From Argentina With Love

Torta Española-a Potato Omelet

 

Torta Española means Spanish Torte, but it’s also known as Torta de Papas (Potato Torte) or Tortilla de Papas (Potato Tortilla).   Thin slices of potato are fried in olive oil with onions and spices until they are just browned around the edges, and then eggs are added, making a gratin or omelet. While these are cooking, a delicious aroma starts to fill the kitchen-the soothing smell of simple home cooking. Layers of potato and onion are nestled into the egg, and the whole omelet is flipped to cook the top and further combine the flavors. The special combination of these every-day ingredients elevate this rustic dish, making it the ultimate comfort food.  In a way, I think of it as famine food, the few things you have on hand at the end of the week before the trip to the store--onion, potato and egg are always available.  But brought to the table, the lack dissipates-it relies on its simplicity to impress, it needs no showy ingredient to be outstanding. Michelle at the Greedy Gourmet is hosting a new event in the food blogosphere, called Snackshots. The first one is all about potatoes, and I am entering this humble and savory omelet to this event. Thanks, Michelle!

 

Torta Española is a typical dish in Argentina, originally from Spain (hence the name). My mother says her Italian aunt, Millie, made it;  and the French also have a version.  So Torta Española in one form or other is well-know throughout the regions of Spain, Italy, Franc and Portugal. This recipe’s versatile enough that it can be eaten any time of day and with anything.  Potato and egg are great as breakfast, or brunch.  It makes a nice lunch or picnic dish and can be eaten as an appetizer or as a side dish at dinner.

This was one of the first things my husband made for me when we were dating, after he called his mom to get the recipe.  Here it is:

 

Torta Española Recipe

1 onion, chopped

2-3 potatoes
2 cloves garlic

fresh or dried parsley, to taste

salt and pepper, to taste

olive oil

4 eggs, lightly beaten

Peel and cut the potatoes into slices (about ¼ inch each) Dry the potatoes with paper towels. Put olive oil in a medium frying pan over medium heat. Add the onion, garlic and the potatoes, and cook until the onion is clear and the potatoes are browning around the edges.  Add in salt, parsley and pepper and mix well. Remove the onion and potato mixture and re-oil the pan.  Return the mixture to the pan and arrange the potatoes in an even ‘layer’ around the pan.  Add the eggs, and continue to cook until the omelet sets.  When one side is cooked, cover the frying pan with a plate and carefully flip the pan over, removing the omelet from the pan.  Return the omelet to the pan with the unfinished side down and cook for three to five minutes, or until done.  Remove to a plate and cut into wedges or squares. The end result should be a tortilla that’s about 2 inches thick. It can also be decorated with Spanish olives or slices of roasted or fresh red pepper.

Don’t be discouraged if your tortilla falls apart when you try to turn it, it takes practice, and it still tastes great broken, too.

 

Introduction to Bowen

Bowen is where the dust has settled.  Bowen is a dirt road; goats grazing in an empty lot.  It’s the sharp tang of grapes being crushed into wine all night long during the harvest season, and the dusky burnt-sweet smell of the quince paste factory.  It’s the sound of dogs barking as they roam free in the streets, looking for scraps; the sound of roosters crowing before dawn breaks.  It’s the smell of diesel, its accompanist a roaring mufflerless truck overloaded with cargo headed to Buenos Aires.  It’s fresh starlit nights and blazing hot afternoons.  Bowen is the feel of cool tile and stucco walls, and the smell of oiled wood.  It’s the delicate fragility of the blooms on the almond trees in the springtime, and the robust Malbec grapes harvested in the fall. It’s the smoke from a cigarette drifting off the man driving a donkey cart, it’s old men in wool caps playing Bocce ball on a Friday night.  But mostly, Bowen is flavors –tomatoes canned in my mother-in-law’s kitchen, wild asparagus cut out of muddy fields, peaches eaten from branches heavy with ripe fruit, and strong homemade wine that makes you look at the moon and fall just a little bit more in love.

