I’ve been working on our patio for a few months now trying to make it more functional and enjoyable.  It’s a narrow area that wraps along two sides of our house and much different than the half-acre of hillside we tended at our former house.  At first, the idea of having so much less to manage outside was attractive because we were busy with our jobs and moving closer to the ocean and a beautiful seaside community that would inspire us to get out more and enjoy weekends full of sun and fun.  But I’m a gardener — I always have been.  And as much as the weather is often quite gorgeous here, I’m content to spend time outside digging in the dirt.  Unfortunately, that hasn’t been very easy for the past few years.

A former owner had planters installed on the patio and made less than smart choices about what was planted in them, so now, several are completely root bound.  Old flagstone capping has loosened from the planter walls, much of it cracked or broken completely.  The fence, although beloved by my cats for its great scratching post qualities, was more a termite high rise.  Tearing it down took little thought.

I’ve always kept pots of annuals and herbs, and for the first time two years ago, began growing tomatoes in pots.  About a year ago, I put together a small herb box as well.  This year, one of the tomato pots has become a salad greens pot.  It may not seem like much, but I can tell you the snails would be quite upset if I ever got rid of the little herb box.  And this year, they’ve truly enjoyed picking out all but one variety of salad green from the new pot.  Who knew snails had such discriminating palates — erm — radula?

Even though my patio is small by suburban yard standards here, I could squeeze the few things I enjoy harvesting in an even smaller space such as a balcony if I had to.  In other words, it doesn’t take much to grow a few of your own veggies and or herbs.  I’d enjoy planting even more among the roses and succulents I’m currently planting in the newly filled, capped, and painted planters, but until those plants are established, adding anything edible to them isn’t advisable and may never be.  Hence, the pots I have are a great idea because I can move them around according to the seasons and sunlight.

My tomato plants are sporting grape-sized fruit, but the idea frying tiny green tomatoes isn’t as appealing to me as plucking some of the salad greens, a few leaves of the perennial bloody sorrel that continues to thrive, some wild arugula, and purple basil.

Perfect for a wrap with a bit of left over chicken and, if the patio was finished, a nice lunch outside with a good book.  All in due time.

Are you a gardener?  Do you have an outside space to relax in when the weather is pleasant?

Chicken Wrap with Spicy Greens

wraps or flour tortillas

2-3 oz. chicken per wrap, cooked

smashed green olives

red onions, thinly sliced

feta

sun-dried tomatoes

extra virgin olive oil

fresh lemon juice

honey mustard Dijon

arugula

sorrel

purple basil

salt and pepper to taste

Spread the mustard over the wrap.  Toss the greens in a bit of olive oil and squirt of fresh lemon juice.  Lightly season with salt and pepper.  Place a good hand full of the greens on the wrap and top with the remaining ingredients.  Tightly roll and split to share or save half for later.  It’s filling!

Notes:

• I mixed a couple of packages of salad greens seeds to sprinkle in the pot and they sprouted and began to grow pretty quickly.  It didn’t take long to realize the snails had left only one kind of green which I thought was Green Leaf Lettuce.  Boy was I wrong.  It was arugula — which I love — but it was incredibly spicy.  Far more spicy than the wild arugula (which is much smaller with thin leaves and grows like a perennial).  Definitely an unexpectedly spicy, but yummy wrap!
• I like wraps in general, but rarely if ever make them for myself.  I see them at parties or meetings loaded with cream cheese and sliced into spirals.  I guess that constitutes a wrap in its pre-sliced state, right?  I bought some low-carb , almost fat-free whole grain wraps (Toufayan Bakeries) and was surprised to find they were actually tasty.  Since I made this wrap, I’ve been scrambling eggs and wrapping them up with tomatoes and basil.  Clearly, they’re growing on me.
• Use any kind of salad greens and herbs for a wrap like this, but go heavy on the greens. I thought of it as a way to eat salad without a plate and it worked.
• I had the chicken left over from the previous night’s dinner, so it was perfect for this.
• Adding the rest of the ingredients is fun.  Just use what you enjoy.
• About the sorrel:  It’s specifically Bloody Sorrel or Red Dock, an herb which comes from the Mediterranean region and used both medicinally and in cooking.  Some sources will say that it’s purely ornamental and that eating it will cause stomach discomfort.  I’ve never had that problem.  Overall, sorrel has a strong taste without the metallic characteristic that spinach often has, and with a bit of a tang.  It’s not bitter or sharp tasting.  To prepare it, I remove the red veins and central stem and discard.  I cook it for soup with spinach and also use it in salads.  Greens like bloody sorrel and spinach contain oxalic acid which interferes with the absorption of the calcium in those foods.  If cooked, this no longer happens.  Read more about foods containing oxalic acid here.
• My sorrel is planted in a small herb box.  It enjoys sun for half the day — mostly in the afternoon.  On hot days, it’s prone to extreme wilting unless it’s been watered that morning.  It perks back up out of direct sunlight.  New leaves are very tender and great for something like this wrap.  Like most plants, the older, larger leaves are more coarse and tough.  Keep an eye on it, as snails and slugs enjoy it quite a bit.

