caroline

No, it's because they have made life better. They were one of the first things that Appert canned for the luxury market when he started canning in the early nineteenth century. And before that, for the wealthy I am sure they were put up in brandy as they still are. I don't find it a bit surprising that Pepin would use them. I suspect it would go with his training rather than against it. But I wouldn't want to write off the US dessert tradition which did use canned fruit much of the year. It was and I believe still is a fine tradition in many parts of the country. That's a perfectly reasonable position. But so too is the older position that you do want some of the bounty of fall on a beastly sleety March day when even the apples and pears are going soft. But isn't that the point at issue? As several people have suggested, Pepin did make a good dessert with canned peaches. If we want to have one star meals on the table at night, isn't it a good thing to have a few canned peaches on our shelves? Rachel

Understood. And I think that is close to Tolliver's point. The shorthand doesn't necessarily help. People have been putting up peaches for centuries. Sure the texture changes as it does in any preserved food. And sure they are sweet because the sugar is the preservative. What commercial canning did was make this treat available to everyone. So to my mind it's not a case of wholesome versus erzatz but of establishing class status. By the way, I'm not a big fan of canned peaches in the concrete (funny metaphor). But I do want to defend their place in honorable cooking, Rachel

Can anyone tell me just what is wrong with canned peaches? They have an honorable heritage. Generations of Americans made their peach cobbler with canned peaches. And if you want ones that are tastier than the American, try the Mexican duraznos en almibar that come in glass jars as they have for centuries. Rachel

Thanks for point out that tuna is cactus fruit, Extra MSG. You so right tht that needs to be made clear. And you're so right too that it may be the tourist industry that rescues these hundreds of traditional Mexican drinks (as so much other food around the world). That's what happened, after all, to the insect cuisine of Mexico, Thanks for the comments, Rachel

Anise is obviously a widely spread flavor in the vegetable kingdom. Pounding along the old mining road that overlooks Guanajuato yesterday, I met a well-dressed lady in a jogging outfit collecting plants. "Oh what lovely flowers," I said. "Well this is wild anise," was her reply. I pinched off a bit and it had a strong, strong anise flavor. "You must add it to black beans," she said. "It prevents bloat." Now you know, Rachel

Well thanks for putting me up to it and adding such a great recipe to my repertoire. Asking, I found, did no good. like asking an american housewife for her favorite recipe for hamburger buns. Now do you want to join me for meringue, angel food cake? Rachel

