Manjar blanco - an almost Pinedo recipe

Encarnación Pinedo did not give a recipe for manjar blanco - but she did write about it in some of her recipes.  She referred to it as an appropriate filling for empanandas (pg 113).  She also used it as a description of a physical characteristic while cooking a thick mixture, as in punto de manjar blanco.  This translates to "the point of blancmange," and that tells us what we need to know to find out more.

That physical characteristic is described as:  The liquid no longer drips or runs like milk off the spoon. It falls slowly in heavy, thick ribbons that hold their shape for a moment on the surface of the mixture before fading back into the rest of the mixture. Dragging a spoon along the bottom reveals the bottom but the mixture floods back after a few seconds.

I have achieved this at times without knowing what it was called.  For example, when I made this cajeta recipe in February 2024, the picture below shows the ribbons holding their shape: 

https://pinedo1898.blogspot.com/2024/02/milk-and-pineapple-cajeta.html

This was the right point for manjar blanco, which was also right for the cajeta because the same characteristic is labeled punto de cajeta.

Now we know that manjar blanco needs to be a thick mixture.  But made out of what?  The word blancmange is French for "white food."  And it is a classic recipe.  I wanted to know how it was interpreted in Pinedo's time and culture.  I turned to a book we know she consulted for some of her recipes, Novisimo Arte de Cocina. 

Published in 1852.  

On page 145 of Novisimo is recipe number 86:

 

This translates to:

This is made with twelve quarts of milk, three pounds of sugar, one pound of ground and sifted rice, a cooked chicken breast, salt ground on a clean metate, orange blossom water and the usual point.

I really didn't want to make this with twelve quarts of milk, so I chose to use one quart of milk and adjusted the others accordingly.

My Redaction

1 quart milk  

4 ounces sugar

2 ounces rice

2 ounces cooked chicken breast

a dash of salt

a splash of orange blossom water

Not too many ingredients at all!

Grind rice in a coffee grinder that is reserved only for spices, then sift through a fine sieve to remove the largest particles. (You can grind the large particles more if you'd like.)

Chop and then grind the chicken in a mortar until it resembles a paste.

Put the milk in a saucepan.  Dissolve the sugar and salt in the milk.

Add some of the milk to the chicken breast, pound some more to make it more of a paste.  Then push it through a coarse sieve to remove any chunks.  Push it right into the rest of the milk.  *The goal is to not have any chunks.*

Mix the chicken into the milk thoroughly.

Whisk the rice into the milk in stages - adding small amounts and whisking well in between. 

Begin heating the milk over medium low heat (I used 4 out of 10).  Whisk it often.  This helps avoid a "skin" from the milk from forming on the surface.

Cook until thick (see description above).  Add orange blossom water at the very end.

Total cooking time was about 20 minutes. 

Refrigerate the mixture, covered, if you want it to be cold. 

Ground rice above and rejected pieces below.

Chopped chicken breast, ready for pounding.

Pounded, ready to be sieved.

Being pushed through the sieve, after pounding with milk.

Keep stirring that mixture!

 My Notes

If you really want to be authentic, you can grind the rice by hand.  I did not.  : )

The chicken breast needs to be very finely ground.  I pushed it through the coarse sieve to get out any bits that didn't grind well, and I was glad I did.  This recipe is supposed to be smooth. 

If you love orange blossom water as I do, you can add a few splashes.  I was taking this dish to share at a gathering, so I restrained myself.

When it was cooking, I kept looking for the correct punto.  I wasn't sure if I should expect it to show in the hot mixture or, like jellies, in a small amount that is somewhat cooler.  I really should have known because I have studied the physical characteristics as part of Pinedo's book, but I chose to use the smaller amount.  This was my mistake.

What I did was put a spoonful into a small bowl and let it cool for a minute, then I dragged a spoon through it.  It looked to be at the point of blancmange.  I should have kept cooking the mixture in the pan until it reached that point.

When I thought I had reached the right point, I poured the mixture into a bowl.  Drops that fell onto the surface stayed on top, briefly. (See the picture.)

Then I covered the bowl and popped it into the refrigerator.

See?  The drops stayed on top for a little bit!

 The Verdict

I took this mixture to a gathering (one where people know me enough to expect something "different" in my contribution).  I always put a paper with my dish listing the ingredients - quite often this gathering has vegetarians and vegans who attend and they need to know what they might be eating.

First, I liked it, but I felt it wasn't thick enough.  It was too soupy, okay not runny (see the picture) but too soft.

Thicker than soup but not thick enough. I can see granulation that I didn't like.

I liked the flavor, although my taste buds wanted more of the orange blossom water.  That's just me!  I love the scent!

I also felt that the rice wasn't fully cooked - I kept thinking I felt a little grit or "lack of smoothness" on my tongue.