Argentina is a country of contrasts.  Long and vast, it still has pockets of untamed land roamed by gauchos on horseback, their dogs faithfully following behind.  It has the tropical heat of the north, and then there are the penguins on the Antarctic coasts of the south.  It’s boundaries are defined by the Andes mountain range on the west and the Atlantic coast in the east.  Despite its extremes, Argentina is held together by a common fabric of culture- a weave of family and a weft of cuisine. 

 

Argentina’s cuisine has been shaped by regional differences; for indeed an empanada in Tucumán is different from one in Buenos Aires.  The country’s tumultuous political history, too, has had a hand in forming the way the country eats. It’s a story of conquest, invasion, dictatorship, immigration, instability, and revolt.  If Americans are boundlessly optimistic about the future, Argentineans live in the present, for tomorrow’s potential adversity is best left unknown.  As a people, they are often skeptical, especially of political pledges, hardened by lives of unfulfilled promises.  One only needs to read the famed comic strip Mafalda to understand the Argentinean mentality-the fact that a child delivers such wry observations with a bleak optimism softens the blow only slightly.  Pessimism is a national pastime. 

For this reason, the family table is the constant in the Argentinean home.  Home cooking offers a stability not found in the outside world.  Simple ingredients offer comfort, a buffer from the hostility of the daily grind.

Understanding Argentina’s history is like biting into a pastelito de dulce--one of the country’s iconic national desserts-complex layer upon layer of brittle pastry with a sticky center.  Each conquest has brought with it gastronomic transformation, mixed until the alchemy of a national cuisine was formed.  Food is history.  Food is memory.  The Spanish conquest brought its cuisine, while the native foods of the New World-tomatoes, squash, corn, beans-were incorporated into new recipes.  Arabs, Russians, Ukrainians, Italians, Germans, Poles-all have brought their distinct culinary traditions with them to Argentina.  It’s cuisine is a slowly simmering stew-a true melting pot.

Much of Argentina’s food is straightforward, fresh, and homemade.  In Bowen, much of it is home-grown, and within my husband’s immediate family we have plums, peaches, tomatoes, greens, pigs, lemons, olives, quince, apples, pomegranate, goat cheese, and honey, and I’m probably forgetting something.  The key to the most delicious recipes is the quality of the ingredients-those so fresh and singular that they support the plate without it being overly complicated.  Most recipes are dependent on the availability of a few fresh, basic ingredients.  Unpretentious and simple, it’s luxurious in the way it is eaten-with great pleasure, family-style, everyone around talking and drinking wine, and followed by a delicious nap.  Their food culture is more about the tradition of family and communion.

Argentineans take pride in making their own, and everyone’s home cooking is a little different. Like any home cooking, there are many variations on the same theme and no hard and fast rules. Most of the recipes on this site will be my mother-in-law’s, and I welcome any and all suggestions and/or variations that come my way.  That being said, I realize that my particular experience, that of rural Argentina, will be just that—my experience in rural Argentina.  I know that those who live in Buenos Aires or any other place will have a totally different take on Argentina and it’s people.  I hope you enjoy.

About this Blog

In 2005, I met the man who is now my husband.  Later that year, he brought me home to meet his parents--in Argentina.  And so began my love affair with this country and its people, its traditions and cuisine.  As any great love affair, it's had its ups and downs--embracing a new culture and taking in all the beautiful things about it, while trying to tolerate and make sense of the stuff I can't understand.  The purpose of this blog is to share some of my incredible, often hilarious, and sometimes heartbreaking experiences with the world. Naturally, many of these experiences center around food--since food and memory are so intertwined.  Argentine food is food that piques the senses, that fills not just a void in the gut but the void in the soul, too.  Many of the recipes were once new and unusual to me, but have become such a part of who I am that I just long for the next time I eat them--in

Argentina, at my in-laws' table.  My hope for this site is that it will enable readers explore Argentina, plate by plate, to  learn about Argentinean culture and the Mendoza region, and to see through my  eyes the food and scenes of daily life that I have experienced there.