From Argentina With Love

Prickly-Pear Cactus Fruit--Chumbo

When I finally decided to join the 21st century and get a facebook account, I used a photo of myself cutting Chumbo, or Prickly Pear Cactus Fruit, on my profile page.  A friend wrote on my wall "Can you eat that stuff?"  And the answer is, yes!  (by the way, there's a group for readers of From Argentina With Love--are you a member yet?)

My husband says that one of the best times of year growing up in Bowen was when the cactus would start to bear fruit.  Then the challenge was to find the chumbo  before the other kids in the neighborhood beat you to it.  My husband and his younger brother, Marcos, took their bicycles and, weaving along farm roads only navigable with an internal map, found places that had chumbo growing somewhere on the property.  They cut a few fruits off and took them home to savor, braving farms dogs and cactus spines to get them--a little-boy version of risking life and limb.

On our last visit, we were driving along one of those farm roads, when I saw a whole field of Prickly Pear Cactus, ripe, pink chumbo crowning the tops of the cacti.  A whole field of them, surreal--it looked like a flying saucer might land any second, with all those strange round paddles and bright pink fruits flying akimbo.

"Stop!! Chumbo!!" I shouted.  (Only I kept pronouncing it jumbo, to my husband's amusement!)

We had been on the look-out--I had heard enough good things about chumbo that, without a doubt, I had to try it as soon as possible.  In my head, its greatness had reached mythic proportions. Guillermo described it as kind of like a raspberry or kiwi flavor--a tart/sweet combination I knew I would love.

As pulled into the long drive of the farm, dogs barked and ran alongside our truck.  We got permission to cart away as many chumbo  as we could eat.  We waded through the knee-high grass and got eaten alive by Argentinean noseeums and stuck with spines (imagine the nagging I got about that!) to harvest chumbo so I could tell you about it here!

We took it home, where my mother-in-law removed the spines by moving the fruits around with a broom in a pile of leaves and dirt, before washing and peeling them.  The flesh inside was a shocking fuchsia color, amazingly bright and vivid.  And the flavor was...melony.  I think we got to them a little late in the season, these were full of big fleshy seeds, and not tart at all.  Just kind of mealy and flavorless.  Another week, and they would have turned in to flowers.

I was hoping to make a fabulous preserve out of them, and share the exotic 'cactus fruit/Chumbo Jam' recipe with you, but frankly, I was underwhelmed.  I wasn't too encouraged to eat them raw, much less make jam!  The great part of a blog is that you get to share your successes and defeats, and I've been defeated by chumbo.  Oh, well.  There's always next year!

Alfajores-Dulce de Leche Sandwich Cookie

An alfajor is two crisp buttery cookies held in a sandwich with (what else?) dulce de leche smeared in between.  They come in many costumes-dipped in chocolate, dipped in a white sugar coating, dusted in powdered sugar (like a fairy tale dessert, those are called alfajores de nieve-snowy alfajores), rolled in chopped nuts, (almonds or peanuts) or rolled in shredded coconut, so that all along the edges of the cookie, little bits of nuts or coconut cling to the dulce de leche that oozes out from between the two cookies.  Each way they are prepared just adds to how luscious they are-and Argentineans know it!  They eat alfajores like they have to get rid of them-with breakfast, as a snack, in the afternoon with piping hot espresso, or for dessert...no time is a bad time to eat an alfajor.

On my first date with Guillermo, we met at a downtown Denver bar for happy hour.  (Our second date was much more romantic, but that's a story for another day!)  In a little brown paper bag, I brought him the last two of my treasured Havanna alfajores (Havanna is a famous Argentinean cafe and alfajor-maker) that a friend brought me from a recent trip.  I suppose then it was obvious then that I already really liked this guy-otherwise, why would I ever part with such a treasure?

Havanna alfajores come individually wrapped in gold or silver foil (gold foil for chocolate dipped, silver foil for white dipped) which makes the recipient of said alfajores feel like a character from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory every time they open one-filled with hope and anticipation of the glories about to be beheld.  Plus, they come in a fancy box-making this dessert what it is-a very special treat.

