Nancy in Pátzcuaro

As a child I grew up with a mother who didn't like to cook, but she was an OK baker. Her technique was to break nuts by hand, which as haresfur said is quite meditative. If she was in a hurry she put nuts on the counter and crushed them with her hand. To this day that's what I do when a uniform consistency isn't necessary. I like the different sizes in something like banana bread. I also, though, have a Zyliss chopper that I bought years ago because I loved the name--Blitz Hacker, though I don't know if that's the correct spelling. It also reduces nuts to what I think is the right size with a minimum of nut dust. You just have to stop in time. Nancy in Pátzcuaro

Gosh, thank you all for the ideas. I am especially taken with the idea of freezing whole limes. Who'd have thunk it? I've already made a new batch of limoncello this year, though I still have preserved limes from last year--it's not something you use a lot of, though I have to remember them because they are quite useful in small amounts. And I'm definitely going to make lime marmelade. I do a lot of jam--fig, blackberry, tomato, mango--so it's not an unfamiliar process. And lime curd--yum. Unfortunately I don't have access to quinces, though I don't know why they don't grow around here. There are other parts of México where they grow in abundance. I am still open to more ideas, though. You can never have enough new ideas, I think. Thanks, all-- Nancy in Pátzcuaro

I have this problem every year--our little lime tree produces a couple hundred large seedless limes, and each year I struggle to preserve them. I've frozen a lot of juice and zest, made limoncello (in México limon is lime, lima is lemon--go figure), Indian lime pickle, candied lime slices. I'm thinking seriously of making lime jelly, as potentially disgusting as that sounds. So if anyone has an idea for something I haven't already done or thought of, please feel free to enlighten me. We've already given away 50 or 60, and now they're starting to drop off the tree, so the need is urgent. I'd really like a new idea. I realize most people don't have this kind of problem, and one of these days I'll be asking you about how to use avocados from our tree. At this point these limes are a lot like zucchini-- Thanks for your help-- Nancy in Pátzcuaro

When I clicked on the link for Mi Lola and the music started I immediately closed the window! Ugly-- I was curious since I now live in Pátzcuaro, Michoacán, which is about 45 minutes from Morelia. Mi Lola is a restaurant I'm not familiar with, and if the website is indicative of their philosophy I know the restaurant will remain one I'm not familiar with. I didn't stay in the website long enough to even find out where it's located. It is always a mistake to garbage up what could be a clean design. One of the problems with everyone having a computer and a boatload of type fonts is that people feel the need to use too many of them. And using those flowery script-type fonts should be illegal. You can't read 'em. Nancy in Pátzcuaro

Hello, everyone-- It's a cold, drizzly day here, just right for being in the kitchen and cooking something. I decided to give the ricotta with lime juice a try, and want to report that it worked just as well as it would have with lemon juice. I don't detect any noticeable lime flavor. The recipe I used is from a recent NY Times article--I made a half recipe, which amounts to about a cup of ricotta. The following has whole recipe quantities: 1 quart whole milk 1/2 c. heavy cream (I used evaporated milk--no cream in the house) 1/2 c. plain unsugared yogurt 1-1/2 tsp. lemon (lime) juice 1/2 tsp. salt Whisk together and heat gently until the curds separate from the whey, pour it through 4 layers of cheesecloth, drain, scrape out and enjoy. I am saving the whey for breadmaking this weekend. This will be permanently on my list of "things to do" from now on. Couldn't be easier. Thanks again for all your good suggestions. I knew I could count of the eGulleteers for advice! Nancy in Pátzcuaro

Thanks for those great suggestions--I'll look into them all. And Jaymes, I deliberately avoided using the word "smuggle," in my request! But you're absolutely right--that's what I would have to do. It wouldn't be the first time I've snuck something across the border... If I asked a local vivero to order a "limon verdad" I probably would get a lime, because "limon" is the word for "lime" and "lima" is the word for "lemon," at least here. Go figure. Our tree produces beautiful seedless limes in great quantities, so one tree is enough. I've used buttermilk to make fresh cheese in the past, but buttermilk is also hard to come by here. I have buttermilk powder that might work. But I think I'll try a small batch of ricotta with lime juice just to see if it works the same as lemon. I think what the lemon juice does is to separate the curds from the whey rather than provide any flavoring, but I could be mistaken. I'm off to experiment--I'll let you know how it works. Thanks again, everyone. Nancy in Pátzcuaro

