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!

Mamones de Almidón -- An Historical Flour-free Cake

I've been reading Encarnación Pinedo's 1898 cookbook, El cocinero español.   Miss Pinedo lived near San Jose, California during the last half of the 19th century and became an accomplished cook.  Her book is the only collection of Rancho era cooking we have, the food of the Californios.  Her family lived in that area before California became part of the United States, and they were highly influential for many years.  This is an important resource for understanding this time period.

One category that caught my attention was called "Ante."  Now that means "before", so I took it to mean it was an appetizer or a first course.  But the recipes described a dessert, and that confused me.  Seven of the eight recipes called for fruit cooked into a thick syrup and put into layers with an ingredient called "mamón".  The eighth called for "bizcocho", which is a biscuit.  I believed from this that mamón was bread or cake.  

A look around the internet first seemed that my hunch was right.  I found a recipe for a chiffon cake called mamon, but it was from the Philippines, and I wasn't sure it was the same thing.  Digging some more, I found that mamón could refer to the Spanish lime, which is like a cross between a lychee and a lime.  It is a fruit that people mostly eat fresh, although it is popular as a juice.  Looking hard at the recipes, I tried to imagine a first course refreshing beverage made with slices of Spanish limes.

But that just didn't seem right. Miss Pinedo lived in Northern California, and Spanish limes don't grow there.  They could have been shipped but the recipes just seem to point to a cake.

I set that question aside and continued to read.  And, guess what?  I found a whole section on mamones much later on in the book.  Yes, I was right, they are cakes or rolls, sweetened and sometimes flavored with anise or sweet almonds.  The word "mamón" means "sucker", because sometimes they are moistened with a sugar syrup which they "suck up" or absorb.  Another name for the mamón is "marquesote", and you can click here to read more about it.

To make an ante I needed to first make a mamón, and that is what this post is about.  Come back again for the next post, which will be about the ante.

Here is Miss Pinedo's recipe, as found on page 153 of her book.

Mamones de almidón.

Se baten veinte y cuatro huevos, separadas las claras de las yemas, hasta que se pongan duras.

Aparte se mezclan con las claras dos pozuelos de azúcar en polvo, y estando bien incorporada, se le añadirán las yemas, revolviendo todo cerca de la estufa, vaciando en el batido diez y ocho onzas de almidón de maíz: se seguirá batiendo con una mano mientras se le pone con la otra el almidón, para que no forme granos. Tan luego como todo esté incorporado, se vaciará prontamente en las cajas, que solo se llenarán hasta la mitad para ponerlas á cocer en un horno suave.

 

Starch Mamones

Twenty-four eggs are beaten, the whites separated from the yolks, until they get hard.

In addition, two cups of powdered sugar are mixed with the whites, and then the yolks are well incorporated, stirring everything near the stove, then empty into the batter eighteen ounces cornstarch:  continue beating with one hand while putting the starch in with the other, so that it does not form lumps.   As soon as everything is incorporated, it will be promptly emptied into the boxes, which will only be filled halfway; put them to cook in a soft oven.

 

My Notes

I didn't know this technique, so I looked around the internet.  Click here to see the video that helped me understand what to do.  I used the quantities in this video so I didn't have to use 24 eggs.  Note that I used powdered sugar as Miss Pinedo specified.

Redaction

5 eggs, separated

300 grams cornstarch

180 grams powdered sugar

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees F.

Beat the egg whites until stiff.

Add the powdered sugar in batches and mix it well into the egg whites, using a low speed on the mixer and stopping the scrape the sides as needed.  

Add the yolks, one at a time, incorporating each one well before adding the next.

Then add the cornstarch, a big spoonful at a time, incorporating it well before adding the next and stopping to scrape the sides as needed.

Once the batter is done, pour it into pans.  I chose to use four tiny loaf pans because I thought that shape would be best for the ante.  Each pan was ungreased and filled about halfway.

The pans went onto a bigger pan so they could all be handled at once.  

They baked for 40 minutes, until a pick inserted into the middle came out clean.

I let them cool in their pans on a wire rack until I could easily hold them, then I slid a spatula around the sides.  They all popped out easily.  They finished cooling on the rack.

Egg whites plus powdered sugar

And now with the yolks

The batter has the cornstarch and the pans are half full.

