Hiatus

As a result of some scheduling issues, there will be no new blogs until May 28th (date subject to change). 

Throwback Thursday: Toast at Grandma's

This morning started out earlier than normal with a kiddo climbing into bed with me because of a bad dream. And then said kiddo proceeded to ask me if it was time for breakfast yet. . . . finally, I relented and got up.

When we made our way to the kitchen, I asked what was for breakfast. The reply, "toast." I congratulated myself because I had obviously come across as a woman who requested a no-hassle breakfast request. 

And as I put the bread in the toaster I was suddenly reminded of my grandmother. A morning, as I recall, that my sister and I were at her house when my parents went out of town (which happened like once in my childhood). I was maybe four years old. I woke up, got dressed and cleaned up, and went into the kitchen. Now, in my kitchen, walk in and make yourself some coffee (which I don't drink), tea (which I sometimes drink), or breakfast (which I usually don't make or eat), but in my grandmother's kitchen, you just didn't walk in and do anything.

Me, about three, on swing set

So she was tending to my breakfast. She might have asked me what I wanted (I was one of her favorites) or it's entirely possible that she  decided what I was going to eat. She had already decided what I was going to drink, café (coffee). OH yes, my grandmother was that grandmother--the one who doesn't listen when the mother asks to please refrain from serving her child coffee and the like. Yeah, my grandmother pretty well did what she wanted, especially in her own kitchen. 

This morning I was having toast. I recall sitting at the table (covered in plastic, by the way) with my sister as I waited for my bread to toast. It was bright in the kitchen; the sunlight was streaming in through the window above the sink and the window over by the stove, and the back door was open. And then in a flash, the toaster buzzed and out shot the toast. I don't mean a little bit, but literally flew in the air as if it had been shot from a rocket. It was the craziest thing and scared us silly. But we all had a good chuckle about it.

And so when I pushed the lever down on the toaster this morning, I couldn't but help smile a just little at the memory of toast at my grandmother's house. . . . 

¡Hasta la proxíma vez!

Wordless Wednesday

This muñeca (doll) is one of the many kinds of dolls I remember from my earliest trips into Mexico (at that point, only Matamoros) when I was a child. The dolls are so simple, and yet they are played with for hours.

Salsa Verde: Recipe

After Sunday night's meal, I had some leftover chicken, just enough to make chicken tacos. But no chicken taco (or lots of other food) is complete without some salsa verde (green salsa). So I decided to whip up a batch.

Salsa Verde

salsa verde ingredients

2 lbs tomatillos
3 garlic cloves
1/2 cup cilantro
1/2 cup onion
4 serrano peppers
1/8 cup lime juice



First, tomatillos are not the same thing as green tomatoes. So be sure that you are buying tomatillos. Usually you can tell that they are tomatillos and not tomatoes because they are wrapped in a husk and are usually smaller, especially this time of the season.

tomatillos

This recipe calls for the ingredients to be broiled (roasted), so turn on the oven to broil while you're preparing the ingredients. Now it's time to work on the tomatillos. The first step is to take the husks off of the tomatillos and rinse the tomatillo well with water. They will be sticky and may even have dirt on them, so be sure to rinse them well. Then cut the tops off and cut them in half (if they're larger size).

peeling the tomatillo

Next separate and cut into pieces 3 cloves of garlic; halve the 4 serrano peppers (deseeding some if desired); and cut into pieces the 1/2 cup of onion. Then arrange them all on a foil-lined cookie sheet.

ready to roast

Place the cookie sheet under the broiler (or in the oven) and broil until the tomatillos are charred, soft, and clear juice is running from them. The other ingredients will char, too, but will have a good roasted flavor to them. Depending on the size of your tomatillos, this can take anywhere from 5 minutes to 15 minutes. But I would advise that you remain vigilant to get the charring you want and not burn it all.

roasted

ingredients in blender

From this point, the salsa is almost made. Place all the tomatillos, onion, garlic, and cilantro into a blender. Add about 1/2 teaspoon of salt. Add three halves of the serrano peppers and blend well. Add the lime juice and then add more serrano peppers to desired potency. Blend well. When it is all blended, pour into a refrigerator safe bowl to allow to cool. 

salsa ready to be cooled.

For this batch of salsa: I deseeded three halves of the serranos I had, because I wanted their roasted flavor without the heat. So in the end, I used all but one half of the serrano pepper, which was still seeded. When you first taste the salsa I made, you taste the lime but by the end of the bite you have the wallop of the serranos.

As I said, I had leftover chicken so I put my salsa verde on chicken tacos, complete with avocado, cilantro, and queso fresco. It can be used on a variety of dishes, including huevos (eggs) and chilaquiles or migas or just as a stand-alone to eat with chips. The salsa will keep for up to about a week in the refrigerator but does lose its potency the older it gets. A quick side note, although this may look like the sauce that is used in green enchiladas, it is not quite the same recipe.

chicken tacos with salsa verde

¡Hasta la proxíma vez!

Throwback Thursday: Kick-Start

The week's gone by much faster than expected, and it caught up with me this morning when it occurred to me that I forgot to pull the roast out of the freezer yesterday so that I could cook it today. Now I will have to improvise the dinner meal. . . . 

This sort of thing never happened to my grandmother. She woke when the rooster crowed in the morning. I'm serious, although I don't know if it was her chickens that woke her. I do think that when I was older that it was the neighbor's chickens that woke me when we'd visit. 

