happy mother’s day

It’s been a while since I last spent any Mother’s day with my mom at all — 6 years if we’re being exact. Growing up, I had a bit of a difficult relationship with her and we didn’t use to get along very well. It’s only after I’ve moved out to live on my own that our relationship started improving; perhaps because we weren’t always in each other’s hair any more but also probably because I had gotten older and started to realize that my mom always had my best interest at heart. It took me years to fully understand and internalize this fact, but my mom loves me and is always there when I need someone to turn to.

I remember the time I had fallen sick when I started living on my own. Back at home, every time I was sick, my parents always showered me with care and pamper. My dad would come to my bed almost every hours to make sure I had taken the medicines, and my mom would bring me water or soup. She would just sit there on the bed and pet my head with her hands. Since I’ve been away from home, not being taken care of like that has always been more miserable than the sickness itself. If I need medicines I would have to go get it at the pharmacy. If I want soup I have to make it myself. The first time I got sick living alone, I just lied in bed with my high fever, thinking about my mom’s cool and thin hands touching my forehead like she always did when I was at home — her skin was so green and thin it had appeared almost translucent. At one point, I even hallucinated that she was sitting on my bed with her back facing me. I called out to her only to be sorely disappointed and realize it was just my brain and memory playing a cruel trick on me. I never knew how much I needed her until I didn’t have her around any more.

In my country, Mother’s Day isn’t as celebrated as it is here in America; but since I moved here, my mom always asked me to email her on the holiday. The first couple of years were weird. I wasn’t used to doing it, and it seemed like such a pretentious and superficial fad to me. I’ve gotten better much better at it and always make a point to send her a message on Mother’s Day now, but it’s always a little hilarious to me when checking my email on the second Saturday of May and finding an email of her reminding me of my daughterly duty. Yes, mom, Happy Mother’s Day!

tender

I knows this sounds absolutely ridiculous, but as the little seeds I sowed in the garden started sprouting and growing into plants, I’ve since counted myself as one of those people who really knows what gardening is all about. Really, how much could there be to know? It doesn’t matter that my entire growing experience is comprised solely of bringing a few squash plants to a two-inch height, I’m always enthusiastic to veer a conversation toward my new achievement: “Yes, it’s great that you defended your doctoral thesis, got married, moved into a new house, are now expecting a baby, but did I tell you about my zucchini?” Whereas I previously considered growing one’s own food the sort of hippy-dippy thing that is beneath an accomplished urbanite like I am, my thoughts now hardly leave the topic of how I can expand my city farming operation — I’ve settled on a spot where the milking cows are going to be and a place where my darling fiancé can put together some chicken coups.

All kidding aside, I will say that gardening has been an interesting experience for me. It’s never been any secret that when you put seeds in soil, plants grow up, possibly entirely without any intervention from humans at all (I mean, look at the weeds on my lawn). The sense of accomplishment that comes from growing something, though, is tremendous. I never thought I could be so excited to see the first signs of a seed germinating or a new leaf on my tomato plants. Life and growth, when so evidently observable, can bring such marvelous joys.

Starting my own garden is also how I got around to reading Nigel Slater’s Tender: A Cook and His Vegetable Patch, where all of what I feel about gardening is reflected, only in much more intelligent, eloquent and gentle terms. The book is immensely engaging, with Nigel’s casual but affectionate prose and the spectacular pictures of his garden and vegetables on the thick and coarse paper. To me, there is nothing more lovely than to sit at the dining room table, where I can look out the big window to my raised beds, and be immersed in the lushness that comes alive in every word, every photo, every recipe on the pages. Until I came across a recipe that was too good for me to pass up, that is.

Moist Chocolate-Beetroot Cake

I’ve made this recipe several times, and only in my most recent attempt where I turned the batter into cupcakes did it keep its beautiful, deep red color after coming out of the oven. This is quite possibly because the cupcakes take a lot less time to bake (less than half for a whole cake) that the color of the beets aren’t muted from a long stay in the oven. Needless to say, I was very excited to have accidentally come across a recipe for all-natural red velvet cupcakes that doesn’t call for all that food coloring. Either way you make it, and whatever color the cake turns out to be, it will still be very moist and rich, with a subtle sweetness — making it the perfect snack time treat.