Guillermo was thrilled when he opened the bag!  It had been a long time since he had seen anything from his home country and like most Argentineans, he loves alfajores.  Well, the hours passed, and we were so absorbed in conversation that he forgot the cookies when we left.  Some waiter at the bar likely tossed them in the trash, but maybe he decided to eat them...I've often wondered about the fate of those poor cookies!  Little did I know then that this type of forgetfulness is an annoying habit of Guillermo's-he is a scientist after-all, I call it the 'absent-minded scientist syndrome'.  Oh, but the things we forgive for love! 

I don't think he's probably had an alfajor in a really long time-maybe even since that first date-so I decided to surprise him with a batch, just to remind him.  (And of course, I had to share them with you!)  They really are as good as they look.  You can serve them any way you like-and, for that matter, any time you like, too!

To see more about the history of the alfajor, see the article I wrote for Argentina's Travel Guide.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Receta para Alfajores

Recipe for Alfajores (Carmel Sandwich Cookies)

This recipe for alfajores is adapted from the book, Argentina Cooks! by Shirley Lomax Brooks

1 3/4 cups flour

1/8 teapoon salt

1/2 cup sugar

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 pound butter (1 stick) at room temperature

1 teaspoon lemon zest (optional)

4 egg yolks, lightly beaten

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 recipe for dulce de leche (or one jar of it)

1 cup grated and sweetened coconut (optional)

* Rebecca's note:  I cannot stress enough the importance of quality butter in this recipe-it will make a big differnce in the flavor of the cookie.

Combine flour, salt, sugar and baking soda in a bowl.  Cut the butter in with two knives, then mix by hand until well incorporated.  Work in the lemon zest and then mix in the egg yolks and vanilla.  Shape the dough into 2 balls and chill for 2 hours.

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit.  On a floured work surface, roll out each ball of dough to a thickness of 1/4 inch.  Cut into 2-inch rounds and transfer to a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Bake for 15 minutes or until done.  The cookies will be dry but not brown. 

When the cookies are cool, spread a spoonful of dulce de leche in one cookie and top it with another.  Press together gently and roollthe seam of each snadwiched cookie in grated coconut. 

Empanada of the Month Round Up #1!

I am so proud of everyone who participated in From Argentina With Love's very first Empanada of the Month event!!  There are some fearless recipe makers out there in the blogosphere, some who are long time empanada makers, and others who had never made empanadas before and took the challenge.  And the results are simply mouth-watering!  They look delicious. Thank you for joining in and making this blog's first event a success!  So without further ado-here are the entries for Empanadas Mendocinas-Empanada of the Month #1!

Paz from The Cooking Adventures of Chef Paz created these beauties:

And although she was very doubtful of her empanada making skills-I think they look fantastic!  (I wanted to eat them right off my computer screen.)

Brilynn from Jumbo Empanadas made these lovelies:

With a name like that, how could you go wrong?  Brilynn posts about how her blog got it's name, and she even made the dough from scratch-I'm very impressed!

Sandy from Real Food for Real People made these tasty morsels:

Sandy's father was a chef from Buenos Aires-and she gives a great dough recipe in her post-check it out!

Layla from Laylita's Recipes made these delectable treats:

Originally from Ecuador, Layla has a whole category of her blog dedicated to empanadas!  She is one of those gals who does every recipe astoundingly well, and yet makes it look like it was nothing at all.  I am always amazed when I read her blog!

Nikki from Canary Girl made these mouth-watering bites:

She lives in the Canary Islands, where she has sampled the same type of empanadas at a local Italian restaurant run by Argentineans!  They look WONDERFUL, Nikki-thanks for joining us!!

I hope I didn't leave anybody out!  I know there were a few people who wanted to participate but weren't able to-if I left you out by mistake, please let me know and I'll add you in!!  If you didn't make it this month, I hope you'll participate in next month's Empanada of the Month Round Up-to be announced in the coming week.  Thanks!

Swiss Chard Tart-Tarta de Acelga

Chard is one of those vegetables.  You know the ones-if they were people, they'd be the teenagers off in a corner of the school yard by themselves, smoking cigarettes with a glare and acting like they don't care.  In the vegetable world, they're one of those things that you look at, knowing that it's probably really good, but you just don't know what to do with it.

