Mind you, I’ve seen–and even made–bread made out of cassava, but not what is known on the market as “cassava bread.” This particular product is dry, flat, and cracker-like. It’s quite plain and is meant to be eaten as an accompaniment to meats and stews. I asked my Dominican friend at work about that because the package says that it’s imported from the Dominican Republic. (What’s funny is that the store where I bought it had it stacked on a shelf in the produce aisle. Um, sure. You know, plantains, potatoes, and cassava bread all go together, right?)

She warned me that it’s very plain, and she was right. The texture was dry and hard, and the flavor (if it can be called that) is that of saltless toast. But that makes sense. When eating a spicy stew or sauce-covered meat, this bread is probably just right as a counter balance. I tried mine with tomatoes and olive oil, like a bruschetta. It wasn’t bad. It probably does better when left to soak up stew juices, though.

Cassava, by the way, also goes by the names yuca, manioc, and tapioca. It’s a staple food for South America, the Caribbean, Southeast Asia, and Africa, and it can be used fresh (i.e., the root) or as a flour (sometimes called tapioca starch). It’s a creamy white root, very starchy, and pretty bland. But it cooks up like a potato and is extremely versatile. It’s not the prettiest root in town, but it’s filling and is a great vehicle for all kinds of flavors, And, yes, it’s the same tapioca they use to make tapioca pearls from. That’s what you need for pudding and bubble tea.

Have you ever eaten cassava bread? How did/do you eat it? I love to learn about how ethnic foods are eaten, so please share.

Well, another week has gone. And the summer’s almost gone, too. Can’t believe it. Enjoy it while it lasts, folks. Have a great week.

This week, I was on a lychee kick. An Asian market near where I work had bags of beautiful, colorful lychees and I simply had to have some. But other than eating them straight out of hand, I didn’t know what to do with them. They are yet another food item that I did not grow up with and only became familiar with at the end of some Chinese meals. So, I set out to find some good lychee recipes. But first, a little info…

What Are Lychees?

Lychees, also spelled litchis, are native to China. They’re a roundish tropical and subtropical fruit of the soapberry family. The outside rind is pinkish/reddish and is pliable but tough, and has a rough texture. This rind is inedible and must be peeled away. Underneath that rough skin, however, is a soft, juicy flesh that is unlike anything else. It’s sweet, with floral notes and an equally floral perfume, and creamy white with a slight translucence. Despite its softness, it’s also firm, which makes it ideal as both an eating fruit and a cooking fruit (where texture is desired). Beneath the flesh is a dark brown, hard pit, which can be germinated to grow a lychee tree. It’s particularly popular in China, parts of Southeast Asia, and India.

Okay, now that we know what it is, let’s cook with it!

Cooking with Lychees

I found a bunch of very interesting recipes, but my week was busy, so I focused on three: two beverages and a dessert.

The dessert was a Lychee Tapioca Pudding. It called for cooking tapioca pudding and adding the lychees to it. Now, I’m not that familiar with tapioca. Again, it’s not something common in Italian households. And the last time I had it was many moons ago. So, as tapioca puddings go, I’m not quite sure how it came out. It was very thick and sticky, which I don’t think it’s supposed to be. But the flavor was very fruity, although it could have used more sugar. This is it on the right.

The first beverage was Lychee-Coconut Frappe. This is made with coconut cream (not cream of coconut), lime, and, of course, lychees. These are pureed together in a blender, like a smoothie. It was mildly sweet with a decidedly tropical flavor. (It tasted like something I’ve had before, but I still haven’t been able to figure out what that is.) It was reminiscent of a piña colada, so I think adding some rum to it would be fabulous. I’m doing that tomorrow night.  Tonight it’s…

Lychee Margarita. That’s the second drink. Of the three recipes, I like this one the best. It’s like a margarita, but with a delicate fruity edge to it. Yum.

Lychees are a great source of vitamin C and other nutrients. According to Nutritiondata.self.com, 1 cup of raw lychees has 226% of the recommended daily allowance of vitamin C, or 135.8 mg (according to the USDA), as well as some calcium, phosphorus, copper, potassium, and B2 (riboflavin). They’re also high in something called polyphenol, which is an antiinflammatory and antioxidant. In China, they’ve been used to treat stomach ailments and as a source of nutrition to newborns; in fact, the Chinese have even used peeled lychees as pacifiers.

Aside from the fresh fruit, lychees are available canned. Like anything else that’s canned, the flavor is inferior to fresh lychees. But since the season for fresh lychees is summer (May, June, July, August), you may want to avail yourself of the canned stuff in other seasons. You can also find lychee juice, syrup, and puree on the market.

I’m going to get more lychees this week while they’re still around and try out some more recipes. Below is the recipe for Lychee Margaritas, from LycheesOnline.com. If you have a great lychee recipe, feel free to share it here. See you next week, everybody.