Patio Project Progress:

Essentially, we’re freshening things up out back to make it more attractive and pleasant to spend time in.  Although we’re working primarily on the planters, at some point, we need to replace the fence for privacy since we’re in such close proximity to our neighbors on both sides.

Before: Old flagstone chipped, breaking. Fence rotten.

I'm replacing flagstone with river rocks.

Looks much better, doesn't it?

New plants and a temporary fence are done.

Now the planter is ready for painting.

Continuing the rocks across the center.

I'm digging out the old soil in the planter on the other side now.

Something happened to our Sunday dinners this busy season.  They’re usually what I manage to hang on to after watching our weeknight dinners dissipate one by one from thoughtful, healthy salads and planned entrees, to a quick forage through the wilted inhabitants of my veggie bin for something to saute with rice or pasta.  Throw in some garlic and it’s dinner, right?  Hardly, but it can be eaten in a bowl, sometimes as late as 9:30 p.m. while we’re huddled in our dimly lit family room in front of a recorded show and making weary attempts at questioning one another about the day.

It’s no wonder that looking forward to uninterrupted time in the kitchen draws my attention to the weekend where the result is pleasant time together over a meal that is special — read:  is served on a plate at a reasonable hour.  The idea of “special”  seems to be part of a process to me;  a recipe catches my eye and lingers on the periphery of the minutiae that accumulates in my head, and somehow I manage to remember the main ingredient while on one of my less than stellarly organized grocery shopping trips.  The remembered ingredient is then wedged into my freezer, which just might contain the very same ingredient somewhere in its depths, as a reminder that Sunday dinner is a possibility.  Hopefully, this classifies me as an optimist.

Time goes by.  Other ingredients are collected in other stop-after-work trips to the store for the cat food or laundry detergent I forgot on the previous trip, and because those ingredients are often perishable, they become part of a different meal (see above).  It’s a vicious cycle.

Finally, the day arrives as it does each year.  Busy season ends, and glimmers of a normal life surface.  The long-awaited day in the kitchen and meal are planned and the big question looms:  Will it have been  worth the wait?

Absolutely.

(And this has nothing to do, of course, with the fact that Chef Voltaggio not only took the time to comment on my effort, but put a shout-out about my speck in the food universe on his site, Voltaggio Brothers in “Food Writing.”)

A gracious and hearty thanks to Michael Voltaggio!

Michael Voltaggio’s Indian-Spiced Short Ribs

1/4 c. coriander seeds
2 T cumin seeds
1 T black peppercorns
1 T ground ginger
1 T ground cardamom
1 T cinnamon
1 tsp. ground cloves
1/2 tsp. crushed red pepper
3 bay leaves, crumbled
2 T canola oil
4 boneless short ribs (10 to 12 ounces each), trimmed of fat
Salt
1 lg. sweet onion, thinly sliced
2 carrots, chopped
1 celery rib, chopped
3 plum tomatoes, coarsely chopped
2 heads of garlic, halved crosswise
2 cups dry red wine
1 quart chicken stock or broth

Preheat the oven to 325° F.

In a cast iron skillet, toast coriander and cumin seeds slowly over medium heat until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Remove from heat and allow to cool.  Transfer seeds to a spice grinder and add peppercorns, ginger, cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, crushed red pepper and bay leaves.   Pulse to a powder and set aside.

