Guisado de carne de puerco, Pork meat stew -- a Pinedo recipe

I was perusing the Pinedo cookbook looking for inspiration - what recipe did I want to do today?  I had a fresh pork loin in the fridge, so I focused on a recipe that used it.  Now I think I have stated previously:  I love meat-and-fruit combinations, so this recipe caught my full attention.  Pork and pineapple!  And a lovely group of spices.

On page 114 is Guisado de carne de puerco, or Pork meat stew.  It looked simple to prepare (boy, did I need that!) and needs a lot of time to slow-cook everything.

My Translation

My Redaction

1 medium brown onion

1 1/2 teaspoons chopped garlic

3.4 pound boneless pork loin

3/4 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon dried oregano

1 teaspoon whole coriander (you will want more)

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

1 tablespoon dried parsley

1 tablespoon sugar

3 ounces white wine

1 ounce white wine vinegar

4 ounces chicken broth

1- 20 ounce can pineapple chunks in juice

2 tablespoons butter

And the butter.

Peel and chop the onion into medium dice.  Melt the butter in a Dutch oven.  Add the onion and garlic.  Saute slowly over medium low heat (3 of 10) until transluscent.  

Meanwhile, preheat a small, dry skillet over medium heat (5 of 10).  Place the coriander in it and start stirring, constantly, until the seeds are golden brown.  Place in a mortar or spice mill and crush.

Cut the meat into big, bite-sized chunks.  Place in a large bowl.  Sprinkle the oregano, parsley, coriander, cloves, and salt over the meat.  Toss them together to distribute the seasonings on the meat.

Put the meat into the Dutch oven.  Sprinkle on the sugar.  Pour the broth, wine, and vinegar over the top.

Drain the pineapple.  If the chunks are large, coarsely chop them.  Add to the Dutch oven.

Stir everything well.  Bring the liquid to just barely boiling, then reduce the heat to low (1 of 10).  

Cover the pan and cook, stirring occasionally, for 1 1/2 hours or until the meat is very tender.  The stew should be barely simmering.

Untoasted coriander on the left.  Toasted in the mortar, just before crushing.  

Ready to slow cook.

After 1 1/2 hours.

My Notes

I laughed at how the recipe does not include measurements for everything except the sugar.  I guess that no matter how much pork and et cetera you have, you should only use one tablespoon sugar.

I could have used fresh oregano and parsley, but I chose to use dried, just for convenience.  

The Verdict

I served it with white rice on the side.

First I tasted the liquid with it.  It was slightly sweet, but more savory, and the flavors of the spices and herbs came through.  I was glad the vinegar was not dominant, but it seemed to balance out the sweet of the pineapple and the umami of the cooked pork and chicken broth.

Then I tasted the meat.  It was so very tender!  But not overcooked, so still a touch firm, which I liked.  

The onions and garlic were subtle background flavors.  I could barely tell they were there.  The pineapple was cooked to tender, too.  

My guest taster and I both thought the salt level was just right.

We both agreed, however, that the herbal flavors were dominant, and we thought that did not seemed balanced.  So we added some (non-toasted) ground coriander to our bowls of stew and stirred it in.  That was much better!  It seemed to reduce the impact of the herbs in a very positive way.  Definitely more balanced.

So I added a teaspoon of ground coriander to the rest of the stew.  I have not tried it yet, but I think it will be fine.

I recommend using 2 teaspoons or more of the whole coriander to see if that suits your tastebuds.

Success!

We enjoyed it, especially with the rice to mix with the stew's liquid.  It is not a blockbuster meal as the flavors are not bold, but it is a nice, shall I say "calm" meal.  Not everything has to knock your tastebuds over.  

There was enough stew left over that we look forward to having it for another dinner.

Another Persimmon Salad from the 1940s

Did I happen to mention that I have a lot of persimmons in my kitchen?  And that I have an interest in exploring what California cuisine meant in the 1940s?

The first recipe I posted using persimmons and relating to California cuisine was a persimmon salad that was so basic:  whole, peeled persimmons embedded in lemon gelatin.  That's it!  It was tasty and light, so it was a success.  You can see the post by clicking here:  Persimmon Salad from the 1940s.

Today's post is from the same book, The California Cook Book for Indoor and Outdoor Eating by Genevieve Callahan.

For Indoor and Outdoor Eating

On pages 42 - 43, she offered another version, this one more elaborate.

