Rice cookers are wonderful appliances. The fuzzy logic switches stop things from cooking whenever the temperature goes over boiling- so it's nearly impossible to burn things. Since I've burned dry beans approximately seven million times this is wonderful. They're also safe to leave running alone and use a fraction of the power or gas that a burner does. I often leave the bean cooking part of a recipe cooking in the morning, and then return to add the final touches to the recipe. It's easy! It's cheap! It makes beans a reliable last minute meal! It's magical!
I should be getting paid to shill these.
The Moros and Cristianos recipe- black beans and rice cooked together- can be modified thusly: Cook one cup of black beans in the rice cooker with four cups of water for about an hour. (It might be more like an hour and a half.) When the beans are tender, add 1 cup of short grain brown rice and 1 and 3/4 cups water and cook again. (If you're using other rice, add a cup of that and as much water as your rice cooker recommends.) When it switches off, taste it. If something's not done, add another half cup of water and run the cooker again. The original recipe involved a mire poix and hours of simmering- now I usually garnish this with some kind of salsa cruda and an egg and call it dinner. (Serves two adults with a leftover breakfast. Adjust recipe accordingly.)
When I wrote the recipe for Annapurna dal, I complained that I took terrible photos. I haven't improved. Some things have changed: I'm now convinced that mung beans make the best dal- the very best- although lentils are fine too. I put a cup of legume into the rice cooker, I add several cups of water, and I wait about half an hour. While waiting, I chop an onion and saute it over low heat with half a teaspoon of salt and a good glug of oil. Near the end, I add half a teaspoon of curry powder and half a teaspoon of cumin. (One could caramelize five or six onions, and then keep them in the fridge for super simple- rice cooker only meals.) I mix everything together. There's no need to puree it, because things will handily reduce themselves to sludge. I eat it with leftover brown rice, yogurt, or lime pickles. (I have yet to learn to make these lime pickles) I often throw frozen or fresh broccoli into the steamer basket for five of the minutes that the beans are cooking. (Not the last five, because then I miscalculate and the broccoli turns to mush.)
Here are other rice cooker bean recipes that don't require adaptation: Chilean lentil soup and hummus.
Showing posts with label Chilean. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chilean. Show all posts
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Monday, August 29, 2011
Five Minute Gazpacho for One
In order to keep up with my farmers' markets in August problem, every meal we eat at home must have a produce dish. Here's my new lunchtime side for as long as the tomatoes are excellent.
Coarsely chop 2/3 pickling cucumber and two small tomatoes. Put in bowl. Find the garlic press, and press one clove garlic, 1/3 pickling cucumber (in thick slices), one slice hot pepper (or more to taste), and two small tomatoes, halved. Add the gruesome product of your pressing to the bowl. Add the juice of one lime, to taste. Stir and season with salt and pepper.
Labels:
Chilean,
cucumber,
farmer's market madness,
tomato
Monday, January 10, 2011
Chilean Avocado Salad

I'm at a conference, so my posts will be... to the point [and guest posted! - ed]. Also, here A. A salad for the tropics.
Take one perfect avocado. Peel, deseed, slice, and fan out on a plate. Sprinkle with salt. Serve with bread. Think giant ground sloth thoughts.
The salad in the picture has toasted sesame seeds (because avocado and sesame are friends) and chopped cilantro and probably a little bit of Meyer lemon juice. I make everything Californian.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Porotos Granados- Hideously Californicated