Well, here goes. I found this recipe in Adela Fernández' bilingual La Tradicional Cocina Mexicana published in 1985. It produces a spectacular result. And thank you for posing the question because this will be my house gift for the next umpteen years. AF is an interesting person. Her father dominated Mexican cinema during its glory period in the 30s, 40s and 50s. She grew up in a well-to-do household in Mexico City with lots and lots of servants. But like others in that group, the best known in the US being Diego Rivera and Frieda Kahlo, they decided to celebrate the mixed heritage of Mexico. They put on self-consciously indigenous dinners, wore indigenous costumes, and generally broke with the class structure (well, sort of). Ludja, it's a more complicated version of Zarela's recipe. And she is one of my absolute favorite people writing in English on Mexican food. So here's AF with my voice over. It's a Mexico- City type recipe. There is no one Pan de Muerto. I lb flour 1/2 oz yeast 4 oz sugar 4 oz lard 3 whole eggs 7 egg yolks Pinch of salt 2 tablespoons orange blossom water 3 tablespoons strong anise tea 1 tablespoon grated orange rind So, OK, this is the modern world. I set my bread machine to the dough cycle and put in 3 whole eggs and 7 egg yolks. Ludja, do you agree that this looks like a richer version of Zarela's recipe? Voiceover. This has to be a convent recipe. They always had egg yolks to spare because the white was used to glue silver and gold leaf on the altars. Not quite indigenous. And never in my life have I made a bread where all the liquid was egg. Then I make the anise tea. I put three tablespoons of anise seeds in three tablepoons of water and zap them in the microwave. Should have known. The dry seeds soak up all the water. Add more and zap again. The kitchen smells wonderful. Add all the ingredients to the bread machine (strained anise tea, and lucky I have some terrific fresh white lard because I was going to make pastry) and orange blossom water (the modern pantry). Turn on and let it rip. Turns out that this is really liquid, about like gravy. Can't imagine that firming up over the cycle. Add about a quarter again as much flour and start over. A great smooth, yellow dough. Take it out, nip off perhaps one eighth and divide the rest in two. Shape into flattened rounds and put on a greased baking sheet. Make two knobs to put on top with part of the extra dough and use the rest for tear drops and femurs arranged in a cross pattern. Glue them on with---yes you guessed, egg yolk. Leave to rise. AF says for 10-12 hours. Maybe she was in one of these dark, windowless Mexican kitchens. In my bright kitchen it would have hit the roof and flattened long before ten hours were up. So after a couple of hours I bake it. Here AF's instructions are to the point. Use a 250 degree oven. I did and given the high egg count anything else would have burned. I take out the bread after half an hour. Meanwhile following her instructions I have mixed 1 tablespoon of flour with 2/3 a cup of water and cooked it into a creamy mixture. This I brush over the bread. I'm not sure but I think this annointed of cooked breads with a flour and water paste is very Mexican. Lots of the "frostings" in mexico are colored flour and water pastes. In any case this is thinner and dries instantly. Then this must be brushed with, you'll never guess, beaten egg, and then sprinkled with sugar. AF does not say but I return it to the oven for a few second because the egg is still a little liquid. It's a quite spectacular light feathery bread. It will go stale instantly I am sure. And I can no longer taste separately the But it's disappearing at an amazing rate as everyone in the household cuts slices. Mexican are sure I ordered it from a bakery. I'm dancing with triumph though the credit should go to AF, Rachel P. S. And here, for comparison, are the proportions offered by Canaipa (Cámara Nacional de la Industria del Pan): I kilo flour, 12 grams salt, 20 grams sugar, 150 grams margarine, 159 grams lard or butter, 10 eggs, 100 ml of milk, 30 gms of yeast, flavorings of sugar, cinnamon or vanilla.

Esperanza, Ludja, Fifi, Do I have a recipe for pan de muerto? As of today I have something spectacuar. But I'm going to put it on a separate thread because Mexico has many uses of anise and because not all pan de muerto includes it. On anise. Fifi I too love fennel. I love it fresh, I love it cooked, I love fennel seeds. Great with pork. But rooting around again and using the book of one of my heroines and Texas treasure, Madalene Hill, I discover that fennel is Foenicuum vulgare. And anise is Pimpinella anisum. and it does not give enough seeds in the garden to make it worth harvesting. And that in any case what I have in my garden (apart from fennel) is not anise but anise hyssop, probably Anise mexicana since it does have a lovely rose flower. I believe it's the Pimpinela anisum that is used so frequently in Mexico. It's a standard name on a set of six spice jars. It goes into mole, into syrups, into sweet breads and into liquors. Wonderful stuff. I'll look out for specific recipes, Ludja, Rachel

I have to admit I don't have a recipe that I can say is tried and true. In fact, I'm not sure I've made pan de muerto though I have made rosca de reyes on various occasions. I also think it varies enormously across Mexico--shape, flavorings, etc. Why don't I root around in my books and you in yours and ask around a bit and see what we can come up with? Anyone else on the list an expert on this? Rachel

IWent into my favorite bakery yesterday and there was wonderful smell of anise (at least if you love anaise as I do). Grandmother, mother and young daughter were picking over piles of fresh green seeds on the trays that you normally put your bread on. The seeds were dry but so fresh they hadn't gone brown and shrivelled. And they were picking out bits of stem and stones. They were doing it, they told me, to begin making pan de muerto next month. I asked where the seed came from and they told me in the south of the state. But that was as far as we got and it seemed rude to press further with other people coming in for bread. But i'm now determined to use the anise seed from the plants in my garden. anyone trid doing this? Rachel