Jellied Persimmon Salad

3 large, very ripe persimmons

20 ounce can crushed pineapple

3 ounce box lemon-flavored gelatin

dash salt

"Fluffy fruit dressing"*

Those persimmons are as soft as pudding.

Choose a container to act as a mold for the salad.  It needs to hold at least 4 cups volume.  Lightly spray it with non-stick cooking spray and then wipe out the excess.  

Open can of pineapple, pour into a colander over a bowl so the fruit drains and you save the liquid.

Pull off and discard the tops of the persimmons then use a spoon and your fingers to start peeling.  At a certain point it becomes easier to just scoop the pulp out of the skin.

Put pulp in a bowl and mash thoroughly with a potato masher.  Remove and discard any seeds.

Mix in 1 cup crushed pineapple.  Cover and put in the refrigerator.

Add enough water to the pineapple juice to make 1 1/2 cups.   

Heat in the microwave for 2 to 2 1/2 minutes or until boiling.  Alternatively, heat on the stove.

Add the gelatin and stir vigorously until it is clear or mostly so.

Put the gelatin in the refrigerator.  Cool until slightly thickened.

Add a dash of salt and fold in the fruit.

Pour into the mold, shake or tap to level it and remove any air bubbles.

Refrigerate until solid.

Serve as suggested by Ms. Callahan.

*Fluffy fruit dressing recipe will be in the next post.

My Notes

I didn't have three large persimmons, so I used 1 large and four small.  They were very ripe, dark orange and squishy to the touch.

My pineapple came in juice, not syrup, but I didn't worry about have less sugar in the dish.  There was precisely 1 cup liquid.

I chilled the gelatin in a glass measuring cup for 1 hour, 45 minutes, which was too long.  It wasn't "slightly thickened," it was thick but not fully set.  I crossed my fingers and proceeded with the recipe anyway.

My main concern was that the gelatin with all the fruit in it would not set up all the way, or at all.  All I could do was hope.

The mold chilled overnight.  When I took the salad out of the mold, I rubbed the mold all over with a hot, damp cloth to loosen the gelatin.

Persimmon pulp, crushed pineapple, and liquid gelatin.

Chilled!

The Verdict

I took it to a friendly barbeque gathering and presented it as a salad.  People were surprised that it wasn't a dessert, but I emphasized that the cookbook author claimed it was a salad and that it wasn't very sweet.

One person was somewhat skeptical about eating it at all, claiming that having grown up in the midwest, his experience with gelatin-based dishes was not very positive.  But he was willing to try it.

I did not serve it on a bed of lettuce, as Ms. Callahan suggested.  I simply tipped the mold out onto a plate and put a big spoonful of the fluffy fruit dressing in the middle.  The rest of the dressing was served on the table so people could choose to add more as they liked.

My first reaction was that it was pretty.  The gelatin was orange from the persimmons.  The visual texture was nice, too, as the crushed pineapple was lighter in color than the persimmon pulp in contrast and the pieces of fruit gave depth to the presentation.  Also, the dressing was a soft pink color, which looked good with the gelatin.

Out of the mold and with the dressing.  Extra dressing in the upper right corner.

As for the taste, I liked it!  Even better than the previous persimmon salad.  It was more complex in flavor, had an interesting texture while chewing, and, as several guests said, "it was balanced."  It was not too sweet and the lemon-persimmon-pineapple flavors worked well together.  The dressing was tart with the flavors of currant and lemon, which is what everyone thought made the entire combination balanced.  Not sweet but sweet-and-tart.  The fluffy dressing contrasted well with the more solid gelatin.

Several people wanted me to mention that they took a second serving, and that was a compliment.  

As for my midwest skeptic?  He tried it and liked it!  He said that the balance of flavors and the way all the parts came together made him realize what the gelatin dishes of his childhood should have been like.  

My only complaint is that the gelatin was too soft.  That could be because the gathering was outside and it was sunny, but it slumped as time went on and the leftovers never firmed up again, even after being refrigerated.  I also wonder if I waited too long to mix in the fruit and salt.  I think that there was enough liquid between the pineapple juice and water and persimmon pulp that it may have needed more gelatin.  A small boost from a packet of unflavored gelatin would have worked, as well as using a larger box of flavored gelatin.

Ms. Callahan notes elsewhere in the book that the pinch of salt gives two advantages:  it helps to set the gelatin and it brings out the flavors in the dish.  I guess it worked because my guest tasters liked it!