Tarta, on the other hand, is president of the glee club-valedictorian, maybe even prom queen, never wears the same thing twice, and the type of person you'd really love to hate-if she weren't so gosh-darn nice!  No, tarta is easy to make, fast, and can be filled with just about any filling you care to use-basically your all-around goody two shoes.

I've posted about tarta before, it is a simple, quick meal that's high on flavor and low on effort.  Tarta describes a savory pie: some kind of filling between two pie-crust-type shells, and sealed using the twisted pattern called repulgue in Argentina.  (The video on my empanada post teaches you how to do it.)

Unless you grew up eating chard, or make an effort to find a recipe that uses it, you may forever be wondering what to do with the big dark leaves that find their way to markets in mid-summer and early fall.  (Chard grows easily and abundantly-it may grow out of control if allowed.  But see how tame it looks all wrapped up in a flaky crust?)

                                   Receta para Tarta de Acelga

                                  Recipe for Swiss Chard Tart

1 Tablespoon olive oil

1 small onion, chopped

2 eggs, hardboiled then peeled and sliced

2 large bunches of Swiss chard (white stems preferred if available)

1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese or queso cremoso

2 pie crust rounds-either your recipe for pie crust OR Pillsbury (or similar) pre-made Pie Crusts (or tapa para tarta)

salt to taste

pepper to taste

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.  Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium high heat and saute the onions until translucent.  Wash the chard very well (grit is common!) Remove the hard stems of the chard, and chop coarsely.  Add the chard to the onions with a couple tablespoons of water and a little salt, and cover, steaming until wilted.  Add the pepper and cheese and mix well.  Heat through until the cheese is melted.  Remove from heat and let cool slightly.  Drain off any liquid.

Put 1 pie crust onto a round (pizza) pan.  Put chard mixture onto the center of the pie crust.  Arrange  slices of  egg on top of chard mixture.  Cover with second pie crust round and seal the edge all the way around by twisting the dough, so that none of the filling seeps out during baking.

Bake until crust is golden brown, about 35-40 minutes.  Cut into wedges.  It can be served hot, cold, or at room temperature.

Pasta Frola-Shortbread with Quince Jelly Filling

"La Vida No Es una Pasta Frola"

-Alba Lampon, Contemporary Argentinean Sociologist

If there was ever a quote to sum up the Argentinean perspective, this would be it.  Loosely translated, it means "Life is not a piece of cake."   I think anyone would agree with that statement-it's what we do with it that matters.

Americans, eternal optimists as we are, grow up being taught that even when things are looking dismal, we should put our best face forward and act as if nothing is wrong.  We've all heard:  everything happens for a reason, there's a silver lining, life's a bowl of cherries...we keep smiling through the hard times, even with clenched  teeth.  The upside to this attitude-we believe in the possibility of our dreams, and that anything can happen.  In many instances this is true!

Argentineans, in contrast, tend to see the wine glass as half empty-life has socked them many hardships, and they've lived to tell about it.  This makes many Argentineans expert complainers-politics, the economy, money (the lack of it) the job market-Argentina is ripe fodder for a pessimist.  To say it another way, they are realists.  They don't expect things to be perfect, because that's just not the way life is.  It's hard, and that's no secret.

On that note, Argentineans are also experts at enjoying life.  They eat long lunches drinking wine and savoring their food, they take even longer naps, and surround themselves with family and friends.  Argentineans slow down, they take it all in.  No sense of urgency to get things done or  to accomplish a task,  as there is here  in the US.  "It" gets done when it gets done, and other things (like the aforementioned meals, naps and family) take priority.

One of the things that makes life worth living for an Argentinean is food.  Delicious, soul-satisfying food, eaten while taking a nice long while to taste it.  I say this from the viewpoint of someone who will admit to having scarfed down food purchased at a drive thru window while driving maniacally to get something done.  Life may not be a pasta frola, so with all the arrows it shoots our way, isn't it better to slow down and enjoy?!