Adapted from Tender by Nigel Slater

Makes 1 8-inch round cake or 20 cupcakes

250 grams beetroot (about 3 medium-sized beets)
200 grams good dark chocolate (at least 70% cocoa solids)
4 tablespoons hot espresso or coffee
200 grams butter, cut into small pieces
135 grams all-purpose flour
1 heaping teaspoon baking powder
3 tablespoons cocoa powder
A pinch of salt
5 eggs, separated
19 grams light brown sugar

1. Boil the beets, whole and unpeeled, for 30 to 40 minutes until they feel tender when cut with a knife. Note that young beets may require less time so start checking early. Pour the boiled beets into a strainer and run cold water over them until they’re cool enough to handle. Slice off the stems and roots, peel, and purée in a food processor to a rough consistency.
2. Preheat oven to 350ºF. Lightly butter an 8-inch springform pan and line with parchment paper, or line a cupcake pan with paper liners.
3. Melt the butter and chocolate in a small bowl that can sit snugly over a pot of simmering water. Toward the end when the chocolate and butter is almost fully melted, pour in the espresso/coffee and stir just until combined.
4. In another bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, cocoa and salt. Whip the egg whites and sugar in a large mixing bowl or the bowl of an electric mixer until a stiff meringue is formed. Stir the yolks together in a small bowl.
5. Work quickly and carefully to take the bowl of chocolate off the heat and set aside for a few minutes and then stir in the egg yolks until thoroughly incorporated into the chocolate mixture. Fold in the beets. Next fold the meringue into the chocolate mixture, being careful not to over mix. Last, fold in the sifted flour, baking powder,cocoa and salt.
6. Pour the batter into the prepared cake pan and place on a baking sheet before putting in the oven. Immediately turn the oven temperature down to 325ºF. Bake for 40 minutes (15 to 20 minutes for cupcakes) until the edges of the cake are slightly set but the middle of the cake is a little jiggly when gently poked with a finger. Let cool completely before serving.

poor little bunny

I’ve got a cold, y’all. Not just any cold, mind you, but a Man Cold. Seriously, for the past few days, I’ve been staying in bed, miserable with a stuffy head, a runny nose, and a throat so sore it hurts to sneeze. Things aren’t looking too good around here at Casa de Beans. And the timing couldn’t be worse. The day I got sick was also the very same day that we got a new mattress to replace the old crappy one that has worn so thin I can feel the bed slats every time I lie down on it. Alas, a better mattress doesn’t really mean anything if you are woken up ten times a night because your nose is so congested you can’t sleep.

Anyway, since I’m little more than a sick and whining pile of misery right now, I would much rather go watch reruns on the Food Network than to bore you out of your mind with my first world problems. When I’m all better and fit to write, we’ll talk more about things that matter (like this springtime panzanella I’ve been dying to tell you about), mmk? In the mean time, have some cake and enjoy the sunshine.

Pineapple Upside-Down Cake

Adapted from Rick Ellis via Gourmet Magazine, February 2000

The original recipe includes 3 teaspoons of ground cardamom. Because I don’t like spiced desserts and Mike was equally dubious about the cardamom-pineapple combo, I chose to leave it out. The cake, as I made it, was simple and unassuming with bright flavors from the pineapple and rum. If you’re feeling adventurous and/or you love cardamom, make the recipe as it is written — it was noted that some of Gourmet’s food editors loved the intensity it brings to the recipe. The recipe also called for the cake to be baked in a well-seasoned 10-inch cast iron skillet. I made it in my regular 8-inch cake pan and it turned out a very nicely sized cake. I imagine a 9-inch round cake pan would work just as well.