Peace

Lychee Margarita

1 cup lychee juice
1 cup lime juice (about 8 limes)
1 1/3 cup lemon juice (about 1 lemon)
½ cup water
2 tablespoons grated lime zest
1 tablespoon grated lemon zest
1 tablespoon grated orange zest
¼ cup sugar
3 tablespoons of salt
1 ½ cups tequila
1 ½ cups Triple Sec

Combine the juices, water, zests and sugar.
Bring to a boil over medium-high heat.
Simmer on low heat, stirring occasionally, for 10 minutes.
Rub the rims of your glasses with the leftover lime rind or lychees, then dip the rims in salt.
Fill the glasses halfway with ice.
Strain the juice thru a fine sieve into a pitcher or cocktail shaker.
Add the tequila, Triple Sec and crushed ice.
Stir or shake 30 seconds and strain into the glasses.

I’m kind of mad at myself because I used to have purslane growing wild in my pots. The dirt in my pots came from a large garden I had in my backyard (which I subsequently paved over for a patio). But I wanted to grow vegetables and herbs so I transferred the dirt from the ground to the pots. All kinds of things came out of that dirt: garlic, mint, and purslane.

Well, growing up in an Italian family, I didn’t know from purslane. With all the food research and writing I’ve done, I’d heard of it but I’d never actually seen it. After all, it’s not a common market item. Not here in the U.S., anyway. At least, not in New York, where I live. I thought they were weeds.

So, I pulled them. Yep, every year, I pulled them out and tossed them. Only last year did I find out that those weeds were actually purslane. Now it no longer grows in my pots. And they’re selling it at the farmer’s market for $2 a pound.

I’m very annoyed by this.

So, What Exactly Is Purslane?

There’s some discrepancy about purslane’s origins, but the consensus seems to be that it’s native to the Asian/Middle Eastern part of the world. Purslane has a thick, reddish stem with roundish leaves. It’s been likened to both spinach and watercress. Its leaves are used as herbs, particularly in France, and for salads, soups, and stir-fries throughout Europe, Asia, and in Latin American countries, where it’s known as verdolaga. But according to Wikipedia (and, therefore, it’s fact), in the U.S., it is considered a weed, hence its absence from most markets. (And it proves that I’m not a total dumbass.)

Purslane contains Omega-3 fatty acids, which most land-based plants don’t have, vitamins A, C, some B, magnesium, calcium, potassium, and iron, as well as antioxidants. Supposedly, the leaves can be used to relieve sores and insect and snake bites.

And it would appear that purslane/verdolaga is available jarred. Who knew? I certainly didn’t.

Now I’ll have to see if I can prod a purslane root or two back to life in my vegetable pots. It would irritate me if I had to start paying for it.

If you have purslane available (hopefully, growing like weeds in your garden), here are a couple of recipes to try. Let me know how you like them. Have a great week, everyone.

Both of these recipes are from Tuscon Community Supported Agriculture

Honey Dijon Purslane and Red Potato Salad

By Heidi DeCosmo
Makes 8 (1/2 cup) servings

1 pound Red La Soda potatoes cut into medium cubes
Olive Oil, sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 cup chopped Purslane
1/4 cup thinly sliced red onion
1/4 cup chopped red bell pepper

Dressing
1/4 cup grain Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon honey
1 tablespoon seasoned rice wine vinegar

Place the potatoes in a large pot of water and bring to boil. Cook about 15 minutes or until the potatoes have softened. Drain.

In a large mixing bowl combine the potatoes, purslane, onion and peppers. In a small bowl combine the mustard, honey and vinegar. Add the dressing to the salad and mix well.

Verdolaga (Purslane) and Walnut Pilaf

Lorraine Glazar, Tucson CSA

1 small to medium onion, chopped
2 teaspoons oil
1 cup rice
2 cups water, stock or broth
1 share verdolagas, washed and chopped
1/2 cup toasted walnuts
Salt and pepper to taste

Sauté the chopped onion in the oil until golden. Toss the rice in the pan until it is coated with oil. Add the liquid of choice and bring to a boil. Cover the pan and cook until all liquid is absorbed, 20 minutes to an hour (brown rice will take longer and may require a little more liquid). When rice is tender, toss in verdolagas and walnuts, season to taste, and serve it forth!

Adapted from a recipe in Sunset Magazine, June 2008 issue.

I’m very pleased to introduce my second guest blogger this week. Her name is Mary Griggs and she has an awesome food blog―very cleverly called Mouth Brothels―where she talks about all things food-related (a woman after my own heart) and offers fabulous restaurant reviews. She’s done me the honor of writing something up, so let’s get to it. Here’s Mary with her blog (and recipes) on grits.

Grits

I want to thank Roberta for this opportunity to guest blog for her. My topic is a quintessential American food―grits.  Made from hominy (the dry kernel of corn after the hull and germ have been removed), they were actually one of the first foods given by the Native Americans to the European colonists.

The difference between grits and polenta comes from the type of cornstarch

Photo by Ernesto Andrade

in the kernel. Grits are made from dent corn, while polenta comes from flint corn. This New World crop arrived in Italy during the 16^th century. Because corn was plentiful and cheap, treasure hunters used flint corn meal in the hold of their ships to hide gold from pirates on the high seas. It is believed that, during a famine, people in Spain, Portugal and Italy began using the packing material for food. What began as desperation rations later became part of the cuisine.