                                              

                                                Receta por Pasta Frola (de Florencia)

                                             Recipe for Pasta Frola (from Florencia)

Pasta Frola is, like many classic Argentinean recipes, Italian in origin.  In Italy, the short-bread like dough (pasta frolla) is used in a variety of cakes and cookies; in Argentina it refers specifically to a cake with this crust, filled with quince jam or quince paste.  (It can also be made using sweet-potato jam or your jam of choice.)  Pasta Frola can be found in upscale bakeries and in everyone's mother's kitchen.  It's universal, and part of it's beauty is its absolute simplicity.  It's easy and fast, made with ingredients on hand at any time.  Pardon the pun, but it's a piece of cake to make.  (This one is my mother-in-law's recipe.)

1 cup flour

1/2 cup sugar

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 stick butter, softened

1 egg

2-3 tablespoons of milk

quince paste or quince jam (or the jam of your choice)

Pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.  Butter and flour your pan-this recipe makes enough for a small square or rectangular pan, though the photos show small ramekins, which is also fine. 

Mix together the flour, sugar, baking soda and baking powder.  Cut the butter in, mixing between your fingers to incorporate the flour mixture and the butter.  Keep mixing until it's uniform and resembles coarse sand.

Add the egg and 2 tablespoons of the milk and mix together until you get a ball of dough that is uniform.  It should not be too dry (crumbling apart) and should not be sticky.

Roll out the dough onto a floured surface. The dough should be about half an inch think.  Cut the dough and put it in to the pan.  It should cover the bottom and go up on the sides only a little bit.  Pat the dough down around the edges with the back of your fingers. 

Take a few spoonfuls of quince jam and spread it over the dough in the pan.  I have found that it's easier to mash the jam in a bowl with a fork so that it's easier to spread.  Also, if using quince paste, you may need to add some warm water to soften the paste texture. 

Roll out the dough scraps and cut into strips with a pastry cutter or knife.  Lay across the top of the jam and dough in a lattice (criss-cross) pattern.

Pop into the oven for a very short time-only about 20 minutes.  It should be slightly browned on the top. 

Tarta de Choclo-Corn Tart

  Buenos Aires, 1905--Tango is the underground dance of bordellos and seedy nightclubs.  While members of Argentina's Creole upper class dine out to the tune of an orchestra, tango's popularity is on the rise in the streets.  Angel Villoldo composes his best tango yet, telling his friend, pianist Jose Luis Roncallo, that he wants to play the song that night for the ritzy clientele at the restaurant where Roncallo and his orchestra play.  Roncallo balks at the idea-play a tango for the elite crowd at the exclusive Restaurante Americano?  Never.  But, being the friend that he is, and finding the tune so compelling, Roncallo and his orchestra decide to play the song anyway, disguising it as a "danza Criolla"-a Creole dance.  The rest, as they say, is history-the song became wildly popular and a classic was born.

And the name of the tune?  El Choclo-the ear of corn.  Villoldo, who loved his song "...from the very first note" also found the ear of corn to be the tastiest ingredient in a meat and vegetable stew called puchero.  To earn a living was commonly referred to as 'earning the puchero', (the reference here being that writing this tango was the 'tastiest' way to earn a living) and Villoldo hoped the song would bring him success and help him earn a living, hence bestowing this odd name on the song. 

Choclo is also the main ingredient in tarta de choclo, a tart filled with corn.  It's meant to be sweet rather than savory, though not as sweet as a dessert filling would be. This filling can also be used as a filling in empanadas.  It's a very simple dish, which would be great as a starter or a side, or a simple dinner with a salad, bread and a bottle of red wine.  This is how I make tarta 'El Choclo':

Open a bottle of wine.  Put on a Tango CD and put volume up.  While making the tarta, banish winter (or anytime!) blues by dancing the tango in the kitchen-alone, with baby, or with husband (who may be unavailable due to long work hours, baby bath time duties, or general aversion to dance steps).  Drink wine in between tango steps and wait for the tarta to come out of the oven.