Wonderful! Round here tepache is usually sold from a red barrel (or a barrel that was once red) with rico tepache (delicious tepache) painted on the front. I've never seen Esperanza's alka seltzer version but I'm on the look out. I have the impression that we are right on the edge of tepache country and it's not often spotted. My efforts at making it at home have always produced very palatable results. But what about all the other fermented drinks of Mexico? I've been trying to track down colonche for the past year or so (fermented tuna drink). I know it's made between dolores Hidalgo and San Luis de la Paz (for example) but always turn up at the wrong place at the wrong time. Any hints? What are the ones in regions you know? Rachel

Extra MSG, I agree about Teotihuacan. The area around it is not very attractive and I don't think will be spoiled by Wal-Mart. I have a friend who grew up there is is understandably distressed. But I have to admit I think there's a certain poetic justice in the juxtaposition. Teotihuacan represented the ultimate in sheer power in the 3rd century AD, certainly int he Americas. And indeed I can't think of anywhere in the world where so much naked power was concentrated in one place represented by the huge scale of the construction. Now we have Wal-Mart, one of the great powerful institutions of the early twenty first century. An interesting comparison to contemplate! Esperanza's experience with the tortilleras in Wal-Mart (or Carrefour or the Mexican chains all of which have them) is the same as mine: they are no different from the store-front tortillerias. Store-bought tortillas have declined in quality in Mexico but that's not because people are buying cheap at supermarkets. Thanks to both for the thoughts, Rachel

Thanks Larry. It's impressive to hear how to try to find time both to grow your ingredients and to work out the foundations of what you are trying to do. I can't wait to try the results some day. And I think you can compare yourself to the people I mentioned! You may have taken classes but you are an independent professional and one is is facing parallel challenges (running a restaurant to modern tastes) but in a different environment (Texas not Mexico). We're all rooting for youm Rachel

Hi Lanny, I wish I could be with the group on the 18th but here I am in Mexico. Well, can't complain. I'm fascinated by what you're doing. Could you comment on (1) Where you see similarities between mediterranean and Mexican cooking (a topic that keenly interests me) (2) How you see what you are in doing in comparison to what some of the chefs in Mexico are doing with nouvelle Mexican--I suppose I'd say Martha Chapa or Patricia Quintana or Monica Beteta rather than perhaps Ricardo Muñoz or Alicia Gironella who I suppose I'd put on the more "authentic" side though it's not a hard and fast line obviously? Thanks for taking the time out of your busy schedule, Rachel

That's too bad. And he's such a nice guy too apart from his culinary skills. Best wishes for his recovery, Rachel