In a large casserole pan, heat the oil. Season meat with salt and cook over high heat until browned and crusty on all sides, about 15 minutes. Remove to a platter and set aside.

Add onion, carrots and celery to the same pan and cook over medium until softened and lightly browned, about 7 minutes. Add tomatoes, garlic and 3 T of the spice mix.  Cook until tomatoes begin to fall apart, about 3 minutes, then add wine, scraping up any browned bits on the bottom of the pan.  Bring to boil and reduce by half.  Add stock and bring to a simmer. Add the browned meat and juices to the vegetable mixture and season with salt. Cover with foil or a lid and place in the oven about 2 hours or until just tender but not falling off the bone.

Remove meat to a baking sheet and pour the rest of the mixture through a strainer into a saucepan. Press against the solids with a spoon to extract more juice before discarding. Boil the liquid over high heat until reduced to 1 cup.

While the sauce is reducing, preheat broiler placing a rack about 6- 8 inches from heat. Brush meat with sauce, then sprinkle lightly with some of the remaining spice mixture.   Broil briefly until sizzling.

Serve short ribs with some of the sauce spooned over.

We enjoyed this recipe with Aloo Gobi, a spicy Indian cauliflower and potato dish flavored with green chilies, cilantro, and turmeric which was also fabulous.

Notes:

• This fabulous recipe can be found in the April 2010 issue of Food & Wine and is one created by last season’s winner of Top Chef.  He and his brother Bryan have a great food forum at Voltaggio Brothers.
• The spice blend is a type of garam masala.  Ingredients for this blend vary from one recipe to another, and I’ve found it’s fun to try a variety.  This one is much different than others I’ve tried as it contains both cinnamon and cardamom.  The cloves are also an addition I’m not used to.  For the spice in my blend, I chopped up half of a red serrano chili, seeds and all.
• I rarely make a recipe as written but was fairly close with this one because it is so much different than any short rib recipes I’ve tried. I was intrigued from the start.  When I make short ribs, they’re always smaller than what is described in recipes of this nature and a couple make a nice individual serving.  There’s no way to slice anything off of the bone and arrange it as I might another cut of meat that’s been braised.
• This was almost a one-pot recipe.  I used my Mario Batalli orange enameled cast iron lasagna pan for this.  (And no, I’m not selling them.)  It works great on the stove top when I want a high brown that will be deglazed, then the whole recipe popped into the oven.
• I used hot-house tomatoes because I had them on hand.  A jammy Rosenblum Cellars California Zinfandel was used in the braise– about $12.
• This is truly an excellent recipe that seems like a lot of work, but isn’t.  Many parts can be made ahead if need be — like the garam masala.  This recipe makes enough for the short ribs and leaves a scant 3 T left over for other recipes.
• We liked this so much that I’m going to try it with a larger cut of meat just to see how the incredible flavor holds up.  I’m thinking that finishing it on the barbeque would be great.

I live in an area that is perfect for growing just about anything all year long if one can forget the pesky dilemma of drought we’ve endured for the past many years.  I’ve been a reasonably capable gardener most of my life — thanks to my mother who most likely could grow a stick in the Sahara –  so I’ve always had plants that needed tending.  Whether they were house plants, everyday geraniums, or wildflowers I grew from seed scattered over moist soil, I’ve enjoyed the peace that has come from caring for them.

Fast forward about 10 years.

I no longer have any property to speak of to plant things in;  instead, I have what I’ll call an extended patio that wraps around one and a half sides of our house.  It all seemed so wonderful when we bought it, not to have to worry about fixing a leaky roof or painting it, and for the most part, I still agree.  But there are days when I long for a yard — or at least a yard that is more than eight feet wide.  On other days, I’m thankful that I don’t have to take care of that dream yard.  I used to have one and know that as much as it provides a sense of accomplishment and overall beauty to a home, it can be overwhelming to care for.