The bread is most essential.
This is a traditional Chilean summer dish. Or it would be, if I were using fresh cranberry beans instead of dry red beans. And if the corn were not sweet corn and there were less of it. And if the squash were more cooked. And if the tomatoes were not canned and not in the stew but sliced on a plate next to it. And if I didn't include paprika- it's too spicy.
To quote C precisely, "It's nothing like the stew I grew up with, but if you kept making it forever, I would be happy." It's very hearty- it straight up sticks to your ribs. I figure some of my imaginary readers are looking for something that will make them feel full and also warm.
The next set of instructions is for people who still have problems with not cooking their own beans. Feel free to skip this and use two fifteen ounce cans of unseasoned small red beans and two cups of water. (or pinto beans)
Take two cups small red beans and simmer them in 6 cups of water for about two hours. Add water if necessary. When the beans are almost tender, carry on with the recipe.
Slice, seed, and peel about two cups of winter squash. (They do sell the prepared squash in the frozen section now, if you don't have a half squash moping around the fridge.) Simmer with the beans (and a bay leaf) until the squash is fully cooked and on its way to disintegration.
Slice 1/2 onion and saute in oil until tender. Add 1/2 teaspoon cumin, 1/2 teaspoon paprika, and 1 cup corn. Saute briefly- until the corn is coated with spices. Add to the beans with a 15 oz. can of diced tomatoes. Simmer for about 15 minutes- the texture should be something like chili, so add water if needed. (Or steal the broth with a spoon and wander around sipping a mug of bean juice.) Eat with lots of bread. No, more bread than that.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Moros y Cristianos

I tripled this recipe, because I have poor judgement. Two days later it has all been eaten. So yes, it is very tasty. And while this recipe will comfortably serve two for dinner and then breakfast, why not double it?
Take one and one half cups dry turtle beans and pick them over. I have opinions about dry beans which will probably be explained on some dreary day. For now, remember that it is important that the beans be fresh, or they will never get soft. Also, do not add acid or salt until they are cooked or the skins will become tough. Simmer the beans in a heavy pot over low heat with 4 cups water for about an hour- until the beans are tender. (You could be slow roasting some pork with lime and orange and cumin in a low oven, in which case the beans will be happy to hang out there.)
Rinse 1 cup brown rice and add it to the softened beans with two more cups of water or stock. Return pot to heat. Chop one medium onion, one bell pepper (Red is better, but green is fine. Lord knows I can't afford red.) and two handfuls of cilantro. Saute these ingredients with a little oil until the onion is nicely browned. Add the mire poix to the beans and rice, and taste to see if the rice is done. Cook cautiously until the resulting pottage is something you want to eat.
Good with salsa fresca, or (gasp) a fried egg.
This is the tastiest thing I have ever eaten in the name of multiculturalism.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Bad Idea Fridays: Membrillo

Dear readers, you might think that making quince jam does not count as a truly bad idea. Pish, you say, and also tosh- jam is always tasty, unless the fruit is rotten or the jam is burned. Sometimes even under these circumstances, edibility ensues. I say that you have never spoken with my inlaws about making membrillo.
A quick aside on the culture of my beloved: for some reason, jam is fraught with associations. I can't begin to comprehend what they are- but making preserves is not done. Well, of course it's done, because one has all this fruit and no one else can be trusted to can it, but one doesn't spread this fact around. Jam apparates, like horses in Jane Austen novels. There was a bit of teeth sucking when I announced my intentions. Then, there was a certain amount of trepidation in admitting to actually knowing a person who might know a recipe. Long story short, I'm not sure if this is a family secret or not. Even though I link over from Facebook, keep it on the downlow.
Get some quince. I had six, but one of them was the size of a child's head. You will probably want less than six, because there is room for only so much sliceable jam in most people's lives. (Quince are in the same subfamily of Rosaceae as apples and pears, and have a similar pome. The flavor is intensely floral; in fact, the best thing I have ever done with quince is letting them ripen in a bowl on the counter- it always smelled like I was baking pie. The fruit is full of pectin. A raw slice of quince tastes like every surface of your mouth is covered with a thin layer of peanut butter, also cider. Poach quince if you want to eat them for non-novelty reasons.) Peel, core, and slice the quince into 1/4 thick pieces. Poach in water until soft. Strain out the quince bits and puree. (Food processor, or mash them like potatoes, or put them through a ricer.) Measure your quince puree.
Now, for every four units of quince puree, you'll need one unit of water and three units of sugar. Make a simple syrup by simmering the water and sugar together in a large heavy pot until the sugar dissolves completely. Add the quince paste. Simmer gently- either on a burner or in a 300 degree oven- for three hours. Stir frequently to prevent burning. Use a long spoon, because somehow the combination of fruit paste and simple syrup results in a lava-like substance that can leap truly impressive distances when disturbed. Eventually, the magma will cook down enough so that the tracks of the spoon are reluctant to fill, and cooling a teaspoon or so of the mixture results in a bouncy, chewy sort of jam. Remove from heat, place into a lightly oiled loaf pan, and let cool. Slice lengthwise once and wrap tightly.
Slices of membrillo are traditionally served with Manchego cheese as a dessert. It would also be good with this, if you hate hard cheese or are actually a vegan. You could also put it on toast. Please be aware that if made according to instructions, the final product will not be spreadable- it's a slicing jam. It's pretty good, aside from the half-dozen burns on my hands. Also, I have seven cups of jam that no one here knows how to eat.
In the past, I've found liquid from poaching fruit makes an excellent syrup- for enlivening assorted dessert items. I thought to make some with the quince poaching liquid- I added a little tuna juice from a failed experiment with prickly pear jam because I didn't want it to go to waste. I cooked the whole thing down with a minimal amount of sugar and poured it into a gravy boat. It set up into the best jam ever, oh my goodness you guys, I want to marry this jam and Thanksgiving gravy can find another container because this one is mine.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Cabbage Salad