Grits aren’t just for breakfast, although nothing beats some creamy grits to start the day. No, this dish is a good accompaniment to the main course, whether it is animal, vegetable or seafood.

Here is a basic recipe for grits and one of the best ways to enjoy grits at dinner. For the best flavor, always use old-fashioned and NOT quick-cooking grits.

Creamy Grits

3 cups milk
3 cups heavy cream or half & half or water
1 cup old-fashioned grits
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Place the milk and cream in a 3-quart saucepan. Turn heat to medium-high and slowly whisk in the grits. Continue stirring while the liquid comes to a boil. When the grits begin to bubble, turn the heat down to medium-low and simmer, stirring frequently with a wooden spoon. Allow to cook for 10 to 15 minutes, until the mixture is smooth and thick. Remove from heat and stir in the butter. Season with salt and pepper.

Mushroom Grillades (pronounced gree-odds)

2 tablespoons plus 1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 lb Portobello mushrooms, sliced and stems removed
1/2 lb shiitake mushrooms, sliced and stems removed
1/2 lb button mushrooms, sliced and stems removed
1 T Creole Seasoning
Salt and pepper
1/2 cup flour
1 large onion, chopped
1 bell pepper, chopped
2 stalks celery, chopped
1 bunch green onions, chopped with white and green parts divided
3 large cloves garlic, minced
1 14.5-ounce can diced tomatoes
2 cups mushroom stock or water
1/2 cup red wine
Salt, freshly ground pepper and Creole seasoning to taste
2 bay leaves
1/2 teaspoon thyme
Few dashes Tabasco
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1/4 cup chopped fresh flat-leafed parsley

Mushroom stock:

Place mushroom stems in a pot with 4 cups water. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer for 25 to 30 minutes. Remove stems and reduce liquid by half. You should have about 2 cups of mushroom stock.

Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a large, heavy Dutch oven—cast iron is best. Rinse mushrooms and sprinkle with Creole seasoning. Saute mushrooms with salt and pepper until liquid has been released. Remove from pot. Add 1/2 cup of oil to pot and stir in flour to make a roux. Stir constantly over medium heat until roux is dark brown but not burned―takes at least 20 minutes. Immediately add onion, bell pepper, celery and white part of green onions. Reduce heat and cook for a few minutes, stirring. Add garlic, cook for another minute. Add mushrooms and then stir in tomatoes, stock and wine. Add remainder of ingredients except green onion tops and parsley and stir well. Simmer, covered, about 1 and 1/2 to 2 hours, stirring occasionally. When finished, add 1/4 cup green onion tops and parsley. Serve over grits.

I hope you enjoy these recipes and start to make grits a regular player at the table.

Bon Temps et Bon Appetit!

Check out my restaurant and food blog at:  Mouth Brothels

My website is: www.marygriggs.com

Now, here’s the main show: Mamey.

I’ve never had a mamey. There are two reasons for this:

1)      They’re very hard to find. You definitely won’t find them outside of a Latin/Hispanic (or, occasionally, Asian) market, but even then, there’s no guarantee you’ll find them. The markets in my neighborhood cater to a Latin community and they still don’t carry them.

2)      They’re expensive.

The mamey (pronounced mah-mee, like “mommy”) for me has been one of those elusive things that I always knew I’d pounce on if I was every lucky enough to spot it. (And mangosteens. But that’s another discussion.) My interest was especially piqued when I saw celebrity chef Daisy Martinez use them on her TV show, Daisy Cooks.

While frozen mamey pulp has been available, fresh mamey has been notoriously difficult to find. I haven’t been able to find out why. (Although I read somewhere that U.S. government tight-asses screamed like little girls when they found out that the mamey pit is considered to be some sort of narcotic or toxin or something. Pansies.) But, happily, the era of mamey embargo seems to be coming to an end.

Eureka!

I just started a job in April. I have a really long-ass commute and I hate it, particularly since I commuted from Brooklyn to Jersey City for almost 15 years (bear with me, there’s a point to this). I’m really over long-haul commutes. But one good thing about where I now work is that it’s smack in the middle of a thriving Latin community, comprising numerous Central and South American cultures, and markets abound to cater to them. For a foodie like me, it’s paradise having access to multicultural ingredients like that.

When I first started this job, I went exploring in the neighborhood and fell in love with one particular market, which had not only ingredients essential to Latin cuisine but excellent prices as well. It was there that I spotted the elusive mamey sapote, and my eyes bugged out. Unfortunately, I was pretty broke at the time and simply couldn’t afford the hefty price of $5.99 a pound. And because mameys are heavy fruits, and these were pretty big specimens, I knew I’d be looking a nice amount of money. I continued seeing them there, but they started to look not-so-fresh. With each passing week, they looked worse and worse. Then, yesterday, I went to get myself a mango and some bananas and, lo! A fresh batch of mameys! Some small ones, too. And I had money in my pocket. (Still, at $5.99/lb., and with my other purchases, I blew my whole wad!)

But What Is a Mamey?