                                        Receta por Tarta de Choclos

                                                Recipe for Corn Tart

1 Tablespoons butter

1 small onion, chopped

2 eggs, hardboiled then peeled and chopped

2 ears of corn OR 1 can of creamed sweet corn

1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese

2 pie crust rounds-either your recipe for pie crust OR Pillsbury pre-made Pie Crusts

1 teaspoon sugar

pepper to taste

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.  Heat the butter in a skillet over medium high heat and saute the onions until translucent.  Add the corn, either the canned creamed sweet corn or 2 ears, boiled until tender, kernels cut off, and mixed in with onion with a few tablespoons of milk and a spoonful of cornstarch to thicken.  Add the sugar, pepper and cheese. Heat through until the cheese is melted.  Remove form heat and let cool slightly.

Put 1 pie crust onto a round pan.  Put corn mixture onto the center of the pie crust.  Sprinkle with chopped egg pieces.  Cover with second pie crust round and seal the edge all the way around by twisting the dough, so that none of the filling seeps out during baking.

Bake until crust is golden brown, about 35-40 minutes.  Cut into wedges, it can be served hot, cold, or at room temperature.

Not Your Grandma's Palmeritas

Guillermo couldn't contain the excitement in his voice when he called his friend Walter and proclaimed:  "Che!  Loco!  Oh my God!  You're never going to believe what Rebe made!! It's like grandma's house over here!"

Oh, if only everything I cooked received such a reaction. 

The thing he was so excited about were palmeritas, those flaky, sweet, ear-shaped cookies that are made out of puff pastry. 

When Guillermo was  a boy, his father took over the family farm.  They lived far out of town, and only moved closer years later so that the boys could attend high school. 

Each month, his grandmother (with whom they lived) would take Guillermo and his brother, Marcos, into town with her to get her pension money from the bank, and she would treat them to a palmerita  at a local bakery.  Like most farm wives, she was a spend-thrift type of woman, and didn't waste her money on useless things.  She didn't generally buy the boys anything, but the one thing they could look forward to on that once monthly outing was a palmerita after going to the bank.  (I guess everyone, like Proust, has their personal Madeleine.)

I was surprised to find out how easy these cookies are to make-using only pre-made puff pastry and sugar! (So don't go getting all impressed, here!)

I got this recipe from Ina Garten's Cookbook, Barefoot In Paris. 

                                                          

                                                                       Recipe for Palmeritas

2 sheets Pepperidge farm Puff Pastry (left to defrost overnight in the refrigerator so it's pliable but cold)

2 cups sugar

1/8 teaspoon kosher salt

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. 

Combine the sugar and the kosher salt.  Pour 1 cup of the sugar on a flat surface such as a wooden board or a marble slab.  Unfold the first sheet of puff pastry onto the sugar and pour 1/2 cup of the sugar mixture on top, spreading it evenly on the puff pastry.  This is not about sprinkling, this is about an even covering of sugar. 

With a rolling pin, lightly roll the dough until it's a 13 inch square and the sugar is pressed into the puff pastry on the top and bottom.  Fold the sides of the square towards the center so they go halfway to the middle of the dough.  Fold them again so the two folds meet exactly at the middle of the dough.  Then fold one half over the other half as though closing a book.  You will have six layers. 

Slice the dough into 3/8-inch slices and place the slices, cut side up, on  baking sheets lined with parchment paper.  Place the second sheet of pastry on the sugared board, sprinkle with the remaining 1/2 cup of sugar mixture, and continue as above.  (There will be quite a bit of sugar left on the board.)  Slice and arrange on baking sheets lined with parchment. 

Bake the cookies for 6 minutes, or until caramelized and brown on the bottom, then turn with a spatula and bake for another 3 to 5 minutes, until caramelized on the other side.  Transfer to a baking rack to cool.

The Truck Driver's Wife's Eggplant

It was my first trip to Argentina.  Guillermo and I were leaving his parents house to spend the weekend in the city of Mendoza.  We were going to do a wine tour of several wineries, go to a natural hot springs with a day spa, and shop for my engagement ring!  A weekend of romantic bliss...unfortunately, we didn't make it.  (Though we did later buy my engagement ring, for those of you worried about that!)

