooth texture.

The second time, I served it cold.  It was thicker and had a robust mouthfeel, and I realized it was just right.  It did not need any more sugar or cinnamon.  

I thought the pumpkin and orange flower flavors were better blended, too, which I liked.  

I declare it a success!  

Here are my recommendations:  

If you are going to serve it warm, use more ground rice to make it thicker.  Add another tablespoon or two of sugar and be generous with the cinnamon garnish. 

But if you will serve it chilled, don't change the ratios.  It was a delicate dessert even with the more robust mouthfeel.

If you really love pumpkin, you might add in more, but I wouldn't add more than 1/2 cup extra.

As a side note, this recipe made me think of a recipe from the 14th century, in England, in a book called "The Forme of Cury."  

Notice that it uses almond milk instead of cow's milk - a common practice in the days when cow's milk was not always healthy to consume - and it is thickened with "flour of rys", ground rice.  It is flavored with ginger, sugar, and salt.  

This is so similar to what French Milk is, with upgrades to include egg yolks, other flavorings, and a garnish.  I view it as a proto-type rice pudding.  It always gives me a thrill to see a connection to a recipe going back (in Pinedo's case) 500 years.

Using one cup of the pureed pumpkin left me with 4 cups, so I made a pumpkin bread (from The Joy of Cooking book) and pumpkin soup, from my own design.  Yum!