Monday, August 22, 2011

Thirty - A Look Back to Birthdays Past

In honor of turning thirty earlier this month, I have decided that  I will pay tribute to birthdays past -- mere memories, some more vivid than others.

I have a relatively good memory (cuando me conviene) and have the ability to remember waaaaaaaaaay back. Sure, pictures help to jog this old noggin, but I can sometimes remember more vividly than others.

For instance, I can remember my 8th (or was it 9th) birthday where we had a piñata and my very pregnant Madrina and my mom's very pregnant friend, Snoopy battled over candy with such fervor that they both fell on top of me. Near death experience. At this same party, one Papi's cousins decided it would be a total gag to rub frosting all over my face. I sure as heck didn't think so and have the pictures of me bawling to prove it.  I also wasn't too fond of said person because he thought it oh so funny to flip his eyelids inside out and scare the Bejeezus out of me - frequently.  This guy was supposed to be one of the adults, right? Twenty plus years later, I'm still hesitant to be near him lest he do it again and then think: he was un mojon in his twenties -- what the hell did I expect?

I remember all through middle and high school being envious of the kids who had birthdays during the school year.  They'd show up to school and all their friends would bring them a balloon.  By the days end, they could probably float away given the right gust of wind.  Being a Summer baby, I never really had this opportunity. Sure, we'd always take a vacation somewhere -- Bahamas, Puerto Rico, Disney or just the beach.  But all I wanted was those stupid balloons so I could flash my so-called popularity.  They were the feathers to my peacock.

My thirteenth birthday had a hurricane looming so we didn't do anything special because we were too busy boarding up the windows.  We had ham steaks with pineapple and mashed potatoes and mom picked up the last cake at the grocery store (along with some canned goods & water). Good news was that the hurricane didn't hit.  Bad news: no party anyway.

My Quinces were everything I imagined and wanted at that time.  Blue, blue and more blue -- I even had the florists paint my flowers blue! I still remember that the boy that made my heart flutter at the time danced "Tainted Love" (my all-time favorite song) with me and that kept me on a high for weeks.  He never did call after that. Mami sat me down that day and had a talk with me.  No, not "The Talk" -- she said this:

"Don't rush in wanting to grow up.  It will come sooner than you think and the older you get, the quicker it will come.  You're fifteen now, next thing you know, you will be eighteen, then twenty-one, then twenty-five, then thirty!"

I thought she was full of shit.

My nineteenth birthday was full of sugar, cake, and Britney Spears & *NSYNC Karaoke.  There is video footage somewhere.

My twenty-first birthday was spent on a week long trip visiting the Magic Kingdom & Busch Gardens. On the actual day of my birthday, we were at Busch Gardens and I had told Papi that I wanted to buy my old man a beer.  I did -- I also bought myself one.  I didn't like it. I also remember that at exactly 10:44 am, as we were walking past some animal, Papi yelled, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" and spanked me so hard my teeth rattled and I think I even cried a bit.  Nine years later, I think my butt is still throbbing.  He had been waiting for at least ten minutes to do that, holding his breath and checking his watch every so often. I will pay him back someday.

On my twenty-sixth birthday, I woke up crying.  I don't know why and have since shed a tear at some point during that day -- never fails.  One of my best friends, Cocation, arrived at my job earlier than me and had decorated my entire office with balloons & streamers.  She then, along with my family, surprised me at Coyote Ugly that night for cake & drinks.  Its an interesting experience to have a strange woman pour a tequila shot in your mouth while she dances on top of a bar to "Pour Some Sugar On Me".  Yep, strike that one off the bucket list!

On my twenty-seventh birthday, Mami sat me down again.  "You're not a Spring chicken anymore.  You're closer to thirty than twenty-five." I, of course, cried. That was the first year that I heard the toll of the bell in my Vieja Clocktower. The only bright side was that I was engaged to a fabulous guy so at least I knew I wasn't going to be an old maid. My niece was also born six days later - what an awesome birthday gift!

Last year was a tough one.  It was the first time I have ever been away from my family.  They called all day and Mami made a Lechon Asado in my honor.  The only thing missing was me. I asked that they at least place a picture of me at the dinner table so it would seem that I was there. No one knew it was my birthday at my new job and my day just got worse and worse. Mi Gringito was working and it just plain sucked. Needless to say, I cried.

I decided I was going to change the pattern this year.  I refused to have a birthday cake (it also helped that it wasn't good for my diet!) and I also decided that I was going to treat this day like any other.  No fanfare, nothing.  My other best friend, Muffin, flew all the way from Iowa to spend the week with me and that was birthday gift enough. On the actual day of my birthday, we headed North to some outlet malls and just hung out -- we even saw a moose on the drive home! Forget that we were scared of random Indians popping out of the woods and standing in the middle of the road -- maybe the mushrooms in our supper were magical! So, finally, I did not cry on the day of my birthday!