Well friends, Wal-Mart, it turns out, is about to open a new store in the shadow of the pyramids of Teotihuacan, just north of Mexico City. It's one of the great places of Mexico. Which prompted me to reflect on why Mexicans might flock to Wal-Mart (and Carrefour, its French equivalent fighting it out here in Mexico)and Costco and Sam's. I live in a wonderful town, Guanajuato, poised between the mountains and the plains at about 7,000 feet. It's a UNESCO heritage site with baroque churches, alleyways climbing hills, a decent university, excellent symphony, three theatres and the best arts festival in Latin America. And I can eat wonderfully--with some effort. But I still hear the siren song of Leon, unlovely boom town that makes Hush puppies (shoes, not food for us food-obsessed people) , Florsheim and most of the other shoes that are bought in the US. In Guanajuato, I can shop at a Mexican supermarket, Comercial Mexicana. It's crowded, dirty, smells and I have to push my cart up a ramp to parking on the roof. I can go to Mercado Hidalgo, a stunning building designed in the late nineteenth century. Sad to say the wiring is a health hazard. The meat comes from a slaughterhouse that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy and ultimately from a natural but distinctly bad for beef diet of acacia thorn bushes, nopal cactus, and whatever else the runty cattle can scrounge. Tellingly it is sold for three prices; highest solid meat, middle meat with gristle and sinews, lowest you don't want to know. The vegetables are old and faded except for the wonderful standbys of nopal, chile, coriander, hand made tortillas, etc. Or I can go to local small shops that charge an arm and a leg for canned tomato sauce, canned pickles and canned dulce de leche. So like the rest of the middle class in Guanajuato I risk my life on the highway (one lane Mercedes at 100 mph, one lane mule carts and brick trucks at 10 mph) to Leon. And here's the list: Carrefour: Really good Mexican meat from the big ranches in the north (including things like oxtail and kidneys), olive oil, vinegars, olives, dark chocolate, utensils, cutlery and glasses. Delicatessans: wine, jamon Serrano, decent coffee, cheese. Costco: Mexican asparagus, artichokes, blackberries, rambutan, lychees, tomatoes, etc of export quality, and lettuce that does not have to be disinfected (hoorah). Wal-mart: Crema, Schweppes tonic water, capers, frozen New Zealand lamb (love lamb), New Zealand butter (Mexican has margarine added), totopos and sopes (tortilla based dishes), Chinese cabbage, and (for my American husband who yearns for the foods of childhood) American cake mixes, "black tea" (that is Camellia siniensis, tea meaning herbal tea in Mexico) and basic groceries at decent prices. So to sum up this long shaggy dog story: As Carrefour and Wal-mart enter the Mexican market, they are sweeping away the local competition. This consists of three supermarket chains, my much-loathed Commercial (actually there are branches that are pretty nice), Gigante and Soriana. It's not clear that this is the overwhelming power of the internationals. They have not had such success in Brazil for example where the local chains were apparently better. The big Mexican three have combined and persuaded the government to overrule monopoly legislation so that they can try to compete. We'll see. Meanwhile other Mexican food companies are thriving. Bimbo, founded by a refugee Basque family after WWII is now (I believe) the world's second largest bakery. It controls most of Latin America and has made large inroads in the US. I say this not because I like their bread (I wouldn't buy it if you paid me) but to say that US/French might does not necessarily rule in Mexico. Should Wal-Mart be near the pyramids? Well, I'll leave that for another day, Rachel

Hey Katie, I think the busboys would have associated elotes with cold weather because the peak time for the them in Mexico is in November or December when the fresh corn is ready. If that seems an odd time, it's planted in June/July when the rains have soaked the ground). They're available all year though. Another popular coating is ground coconut. But to my mind the best by far are roasted and then eaten with chile and lime. Heaven. Rachel

The name's right Holly. The corn cobs must be field corn not sweet corn, and preferably flour corn which is hard to come by in the US. A favorite post afternoon meal snack in Mexico. I prefer them roasted not boiled with chile and lemon not mayonaise and queso. But it's a matter of taste, Rachel

Hey, hey, hey, far be it from me, ardent advocate of the globalization of foods, to leave Hawaii out of the loop. Three cheers that they have the iconic heirloom tomatoes, fine wine, stinky cheese, etc. But for me one of the neatest things about globalisation is that it kicks the local into high gear. Usually. That seemed to be happening in Hawaii in the 80s and 90s. And maybe it will now and the farmer's markets (and I'd love to know just who those farmers are by the way) will offer pea-sized eggplants and banana flowers along with the iconic tomatoes and will offer natto and kim chee along with the stinky cheese (if it's sold there) and purple rice sweets along with artesanal bread and . . . well you get the picture. Leaving aside that these things are often terrific contributions to world cuisine, there is also the matter of (yes shout) TOURISM on which the islands depend. Tourists want something exotic if even if the tiniest doses. Local markets that are clones of those in San Francisco just aren't exotic. But perhaps that's just crass on my part. But of course I'd be lining up for that artisanal bread Rachel