Mamey, also called sapote or pouteria, comes from the mamey sapote tree. Its skin is brown and somewhat rough and slightly bumpy, but its flesh is orange, creamy, and sweet. It’s reminiscent of papaya in both color and flavor. The flavor, however, has a potato-y edge, and, in fact, it has been likened to sweet potato, which I concur. The texture is smooth, but with a subtle graininess to it, lending to it potato-iness (I just made that up). Some people have said that it reminds them of sweet potatoe pie and pumpkin pie. Someone even said it reminds them of vanilla ice cream with a little pumpkin added. I don’t know about that last one, but can see the pumpkin analogy.

Photo by Fibonacci

Mamey is eaten raw, but is also very popular in smoothies and shakes, as well as ice cream and in baked goods. If you’re lucky enough to spot them, look for fruit that is smooth and unblemished. By that, I mean there shouldn’t be any soft/mushy dents, mold or discolored parts. And it should not be confused with a mammee apple, which is similar looking but is not the same thing. However, I don’t think you’ll have this problem―as hard as it is to find mameys, it’s probably twice as hard to find mammee apples (picture here).

A ripe mamey yields a bit when you press into it. I think mine was half ripe. Half of it was soft, while the other half was as hard as rock. It has an interesting pit in the center―oblong and smooth, and its shape rather reminded me of a closed mussel shell. It’s actually quite pretty. But it’s useful, too. The seeds have been used to make insecticide and treatments for parasitic skin diseases.

I Like My Fruit to Do Double Time

Okay, that’s cool. Because mameys, like so many other fruits, do other things for you besides make you go, mmmm. It’s high in vitamins A and C and potassium, and is an excellent source of dietary fiber and calcium. It’s been used for stomach ailments, headaches, venereal disease, and as an antiseptic.

So, here’s the good news: Because so many Latin Americans use mamey in their cuisine, the demand for it is heralding a wide-spread introduction to mameys, and it’s very possible that mameys might be coming to a store near YOU!

And because I like to be optimistic about these things, I’m giving you a few mamey recipes to try out. I made a batido (milkshake) with mine. I used soymilk and it came out yummy. I topped it off with a tropical drink umbrella to make it more festive. (Okay, so I keep little drink umbrellas around. So?)

Keep in mind that you can use frozen mamey pulp for these recipes instead of fresh, so look for it in Latin markets and well-stocked supermarkets. Let me know what you think. Until then, happy summer, happy Van Duzer Days, and ENJOY!

Frozen Mamey Sapote Mousse

1 cup mamey pulp
¾ cup sugar
1 envelope gelatin
½ cup cold water
½ cup boiling water
2 cups heavy cream
½ tsp salt

Rub fruit through a sieve or put through a food mill to remove any fiber. Mix sugar and salt with fruit pulp. Soak gelatin in cold water, then dissolve in the boiling water. Blend with fruit mixture. Chill until mixture thickens, then whip until light. Whip the heavy cream until stiff and fold into mamey mixture. Freeze.

Recipe courtesy of Virtual Herbarium

Mamey Muffins

Yield: 24 mini muffins

2 Florida eggs
1 1/4 cups Florida sugar
2 cups mamey, peeled, seeded and pureed
1 1/2 cup Florida milk
1 1/2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon ginger
1/4 cup Florida pecans, chopped
1/4 cup butter, softened
1/4 cup brown sugar

Beat together eggs and sugar. Add mamey and milk. Mix together flour, soda and spices and add to mamey mixture.

In a separate bowl, mix together pecans, butter and sugar. Drop mamey batter into greased mini muffin tins and top each with a teaspoon of pecan mixture.

Bake in a preheated 350 degree oven for 20 minutes or until done.

Recipe courtesy of the Florida Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services

Batido de Mamey

Cuban Milk Shakes

1 cup whole milk
3 tablespoons sweetened condensed milk
3 tablespoons sugar (to taste)
1 cup fresh ripe mamey cubed (You may subsitute frozen mamey pulp, available in many Latin markets.)
1/2 cup crushed ice

Put everything in the blender except the ice and process until frothy. Add the crushed ice and process until the ice is ground fine and the batido is thick and rich. NOTE: The condensed milk is a very Cuban addition. You may omit this ingredient to your taste.

Recipe courtesy of Three Guys from Cuba

My family celebrates Easter and I always remember that day as being filled with the sights and smells of incredible food. Two of the traditional Easter main dishes for Italian families are lamb and goat. (I could never bring myself to eat either, but I’ve been told that goat has a milder flavor and aroma than lamb.) Along with that, we would have an array of antipasti (appetizers), pasta (of course), and side dishes.

The antipasti usually consisted of artichoke hearts, mozzarella, roasted peppers, olives, cheeses, marinated mushrooms, dried sausage, Insalata Caprese (tomato and mozzarella salad), salami, prosciutto, and stuffed mushrooms.

The main course was accompanied by such things as mushrooms and peas, broccoli raab,  stuffed peppers roasted potatoes, eggplant parmesan, stuffed artichokes, and various types of bread.