Last spring, I finally decided to purchase an herb box.  Of course, I’ll be the first to admit that an herb box (dimensions roughly 8″ x 36″) isn’t quite the replacement for a dream yard, but I can deal with the delusion when the Pacific is a short 10 minutes from my door.  My rosemary bushes grow like weeds in my planters, so they were the least of my concerns.  It was more the need to have parsley, or oregano, and maybe marjoram, or salad greens.  Now that would be a luxury!  A year has gone by, and I’ve been so busy I haven’t spent much time on my patio.  The herb box hasn’t gotten much attention.  Thyme has disappeared in more ways than one, and the purple basil never really flourished to begin with.  What I’m surprised to find is red sorrel bursting with life and all but wearing an advertisement for snails and worms to have lunch.  It never really died down over winter, and now, after our recent rainy weather, it’s flourishing along with the parsley and marjoram.  Granted, the level of soil in the box is about 50% of what it once was, but still.  Surprisingly, the arugula is sending out tender shoots as well.  Go figure.

I decided that it was the perfect reason to make a spring salad, even though the vernal equinox is still a week away.  Anything surviving the neglect my herb box has had to withstand deserves to be celebrated.  And I suppose it’s proof that one only needs a strip of space with bright light most of the day to lull her into the notion of being an urban gardener warrior.

Nice.

Red Sorrel and Arugula Salad with Avocado and Orange

For the salad…

a palm full of red sorrel

half a palm full of tender new arugula sprouts

a few hearty sprigs of flat-leafed parsley

some avocado

an orange

sprinkle of feta

For the dressing…

the juice of half a Meyer lemon

a few teaspoons or so of excellent, fruity, extra virgin olive oil (from California)

a dash or two of superior Sherry vinegar (from Espana)

cracked pepper

sea salt

Rinse the greens, because the small snail you found hiding under one of the sorrel leaves has left its mark in more than one place.  Resist trimming the edges the other garden critters have chewed, because it’s organic, right?  Slice the avocado and peel the orange, removing as much as the pith as you can.  If you’re like me, eat the pith because it reminds you of times spent in childhood gnawing the inside of orange peels on hot summer days.

To make the dressing, squeeze the lemon and with a fork, whisk in the olive oil.  Splash in the vinegar and mix well.  Season and taste.  Adjust.

Pour a bit of dressing on the greens and toss well.  Plate and add the avocado and orange.  Drizzle on more dressing to your liking and sprinkle on the feta.

Notes:

• I don’t want to give anyone the idea that salad is something that has a season.  We eat salad all year long.  We have to or our bodies will rebel — and they should.  Please do not talk to me about cavemen.
• Can I just say that it semi pains me to clip anything from my herb box?  In much the same way that I rarely clip flowers to take inside and put in a vase, I had a nanosecond of angst clipping the sorrel.  But then I was over it.
• Red-veined sorrel, or rumex sanguineus is also known as Bloody Dock, Red-veined Dock, or Bloody Sorrel.  Makes you want to have a salad, doesn’t it?
• And guess what? It’s a perennial!  No wonder it survived the winter.  More importantly, it loves damp soil.  Good thing it’s in an herb box instead of our less than lovely So Cal soil which is a scary mixture of decomposed granite, limestone, and clay.
• On another note, my particular plant doesn’t sport the flower mentioned in some sources, nor does it cause stomach upset.
• The taste isn’t what I’d call bitter, but it does have a tartness to it — much less so than escarole, or endive.
• The sweetness of the orange is a very nice balance, but if you’re not someone who relishes biting into strong greens, then add a bit of honey to the dressing and a smidge of dijon.  It’s good for you!
• If you’re not the “tart” green person that I am, check out this source.  Mmmm….
• P.S.  Monosaturated fat in the avocado (and evoo) and vitamin C in the orange.  Dark green leafy veg….healthy, healthy, healthy.
• I did find this recipe using red-veined sorrel in soup — with bacon.  Now to try and gather 2 lbs. of it.  Maybe I need another herb box.

My mother has always been a master at stretching a dollar because she’s had lots of practice most of her life.  As a single mother of three children under the age of five by the time she was 25, she worked hard to put a roof over our heads and food on the table.  She was very good at providing us a life we never considered was lacking, even though by today’s standards, most would say it was.   Our clothes were mended and patched when they began to show wear, and those gently worn were passed down to the next child in line.  Yes, we had toys, but more often, we ran around outside playing with friends at imaginary games. We ate only at meal times, and when we did, the food was simple and filling.  Often, beans were on the menu, and on those days when my little sister asked what we were having for dinner, the response would be, “Hundreds of wonderful things.” And why not when you consider that a two-pound bag of pintos costs only a few dollars even at today’s prices.