I live in a small city in México, and because true lemons are almost unknown here I usually substitute lime juice for lemon in recipes. However, I wonder if there is a substantial difference in how they work, for example, when making fresh cheese. I'd like to make some fresh ricotta, and of course I don't have access to lemon juice. I suspect there's a difference in acidity between lemons and limes which could affect the outcome. There are fruits (limas) that look like lemons but are sweet with low acidity--they are eaten like oranges. If anyone can help me figure this out, I would be very grateful. We are driving to the US next month and I might try to bring in a small lemon tree, or if I can harvest a few seeds I could sprout them. I have plenty of limes from our tree, and last year I was scrambling to do as much as possible with them. Limoncello, preserved limes, Indian lime pickle, juice for the freezer--you name it, I tried it. And if you have suggestions for more ideas, please tell me. Thanks, everyone. Nancy in Patzcuaro

You could do a survey of "cemitas," a ubiquitous torta that is found everywhere in Puebla. A hard roll (and the quality of the bread is important), pork or beef, chile relleno or queso fresco, pickled chiles and finished off with some sort of herb that is essential to the flavor. If you have 2 weeks you can go from outdoor stand to small lonchería, because everyone seems to make them a little differently. And of course there's always mole poblano. Have fun! Puebla's a very interesting city, very historic and beautiful. Nancy in Pátzcuaro

Avocado Ice Cream Despite the name there's no cream or any other dairy product in this delicious dessert. I make it frequently. In fact right now I have a surplus of avocados that need to be used within the next day or 2, so I'll be making this soon. Hope you enjoy it as much as we do. 1 c. water 1/2 c. sugar 2 Tbs, fresh lime juice rind of one medium lime 2 small avocados, mashed pinch of salt Bring the water and sugar to a boil and stir until dissolved. Set aside to cool to room temperature. Combine the remaining ingredients in a food processor or blender and blend until smooth. Freeze. Nancy in Pátzcuaro

Oh, I don't know--I've always used a yeast crust for savory galettes. I like this one-- 2 tsp. active dry yeast 1/2 tsp. sugar 1/2 c. warm water 3 TBS. olive oil 1 egg, lightly beaten 3/8 tsp, salt 1-3/4 c. flour, more if needed Proof the yeast with the warm water and sugar until bubbly. Add the egg, oil, and salt, and then stir in the flour. When the dough is too stiff to mix with a spoon, turn out onto a lightly floured board and knead until smooth, about 4 minutes. (You can also do this in your food processor.) Set the dough aside in an oiled bowl, roll the dough around to coat it with oil, put a dish towel over it and let is stand until doubled, about 45 minutes to an hour depending on the temperature of your kitchen. Turn out and roll thin (this is important--otherwise your galette will be bready). Form your galette and bake. I like galettes because they are so simple to make, and this yeasted dough relieves you of the need to make pie crust dough. Basically you're making bread, with an egg, and that's so much easier than pie crust. You can also add dried herbs to complement the filling. Hope this works out for you-- Nancy in Pátzcuaro

Having grown tomatillos in Colorado at an altitude of 7200 feet, I can vouch for the fact that will grow pretty much everywhere. I planted a short row and by the time I was sick of them they had produced an incredible amount of fruit. The rule of thumb I used was to let the fruit fill out the husk before harvesting. That way they have the maximum amount of sugars in the fruit. I also recommend cutting off the flowering tops toward the end of the growing season so as to let the fruit already set on the plant mature. It's the same thing i did with tomatoes to save the energy in the plant. No need to set fruit if it's not going to finish. However, here in México, people tell me that they think the smallest fruits have the most flavor. I don't see the really big ones here--they range from grape sized to slightly larger than a golf ball. The ones I grew in Colorado were larger than that, and I can't say that I notice a big difference in flavor. The purple variety is local to México, I think. One of the things I appreciate about tomatillos is that they haven't been bred into uniformity. So when you get some that are kinda purple, it means that this shares some genetics with the Mexican strain. They are pretty seedy, though. You can always recognize a tomatillo salsa by the seeds. While a molcajete is traditional, most people in México will opt for the better solution, which is a blender or food processor. Tomatillos are pretty juicy and unless you have a very large molcajete they will squirt all over the place. Have fun with them. It's not always that you have an ingredient with that kind of history. Nancy in Pátzcuaro