But Easter, like many other holidays, is also accompanied by “signature” desserts. After the last of the meal is gone and people have had time to loosen their belts for a bit, Italians are ready to indulge in the traditional desserts of panettone (big bread), pandoro (golden bread), and especially la colomba (the dove). Panettone and pandoro are also enjoyed at Christmas, but the colomba (sometimes called Colomba Pasquale, or Easter dove) is exclusively for Easter. They’re all fluffy, light, egg-based cakes, but the difference between them is the added ingredients: panettone usually includes citron, candied fruit, and raisins; the colomba usually has only candied fruit and is topped with sugar and almonds; and the pandoro is nothing but cake, but is topped with powdered sugar.

Panettone

The significance of the colomba is a message of peace, the dove being the symbol of peace. In the Catholic faith, it also symbolizes the Holy Spirit. It’s been around for centuries and, consequently, numerous stories exist about the origin of the cake. There are several popular stories, but each is an off-shoot of the other and blends history with romance and folklore.

Pandoro

One version goes that in the 12^th century, Emperor Frederico I, also known as Barbarossa (Red Beard), invaded and conquered the Italian city of Pavia and was crowned King of Italy there in 1154. He demanded that all the virgins of the city were brought to him, after which he’d destroy the city. Barbarossa was known to love dove hunting, so the people of Pavia asked all the bakers of the town to bake a cake in the shape of a dove. Each virgin girl was given a cake to present to the Emperor. After he’d tasted them all, he was so full and satisfied that he softened his position and freed the virgins and let the city of Pavia stand.

A variation on this has the origin at a few centuries before, the 6th, when King

Barbarossa

Alboino was terrorizing Pavia and demanded 12 young virgins (these guys have got to stop with the virgins!). One young woman made a cake in the shape of a dove to symbolize both purity and peace and presented it to the king. The king was so touched by the gesture that he had a change of heart about his decree.

Yet another story tells us that the people of Milan saw three doves fly from a church during Battle of Legnano in Lombardy against Barbarossa. They believed it was this event that sparked their victory over Barbarossa. The Milanesi celebrated throughout the years by eating the Colomba cake, with its delicate texture and golden crust.

Here’s a recipe for a Colomba, from Academia Barilla. Let me know if you give it a try and what you think.

Have a great holiday, everyone. And more than ever…peace.

Whether you prefer Wise’s Cheez Doodles or Frito Lay’s Cheetos, or those little, round orangy balls that they sell in those gigantic plastic tubs and try to pass off as cheese doodles, this is a snack food that seems to live on and on. It’s associated with kids’ parties and backyard barbecues, and if you serve it at a party, it’s considered (pardon the pun) cheesy. Yet, we can’t help ourselves, can we? I don’t know about you, but I find it impossible to control my hand when it reaches for the bowl of the bright orange oddities. No matter how good my intentions are when I go to a party, no matter how determined I am to stick to the crudites and fruit salad, my hand just moves away from my body and makes a beeline for those cheese doodles. Damn hand! It’s all your fault I have weight issues!

Personally, my favorite kind are the crunchy ones. Sure, I like the puffy kind now and then. But put those crunchy things in front of me and I’m in trouble. And if I’m PMSing, those suckers don’t stand a chance around me.

How are cheese doodles made? It has to do with pushing the ingredients through an extractor, thereby adding air to it. But that leaves the question of crunchy cheese doodles open. Hmm. I’ll have to investigate that.

Let’s face it, cheese doodles have become part of our culture. I’m not sure why, but they have. I think a generation of kids have grown up thinking that cheese is spelled “cheez.” And that Chester Cheetah over at Frito Lay is one bad ass, huh?

Have you ever seen a cheese doodle sculpture? Has it ever entered your mind to do a cheese doodle sculpture? Probably not. But it did enter the mind of artist Philip Greenspun. So, he did it. And it was displayed at the Lapides Gallery in Santa Fe, NM, in 1994. Check it out.

Courtesy of Philip Greenspun

Wanna see a Cheetos portrait of Conan O’Brien? Here’s the artist in action:

Check out this cheese doodle compilation. It’s weird but fascinating: Tribute to the Cheese Snack

So, another week has gone by  and so has another month. I hope everyone has a great week ahead. And in the immortal words of Eric Cartman from South Park, “I want some cheesy poofs!”

By: André Karwath aka Aka

Umm, have you guessed the theme yet? That’s right, you’ve won the prize. It’s chocolate! That’s because February is Celebration of Chocolate Month, all hinged on one day: St. Valentine’s Day, this Sunday. (Incidentally, February 14 is specifically National Creme-Filled Chocolates Day. Gee, I wonder why.)
Chocolate has a fascinating history, beginning in the New World. Native to Central and South America, chocolate has been used since at least 1100 B.C. The word “chocolate” comes from the Aztec Nuahatl word xocolatl, meaning “bitter water.” This was a ceremonial drink that the Aztecs made by  mixing chocolate paste with herbs and spices and shaking it in a hollowed-out gourd until it frothed. More directly, “chocolate” comes from a combination of Nahuatl and Mayan dialects for the term “cacao water,” chocolatl. They also used cacao medicinally and called chocolate “food of the gods.”