As much as I still enjoy a good pot of beans, white beans, or cannellinis, are what we most enjoy now.  Often referred to as white kidney beans, they’re related to navy beans, or great northern beans.  I often keep a can or two in my pantry, but I always have a small bag of dried beans as well.  They find their way into so many different quick dishes these days — like pasta, soup, or salad.  Our favorite way to eat them is with wilted dark greens such as chard or kale, and lots of garlic.  On some nights, sun-dried tomatoes are tossed into the mix, and others, whatever pasta  I have in the pantry helps bring everything together.

This recipe for “Cooked Shell Beans” is from Frank Sitt’s Bottega Favorita and is a good starting point for so many fabulous recipes, including a nice Bean Puree if you add some roasted garlic.  Put a pot on this weekend, and enjoy all the possibilities.

Cooked Cannellinis

18 oz. dried cannelinis (about 3 c.)

1 leek

1 sweet onion

1 carrot

4 cloves garlic

bouquet garni with thyme, marjoram, 2 bay leaves, chives, and several sprigs of flat-leafed parsley

salt & pepper to taste

extra virgin olive oil*

Parmesan

Place the pre-soaked beans (see notes below) in a large pot and cover with about 3 inches of cold water.  Split the leek lengthwise, removing the dark green leaves and rinsing the remaining light green and white pieces well.  Quarter the onion and carrot, adding those as well.  Smash the garlic cloves, remove the peels, and add them to the pot.  To make the bouquet garni, take a dark green leek leaf and wrap it around the other herbs, securing the package with a bit of kitchen string.  Add it to the pot with the other ingredients and bring everything to a simmer over medium heat, partially covered.  Continue cooking slowly, about 45 minutes, then stir in  a few large pinches of salt.  Finish cooking at a low simmer until the beans are very tender, an additional 45 minutes or so.

To serve, use your imagination!  Here, cannellinis (sans bean broth) are served with a good extra virgin olive oil, some fresh thyme, maldon salt, cracked pepper, and shaved Parmesan.   However you serve them, don’t throw out the bean broth!  It can be used with the beans for soup, to lighten a pasta dish served with beans, to braise vegetables, or to make bean puree (recipe follows).

Notes:

• Dried beans need to be soaked before cooking.  Slow method: the night before you want to cook them, rinse them in a colander to make sure there are no stones or bad beans.  (Honestly, in all my years, I’ve never seen a stone in my bag of beans, but my teeth can’t afford the risk, so I rinse.)  In a large pot, cover the beans with 2 inches and let them sit overnight.  They’ll swell quite a bit.  Discard the liquid when you’re ready to cook them.  Fast method: Cover the pot and heat the beans and water to a boil.  Turn off the heat and allow the beans to sit covered for about 1 hour.
• During the cooking time, if desired, add water to keep the beans submerged by about 2 inches.  This will give you a good amount of bean broth.  If you choose not to, you’ll have a thicker sauce with your beans.
• I know what you’re thinking.  Beans give you quite a bit of intestinal discomfort.  The soaking process is supposed to help with that, so plan ahead.
• Beans are considered a super food and a rich source of protein, fiber, and antioxidants.  This all adds up to “healthy!”
• Rancho Gordo is a great source of information, products and recipes for beans.
• * When I attended the Foodbuzz Festival last November in San Francisco, I participated in an olive oil tasting seminar.  Not only did I learn that tasting olive oil is a similar process to tasting wine, I received a bottle of California Ranch’s Olio Nuovo to sample.  Its pungent, fresh, grassy taste was a treat I’ll not soon forget.  It was perfect on salads,  crusty bread, and drizzled over these beans.
• The salad is one I never posted:  arugula, fresh mozarella, shallots, roasted cherry peppers (or was it grape tomatoes?), cannellini…I think it was Bittman No. 54.  I’ll have to go back and check.