I cried the following day.

I was in a rush because Mi Gringito had a job interview and I had lost all track of time. I was in the shower washing my hair when there was a knock on the bathroom door. Mi Gringito needed to use the bathroom and was asking permission to enter.  You'd think after nearly two years of marriage, he'd walk right in -- I do. I tell him OK and don't bother to turn around; I had more important things to attend to like the shampoo that was making its way into my eyes. All of a sudden, the shower door opens.  I turned around to see what he was thinking when I looked right at my mother's face.  SURPRISE! Mami had come to visit me like a ninja! She offered to scrub my back, I sobbed like a baby. Best. Birthday. Ever. I had my Mami and my Muffin with me for an entire week.  Muffin made me cinnamon rolls from scratch and got me the coolest pair of Sperry Top-Siders (I've always wanted a pair!). We hung out, drank wine, played dominoes. I also scored an "ñ" charm for my bracelet as well as a Kindle. Its going to be hard to top this one, I fear!

 





What are some of your fond or not-so-fond memories of birthdays past?

Monday, August 15, 2011

Memi's Favorite: Abuela's Arroz Con Pollo A La Chorrera

Everyone has a favorite dish that they can seemingly eat day in and day out for the rest of their lives.  Mine has changed from time to time as I have grown and tried new things. But today, we are not going to discuss my favorite; we are going to delve into a dish that has made my sister's mouth water as far back as I can remember.

Abuela has always made Arroz con Pollo a La Chorrera to mark special occasions. Be it a birthday, anniversary or Easter Sunday -- the smells coming out of that kitchen and my sister's happy dances are key to those memories.

This weekend, I had the urge to recreate this delicious dish for Mi Gringito, Los Suegros and some of their friends. So what's a girl to do? I called Abuela and had a cooking consultation.  Readers, I do this frequently.  We gab about what's been going on since we last spoke as well as reminisce on dishes she has made me in the past.  I then ask her how she makes one of her many delectable dishes. "Mi Niña, tu sabes que yo lo hago todo de ojo" - Translation: "My little one, you know that I do it all by eye." Hence, no measurements.

So, after about an hour of back and forth here is the recipe I was able to conjure up:

Abuela's Arroz Con Pollo A La Chorrera
Ingredients:
2 Tbsp Extra Virgin Olive Oil (or enough to cover the bottom of pan)
3 Large Boneless-Skinless Chicken Breasts (Abuela used a whole chicken bones and all - to appease my family, I switched to boneless chicken breast - cooks the same if you use bone-in chicken parts)
Salt
Freshly Ground Pepper
Dried Oregano
1/4 C Sofrito (I buy the GOYA version)
2 12oz Bottles of Beer (I used Beck's since "La Llave" was Abuelo's beverage of choice)
1 12oz can of Tomato Sauce
2 14.5oz cans of Chicken Stock (I used a Low Sodium/Fat Free variety)
2 packets of GOYA Seasoning
2 C White Rice, uncooked
1 C frozen small peas, thawed
1 small jar of Pimentos
Tabasco Sauce, to taste

Directions

  • Season both sides of the breasts with the salt, pepper & oregano.
  • In a large heavy stock pot, heat olive oil and saute the sofrito until fragrant -- approximately one (1) minute on medium-high heat.
  • Sear the chicken breasts in the sofrito -- approximately one to two (1-2) minutes per side.
  • Add one bottle of beer and let cook for five (5) minutes.
  • Add the chicken stock, tomato sauce, GOYA seasoning and about one-half (1/2) tsp of salt. Stir to mix ingredients.
  • Add the rice, and stir again.
  • Bring the mixture to a boil by raising the heat to high.
  • Once boiling, reduce to low and cover.  Let simmer for thirty (30) minutes.
  • Add the second bottle of beer to the rice.
  • Cover again and continue to simmer for ten (10) minutes.
  • Remove from heat.
  • Remove chicken from pot and set on a plate or cutting board.  Using two forks, shred the breasts.
  • Add the chicken, peas & pimentos back into the rice along with a dash (or two or three) of Tabasco sauce.  Mix well and let sit for about five (5) more minutes.


Viola!

I apologize for lack of pictures, but I do have the before and after.  Here's my question to you: do you think they liked it?

Before...

I think they were just being polite...


Sigh, I'm actually sad that there wasn't any leftovers.  It was such a hit that I can't wait to make it again.  Who knows -- I just might make it for Abuela when I go visit her in Miami next week.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Tradition vs. Convenience

Cuban coffee flows through my veins.  It's true! I swear!