Success!

See the next post for the recipe for the "Fluffy Fruit Dressing", which is a recipe called the "Women's Club Fruit Dressing."

 

Empiñada - a Tomato, Pineapple, and Chicken Stew (a 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.

Ante de Camote y Piña - A Luscious Dessert with Sweet Potatoes and Pineapple

In the previous post I wrote about making a mamón, a cake that is traditional to the Oaxaca region of Mexico.  Its recipe came from Encarnación Pinedo's book, El cocinero español.

The mamón turned out beautifully and was ready for me to use it in this recipe, Ante de Camote y Pina.  An "ante" is a dessert with a long history - the Encyclopedic Dictionary of Mexican Gastronomy defines it as:

[An] Old dish made of bread (sponge cake or marquesote) bathed in a mixture of sugar syrup and fruit pulp, and decorated with dried fruits or pieces of the same fruit with which it was made.  Its origin dates back several centuries in Spain, but it is not known exactly how long it was prepared.  In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, certain sweet preparations were made in Mexican convents that were used before the meal; that is why they were called "before."  Sometimes they included ground chicken breast.

Taste and tradition changed over time, and in the second half of the 19th century they were already served after the meal, as dessert.  Its name and most of its ingredients were preserved, since they were made mainly from fruits as we know them today.  The former sweets for dessert are considered of Mexican origin, because here they underwent many changes and tropical fruits typical of these lands were used.  Ante was a very popular dessert in Oaxaca during the 19th and early 20th centuries, but today the tradition is dying out. 

Miss Pinedo's book has a whole category on antes, some using apples or apricots, some with milk, and even one with chocolate.  I chose this one because the combination of pineapple with sweet potatoes intrigued me.

Ante de camote y piña  (page 16)

Para una piña se tomarán tres libras de camote que se rayarán o molerán sin dejarles hebra alguna.

A cada libra de estas frutas se le pondrá libra y media de azúcar: Todo se pondrá al fuego hasta que tome punto de pasta, que es el de pegarse al cazo.

Se hará almíbar de medio punto con un poco de vino blanco para rociar con ella el mamón rebanado. Se pondrá una capa de mamón y otra de pasta hasta llegar á la última, la que se rociará con canela en polvo.

Sweet Potato and Pineapple Ante

For each pineapple, three pounds of sweet potato will be taken; they will be finely grated or ground with any fibers.

Each pound of these fruits will be given a pound and a half sugar: everything will be put on the fire until it takes point of paste, which will stick to the saucepan.

A syrup will be made with a little wine white; sprinkle the mamón with it. Put a layer of cake and another of paste, repeat until reaching the last, the one sprinkled with cinnamon powder.

My Redaction

1/2 pound fresh pineapple (weighed after peeling and coring)

1/2 pound sweet potato (weighed after peeling)

1 1/2 pounds sugar

4 ounces white wine

4 ounces sugar

powdered cinnamon

mamón (see previous post for recipe)

Filling ingredients

Chop the pineapple into small pieces (not pureed), being sure to keep all the juice.

Chop or grate the sweet potato into tiny pieces, about the size of a grain of rice.

Put these in a saucepan (with the juice!) and mix in the 1 1/2 pounds of sugar.

Cook over medium heat, stirring only occasionally, until the mixture starts to thicken, at about 135 degrees F.  Reduce heat as needed to keep the mixture from boiling over.  Remove from the heat when it reaches temperature.

In the meantime, make a simple syrup by mixing the white wine and 4 ounces of sugar together in a small pan.  Cook over medium high heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture becomes clear and begins to boil.  Remove from the heat.

Create the ante by slicing the mamón into 1/2 inch thick pieces and layering them like this:

• A layer of mamón, with about 1/3 of the simple syrup spooned evenly over it
• About half of the pineapple mixture spread over the mamón 
• Another layer of mamón with syrup
• Another layer of pineapple mixture
• The final layer of mamón with syrup

Sprinkle the top with powdered cinnamon.  

Let stand to cool and allow the syrup to distribute through the mamón.

My Notes

Since the fresh pineapple I bought was small and weighed about 3 pounds, I decided that the ratio of pineapple to sweet potato should be one-to-one.  I used the food processor to chop the pineapple.  I didn't want it to be too finely chopped as I thought some texture in the fruit layer would be good.

