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.

Mustasole, an Italian cookie with connections to immigration

I was studying the food opportunities (or lack thereof!) of people who traveled steerage class in the 1800s and early 1900s, when I came across a recipe that caught my attention.  It is from The Ellis Island Immigrant Cookbook, written by Tom Bernardin.  Click here to find it online.  Mr. Bernardin worked at the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island Immigration Museum sites, giving tours and developing a slide show on the history of Ellis Island which he presented many times.  In the process, he decided he needed to gather the recipes from the immigrants, employees, and their families.  His book was the result of these efforts.

ISBN:  0-9629198-4-5

His recipes came from 33 countries and often were accompanied by stories from the person who sent them, telling about the immigrant family member or the memories they had of the food.  As someone who is interested in food history, I marvel at the old methods of cooking contained in these recipes.  For example, one called "Biscuit de Reims" starts with: 

Take 9 eggs and weigh them and take the same weight in sugar.

Take 6 eggs and weigh them and take the same weight in flour.

Take 3 eggs and weigh them and take the same weight in butter. 

We don't think about measuring that way, but imagine a person who cannot determine in advance how much an egg from her hens would weigh.  Also keep in mind that standardized measurements were not common until the early 1900s (thank you, Fannie Farmer!), but using the weighing method - no matter what unit you worked in - should work.

The recipe I choose to make is called Mustasole, which is probably a spelling variant of Mustazzoli or Mostaccioli.  It is possible the name originated from the Roman words meaning "cake made with must."  Must is freshly squeezed, unfiltered grape juice; sometimes it is cooked to concentrate the flavors and intensify the sugars, and this is called "saba."  

This recipe is made with honey, so the flavor profile would be different than one using must.  The final goal is to make a cookie that is hard when dry but soft when moist, lasts for months or even years without spoiling, and does not make crumbs.

On page 116, we find mustasole recipe along with a reminiscence from the contributor, Ms. Saiia, revealing how her family and others used these cookies for nutrition on the sea voyage.

Mustasole

3 cups sifted all-purpose flour in a bowl

1 1/2 cups sifted all-purpose flour in a cup

1 1/2 cups melted honey, warm

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon vanilla or lemon flavor

Place 3 cups flour in bowl, add hot honey, salt, flavor and mix well.  Add more flour to make very stiff dough, knead on a board till smooth.  Place in bowl and cover and let rest for at least 12 hours, not in refrigerator.  Divide in 4 pieces - knead each till smooth, using little flour.  Shape as you would children's clay - build on ungreased cookied sheets - add little oil on top and shine, or water to make it stick.  Bake at 325 degrees for 15 to 20 minutes (gas or electric varies) till golden brown.  Remove from pan while hot and lay on flat surface to harden.  (Limp when hot - hard when cold.)  No crumbs.

My Notes

I chose to use vanilla, although the lemon had me intrigued.  

I heated the honey in the microwave for about 1 1/2 minutes, so it was hot and very liquid.

I mixed all the ingredients in the bowl with a spoon until the dough was not as sticky.  Then I moved it to the cutting board that was dusted with flour.  I kneaded it by hand, adding flour, until the dough was smooth, firm, and not sticky when touched quickly.  I noticed that when the dough sat for a minute or two, it started to stick to the board.

The bowl for resting was lightly dusted with flour and I put the dough in that.  I covered it with a cloth and let it rest for 30 hours (it was a busy time!). 

There was about 3/4 cup of flour left of the 1 1/2 cups.  Flour can absorb different amounts of liquid depending on when the wheat was harvested or ground or how old the flour is, so having this extra was good.  

All bowl ingredients, before stirring.

Stirred, but with no extra flour added.

Stirred with extra flour added.  Ready for kneading.

Kneaded and ready for a rest.

Notice the instructions don't specify the thickness of the dough.  I tried thick (about 1/2 inch), thin (about 1/4 inch), and very thin (less than 1/4 inch).  I noticed that the thick took more than 20 minutes to get golden brown, thin about 15 minutes, and very thin about 8 minutes.  So aim for 1/4 inch thick.

So for thick I used my hands to roll a log and then pound it flat.  I used a bench scraper to cut the pieces.

For thin and very thin, I used a small wooden rolling pin.  This was amusing because with 1/4 of the dough, it rolled very, very long and narrow!

I played with the size of the shapes while the oven preheated.  

For the thick.

For the thin!

The dough doesn't spread, you can place them close together on the pan.  

Thick.  I didn't think they would spread, but I was careful anyway.

Thin.  Crowd them together!

Baked thick.

Baked thin.

The Verdict

The one recipe made a basket full of mustasole of all three thicknesses.

Liberty cookies!

They were as hard as rocks once they cooled down.  After a few days in the basket, they had absorbed some moisture from the air and were a little bit softer, especially the thin and very thin ones.

I tried eating them by soaking them in tea.  It took several minutes of watching tiny bubbles floating up from them before they were soft enough to chew without stressing my jaw joint.  Other times I broke up a cookie (thin or very thin) and put it in my mouth, holding it there until it softened from my saliva.

The flavor was good!  The honey and vanilla came shining through, which made the otherwise chewy experience pleasant.  I had to be patient while the cookie softened, so a little honey flavor in my mouth while waiting helped.

The texture was very fine, and I did not get any crumbs.  

The thick one, cut open to show the texture.

I declare it a success!  I can imagine an immigrant bringing a box of these to use as a meal supplement  (or replacement, as needed) on the ship ride, that the wait for them to get soft enough to chew made the meal seem longer, and that a taste of home would be welcome.

This recipe is very similar to the lebkuchen cookies I made previously, following a medieval recipe.  Click here to view it.  It took a few tries to get it successful, so click here to see the other post on it.  Basically, they are same, but lebkuchen has spices added to it.  Since the lebkuchen dough can sit in a container for years (supposedly with improvement), I didn't worry about the mustasole sitting on the counter for 30 hours.  I would say the mustasole has less sweetener in it, but that is just a guess. Both mustasole and lebkuchen are traditionally frosted with a chocolate glaze, if decorated at all.

I'm going to take most of the cookies, put them in a tin box, and put them in storage.  I'll check them in a few months to see how they are doing.  If there is anything important to report, I'll let you know.

Now I wonder how this cookie would do made with freshly-squeezed grape juice.  I think you would have to worry about the juice fermenting if you let it sit for at least 12 hours.  And would it store for a long time?