For the topping:
1/2 medium pineapple (Golden or Extra Sweet is the best variety), peeled, quartered lengthwise, and cored
3/4 stick unsalted butter
3/4 cup packed light brown sugar
A pinch of salt

For the cake:
1 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
2 to 3 teaspoons ground cardamom (see head notes)
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 stick unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup light brown sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 tablespoons dark rum
1/2 cup unsweetened pineapple juice

1. Make the topping:  Coat a 8-or-9-inch round cake pan with baking spray. Cut pineapple crosswise into 3/8-inch-thick pieces. Melt butter in skillet. Add brown sugar and simmer over moderate heat, stirring, 4 minutes. Remove from heat and scrape into the prepared cake pan. Arrange pineapple on top of sugar mixture in concentric circles, overlapping pieces slightly.
2. Make the cake: Preheat oven to 350°F.
3. Sift together flour, cardamom, baking powder, and salt. Beat butter in a large bowl with an electric mixer until light and fluffy, then gradually beat in granulated sugar. Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat in vanilla and rum. Add half of flour mixture and beat on low speed just until blended. Beat in pineapple juice, then add remaining flour mixture, beating just until blended. (Batter may appear slightly curdled.)
4. Spoon batter over pineapple topping and spread evenly. Bake cake in middle of oven until golden and a tester comes out clean, about 45 minutes. Let cake stand in pan 5 minutes. Invert a plate over pan and invert cake onto plate (keeping plate and pan firmly pressed together). Replace any pineapple stuck to bottom of pan. Serve cake just warm or at room temperature.

pantry cooking

I enjoy a certain satisfaction when I’m able to pull out a meal from nothing more than ingredients I have stocked in the pantry. With the current trends in cooking, there are a lot of people who advocate using only the freshest ingredients — and I do agree with them, most of the time. However, there are few things in life that are as rewarding as merely opening your cupboards and finding dinner.

Often, the cornerstone of pantry-cooking is pasta. Rice and beans are also solid options for meals, but they take some planning in advance. Pasta dishes, on the other hand, usually involve almost no cooking and are a cinch to put together. They are also ludicrously quick and can be done in the time it takes for the pasta to cook.

Take this pasta with sardines I had for lunch as an example: save for the onion slicing and garlic mincing, the rest of the preparation involves opening jars, stirring things around a bit in the skillet, tossing in the pasta — et voila! — it’s done. And even though the dish takes so little time to make, it is in no way lacking in flavors. With a cast of garlic, capers, olives, pepperoncini and red pepper flakes, it is reminiscent of a pasta puttanesca, only less saucy (ha!) and more meaty with the addition of the sardines. Really, what could be a better way to reap the rewards of a well-stocked pantry?

Pasta with Sardines, Olives and Capers

The highlight in this pasta dish is, indeed, the use of sardines — which are inexpensive, packed full of nutrients without any risks of mercury and environmentally friendly. For those with an aversion to these little fish, I suppose canned tuna would work here as well. In a pinch, even anchovies can be used in place of the sardines, although they won’t be as substantial. Just remember to use the best fish you can find since its flavor really comes through in the dish and that’s what you will be tasting. I used good Spanish sardines packed in olive oil, and their flavor is superb.

Serves 2

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 red onion, sliced crosswise into half-moons
3 to 4 cloves garlic, minced finely
1 3.75-ounce can sardines, drained
1 tablespoon capers, drained
1/4 cup green olives, chopped
1/4 cup pickled pepperoncini, chopped
A pinch red pepper flakes
6 ounces spaghetti or other long pasta
Salt and pepper

1. Bring a large pot of water to boil and season it with salt. Put 1 tablespoon olive oil in a medium skillet over medium high heat. When it’s hot, add the red onion and cook, stirring frequently, until it is starting to soften and the edges are slightly browned. Season with salt and pepper, reduce the heat to low and let cook until the onion is completely translucent.
2. Meanwhile, add the pasta to the boiling water and cook until just tender; drain, reserving some of the cooking liquid. Turn the heat under the onions to medium-high and add the garlic, sardines, capers, olives, and red pepper flakes; cook, stirring occasionally, until just heated through and the sardines are slightly broken up, about 2 minutes.
3. Add the pasta to the sardine mixture and toss well to combine, adding in some reserved water, if necessary, to moisten. Taste and adjust seasoning, serve immediately.

the reason I’m here

It’s always a bit elusive to me to think about the reason I’m here, in the realm of food blogging. Yes, I love food and cooking, and I enjoy writing; but it’s probably safe to say that I excel in neither and, often times, I lack the discipline to keep it up. In this day and age — when there are so many people much more talented than I am and much better at both cooking and writing about the experience — sometimes, this little space seems superfluous in the sea of food blogs whose number is ever more expanding.