Cacao pods

[Excerpt from What, No Meat?]
In 1502, Columbus sent cacao beans back to Spain but no one took an interest, most likely because of their bitterness. In 1519, however, explorer Hernando Cortez tasted the Aztec drink and sent the beans once again to Spain. The beans found their way to a monastery where monks added sugar to it. It became a hit, but the details of chocolate-making were kept secret until the Jews were driven out of Spain in the mid-1500s. They went to France and shared the Spanish monks’ secret. French royalty took a liking to it and, naturally, it became elite. It was so expensive that a smuggling ring began in England and Holland to bring in beans illegally from Venezuela. Exclusive “chocolate clubs” opened up where the rich could indulge in it, and it was even used as currency. In 1847, British confectioners added sugar to cocoa and invented the chocolate bar. In 1876, a Swiss, Daniel Peter, invented  milk chocolate for eating after eight years of experimenting.

Where Chocolate Comes From

Chocolate literally grows on trees in cacao pods. After they are harvested, the beans and pulp are removed from the pod, then allowed to ferment.  Here is a further explanation of the process from Wikipedia:

Dried cacao pods

“After fermentation, the beans are dried, cleaned, and roasted, and the shell is removed to produce cacao nibs. The nibs are then ground to cocoa mass, pure chocolate in rough form. Because this cocoa mass usually is liquefied then molded with or without other ingredients, it is called chocolate liquor. The liquor also may be processed into two components: cocoa solids and cocoa butter. Unsweetened baking chocolate (bitter chocolate) contains primarily cocoa solids and cocoa butter in varying proportions. Much of the chocolate consumed today is in the form of sweet chocolate, combining cocoa solids, cocoa butter or other fat, and sugar. Milk chocolate is sweet chocolate that additionally contains milk powder or condensed milk. White chocolate contains cocoa butter, sugar, and milk but no cocoa solids (and thus does not qualify to be considered true chocolate).”

It’s appropriate that chocolate has become so associated with Valentine’s Day because it is believed that chocolate has the same effect on the brain as falling in love and is, therefore, considered an aphrodisiac. And studies have shown that eating chocolate lowers the risk of fatal heart attacks. I mean, come on, if that’s not a reason to eat chocolate, what is?

Keep an eye out on news in the chocolate world. One of these days, you  may end up buying something other than what you wanted. In 2007, the Grocery Manufacturers Association (GMS), on behalf of the Chocolate Manufacturers Association in the United States, petitioned the FDA to allow them to use vegetable fats and milk substitutes instead of real cocoa butter and milk products, yet still call the end product “chocolate.” The most well-known members of this group are Hershey (the largest chocolate manufacturer in the U.S.), Nestle, and Archer Daniels Midland, an agricultural conglomerate. The FDA rejected the petition, so our chocolate is safe for now. But anything can change. You can read the story Here or for a bunch of links, go HERE.

In the meantime, enjoy the yumminess that is chocolate. No one needs an excuse to buy chocolate, but St. Valentine’s Day is a good one anyway. Mind you, National Celebration of Chocolate Month and National Creme-Filled Chocolates Day are not the only chocolate holidays. No, no, no. Here’s a list of a few more:

February 19                          Chocolate Mint Day
March 24                                National Chocolate-Covered Raisins Day
April 21                                   National Chocolate-Covered Cashews Day
May 15 & August 4                    National Chocolate Chip Day
June 22                                   National Chocolate Éclair Day
June 26                                   National Chocolate Pudding Day
July 7                                      National Chocolate Ice Cream Day
July 28                                    National Chocolate Milk Day
Sep 13                                     International Chocolate Day
October 28,
December 28 and 29             National Chocolate Day
November 7                       National Bittersweet Chocolate With Almonds Day
Dec 16                                   National Chocolate-Covered Anything Day
3^rd Week March                American Chocolate Week

Oh, yeah! Chocolate all year long! And that’s just in the United States. Wooo!

And to get you started, here’s a recipe for Chocolate Hazelnut Mousse (with my approximate American conversions), from JustChocolateRecipes.com. Enjoy!

Valentine's Day card, 1910

Until next week, have a great Valentine’s Day, everyone.

Chocolate Hazelnut Mousse

250 g Dark chocolate (1 cup + 1 tbsp)
5 lg Eggs, whites and yolks separated
1 tsp Orange rind (grated) and extra for garnish
2 tb Roasted hazelnuts or pecan nuts (lightly crushed)
1 tb Caster sugar (“superfine” in the U.S.; otherwise, use confectioners’ sugar)
pinch Cream of tartar

Melt the chocolate in a bowl over a saucepan of hot water. Once melted, remove and allow to cool a little.

Add egg yolks, one at a time, and mix in. Add in orange rind.

Beat egg whites, caster sugar and cream of tartar until it forms soft peaks and fold into the chocolate mixture. Add roasted pecan or hazelnuts.

Pour the mixture into individual bowls and refrigerate. Serve with sour cream, mint and grated orange rind.

Anyway, on with the show.