But she just got up and got going and got breakfast started. And most of the time a pot of beans for lunch (and dinner) was already on the stove while she was making breakfast. I don't know how she did that day in and day out. Albeit, probably less so when I was older and her children were all out of the house.

Even so, I've got five less children than she did and I can't remember to pull the roast from the freezer for one meal, let alone get up early enough to have breakfast ready for the hubby and children before they're off to work and school. Let alone have something started for lunch by the time the clean up for breakfast is all done.

Oh and she cooked all three meals, too, every day. I've said it before and I'll say it again . . . I am better fitted for life now than for life then. Truthfully, she didn't know another way; no one did because there wasn't another way.

Maybe it was simpler then, easier, in a way. I mean it was a long way from the dirt floors she used to sweep as a child. Still I sometimes wonder what she'd think of my life and how much things have changed. For example, how the carne picada I made this week wasn't the full cut of meat minced with a machete like she used to make or how I managed to forget to defrost the meat I'd planned to feed my family this evening. And how I most definitely do not wake up at the crack of dawn and just get started like she used to.

She wasn't all work; I remember going to her house for lunch and Days of Our Lives was on the TV at the noon hour or how she'd sit and watch Dallas on Friday nights. She'd visit over the fence line with her neighbor and get the neighborhood gossip or how she'd always have "napoleon" ice cream in her deep freezer by the window, which I was sure was just for me.

I know it's not always that simple, the differences between her world and mine, and that she had good days and bad days like I do. . . . And mostly, I think, I'm just thankful that there's not a rooster around to kick-start my days.

¡Hasta la proxíma vez!

Wordless Wednesday

Changing my MO for Wordless Wednesday and adding words. I know, it really defeats the wordless aspect of the whole thing, and truly I'm kicking myself for it but I just can't stop.

These are jarritos . . . different than last week's jarritos but related all the same. These are made of clay (guanaclay) and are considered mini-decor items (see the holes in the platos [plates], you can run a string or ribbon through and hang all the pieces as decor). 

However, as a child I used to put agua (water) in them and play "restaurant" or pretend to cook and serve my siblings. And now that is what my children do with them, although they have not gotten to the point where they put agua in them yet. It will come to them, I'm sure.

And these jarritos, which literally translates to "little jugs," are related to the carbonated beverage Jarrito (from last week's truly Wordless Wednesday) because the soft drink was named Jarrito in reference to the tradition of drinking agua and aguas frescas (fruit-flavored water) from clay pots to keep them cooler longer. 

Picadillo (Carne picada con papas): Receta

This is a fairly easy recipe and is good to eat, too. Around here you can even buy it in a burrito from many of the local quick-stop burrito places. Because this was only for a lunch meal and just for two people, I did not make a lot, so bear mind you may have to double the recipe.

Picadillo (Carne picada con papas)

ingredients for picadillo

1 pound ground sirloin
1 medium potato
1/2 medium salad tomato
1/2 medium bell pepper
1/8 cup onion
1/8 cup cilantro
1/3 can tomato sauce
1 1/2 tsp Mixed Spice
1 clove of garlic


Begin by add mixed spice, clove of garlic, and enough water to get spices wet in your molcajete and grinding it down, until it looks something like this:

ground spices

Then cut up the half of the tomato and bell pepper and the little bit of onion and cilantro:

vegetables (note: cilantro not pictured)

Next, peel the potato and cut it up. For years I would cut it into pieces the way the tomato and bell pepper are done. However, after a discussion with my mother I remembered that she used to do it in slices, so I thought I'd give that a go this time. I much prefer it this way because as the potato cooks it breaks into pieces.

potato, sliced

It is time to start cooking. Place ground sirloin in a 10- or 12-inch skillet and brown it, cooking it thoroughly on medium heat. 

ground sirloin, cooked

I usually cook it down until most of the liquid (water, grease) is gone and it's almost dry. Now, add tomato, bell pepper, onion, and cilantro to the ground beef and stir, letting it cook for just a minute.

Top, add vegetables; bottom, vegetables mixed in

Add the ground spices by tilting molcajete over the pan, and pouring 1 cup of water over them so that they slide into the pan. Stir spices in, adding about 1 teaspoon of salt (or to taste) as well. Then place the potatoes on top of the mixture and add another 1/2 to 1 cup of water. The water does not have to cover the potatoes, just enough that it covers the meat. And if you have tomato sauce on hand, use about a 1/3 of a small can to give it some more color.

potatoes on top

When it starts to boil, turn down the heat to low and cover with a lid. Cook it down for 30 minutes; stirring occasionally (this is when the potato slices will break into pieces). When you are done, your picadillo will look something like this:

picadillo, done

This picture was taken immediately after I took the lid off after 30 minutes; you can continue to cook it down for a few more minutes until more of the liquid is gone. I actually let me sit covered for about 30 minutes before I served it and much more of the liquid had been absorbed. 

picadillo

As a note my mother says that you're not supposed to serve picadillo with rice because it already has potatoes in it; however, I love to mix it with rice all the same. So I usually fix a small batch of rice to go with it. It is served with refried beans and we usually have flour tortillas with it; however, my mother has now said that corn tortillas with every dish is how she grew up. But I distinctly remember her serving us flour tortillas with this dish, and so that is how I serve it.

Let me know if you try this recipe out and how it works for you or if you have any variations on it (like peas or carrots in the picadillo).

¡Hasta la proxíma vez!