However, at the same time, I know why I started writing this blog in the first place and what has kept me going this far. It’s because I love to tell stories. Every time I sit down to write for this blog, I always want to write about something that reflects myself and the way I cook, eat, and love. And I always faithfully hope that at least one person out there who reads my writing will enjoy it — or even think, “Hey, that was a pretty interesting read.” What I want is a voice to tell my own stories, however insignificant they may be.

A little while back, when searching for a cake recipe to serve at a dinner party, I came across David Leite’s Portuguese Orange-Olive Oil cake. Before the recipe itself appealed to me, I was captivated by the story accompanying it. David, in the process of developing the recipe of the cake for his cookbook, made 13 versions of it until he was sure it was as good as the one he had in Lisbon. The restaurant where he had first had this cake, when asked for the recipe, gave him something that wasn’t even close to the real thing. Undaunted by the setback, he and one recipe tester went on to craft the recipe from scratch. The cake they created, as I can tell you with utmost certainty, is perfect. It is dense, moist, fragrant with the mellow scent of orange and rich with the taste of the olive oil.

What struck a chord with me about the story of this Orange-Olive Oil cake is the fact that it was conceived out of perseverance and the desire for perfection. Had David Leite given up somewhere before the 13th version, this recipe would never have been and those of us who aren’t lucky enough to dine at a hillside restaurant in Lisbon would never get to enjoy it. As it is, I can now make this cake whenever fancy strikes and so can you, all thanks to a man who loves his craft.

What I’m trying to say is — for the food I cook and the stories I tell, I make an effort to give them as much love and patience as David did his cake. Hopefully, one of these days, they will turn out as fabulously as well. In the mean time, I’ll be here, doing what I do — telling stories and eating cake.

Portuguese Orange-Olive Oil Cake

A Note on Eating One’s Own Words: Yes, I do realize that I had just lamented the (lack of) health benefits of cakes in the last post; but trust me, this cake is worth it. It is seriously delicious, and since it’s so rich and dense, even one small slice will satisfy. Plus, all that olive oil can’t be bad for you either.

A Note on the Advancement of Today’s Technology: When I first baked this cake, it had turned out with a monstrous and crackly dome on top that seemed a bit disastrous. Alarmed, I tweeted David to ask whether or not that was okay. Low and behold, he tweeted me back and said that was exactly the way his cake turned out as well. So, if you choose to make this cake and are troubled by this unseemly appearance, rest assured that it’s the way it’s supposed to be. Or, if it would make you feel any better, ask the man yourself.

The recipe is perfect as written and published, from Leite’s Culinaria.

Non-stick baking spray with flour
4 to 5 large navel oranges
3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 3/4 teaspoons kosher salt
5 large eggs
3 cups granulated sugar
1 1/2 cups mild extra-virgin olive oil
Confectioner’s sugar, for sprinkling (optional)

A light-colored Bundt pan with at least 12-cup capacity (I used this one)

1. Position a rack in the middle of the oven, remove any racks above, and crank up the heat to 350°F (175°C). Coat the Bundt pan with baking spray and set aside.
2. Finely grate the zest of 3 of the oranges, then squeeze 4 of them. You should have 1 1/2 cups of juice; if not, squeeze the 5th orange. Set aside.
3. Whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt in a large bowl and set aside.
4. In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, or with a handheld mixer in a large bowl, beat the eggs on medium-high speed until well-combined, about 1 minute. Slowly pour in the granulated sugar and continue beating until thick and pale yellow, about 3 minutes. On low speed, alternate adding the flour mixture and oil, starting and ending with the flour, and beat until just a few wisps of flour remain. Pour in the orange juice and zest and whirl for a few seconds to bring the batter together.
5. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake until a cake tester comes out with a few moist crumbs clinging to it, about 1 1/4 hours. If the top is browning too much as the cake bakes, cover lightly with foil. Transfer to a wire rack and cool for 15 minutes.
6. Turn the cake out onto the rack and cool completely, then place it in a covered cake stand (or wrap in plastic wrap) and let it sit overnight. Just before serving, dust with powdered sugar, if desired.