When I moved away from Miami, I left my daily cafecito in the mid-afternoon.  That little pick me up that I totally took for granted -- gone! I still remember walking the mall on a freezing February afternoon and starting to sniff the air.  "Cafe!" I exclaimed to Mi Gringito. We happened to be walking past one of those gourmet coffee places and that smell could not be mistaken; the price on the other hand left a bad taste in my mouth.  $3.00 for a shot of espresso? Seriously? Some Hispanic in the Northeast is giggling his way to the bank at this very moment! I voiced my frustrations to Mami later that night during our daily text conversation.


Mami remedied this almost instantly by sending me a traditional cafetera in one of her care packages. She said that whenever I got the craving, I could just brew some myself. Awesome.  They sell espresso in the grocery stores (more on that later) so I didn't have to rely on care packages for that.

But here's the thing: I didn't learn to make cafe with one of those doohickeys...

We had a dual coffee maker for years in our house.  One side made American coffee and the other side made Espresso.  I can remember jumping for joy when it was my turn to make the cafe for my Abuelo -- heck, I even have a nice burn scar as almost like a trophy on my left hand for my efforts.

But I digress.

I've had this metal contraption in my possession for about a year and a half now and I think I've made espresso in it about five whole times.  Me. The person who in my early twenties would drink an entire colada at six in the morning so that I would have that peppy and perky smile at work.  Me. The person who thinks nothing of drinking a shot before bed because its an excellent night cap. Me. The person that as soon as I am picked up at the airport in Miami demands to be taken to the nearest cafeteria for a shot. What can I say? Soy vaga.

Anyhoo. My point is that just because I have certain tools does not mean I will use them.

My little story takes a bit of turn, though.

Mi Gringito loves caffeine.  Mi Gringito loves Dunkin' Donuts Coffee. He's known so well at the store by his job, that they only have to hear his voice to know his order: "Extra Large Hot, Extra Mocha, Extra Caramel with Skim only and a Turbo shot."


Mi Gringito is going to make us go broke with his consumption. I honestly think that he was absent from school on the day the vocabulary word was moderation.

He has a Dunkin' Donuts Card that has automatic replenishment so that he can indulge in his caffeine-laced beverage when he gets the craving. I don't care.  I was the one who got him the card and set up the account.  It makes my life easier and he's happy. The only problem, however, is this moderation thing that he knows nothing of. Once his card reaches a certain balance, it is set to replenish. I'm cool with that. I'm not cool with it replenishing three times in one week.

I had to do an intervention. I asked my loving husband what he got out of all that coffee? He mentioned that it tasted good and that it kept him energized and focused at work.  I asked him if he thought that maybe some espresso could have the same effect.  After all, he was paying and additional $1 (!!!) to add a shot to his coffee.  He responded, "Perhaps."

So last week I began an experiment. I wake up at 5am with him on the mornings he works anyway so why don't I use that awake time to productively make him his morning coffee (or fuel, like I like to call it)?

I used the cafetera every morning last week, but I don't know how I feel about it. It doesn't fit on my burner so I had to buy a metal thing to place under it and well, like I said earlier, I am vaga! What was I to do? Mi Gringito loves his morning cafe con leche and he has barely used his DD Card since I began the experiment. Heck, on the first morning he said, "Who needs Dunkin' Donuts?" as he gulped down the entire beverage in seconds.

Well, I did what any modern Cubanita might do: I went shopping for an espresso machine!



Now, I don't know if it's memory or nostalgia, but I swear that these machines were almost dirt cheap in Miami -- so you can imagine the hard time I was having when the least expensive I've come across is about $100. I was determined, though, and during yesterday's grocery run at Wal-Mart, I decided to check out the small appliance section.  I found a pretty decent machine made by Mr. Coffee for about $37. Not bad, if you ask me.

Today I made Mi Gringito his cafe con leche without even breaking a sweat. He even commented on how it tasted even better than the previous times (now I think he's just trying to sweeten me up!). So what if it isn't the traditional way on top of a stove? To me, this is the tradition: it was how I was taught and I'm not afraid of messing it up.

Now on to the subject of the actual espresso. This is something that kills me when I do groceries.  I mean seriously, how much is a cube of cafe in the stores in Miami? A little piece of me dies when I am paying nearly $4 for something I know is about $2 at Sedano's!

I went shopping the other day and was looking for some espresso and I get to the coffee aisle.  Not only do I have only three brands to choose from, they are all obscenely expensive in my opinion. I opted for the least expensive brand instead of going for what was tried and true.  I have never seen this brand before, but being called Cafe Caribe, it has to be good...right? Meh. When I got home, I Google'd the brand and came across this review. After brewing it, I can definitely agree with the author. Oh well.  Lesson learned. On this week's grocery trip, Mi Gringito walked to the coffee section and said, "Hey Babe...Pilon." Let's just say that I paid the $4 happily.