LarryG and Oneidone, Thanks so much for bringing me up to date on somewhere that I loved and with which I am so hopelessly out of date. Are all the city-sponsored farmers' markets so horrid? My favorite was always Kalihi at 8am on Saturdays where the produce was uncontestably local. And what has happened in Hilo? they had one of that kind too. I guess I'm a hopeless romantic. How to put this. I want to see Hawaii roaring out saying learn to taste rice, try sweet potato greens, kamias, tamarind, banana flowers. Learn the varieties of mango and seaweed. If you want nifty bread, try an pan. In the 50s and 60s Hawaii chased mainland trends, anxious to be up to date with their chicken cordon bleu. And much of that was great. But is the food community doing the same now wanting artisan bread and heirloom tomatoes? Will the effort to bring Hawaii up to mainland expectations of food look just as dated in a couple of decades? Just a question. I see parallels in Mexico where I now live where in the 60s it was chicken cordon bleu and now it's nouveau Mexican. Both can be great. But where are the nopales, the cabuches, the colonche? I remember sitting with Joan Namkoong in a little Vietamese restaurant just below the university that had truly great food. The two of us were bitching about the quality of cheese in Hawaii. And suddenly I though, this is nuts! best, Rachel

Thanks Stovetop and Tryska, Helpful comments. And yes I quite get the point that the meat is not gravy, just the sauce. If I remember right gravy was used the same way in Hawaii. You could order a noodle dish with gravy which of course had shoyu etc. but it went by the name of gravy. Amazing how far the terminology of the British Empire stretched! Rachel

Pake and Sun-Ki, Thanks to both of you for such helpful answers. Loved your detailed stories, Sun-Ki. Dredging my memory for the person who told me that purple sweet potato was not the traditional Okinawan sweet potato I think it was either Izzie Abbot or Doug Yen, both of them I don't have to tell the likes of you great ethnobotanists. So it's great to see the science and the history converging. Figuring out the ube/purple sweet potato story would be fascinating. There must have been trade. I also found it interesting that Okinawan Cookery and Culture which I think when it was published in Hawaii in the 1970s was the only English-language Okinawan cookbook barely mentions sweet potato. Presumably this was because it was too common or everyday. Such cookbooks do tend to be heavy on meaty and upmarket dishes. Cheers, Rachel

So for you Tryska a curry would be a gravy. Do you have any idea whether it would be common to call a curry a gravy in India? Rachel

Hi LarryG, You are certainly right that Honolulu cannot offer the restaurant dining experience of Tokyo or New York. Certainly Indian restaurants (which are among my favorites) are not thick on the ground. Hawaii needs a software industry! And I can quite see that you want the sophistication of big cities. Your web page is eloquent and I loved it. When I moved to Honolulu (though I'd never had the money or the opportunity to eat in fine restaurants) I was disappointed by what I found. But I ended up fascinated. And I'd love to be able to explain not only why but why Hawaii's food intrigues some of us. High end restaurants are going to be difficult. The city is only one twentieth the size of New York or Tokyo. The restaurants should be compared to a small to medium sized American city not to NY or Tokyo. Specially since there isn't much money floating around. Locals are hard pushed with the high prices and scarcity of high-paying jobs. What about tourism? Well, well-to-do tourists scoot straight off to the outer islands to avoid Waikiki. Hence it's hard for up market restaurants to survive (please comment those of you who know more than me!). But, as I think Sun-Ki commented on another thread, you can taste things in Hawaii that you would never find anywhere else in the US. And, as I would say, you can find amazing eating experiences. High end, perhaps no. But palate expanding, for sure. And, thankfully, not all adjusted to mainland tastes. And wonderful ingredients in Chinatown and the regular (not the haole) farmers' markets. I learned more about food in Hawaii than any other place I have lived. And if the way of the future (as of the past) is fusion food, then Hawaii is the future. I could go on. But I just want to say I hope you find niches you like. And may you keep edging the potential of Hawaii's food up! Rachel

Is red sauce or red gravy what I would call tomato sauce? Is it the case that Italian immigrants just assumed gravy meant sauce and thus used gravy for tomato-based sauces? Rachel