Pátzcuaro and the surrounding area are indeed fascinating, especially at this time of year when we're getting ready for Muertos on Nov. 1. Pátzcuaro is Noche de Muertos Central, and the town is starting to fill up with visitors from all over México. Here are two recipes, one cooked and one raw. The cooked version is more of a "sauce" and the raw more of a "salsa." In Spanish "salsa" means sauce, but for our purposes I'll make the distinction. Tomatillos are called "tomate verde" here. Salsa de Tomato Verde Cruda (raw) 1/2 pound tomatillos, papery husk removed and rinsed 1 clove garlic, peeled and finely chopped 4 chiles serranos (or to taste), seeds and membranes removed and finely chopped salt 2 Tbs. finely chopped white onion 2 Tbs. roughly chopped fresh cilantro Coarsely chop the tomatillos (I use a food process for this), and mix with the rest of the ingredients. Tomatillos throw off a lot of moisture, so I generally don't add the salt until I'm ready to serve it. Depending on your tomatillos, you may even want to drain off all the moisture before salting. Serve at room temperature with chips. Salsa de Tomate Verde Cocida (cooked) 1 pound tomatillos, papery husk removed and rinsed 4 chiles serrano (or to taste), seeds removed and quartered 2-3 Tbs. finely chopped white onion 1 clove garlic, peeled and finely chopped Salt 2 Tbs. oil Put the tomatillos in a saucepan with the chiles and water to cover. Cook over a medium flame for 5 minutes after the water reaches a simmer. Transfer the tomatillos and chiles with some of the cooking water to a food processor or blender and process with the rest of the ingredients until smooth. Heat the oil in a frying pan and cook the sauce over medium heat, stirring, until slightly reduced, about 5-10 minutes. This can be frozen or used immediately as a sauce for pork or chicken. By the way, these are both recipes from Diana Kennedy, the champion of authentic Mexican cooking. I've made them both and I think the cooked sauce is more useful, especially for storage purposes. In any case I've never had the raw salsa in a restaurant or private home, which doesn't mean it doesn't exist. Nancy in Pátzcuaro

A few years ago I tried growing tomatillos in my Colorado garden (at 7,000 feet it can be as challenging as your cool wet summer). They were prolific, trouble-free, and yes, messy. If you try growing them again, cut off the growing tops toward the end of summer so that fruit that's already growing can mature completely (this is something that also works for tomatoes). I found no significant difference between the ones that were bursting out of their husks and the ones that hadn't quite "finished." I turned them into a green sauce that I froze for use in the middle of winter. In that case I boiled them, which has the advantage of cooking them and getting rid of the sticky film at the same time. As I recall a short row (5 feet long) produced more than enough tomatillos for our use. In fact if it hadn't frozen early that year I would have pulled the darned things up just to make them stop. I never had enough freezer space to freeze them whole, cooked or raw, and found that turning them into something like a sauce made better use of the available space. I live in México now, so I have no need to grow them myself since they're readily available in the mercado. Mexicans feel that the small ones have the best flavor, but most of us don't have the patience required to peel husks off small ones. Most Mexicans boil them or toast them on a comal but rarely use them raw. Nancy in Pátzcuaro

I just read this thread, so forgive me if I am late to the party. I've had a heavy rolled steel omelet pan--never used for anything else--for well over 40 years. I think there may have been a name stamped on the bottom but it has worn off long before. It's about 8-1/2", has a nice long handle that doesn't get hot, and a flat bottom with curved sides that are perfect for rolling out a 2-egg omelet. By now it's so well seasoned that all I have to do is give it a quick rinse and wipe it out. And like many people I bought it in the 1970s under the influence of Julia Child's "The French Chef." Starting with a dab of butter--about a teaspoon--I dump in the beaten eggs, stir them around a bit with a fork, lift the edges to let uncooked egg flow underneath until the top is still moist and slightly runny, add the filling (if any), fold it and roll it out onto a plate. Easy peasy. I like a soft omelet, which is why so many restaurant versions are so disappointing. I don't like non-stick pans, and my husband who is the main dishwasher doesn't either. He says, give me a pan I can scrub. I keep thinking I'm eating the non-stick surface along with the food. My dos pesos-- Nancy in Pátzcuaro