This week,  I want to talk about appetizers. It’s a pretty broad subject, I know, but they’ve been a part of my daily existence for the past year. Allow me to explain.

My next cookbook is going to focus on appetizers, so almost every day I have been testing at least one appetizer. The thing is, when you’re testing a recipe, you have to test it exactly as it’s going to appear in the final recipe, including ingredients and quantities. In other words, if you’re developing a recipe for turkey chili with red beans and zucchini (yeah, zucchini.  so?), you can’t substitute pork and chick peas in the testing and then use cauliflower because they were out of zucchini at the market. Everything cooks up differently, at different times, with different results. You won’t know what your end product will be and that could cause dissatisfaction in your readers. Your recipes must work as written. Where quantities are concerned, again, you need to use the same quantities as stated in the ingredients list of the recipe, otherwise, you may end up with a different yield. So, your readers might be expecting 4 servings and end up with only 3, or 10. And not all recipes are amenable to being doubled or halved.

Why is this a problem for me? Because if I’m developing a recipe for appetizers, it’s going to be for at least 6 people. Appetizers can be fun and delicious, but I must say, one can only eat so many appetizers. It’s gotten so that I’m sick of my own food. I give away a lot of food. A lot. The other night, I asked a friend if he’d like to go get Chinese food. I couldn’t stand the thought of eating my own food again. I was already cooking a couple of things that night, mind you, but I just couldn’t bring myself to eat them. I finished cooking, packed it all up, and went out.

Don’t get me wrong. My food isn’t bad. In fact, if my family and friends are to be believed (not to mention my personal chef clients), I’m pretty good at this cooking thing. But sometimes I just need someone else’s food.

Anyway, back to appetizers. Appetizers have existed since ancient times. Here’s what I wrote about appetizers—or antipasti in Italian—in my cookbook, What, No Meat?:

One of the trademarks of an Italian meal is the antipasto (appetizers or hors d’oeuvres). Contrary to popular belief, antipasto does not mean “before the pasta.” It means “before the meal.” Pasto (meal) comes from the Latin word pastus, meaning “food.” The ancient Athenians actually invented the concept of appetizers; unfortunately for their guests, it was the only course they would serve. Other Greeks felt that this was a sign of cheapness because, as Lynceus put it, “such a layout as that may seem to offer variety, but is nothing at all to satisfy the belly.”

The ancient Romans began having true antipasto in the 3rd century B.C. and continued having this premeal course through the 4th century A.D. It included items that are still considered appetizers today, such as olives and a primitive pizza (think of the focaccia on the table at your favorite Italian restaurant).

During the Dark Ages, meals were more for sustenance than enjoyment, so antipasto had no place in it. During the Plague of the 14th century, one was lucky to get a meal at all, let alone appetizers. With the onset of the Renaissance, admiration for beauty and art was reborn and appreciation of food for its own sake reemerged. Appetizers came back in style and have remained with us to this day.

After I finish all this testing, I’m going on a diet. Maybe even a fast. Parties are fun, but parties every day become a bore (how does Paris Hilton do it, poor thing?). But I don’t want anyone to lose interest in the subject. Appetizers are creative little dishes that guests remember the next day and for days to come.

As Saki (writer H.H. Munro) wrote in “Reginald at the Carlton”:

Hors d’oeuvres…remind me of one’s childhood that one goes through considering what the next course is going to be like—and during the rest of the menu one wishes one had eaten more of the hors d’oeuvres.

Have a great week, everyone! And stay away from those viruses.

Okay, let’s get into it.

Recently, I had a friend visit me from out of town. She wanted to visit the Tenement Museum on the Lower East Side. That area of Manhattan is steeped in immigrant history and the Tenement Museum on Orchard Street brings visitors back to a time of really brutal living, before housing laws and the provision by landlords of basic human needs. They offer several different tours in actual tenement apartments. Poking around the restored turn-of-the-20th-century apartments, with its tiny, airless, windowless, dark rooms, makes you appreciate modern living conditions (assuming you’re lucky enough to have a place with several decent-sized rooms, light, heat, and indoor plumbing).

Anyway, as long as we were in that area of town, I decided to plan a day around it. We visited Babycakes, a bakery that specializes in organic, natural baked goodies that are gluten-free and vegan, and often soy-free. (See the Babycakes page under “Foodie Places to Check Out” on the right.) (By the way, the founder of  Babycakes made a book trailer for a cookbook by the same name. It’s pretty cute and worth taking a look HERE.)

We also picked up several knishes at Yonah Schimmel’s Knish Bakery on East Houston Street, which has been there since 1910 (more on that in a future post). We browsed the shelves of Bluestockings, a radical bookstore and activist center on Allen Street. We ended our day with a pizza dinner at Lombardi’s on Spring Street. Why is that so special? Because Lombardi’s is credited as being the very first pizzaria, not only in New York but in the U.S.