Cannellini Puree

1 c. cooked cannellinis

2 tsp. roasted garlic

1 small potato, cooked and peeled

salt & pepper to taste

extra virgin olive oil

Add the cannellinis, garlic, and potato to a food processor and run until the mixture is smooth.  If necessary, add a bit of the bean broth to lighten it.    Taste, and season with salt and pepper.  Drizzle on some very good extra virgin olive oil.

Use as a dip for crudites, a topping for crostini, and pizza, or filling for ravioli.

Notes:

• I love this.  It’s wonderful as a dip with vegetables in place of fatty sour cream based dips.  Make sure it’s the right consistency and seasoned well.
• If you’d like it with more carbs, toast pieces of a baguette with a bit of olive oil.  Dip them into a bowl of bean puree drizzled with the olive oil.  Fabulous party food.
• The roasted garlic is so good in this.  To send it over the edge, add a bit of the roasted garlic olive oil to the puree before digging in.
• If you’ve never roasted garlic — it’s very easy.  And you don’t need a ceramic roaster.  Aluminum foil will work just fine.  Halve two heads of garlic.  Drizzle olive oil over the heads, salt and pepper, then sprinkle some fresh thyme over.  Roast at 325 degrees about 45 minutes.  Allow to cool then squeeze the garlic from the peelings and mash to use in the beans.  Save the oil — it’s fabulous, but use it quickly over crostini, pasta, risotto, or grilled vegetables.  Roasted garlic is also delicious spread over crusty bread.

Have you ever made tamales?  No, not tamale pie.  My mother used to make that and as much as I enjoyed her cooking, tamale pie would not have been one of my favorites.  From what I can remember, it was noticeably sweet, and comprised of hamburger, corn, and canned tomatoes.  I’m not going to blame this on my mother, because I know it was the recipe.  Tamale pie could never compare to homemade tamales.

The only source of comparison I have is that of local women who tempt office workers with their once-a-week offerings, wrapped in foil, and still piping hot.  They’re amazing and so of course it’s a challenge to not eat one before taking them home to share for dinner.  I’d say that’s a fairly good model to work from.

Often, tamales are made with dried corn husks, the masa, or corn meal and filling spread on the inside of a dried corn husk, or fresh banana leaf before steaming.  The filling can be anything imaginable, and often is depending on who traditionally makes the tamales, and what region of Mexico or the Southwest U.S. they’re from.

If you’ve been studying Mexican cooking like I have the past few years, the idea of banana leaves wrapped around a savory filling is quite tempting; it sounds so exotic! A glance out my patio window focuses in on the not so big non-fruit bearing variegated leaf banana plant I’ve been nurturing as a possible source.  No, I’d have to depend on a local market, which shouldn’t be a challenge in San Diego considering the influence of Mexican cooking, but it is.

When I first happened on to the lone 4-lb. package of huge sections of banana tree leaves recently, I grabbed it knowing I’d procrastinated long enough and could now make my own homemade tamales. I knew I didn’t need four pounds of leaves, so attempted quite unsuccessfully to separate them.  Unfortunately, the leaf strips were enormous and all folded together, so my efforts in trying to avoid waste ended up creating something worse.  The leaves began to split, making them useless for the next shopper’s tamales.

Thankfully, my first attempt at tamales was a success thanks to the help of a very good friend.  Between the two of us, influence from a few good recipes, and a make-shift steamer, a few split banana leaves caused very few problems.

Tamales with Pibil-Style Pork and Guajillo Sauce

For the guajillo sauce…

6 cloves garlic, unpeeled
16-20 dried guajillo chilies (1 4-oz. pkg.)
1 tsp. dried Mexican oregano
1/4 tsp. freshly cracked pepper
pinch ground cumin
3-2/3 c. broth
1-1/2 T olive oil
1 tsp. salt
1 T sugar

For the pork…

1 medium onion, quartered through core
4 garlic cloves, peeled
1/3 cup fresh orange juice
1/3 cup fresh lime juice
1/4 cup achiote paste (see notes)
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
2 teaspoons coarse kosher salt
1 teaspoon ground black pepper
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano (preferably Mexican)
1 4 1/2- to 5-pound bone-in pork shoulder roast (Boston butt)

For the tamales…

1 lb. banana leaves
1 lb. masa fine for tamales or 1-3/4 c. masa harina for tamales + 1 c. hot water (see notes)
1/2 c. (4 oz.) vegetable shortening or lard
2/3 c. cool broth
3/4 tsp. salt

cotton string

Directions

For the pork…

Place the onion and garlic (skins on) in a dry skillet over medium heat.  Cook about 15 minutes or until fragrant and with black spots appearing on the skins.  Allow to cool, then peel and put in a blender or food processor with the citrus juice, achiote paste, vinegar, salt, pepper, cumin, and oregano.  Pulse to puree until smooth.