I used the lobster mushrooms I cooked yesterday, combined with onion and chopped bacon, for a pizza. These are big, meaty mushrooms that hold their own with the bacon and onion. A favorite way to cook chanterelles is with bacon and onion, so I thought these would benefit from that treatment. And I was right. Very tasty. Nancy in Pátzcuaro, Michoacán

Lobster mushrooms are just starting to show up in our mercado, and yesterday I bought a small amount to try. I just finished sauteing them in butter with salt and will probably pair them with pasta. I was amazed at how much liquid they produced, and the interesting reddish color the butter turned while they were cooking. We are old hands at mushroom foraging but this is a new one for us. I suspect the host mushroom is a russula since they didn't exude any latex when I cut them up. So now I'm doing the usual test to determine if I can tolerate them--there are some very edible mushrooms that make my throat itch--by chewing a piece and spitting it out. The next step is to eat another piece and swallow it. If all goes well I can eat that mushroom--or at least the mushroom underneath the parasitic organism. In future I'm going to try to pick out the mushrooms I want rather than letting the vendor do it for me. Some of the ones I bought were wormy and spongy, plus they were very hard to clean. I don't subscribe to the theory that you shouldn't wash mushrooms, so I cleaned them as best I could under running water. When we gathered chanterelles and porcini in Colorado we tried very hard to keep them clean at the source so we wouldn't have to do so much clean-up in the kitchen, but even then we needed to wash them at least a little bit. Nancy in Pátzcuaro, Michoacán

Thanks to all of you for all your good suggestions. I've been very gratified to get so many great ideas. Since I don't drink red wine--I think the tannins doesn't agree with me--I guess I won't worry about "Pine Mouth," but I should warm my spouse that he's in danger. As far as I know, though, he's never had any reaction. I especially like the little cheese balls rolled in chopped pine nuts--that's going to show up as an appetizer very soon. Nancy in Pátzcuaro

I finally succumbed and bought a package of pine nuts at Costco the other day. The price is enough to induce cardiac arrest, but I'm resigned to it. They are now in the freezer to preserve freshness. I intend to have them around for a long, long time, given that price. Now that I have a supply, I'm in the market for interesting recipes. If any of you eGulleteers have a favorite use please post them. Bear in mind that I'm in México, in a small city, and availability of unusual ingredients is limited. I have access to a magnificent mercado, but for the most part the produce is commonplace. I'm starting to see much more eggplant, and a couple of stalls have fresh ginger, and the mangos are starting to show up again (thank goodness), but I don't think I'll ever find radicchio or baby bok choy. Thanks for your help. I'd like to do a dinner party with at least one component using pine nuts. Nancy in Pátzcuaro

"BTW, according to my brother the Ukrainian definition of eternity is 'two people with a ham'. :biggrin:" Actually, I think that was Dorothy Parker. Nancy in Pátzcuaro

For Thanksgiving I made 2 turkeys and a ham--one turkey was traditional and the other was with mole sauce--and I did the ham on the grill. The original recipe called for cutting off the skin and trimming the fat layer to 1/4", but the ham I bought had neither skin nor fat, so I just used the recipe as written. Brown sugar, a pinch of cayenne, black pepper--it was a Cook's Illustrated recipe that I can no longer find. However, the cooking method was ideal--rub the ham with the brown sugar mixture, let it stand at room temperature for 2 hours, fire up the grill (I used gas), put the ham on a v-rack over the cool side, roast until it's 160 or so degrees, move the rack to the hot side for 30 minutes, rotating every 10 minutes. To make the rotation easier thread 2 skewers on either side of the bone. Remove the ham and let stand for 15 minutes and carve. Despite having 2 turkeys and a ton of side dishes, the 40 people at our Thanksgiving devoured the ham down to the bone. I barely had enough left to make bean soup with. This had 2 advantages--it freed up the oven, which was pretty well taxed with the turkeys and the side dishes, plus it was a spectacular way to cook ham. Don't use a spiral cut ham--apparently it dries out. This will become my go-to method for ham from now on. It was delicious, easy, and required no clean-up of pan. I think it would be even better over charcoal, but gas is what I have to work with in México. Someday I'll try it with wood chips--we have lots of avocados around here, and they are always trimming the trees. Nancy in Pátzcuaro