Fresh out of the oven!

Final cooling

A close up.

The Verdict

I sliced one loaf into 1/2 inch wide pieces lengthwise.  The texture was perfect:  uniformly tiny holes, no part was too dry or too wet.  The exterior was just a little darker than the interior -- not over- or undercooked.

I tasted one.  As a cake, it left something to be desired.  The mouthfeel was more pasty than I expected, and rather dry, and the flavor was almost not there.  I suppose that was to be expected as it was just cornstarch, sugar, and eggs.  I think my mouth was expecting a moist piece of cake and this wasn't it.

But I knew how it was to be handled for the ante, so I consider it a success.  Tune in to the next post to see how the ante turned out.

Barebottom Cheesecake

What do you think of when you have a huge chunk of cream cheese that is threatening to go bad on you?  Well, I thought of cheesecake.  The next thought was, "Which cheesecake recipe?"  You see, I have a copy of The Joy of Cheesecake by Dana Bovbjerg and Jeremy Iggers, and it gives me many, many luscious options.

ISBN 0-8120-4278-6

What was I in the mood for?  Heavy?  Light?  Custardy?  Marbled?  Flavored with spices or fruit?  

It ended being decided by how much sour cream I had in the house.  With a little less than 2 cups, and not having any heavy cream, I had to limit myself to the recipes that required less than those two.  

I chose the Barebottom Cheesecake on page 84:

We call this one the Barebottom Cheesecake because it works well even without a crust -- great if you are in a hurry or if you don't have any crumbs on hand.  This is one of the cheesecakes we test on the customers of the Sheepshead Cafe in Iowa City.  It proved to be one of the most popular ones ever served there.  

With a recommendation like that, how could I resist?  I chose to skip the crust and make it truly bare bottom.

Barebottom Cheesecake 

1 1/2 pounds cream cheese

1 cup granulated sugar

2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

6 large eggs, separated

2 teaspoons lemon juice

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 cup sour cream

That is a big chunk of cream cheese!

1.  Preheat the oven to 325 degrees.

2.  In a large mixing bowl, beat the cream cheese, sugar, and flour until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes.

3.  Add the egg yolks, one at a time, beating thoroughly after each until the mixture is smooth and blended.

4.  Add the lemon juice and the vanilla, then also stir in the sour cream.

5.  Whip the eggs whites until they form soft peaks, then fold into the cream-cheese mixture.

6.  Pour the mixture into the prepared crust or into an ungreased baking pan and bake for 1 hour, 10 minutes, until the center of the cake is firm.

7.  Cool the cake in the oven for 1 hour, with the door cracked open, then cool to room temperature.  Chill.

My Notes

I used my 9-inch springform pan as they recommended.  Since I was not doing a crust, I left it ungreased.

I chose to use vanilla sugar instead of regular sugar because I could.  I still put in the full measure of vanilla extract, though.  I love vanilla!

Before beating

The cream cheese, sugar, and flour were beaten for five minutes because I used a timer.  The mixture looked light and fluffy as required.

After beating

I had put all the yolks into one cup because I didn't read ahead in the instructions, but I used a tablespoon measure to scoop them out for the "one at a time" requirement.  They made the mixture a delightful soft yellow color.

The mixture was moved into a very large mixing bowl and the metal bowl was washed to ready it for the egg whites.  I think I took them to the firm peaks stage (past soft peaks) but I hoped it wouldn't be a problem.

It was a lot of mixture to fold in with the egg whites.  My experience is that it is easy to miss folding in the batter near the sides and especially at the bottom, so I put in extra attention on those areas.  Once it looked like there was no batter anywhere that didn't have egg white in it, I declared it folded.

The quantity of the batter was absolutely perfect for the springform pan.  I was astonished at how well it fit.  

A Perfect Fit!

It went into the oven while I promised myself not to open the door at all until the 1 hour and 10 minutes mark had passed.  It smelled good while it was baking!

I have to admit that this result is not what I was expecting:

Right after baking.

A very brown top and sides, the uniform tearing around the perimeter.  Well, at least the center was firm!  Perhaps I could have turned off the oven earlier but I wanted to see how this would turn out.

It cooled in the oven for one hour with the door open just wide enough for the handle of a wooden spoon to fit.