Dry the pork with paper towels and then coat exterior with citrus puree.  Place in a sealable plastic bag or wrap well with plastic.  Refrigerate for about 4 hours, or, overnight.

Cook pork in an oven or using the indirect heat grilling method at 350 degrees F or until it is extremely tender, about 3 hours.  Allow to cool, then shred, or cut into very small pieces.  Set aside.

For the guajillo sauce…

Cook the garlic as described above.

While the garlic is cooking, cut the stems from the guajillos, cut each once lengthwise to open, and remove them along with the seeds.  When the garlic is done and cooling, lay each chili in the pan.  You’ll have to press on them with a wooden spoon to toast them.  You’ll know they’re ready to be turned when you see a puff of smoke, but not a second longer.  Turn and repeat with each chili.

Place the toasted chilis in a bowl and pour enough hot water over them to cover.  Allow them to sit at least 30 minutes.  Expect to save the water for another use, if you prefer.  It can take the place of all or part of the broth in the recipe as long as it is seasoned.

When the 30 minutes has passed, using a blender or food processor, add the peeled garlic, oregano, pepper, cumin, and 2/3 c. of the broth along with the chilis and puree until smooth.  Pour into a fine meshed strainer positioned over a bowl, and using a rubber spatula, rub the puree through the strainer, scraping the bottom to collect the sauce.  Continue until only small piece of the dried guajillo skin are left.  Discard.

In the same dry skillet used to roast the garlic and chilis, pour in the puree all at once.  Stir constantly over medium-high heat about 5-7 minutes until it thickens to a paste, deepens in color, and smells pungent.

Stir in the rest of the broth and simmer, covered partially, until the consistency of cream, about 30 minutes.  If it becomes too thick, then add more broth.

To finish, taste and add to your preference, salt and sugar.

Use as part of the pork filling, and as a sauce to serve over the completed tamales.

To prepare the pork filling…

Place the shredded or cubed pork in a skillet and pour over about 1/2 cup of the guajillo sauce, making sure to coat all.  Allow to simmer on very low heat while preparing the masa and banana leaves.

Make the masa batter…

Beat the shortening or lard until it is light and fluffy, less than a minute.  Add the masa (purchased fresh, or reconstituted) in several additions, beating well between additions.  Add only enough of the cool broth (1/2-2/3 c.) while beating to create a soft batter that is slightly pourable.   To test for readiness, drop a teaspoon full in a cup of cold water.  If it floats, the batter is read to be used.  Season with salt according to your taste.

For the tamales…

Cut about 20 squares of the banana leaves — each about 8×8 inches.  To prepare them for the filling, use tongs to hold them over a gas burner until they soften and become quite shiny.  It helps to have one person doing this, and another on the receiving end, but is not necessary (just more fun).  If you don’t have gas burners, then you can steam them one at a time until they’re pliable.

Spoon about 1/4 of the masa batter onto the banana leaf, positioning it in the center of the square.  With the back of a spoon or offset spatula, spread the mixture to the right, forming a rectangle.  Stop about an inch from the edge of the banana leaf.  Spoon a bit of the chili-pork mixture on the extreme left of the masa rectangle.  Then fold the entire right side of the banana leaf toward the center, which folds the masa over the pork.  Fold in the bottom and top sides to the center, then continue to fold the remainder toward the original direction — left.  Use a piece of cotton string to tie around the package and make a bow.  Set aside and repeat until all the banana leaf squares are filled.  You’ll have left over pork.

To cook the tamales…

I used a large roaster pan with offset baking racks set inside.  I placed the roaster over two burners on my stovetop and once the tamales were placed in a single layer on the baking racks, poured water from the tea kettle into the pan, being careful to not pour it on the tamales.  With the heat on low, I covered the roaster with foil and allowed the tamales to steam about 1 to 1-1/4 hours.  You’ll have to pull back the foil occasionally to make sure there’s water in the bottom of the roaster, so make sure you have a kettle simmering to add hot water when it’s needed.