Oh, please--unless I've serving ribs or anything else that we eat with our hands it's always cloth napkins. First of all, it's wasteful to use a paper napkin and then throw it away. If we have guests for dinner I wash the napkins afterward, so there's no issue with germs. If it's just the two of us, we use our cloth napkins until one of us (or both) has a spill or other messy event, at which point the napkin goes into the laundry. I would never put out paper napkins for guests, although we are planning Thanksgiving for about 35 people and I might consider it. But that's the only time I might use them. We spend so much time preparing food that the idea of a paper napkin seems contrary to what we're doing in the kitchen. I like to think of a meal as something special, even if it's leftovers and a glass of milk. We all worship at the church of our choice, and mine is at the table. Nancy in Pátzcuaro

Well, Muertos 2013 is over, the stands selling sugar skulls buzzing with opportunistic bees are gone from Plaza Grande, and the displays of marigolds that were beginning to show their age have been removed. Muertos is a very big deal, and the town fills up completely during the days beforehand. I’m sorry this is so long, and I also apologize for the lack of photos. We are having a camera emergency, but I will try to post photos soon. For a while we were also having a computer emergency, but that has been resolved. Ain’t technology grand? Pan de Muertos, the iconic food of the season, is also one of the most significant. It’s a basic puffy egg bread gently flavored with orange and/or anise seed, and it comes in 2 basic shapes. One represents a child with folded arms, as if in the coffin, and the other is a large round loaf with “bone” shapes on top. Both are dusted with sugar. Champurrado is a chocolate atole, sometimes with added milk, that goes nicely with pan de Muertos. Dip bread into champurrado, eat, repeat. Candied camote (sweet potatoes) and ponche (fruit punch) are also popular at this time of year, though they’re not exclusive to Muertos. A specialty unique (I believe) to the state of Michoacán is corundas, which are a sort of blind tamale wrapped in corn leaves (not husks) and steamed. The masa is beaten, usually by hand by a strong Mexican woman, until fluffy and very light, and then it’s patted into a 3-dimensional pyramid and wrapped in the long strappy leaves. Many years ago when we first started coming to Michoacán I tried to learn how to form and wrap them, with absolutely no success. The women standing around the big tub of masa and a pile of corn leaves gave me a very hard time, and by the time I gave up we were all laughing. Like making tortillas, it’s something you learn as soon as you can stand up, and clearly I started too late. But again this is something that’s eaten all year, not exclusively at Muertos. An unwrapped corunda doused in green salsa with a big dollop of crema is a beautiful thing, though a friend of ours calls them “gut bombs.” On the night of Muertos (November 1) we attended an excellent performance of Verdi’s Requiem in the Basilica, performed by the State Symphony and a double choir, before going home to put on warm clothes to head out to the Arócutin cemetery. At the cemetery there were large pots of café de olla, which we would call “cowboy coffee,” flavored with generous applications of cinnamon and piloncillo (unrefined sugar), and a big galvanized tub of roasted winter squash. The squash was being roasted over a fire in the middle of the street by a group of jolly men who had not passed up the opportunity to indulge in beer or some warming beverages (i.e., tequila and mezcal). By 3:30am when we left they were feeling no pain. Given the chill of the early morning the coffee tasted awfully good. Arócutin is a very small village, perhaps 100 families, on the west side of Lake Pátzcuaro near Erongarícuaro, for those who might want to locate it on a map. The churchyard crowded with mounded graves, illuminated by thousands of tall white candles and smoky fires, with multi-generational families on chairs and stools at the gravesites, the rich gold color of the marigolds and candle flames, and the bell tolling in the background is a total sensory experience, a landscape of black and gold. In front of the small church is a tall frame, almost as tall as the church's bell tower, covered with marigolds. The first time I went to this particular cemetery I gasped as I walked through the entry gate because it was so beautiful. The smell of candle wax is overwhelming, almost smothering the scent of marigolds. If the dead choose to return to visit their loved ones they certainly have enough help finding their way home. All flowers are chosen for their intense fragrance or bright color, so you have the customary marigolds combined with lilies, roses and geranium plants for fragrance, and baby’s breath and glads for color and symbolism. The church bell tolls every 10 minutes or so to further guide the dead. There is a separate altar next to the church for those souls who had the misfortune to be buried elsewhere. Here and there are untended graves, with no one left to decorate them. The effect is quite different in the daytime, although equally affecting. In the light you can see the details of decoration and read the names on the simple grave markers. While the graves at Arócutin are traditionally decorated with flowers and candles, other cemeteries combine them with “coronas,” round artificial wreaths on wood or metal stands. The next day many of the candles are still burning but most are only puddles of wax on the ground. An entire street next to the Basilica is devoted to flowers, and at the beginning of the week trucks stuffed with marigolds, dark red coxcombs, glads of every color (though white is preferred for children’s graves), big-headed mums, and baby’s breath start arriving. People buy the long-stemmed marigolds and either cut off the large heads to attach to bamboo frames for the cemetery and their home altars, or put them in vases or 1-gallon cans to place around the graves. By the day before Muertos the street is almost impassable between the mounds of flowers and the pedestrians buying them. By the way, as I believe I’ve mentioned before, here it’s called Noche de Muertos (Night of the Dead) rather than Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) as it’s celebrated in the rest of the Spanish-speaking world. It turns out that some communities on the lake attend the graves during the daytime while others sit through the night. My feeling is that the night event is more traditional, while the “modern” villages celebrate in the daytime. Again, I apologize for the length of this report and the lack of photos. Muertos is not really about food; only pan de Muertos is the one food that appears exclusively at this time. But I hope I’ve given you a taste of how Muertos is celebrated in the Pátzcuaro region. I’m eager to hear about Muertos in Ecuador, and especially why it’s called Difuntos.