And then it sank.

After cooling in the oven for one hour.

I saw it sink more while it was cooling to room temperature.

The Verdict

My guest taster and I tried it without chilling it.  

It was hard to remove a piece without it falling apart, but then again, I didn't take off the springform ring.  So much was stuck to it that I wondered if the cheesecake would hold together or be torn apart if I removed the ring.  Also, I felt I needed to leave it on when it went into the refrigerator.  I will try that after the cheesecake has chilled.

How did it taste?  I was concerned the brown top would taste overcooked, but it didn't.  It was firm and a little toasty in flavor but not burnt or scorched or bad.

The interior texture was smooth, and each bite was so very light and yet was also moist, which we both liked.  It was almost like eating nothing.  One piece did not fill me like some cheesecakes do.

The lemon and vanilla came through, but very subtly.  There was also the cheese flavor but not strongly so.  Honestly, it was like eating light, tasty clouds.

We discussed the idea of adding a topping, like raspberries or a fruit compote, which we thought would be nice but truly not needed.  My guest taster said this was a "stand alone dessert."  I agreed.  It was fine even without a bottom crust.

The parts of the cheesecake that stuck to the sides of the pan were drier and more eggy in flavor.  Not bad, just not as nice as the moist interior.

Would I do this again?  Yes.  I call it a success.  But I would be more careful about getting the egg whites to just soft peak.  Did taking them further cause this to rise and fall so much?  I don't know but the description didn't mention this could happen, so I would guess that was the problem.  I would like to have the whole cake as moist and tender as the center was, and to avoid the drier parts that stuck to the ring.

We had a piece after it had chilled, too.  It was still wonderful and was nicely accompanied by a sherry-based liqueur.

A Stew that Stains the Tablecloth -- Manchamanteles

Lately I have been exploring Encarnación's Kitchen, a book of "Mexican Recipes from Nineteenth-Century California".  Its recipes are a portion of those in La Cocinero Español, "The Spanish Cook," written in Spanish by Encarnación Pinedo and published in 1898.  Encarnación's Kitchen was edited and translated by Dan Strehl.

ISBN 0-520-23651-3

Ms. Pinedo's book is important because it is the first published book of Californio recipes.  It gives us insight into the culture of the people who lived and thrived in California during its Mexican period, pre-Gold Rush.  There are decidedly Mexican recipes but you can also find ones with Spanish, Basque, French, and Italian influences.  She also includes recipes that use more locally specific ingredients, like the candied fruit of the barrel cactus.  

Mr. Strehl's translation includes an essay and an introduction which put Ms. Pinedo's work into historical context.  Well worth the read!

There are many recipes that are appealing.  What drew my attention were those with chiles.  I have lived most of my life in Southern California but I have never truly cooked with chiles.  This was an opportunity to experiment and improve my knowledge.

I chose Manchamanteles, which is on page 108 of Strehl's translation.

Manchamanteles  -- Stew That Stains the Tablecloth

Take some ripe tomatoes and remove the seeds.  Grind them with soaked, toasted dry chiles, cinnamon, and pepper.  After they are ground, fry in lard, mix with warm water, and add chickens or pork, cooked sausages, olives, vinegar, salt, a lump of sugar, yams, or peanuts.

My Redaction

2 ounces dried California type chiles

2 pounds, 9 ounces Roma tomatoes

1 scant teaspoon peppercorns

2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

4 ounces beef chorizo

1 pound, 6 ounces braised boneless pork

1 pound, 2 ounces yam

1/2 cup chopped peanuts, roasted and lightly salted

1 tablespoon sugar

1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar

1 teaspoon salt

1 cup chopped black olives

And the chiles.  See below.

My Notes

The tomatoes, chiles, pepper, and cinnamon form the sauce in which all the other ingredients simmer to make the stew.  My challenge was learning how to handle the chiles.

I read a lot about the different dried chile types and decided to pick the least "hot", the California or anaheim type.  That way my newbie taste buds received an easy introduction.

If you look carefully, you can see some red highlights.

To learn how to toast them, I found this website, How to Toast Dry Chile and Spices:

Heat a heavy-duty skillet (such as cast iron) over medium-high heat until you can feel the heat radiate from the surface. Working with one type of spice or chile at a time, add it to the skillet. Flip or stir frequently for even toasting, until browned for spices or lightly charred—not scorched—for chiles. Immediately transfer to a cool container.