I chopped the sweet potato separately and finely.  Since it was going to be cooked in the syrup and wouldn't necessarily become pureed, I didn't want big, chewy chunks in it.

The pineapple juice initially moistened the sugar and then the sugar extracted more juice.  It didn't take long for the mixture to be wet.

Cooking it over medium high heat got it to boiling quickly.

Then I turned the heat down so it was cooking but not going crazy.

I had to decide how far it should cook.  Should it be taken off the fire as soon as it felt thick?  Or should it cook until it stuck to the side of the pan?  Both of these were suggested in the recipe.  Also, Miss Pinedo's instructions in a different part of the book on cooking syrups like this described the hard ball stage of cooking sugar.  That takes it to about 145 degrees F.  

It started looking thick around 120 degrees F.  It was more sticky at around 135 degrees F.  I took it to 145 degrees F.

It was then I realized this was probably a mistake, as the little bit that had stuck to the stirring spoon set up hard: not break-your-teeth hard but pull-out-your-fillings sticky and chewy.  If it got too cool before I assembled the ante, I wouldn't be able to spread it.  So I worked quickly to put it all together.

First a layer of mamón, then spooned some wine syrup over the top.  Not a lot since she said to sprinkle it.

Mamón only

With the lovely tasting wine syrup

Then I poured the pineapple mixture over it and spread it with a spoon.  I tried to get it to the sides to show off its color against the white of the mamón.

Three layers of mamón seemed right -- not too tall but still interesting to look at and, hopefully, the right proportion of fruit to cake.  When I was sprinkling the cinnamon on top, it got a little out of control and I put on more than I intended.

Ante, first attempt.

I had both filling and mamón left over, so I dissolved the filling in water and recooked it, this time to 135 degrees F.  I made another batch of the wine syrup.  This time I really soaked the mamón with the syrup because I had made a larger quantity:  6 ounces white wine to 6 ounces sugar.  The filling spread well.  I went a little crazy with the cinnamon on top.

Ante, second attempt.

The Verdict

I had three new guest tasters, one of whom had eaten mamón before.  She declared mine "excellent" and said they all liked the ante. 

My two other guest tasters and I tried both versions.  We all agreed on these assessments:

The first version had a crispy mamón and the filling was chewy.  That was good!  The mamón was sturdy enough to stand up to the filling and it was intriguing to have a bite of "cake" that was more like a very light cookie.  The wine syrup made the mamón just a little bit moist and added a floral under-flavor - almost not noticeable but still appreciated.  Having the moisture kept each bite from being too dry or chewy.

The filling had a robust flavor that was mainly pineapple but you could tell it wasn't just pineapple.  So the sweet potato did add flavor and it definitely added texture.  I was surprised it didn't soften when it was cooked, which makes me think that it candied.  I had anticipated it would smooth out and turn the whole filling into a paste.  It was more like a chunky, chewy candy.  I was glad I had chopped the sweet potato into such tiny pieces or it could have been too chunky.

The cinnamon on top was really such a good idea.  It was the perfect accompaniment to all the other flavors.  Whoever thought of that deserves kudos.  

The second version was very different in texture.  Recooking the filling to a softer stage meant it wasn't chewy; it resisted my bite a little but wasn't something I had to chew to eat.  It was more like those cake fillings that are made of fruit and thickened with cornstarch -- moist and firm but not hard.  

Also, I had soaked the mamón with a lot more syrup because I had read that it was supposed to soak up the liquid.  This made a huge difference in its texture -- cutting a bite with my fork, I felt that it was much softer and it made that "moist cake" noise. 

Putting the soaked mamón with the softer filling was a very good idea.  With both of them being softer than the first version, we felt they were well-balanced.  The cinnamon on top was still a good idea.

So both were a success!  If you want crispy, don't soak the mamón too much.  If you want moist, really soak it with the syrup.  Matching the chewiness of the filling is good, too.  

One comment that my two guest tasters made that surprised me was that they both felt it wasn't too sweet.  Why was I surprised?  There is sugar in everything!  But overall, the impression they got was "not too sweet", which they liked.  

If I make this again, I would change the shape of the mamón, making it thin and bigger, like a layer cake round or square.  I liked the three layer effect and the balance of the about 1/2 inch mamón with the thinner layer of filling between.  I didn't like how I had to piece it together to make the layers.  How much syrup would I use to soak the mamón?  I think it would depend on how I felt at the time.  Both the moist and the crispy versions were good.

Don't forget the cinnamon on top!