Established in 1905 by Gennaro Lombardi, an Italian immigrant, Lombardi’s is a sit-down pizzaria—in other words, unlike most pizzarias, there are restaurant-style tables, and it’s so popular with tourists and natives alike that you have to check in with the maitre d’ at the front, and it’s quite possible that you’ll need to wait a bit for a table. The menu is quite basic. They offer a small and large pizza (no individual slices) of either their “Original” pizza (marinara sauce and fresh mozzarella), or a “White” pizza (mozzarella, ricotta, romano cheese, no sauce), and optional toppings. You can also order a calzone or one of four appetizers and salads: house salad, Caesar salad, tomato and mozzarella plate, or bread sticks and sauce. And that’s it. But that’s all they need to sell, because they do a brisk business. It’s good to be a legend. (For more on Lombardi’s history, click HERE.)

Their prices are what you’d might expect from a place that caters to tourists. As of this writing, a large (18-inch) original pizza, which yields 8 slices, is $19.50; a small (14-inch) pizza, yielding 6 slices, is $15.50. A large white pizza is $21.50; a small is $17.50. The toppings are a little painful, at $3.00 for one and up to $8.00 for 5. Probably the most excrutiating price on the menu is the tomato and mozzarella plate, which comes in at $10.95. It’s a bit on the pricey side, but not exhorbitant and perfectly acceptable for an occasional visit with out-of-town guests, a special occasion, or just for the fun of it.

Is it all worth it? Well, the day my friend and I went in, I found the sauce in need of a little salt, but it might be absolutely perfect on other days. I liked the fact that they used fresh mozzarella instead of the packaged supermarket stuff. Really, the best thing about Lombardi’s pizza is the crust. The pizza is baked in a brick oven, giving the crust a smoky flavor, a crisp crunch, and beautiful charred appearance. If you’re ever in New York, it’s really worth a stop in for lunch or dinner. And it’s just paces away from the history-rich Little Italy, Chinatown, and Lower East Side.

They’re open 7 days a week, with reservations available Monday through Thursday. Be aware if you do go, however, that they accept cash only.

And to indulge in your love of pizza even further, you can go on a pizza tour. Yes, a pizza tour. Scott’s Pizza Tours will take you on either a bus or walking tour of some of the most legendary pizzarias in New York, starting from Little Italy and going into Greenwich Village on the walking tour, and Brooklyn, Queens, and the Bronx on the bus tour. They can be reached at 212-209-3370 or 1-800-979-3370.

According to the title of this blog post, I promised you some pizza history, so here’s an excerpt from the introduction to the pizza section of my book, What, No Meat? Traditional Italian Cooking the Vegetarian Way, which I’m hoping will be reissued shortly. It’s late. Way late.

Virtually every culture in the world has one form of pizza or another. In the last couple of decades it has even found its way to the most culturally isolated countries. You probably knew that pizza is an Italian creation, but did you know that it goes back to the ancient Romans? The Romans made what they called moretum, a plain baked piece of dough that they ate with onions. Near the beginning of the 2nd second century A.D., the word picea entered the language to describe a piece of round dough dressed with various toppings, perhaps influenced by the Greek word pièzo, “to flatten.” It finally became pizza soon after. (Sauce didn’t enter the picture until the 18th century.)

            The pizza that we know today was created in Naples in 1535 in honor of the marriage of Bona Sforza to Sizismondo I, King of Poland. Despite its grand origin, it became a food for common folk. Pizzerias started out as little holes-in-the-wall, selling pizza to the local peasants. As pizza’s popularity grew, pizzaiuoli (pizza-makers) began adding tables and chairs to entice people to enter. Little by little, they began to decorate and beautify their establishments by putting in colorful tiles or fancy brickwork.

            Gennaro Lombardi opened the first pizzeria in the U.S. in New York in 1905. Over time, it became very popular and more pizzerias opened all across the country, becoming a favorite gathering place for people of all classes. Today, pizza is just as American as it is Italian. According to one urban legend, U.S. pizza is so popular that in the 1980s, college students in England ordered pizza to be shipped overseas. Papa John’s pizzeria filled the largest pizza order in history by delivering 13,500 pizzas in June of 2006. This surpasses the Guinness World Records champion, Little Caesar’s, who delivered 13,386 pizzas on August 19, 1998 to employees of  the VF Corp. of Greensboro, N.C. at 180 locations in the U.S.

            Americans have turned pizza making into an art form, reinventing it over and over, and have honored it by dubbing the second week of January National Pizza Week and September National Pizza Festival Month. And, reflective of people’s strong feelings about anchovies, November 12 is National Pizza With the Works Except Anchovies Day. But pizza is a worldwide commodity. In fact, the largest pizza ever made—122 feet, 8 inches in diameter—was in Norwood, South Africa in 1990.

            Neapolitans are very protective of their creation, so much so that there is an organization called Associazione Vera Pizza Napoletano (Association of True Neapolitan Pizza). This group, as you may have guessed, determines what is and what isn’t authentic Neapolitan pizza by defining the proper ingredients, the proper way of making the dough, and the proper cooking methods. Truth is, you can make pizza any way you wish. Follow your whim, put any toppings you feel like putting—just don’t let the Associazione catch you. 

 Hope you enjoyed that little romp through culinary history and that it deepened your appreciation of pizza—if that’s at all possible. Have a great week, all.