So I heated up my cast iron skillet and tried toasting one chile, watching it carefully so it didn't char.  I used tongs to regularly flip and turn the chile.

I noticed that the chile originally was stiff, easily broken, and flat.  While it was heating, it became noticeably softer, flexible, and began to puff.

It was hard to see any changes in the color because it was originally so dark, but after toasting several, I noticed those changes as well as a slight change in the way the surface looked.  Just the parts that touched the pan seemed to toast.

I started gaining confidence and so started putting in two and sometimes three chiles at a time.  The bag I purchased contained three ounces of chiles.  I toasted them all but only used two ounces in the stew.

One puffed so much it popped!

Further reading across a variety of sources told me that to soak them, I needed to remove the stems, veins, and seeds and also to rinse the chiles well of any dust or grit.  After some experimenting, I found that I could break off the stem area, where most of the seeds where, then break the rest of the chile into pieces while rinsing out the seeds or pushing them out with my fingers.

The broken, seeded chiles were placed in a bowl and covered with boiling water.

I let them soak for an hour while I prepared the rest of the ingredients.  Then I drained them.

They were soft, flexible, and smelled good.  I noticed a few seeds but didn't worry about it.

I removed the stems and seeds of the tomatoes and cut them into big pieces.  Then I processed them in the blender to make four cups of puree.

Pretty in pink!

Once the chiles were ready, I put them into the blender along with some of the tomato puree and the cinnamon and pepper.  I blended them until the mixture was smooth.  I poured some of it out and added in the rest of the tomato puree so it was all well mixed.  The taste was of raw tomato with a mild chile bite.  I could taste the spices but they weren't overwhelming.  

The sauce went into my Dutch oven that was heated and had about 1 tablespoon olive oil in it (I was out of lard).

I decided that "frying it in lard" really meant to heat the sauce and cook it a little before the other ingredients went in.  I brought it to bubbling over medium heat and then let it simmer over a lower heat for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.

The braised pork chunk was cut into bite-sized cubes, the yam was peeled and diced, the chorizo was cooked in the skillet and then drained of its fat.  The whole olives were sliced and the peanuts were coarsely chopped.  

Once the sauce was ready, all the other ingredients were added and the mixture was stirred.  It looked too thick so I added a little hot water so it stirred easily.

I adjusted the heat to low, covered the pot, and let it simmer for about an hour, which is what it took to make the yam cubes soft.  Occasionally I stirred it.

The Verdict

I served it with a garnish of chopped peanuts and with warm flour tortillas on the side.

My guest taster and I were a little wary because neither of us are experienced hot chile eaters.  We both knew - intellectually - that I had chosen mild chiles but the chorizo certainly had a kick.  

So we took experimental bites and were pleasantly surprised at the flavor.  The chile heat was mild enough for us but it was there.  The pepper and especially the cinnamon were good background support flavors.  The chunks of ingredients -- pork, yams, olives, and peanuts -- were tender and had absorbed enough of the sauce flavors to be interesting.  The yams came across as slightly sweet.  The raw tomato taste was gone and the spices and other flavors had blended into a nice balance.

The sauce itself had a light sweetness to it, which we enjoyed.  We both decided it needed more vinegar, although we liked it as it was, too.  We ended up putting some aged balsamic vinegar on top and that was wonderful.  I think I would increase the apple cider vinegar to 2 tablespoons and perhaps put the second tablespoon in just before serving it.

The flour tortillas were a good accompaniment and actually the historically correct choice.  Ms. Pinedo lived in Northern California where it was easier to grow wheat than corn.  We each tore off pieces of the tortilla and spooned the stew onto it.  

Success!  I was pleased I handled processing the chiles well and that I didn't blast out our taste buds with too much heat.  If you want more heat, you could use the entire 9 ounce roll of chorizo or you could choose hotter dried chiles, like a pasilla ancho or more.  I bought some pasilla anchos for more experimenting.

For the record, my table did not have a tablecloth, so it was not stained.   

We had the leftovers the next day and found it was even better.  No more vinegar was needed; all the flavors had melded and balanced.  It was excellent.