On the three hour drive from my husband's family's house in Bowen, there is a long, lonely road.  It's a two lane highway,  cars occasionally passing each other going in opposite directions, punctuated by a town or two every so often.  The landscape is dry and dusty, reminiscent of the American Southwest-lots of sagebrush, tumbleweed, tough-skinned lizards running to and fro across the highway; nothing for miles around but open space.  And buzzards. 

We were in Guillermo's dad's truck.  Two greedy buzzards sat in the road, eating the remains of a slowpoke lizard, there was a semi truck approaching  in the opposite direction in the other lane.  As we came speeding along, the two massive birds lifted to fly away, and one was headed directly toward our windshield. 

To avoid it, as its huge wingspan would have caused the bird to come directly through the glass, Guillermo swerved and started heading off the road, clipping the gravelly shoulder.  Then he over-corrected, back onto the road, and directly into the path of the oncoming semi.

Guillermo swerved out of the way just in time.

And then the semi hit us, took off half of the back of the truck , and sent us off the road into the bushes.  This is what I was thinking at the time: What the #&$!! is he doing?  OHGODOHGODOHGOD!!!  I'm going to die! ... and then...My mother is going to kill me for dying in South America!, and then...I think I'm going to throw up. 

Guillermo got out of the car, and the semi-truck driver did, too, all of us without a single scratch, and me thinking there must be a reason behind THAT.  It was the nearest miss I've ever had or will ever  have again. (You don't walk away from something like that twice.)

So we're out in the middle of nowhere.  Guillermo, the truck driver and I.  No cell phone service, no town or police station for miles. 

We waited for about an hour, a passing car said he would tell the police in the next town to head our way.  And my husband and the truck driver SAT DOWN TOGETHER AND DRANK A MATE.  Okay... I have never had an experience like that with a person with whom I have just  been involved in a car accident.  Instead, a fender bender involves people getting out of their car, screaming obscenities, threats, etc., etc.  But they sat down and drank tea together.  Only in Argentina.

And right about now you're probably thinking-so what does this have to do with eggplant?

We ended up driving with the bumper in the back of the truck to the nearest town, Ñaquñan (if you haven't heard of it, don't worry) to make a report at the police station.  By now it's been almost 3 hours, and we didn't bring any lunch, since by then we were supposed to have been at a sidewalk cafe in Mendoza, sipping wine and eating a great meal.  Ñaquñan has no restaurants, no cafes, even a gas station or a grocery store.  It does have a bus stop and a community center.  And a bunch of stray dogs.  We did find a place that sold packaged cookies, so I sat there with this very friendly stray pup that we nicknamed Ñaqu, eating cookies. 

And the truck driver says, "Do you want something else to eat?"  And proceeds to take a cooler out of his rig, filled with ham sandwiches on thin white bread, chard-filled calzones, and a container of marinated eggplant. Each thing was better than the last.  I was like a castaway starving on a deserted island who has just come across a treasure chest full of food.  I felt guilty taking his lunch, but it seemed he sincerely wanted me to have it, and since he would now have to make a stop instead of going along his regular route, I agreed. 

The eggplant was the best thing I had ever tasted.  Maybe it was just because I was so hungry, but they really were incredible!  Long, thin slices of  purple eggplant, marinated in a mixture of oil and vinegar, herbs, garlic, and a hint of crushed red pepper.  Simple and delicious! 

Later, when I was trying to explain the eggplant to my mother in law, she said "Oh, yeah, berenjenas en escabeche-marinated eggplant!"  As in, it's very common in Argentina, pretty everyday and everyone can make it.  And she gave me the recipe, which I have adapted for you here.  So this isn't the actual Truck Driver's Wife's Recipe, but every time I make this dish, I'm reminded of that day.