But I did ask the members of the gathering to give me feedback.  Everyone who talked to me said they liked it.  They liked the texture, thickness, flavor, and sweetness.  

Here's the thing:  Not very many people gave me feedback - fewer than usual at this gathering.  And I noticed that not much of the mixture was taken, so fewer tried it. After the gathering's host took what he wanted to keep (he really liked it), I took the rest home.

So while I would call this a success, I chide myself for not cooking it further to the true punto de manjar blanco.  If I were to do it again, I would cook it longer, perhaps to at least 30 minutes, and check for the physical characteristic of the mixture in the pan.

 

Greek Meat Pie - This one is for my Dad

My Dad passed away in October, 2014.  I still miss him.

I was looking at things around my house that reminded me of him, and I got to thinking about him from a food perspective.  I have a clear memory of being in my mid-teens when he took me to a local butcher shop and bought some extra-thick pork chops.  Once home, he cut a pocket into them, stuffed them, and baked them.  My dad!  He didn't always cook, but he liked to give it a try now and then.

My stepmother, who is an excellent cook, used to make this main course recipe for him, which he LOVED.  I'm not sure what book she got the recipe from, but it doesn't matter, because she modified it to suit his (their!) tastes and preferences.  That is what I decided to try for this post.

So here you go, Dad, this one is for you.  Thanks to my stepmom for sharing the recipe.

Kreatopita Cephalonitiki - Greek Meat Pie, Island Version  
- as modified by my stepmom and a little by me.

2 pounds ground beef

olive oil, as needed

1 onion, chopped 

2 cloves garlic, crushed and chopped 

1/4 cup rice

1 tsp salt

1/2 tsp pepper

1/4 cup dry red wine

orange zest from one whole orange, finely grated

1 Tablespoon finely chopped fresh mint

1 teaspoon dried parsley

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

3 Tablespoons canned, diced tomatoes, pureed (or tomato sauce)

1 large zucchini, raw, diced

1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese

1/2 cup four-cheese mixture, shredded (or Parmesan or Romano)

1/2 pound filo sheets (divided into two sets of four 1/2 sheets each)

1/4 cup (or less) melted butter

 

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. 

Cook the ground beef in a little olive oil until just a little pink is left.  

Separately, saute the chopped onion in olive oil until golden; turn off the heat and add the chopped garlic, tossing for another minute or so more. 

Move the meat to a bowl, saving the juices in a measuring cup and skimming off the fat, if you can.  Add the salt and pepper to the meat.  Add the onion and garlic mixture, mixing well.

Add water to the juices to achieve 2 cups liquid.

Put the rice and one cup of the juices in the meat's fry pan, bring to a boil, then reduce the heat, cover, and simmer for 10 minutes.  Check it occasionally to make sure there is enough water, adding more as necessary.

In the bowl with the meat, add the rice, the last cup of the juices, wine, orange rind, mint, parsley, cinnamon, tomato puree, diced zucchini, and the two cheeses.  Mix together well.

Melt the butter over a low heat. 

Butter an 8 x 12 x 2-inch glass casserole dish.  Line the bottom half with four half-sheets of filo, brushing each layer with butter.

Spread the filling evening over the filo.  Cover the filling with four more half-sheets of filo, again brushing each layer with butter.

Score through the top layers of filo to designate 8 pieces.

Bake for 45 minutes.  Remove from the oven and let cool for 15 minutes before cutting and serving.

Still a bit of pink left in that meat.

The garlic is barely cooked, but it sure smells good.

Watch the rice so it doesn't dry out.

All the filling ingredients, premixing.

Now they are mixed.

TOO. MUCH. BUTTER.

Beautiful, no?

My Notes

The original recipe started with leg of lamb, but my stepmom and I both used ground beef.

I wrote down the spice amounts she used, but I used a fresh orange and fresh mint.

The original recipe specified potatoes, but we both liked the idea of zucchini.  It also said to put sliced hard-boiled eggs over the top of the meat mixture before covering it.  

She used a butter-flavored spray instead of butter.  I went for the butter!

The Verdict

This is tasty!  It is a robust meal, very filling, but the spices make it interesting and the zucchini makes it lighter than using potatoes.

The meat gives an umami taste, of course; the spices add complexity, although I wished I had added more orange zest; and the filo dough gives a nice crunch.  I think some of the spices could be increased, too, and you would still have a lovely meal.

The only issue we (myself and several guest tasters) had was that I was too heavy-handed with the butter between the layers.  It was too buttery, which distracted from the rest of flavors.  I haven't used filo in a long time, and I should have just put a light layer between the sheets.   It wasn't a problem with the top layer, but it was with the bottom layer. 

Success! 

We had leftovers, which were also tasty, except we couldn't get the crunch back into the top layers of filo.  That was okay.