That is one delicious-sounding treatment for pork. You bet I just printed it and will be heading to the butcher tomorrow. I'll have to look up the word for tenderloin in Spanish. But at the risk of hijacking this young thread, I remember my mother and grandmother sighing wistfully over a recipe for spare ribs with prunes and raisins. This was from the 50s, so there was no grilling involved, just oven roasting. They lost the recipe and for decades I've tried to find something like that. This recipe for pork tenderloin sounds as close as anything I've found. I think it's the prunes in the sauce. I don't think this is what the OP wanted, though. It could be a Spanish recipe, given that fruit like raisins or prunes is often combined with tomato and other ingredients and (in México) chiles. Anyway, thanks for the recipe and the memory. Nancy in Pátzcuaro

For me, as I think for many others, a recipe is a starting point. Because I've lived in small rural towns and now in México, there are ingredients that for one reason or another aren't available, either to me personally or in general. So substitutions are common, though I try to stick to the original intent of the recipe as much as possible. One of my personal pet peeves is to read through a recipe, and when I get to an instruction that says, "Stir in the lemon juice" I find myself saying, "What lemon juice?" It has been omitted from the list of ingredients, and this happens more than one would think. Mostly recipes downloaded from the Internet--cookbooks tend to be much better about this. Nancy in Pátzcuaro

Teapot, our experience in Colorado was that boletus edulis (aka porcini) were found above 10,000 feet. They also seem to grow near patches of amanita muscaria, the red capped ones with white "cottage cheese," which are a lot easier to spot on the forest floor. So if you see some amanitas, look more closely for boletus. Other less choice boletes are found at lower altitudes. A fellow forager taught us to strip out the tubes at the point of collection to allow spores to replant the area so there will be more mushrooms next year. In that way you can also check for worms, which are a big problem in some areas. Happy foraging! Nancy in Pátzcuaro