                                                 Receta por Berenjenas en Escabeche

                                                         Marinated Eggplant Recipe

2 medium sized eggplants, washed

coarse salt

1 cup vinegar (red wine or white)

1/2 cup water

1/4 cup olive oil

1/4 cup vegetable or canola oil

1 T. dried parsley

1T. dried oregano

2 cloves crushed garlic

crushed red pepper to taste

salt to taste

Trim the ends off the eggplant. Cut in in half lengthwise, and then lay it flat side down and cut into 1/4  to 1/2 inch slices.  Put the slices layer upon layer in a roasting pan.  Salt each layer with coarse salt and let sit for 2 hours.  (The salt draws out the bitterness and moisture from the eggplant.)  After two hours, drain and rinse the eggplant.  Put the eggplant, the vinegar and the water in a  stock pot and bring to a boil.  Lower the heat to a simmer and cook the eggplant until it takes on a translucent look, about 35 minutes.  Meanwhile, combine the remaining ingredients in a bowl.  When the eggplant has cooked through, drain off half of the vinegar/water and put the rest, along with the eggplant, in the bowl with the oil mixture.  Mix well.  Refrigerate until cold.  Eat within the week, this dish is not recommended for canning.  Makes a great side dish, appetizer or potluck dish.

Dulce de Tomate- Sweet Tomato Jam

Argentineans have different taste buds than Americans do.  I'm not making this up.  They take everyday ingredients and combine them in a way that just seems, well...wierd to most Americans.  Case in point-Dulce de Tomate -Tomato Jam.  The first time I heard about a tomato based jam, I thought I had misunderstood the person-a sweet jelly?  Made from tomatoes?  Like, for breakfast?  And then I  thought, but what does it taste like?  V-8 on toast? I couldn't even imagine.

Dulce de Tomate is classic Argentinean comfort food, known by all, loved by most, and one of those things everyone's mom has a recipe for.  As adults, Argentineans sigh wistfully at the thought of Dulce de Tomate, whisked back to those childhood days of Tomato Jam on toasted bread.

My mother-in-law  encouraged me to smuggle a jar of it back home on my last trip there, (which I gratefully did) so I could bring a jar of home made comfort to my husband .  And I was curious to try this notorious Tomato Jam for myself. 

Dulce de Tomate is not savory, as tomato sauce is, but sweet, as any other jam, but with a hint of tomato.  (Maybe it's the pound and a half of sugar that takes the edge off ...) All sarcasm aside, I can see this being really great on crackers or toast with a cheese course, accompanied by a nice dry Cava or Persecco.  It 'd be something to balance out the sharpness of the harder cheeses, but not sweet enough to throw your palate off completely.

                                 Florencia's Dulce de Tomate (Tomato Jam) Recipe

This recipe is my mother in law's.  It's the middle of the harvest season there, and she just sent me a series of photos of the stages of making Dulce de Tomate, so stay tuned!  This recipe can be scaled down so that it makes a few jars only, which can be kept in the refrigerator for about a week.  If you have the tools to can the jam so that the jars are properly sealed,  this makes one small batch.

6-7  lbs. (3 kilos) fresh tomatoes

6 cups  (1 and 1/2 kilos) sugar

2 cups (1/2 liter) water

Wash the tomatoes and bring a large pot of water to a boil.  When the water is boiling, submerge the tomatoes for a few seconds to scald them and remove to a bowl of cold water to stop the tomaotes from cooking.  Peel them, cut in half and remove seeds.  Weigh them-for every 6 pounds of tomato pulp, you'll need 6 cups sugar and 2 cups water.

Put the water and sugar in a pot on the stove top.  Stir over medium heat until the sugar has dissolved in the water, making a syrup.  Bring the syrup to a boil, add the 6 lbs. tomatoes, and cook for 15-20 minutes, lowering the heat to a simmer. Be sure to watch the pot so that it doesn't boil over-it gets foamy!  The foam can be skimmed off the top.  After 20 minutes, turn the stove off and let the mixture sit for a few hours.

After a few hours, re-heat, stirring continuously with a wooden spoon, taking care that it doesn't stick or burn.  Bring it to a boil,  then lower the heat and let cook for 1-2 hours, stirring periodically.  After this time, the tomatoes should have a shininess and transparent look.  Stir and taste for sugar, adding more if necessary for your taste.  Let cook a little bit and then put into jars or follow the canning procedure for your canning set according to manufacturer's instructions.

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.