So, readers, I have two questions for you this time around: 1) What is better, tradition or convenience? and 2) Is it worth saving a few pennies if the product is not the same quality?

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Seasons Come & Seasons Go

One thing I honestly love about New England is the ability to experience the seasons.  Living in Miami where we are in eternal Summer, I never appreciated things like flowers or even the leaves on the trees themselves.

Sunrise taken in Scranton, PA on our drive to our new home in New England

When we first moved up here, La Suegra would go on and on about how much she loved the Spring since it was like a rebirth after the death of Winter. I wasn't sure what she was talking about but I took her word for it.  I was told that we had moved up during a relatively mild Winter and that I should not use it as an example.

Spring came and it was ok.  La Suegra set up a little garden and she planted flowers and a few vegetables -- an attempt at becoming self-sustaining.

Eh, what's up Doc?

Cilantro that I conveniently use in my Ropa Vieja recipe

A fly!

In a few weeks, that little green ball will be a ripe tomato!

Summer was nice, maybe only about a week or so of Miami-like heat.  My only complaint was the lack of central A/C in this old house.

Then Fall came.  Wow.  Nothing can compare to watching those leaves change color.  The weather was crisp and gave me a skip to my step.  I started craving pumpkin everything (for a while there, I thought I was pregnant - me wanting to eat calabaza?). This is what people had been preparing me for all year.  When people would find out that I had just moved here, they'd say, "You will LOVE the Fall!". They were right! Que belleza!


Gould Hill Apple Orchard, Hopkinton, NH



Winter came next.  What can I say? Coño que frio, mis amigos! I started to think that I was an extra in a movie titled Ice Age 4: Afternoon of the Popcicles! Let me tell you, when its 5 degrees below - you know! I loved it, though.  I think that every time it snowed, I would stare outside the window at the pretty  snowflakes coming down.  I only really got sick of it when it was still snowing mid-April.
Our driveway became an ice way. Ice-cleats were all the fashion at this point!

Got Snow?

Not a greeting card -- that's our barn!

Spring? Where are ya buddy? It came late this year, but when it did, I was wowed. La Suegra was right! You really start to appreciate something when it isn't there 24/7.

I never thought I would see the end of the ice and the snow, but soon enough, beautiful things started sprouting from the ground. The trees got thicker and the bugs started to buzz.

Arizona Sun Blanket

Who doesn't love roses?

Columbine

Poppy

Petunia

Peony

Tulips

Lilac

The first day of Summer is just two days away and I am going to enjoy the season of my youth, but also mark it as my countdown to Fall.  I can't wait!

I love living in New England for all its beauty and nature and history.

Do you experience seasons where you live? 

Friday, June 17, 2011

Barriga Llena, Corazon Contento - Ropa Vieja

Mi Gringito loves to eat. This is good because I love to cook! When we met, I asked him if he had ever eaten Cuban food.  He said yes and that his favorite dish was Ropa Vieja.  Now, before a few months ago, I had never prepared this dish before.  No reason really -- maybe because Abuela's was so good I knew mine wouldn't even compare...

Regardless, I live to please my very loving husband and I set to prepare his favorite dish -- no pressure! I adapted the recipe for convenience and I make mine in a crockpot. Guess what! Abuela can retire because mine is that darn good! YUM, YUM, YUM!




Ropa Vieja
Ingredients:
2 Cubanelle Peppers, seeded and sliced*
1 Small Onion, sliced*
1 can (14oz) Tomato Sauce
1 can (6oz) Tomato Paste
1 Tbsp each Olive Oil, Cider Vinegar and Minced Garlic
1 Tsp Ground Cumin
1 Bay Leaf
1/2 Tsp Salt
1 Boneless Chuck Steak (1.5 LB)**
1/3 C Pimiento-stuffed Olives
1/3 C Chopped Cilantro

* My grocery store also has pre-sliced fajita vegetables already packaged that is a mix of peppers and onions.  You can substitute that for the peppers and onion
** I buy anything in the range of 1.5-3 lbs...no one has ever said no to more meat!!


  • Mix all ingredients except steak, olives & cilantro in a 3.5-qt or larger slow-cooker


  • Top with steak; turn steak over to coat with mixture


  • Cover and cook on low 8 to 10 hours until steak is very tender

Is it done yet?

  • Remove and discard bay leaf. 
  • Tear steak in shreds using two forks. 
  • Stir in olives and chopped cilantro


You know how I know I did good? Mi Gringito asked for seconds...a full plate of it!  It's a good thing I don't cook this way every day porque we'd have to roll ourselves up the stairs!!

Enjoy, mis amigos! Hasta la proxima!