To serve, unwrap the tamales and pour on some extra sauce.  They’re delicious.  I promise.

Notes:

• I relied heavily on Rick Bayless’ book Mexican Kitchen, his website, Frontera Kitchens, and Epicurious for these tamales.   The guajillo sauce is from Bayless’ book, but is a staple so can be found in a variety of places.  Once you learn that onions and garlic are always roasted in their skins in a dry skillet and the chilis follow, there’s not much to it.  The pork recipe was found at Epicurious, and originally used when it appeared in Bon Appetit a couple of years ago.  The masa mixture and directions came from a few places — courtesy of Bayless and various packages of masa harina and masa fina.
• Pibil pork is simply slow roasted pork.  In this case, it’s made with a citrus-based marinade to which spices and achiote are added.
• I’ve researched achiote before and was surprised to find there’s not much to it.  It’s an ingredient with ancient Mayan roots that seems to be more of a coloring than anything else.  If you’re as curious as I am — inquisitive, not odd –  then you can learn more about it here and make your very own!  I haven’t made my own yet, but I’ll get there.
• For the pork:  I’ve made this on the grill, in the oven, and in a crockpot.  The superior way to cook it is on the grill after it’s marinated overnight.  No contest.  The flavor is very good using the other two methods, but the consistency is perfect coming off a grill.  If you do use the oven like I did this time, you will have a high brown on the exterior.  Just check the interior temp, looking for 170 degrees, and you’ll be fine.  You can make this ahead like I did, and wrap well to store in the fridge overnight.  It’s worth the effort because outside of preparing the marinade, there’s no effort involved.
• I used two large portions of pork shoulder for this recipe.
• Guajillos are a type of chili.  They’re spicy, but not “hot.” I find them bagged in the section of your grocery store that features Mexican spices.   I’d double this recipe because it’s that good, and you can refrigerate or freeze what’s left over for later use.  My friend considers it “gold” for the amount of processing it takes to create.  It’s delicious.
• You can find masa harina in the flour section of your grocery store.  It usually states that it’s for tamales.  Basic directions for how to make tamales will be on the package.  If you’re lucky enough to find prepared, or fresh masa, it usually comes in 2-lb. bags.  The purchased masa is the same as what you’d mix with water from the masa harina.  Create the tamale batter from this point with either to add the fat and salt.
• While we’re on the subject of fat — or in this case, lard — it’s personal preference.  Bayless lays it all out and makes complete sense with respect to lard, and I’ve tried it.  But I’m not used to the flavor and prefer the shortening.  You may be horrified by the addition of fat, but if you look at just how much masa is on the outside of each tamale, then you know that eating one or two is clearly a good thing, and not the 5 or 6 you’d like to if no one is looking.
• You can make the pork and go without adding the guajillo sauce to it, but what the heck?  It’s amazing sauce, so why not?  But I hope you can see that if you can pull this together, then you can put whatever you’d like in a tamale, just like those who have made them traditionally for centuries — in fact thousands of years.

]]> http://www.sassandveracity.com/2010/01/28/tamales-with-pibil-style-pork-and-guajillo-sauce/feed/ 24 http://www.sassandveracity.com/2009/11/04/wordless-wednesday-out-of-garlic/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=wordless-wednesday-out-of-garlic http://www.sassandveracity.com/2009/11/04/wordless-wednesday-out-of-garlic/#comments Thu, 05 Nov 2009 06:09:26 +0000 kellypea http://sassandveracity.com/?p=1187

I’m never out of garlic, and yet yesterday when I wondered about what would go in the potato leek soup we made for dinner, I found I had only the shriveled remnants of my normally plump reserve.  There were no shallots, and I couldn’t find an onion, either.  Cooking just isn’t the same for me without these flavors.  I roast garlic and smear it on crostini, flavor oil with it to drizzle over roasted vegetables, saute it with almost everything, smash it and sprinkle on some sea salt to make a paste, mince it, cook whole heads in their papery skin, and wince when I find I’m out.

Have you had your garlic today?