This is totally different from my kale salad recipe.
Chop 1 head cabbage into thin strips/squares. Add a good handful of chopped cilantro. Dress with 1/3 cup olive oil, 1 tbs sugar, salt and pepper to taste, and the juice of two lemons.
The citrus based quasi-vinaigrette is sort of Chilean- it's what C's nanny used to do, so it's the equivalent of mac'n'cheese for him. I will resort to nostalgia to turn someone solidly on team starch to team vegetables.
The deep love he holds for man'n'cheese is of more recent provenience.
Friday, November 5, 2010
The Cure for "Eating Locally Fridge"

Yeah, I don't know why all my pictures look like poop lately.
About a week after most people commit to eating more local food, their fridge is full of more greens than they can reasonably eat. Boiled greens, stir fried greens, sauteed greens, raw greens... a person gets tired. Thus, here's my recipe for "I SAY IT'S PESTO"- which is probably very much like the original form of pesto.
Peel six cloves of garlic. Chop coarsely in food processor with 1/4 cup olive oil and 1/2 tsp salt. (Or puree, I don't care.) Destem one bunch cilantro or parsley (which you might conveniently have left from your idiocy with chimp food). Add to food processor. Also destem an unreasonable amount of kale, spinach, arugula, mint, or more cilantro or parsley Put it all in the food processor. Puree, adding olive oil as needed to maintain goopiness. Add the juice of 1/2 lemon.
This is good on pasta, I will grant you. It's divine on green beans. It's also pretty good on greens that might not be so good in a pesto; blanched chard, turnip greens, or kale, chopped cabbage, maybe thinned with a little more lemon juice and use as a dressing for lettuce...
If you add 1/2 tsp of red pepper flakes, 1/4 tsp cumin, 1/4 tsp thyme, and use 2 tbs of wine vinegar instead of lemon juice and just parsley and cilantro, you have chimichuri. Which you should try on potatoes, fish, grilled meat, or vegetables. (Worst vegan ever.)
If you don't like cilantro but want to start, this is a good recipe. The anethole vaporizes, so the delightful soapy taste is absent. If you really want to trick your brain, eat this in circumstances that make you unusually happy. Then do it again. Soon, your brain will think that you like cilantro.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Tomato Salad
This one is pretty complex.
Find a good tomato. This one is a yellow Brandywine- my college roommate's (and only follower's) favorite tomato. It is one of mine, because it reminds me of her.
I do have around seven favorite tomato varieties.
Slice the tomato. Drizzle with good olive oil. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Try to eat with something other than fingers.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Beet Salad

My excuse for not going live earlier? June. Work has been... June.
I like to have a little salad in my lunch- my parents aren't crazed vegetable eaters, and it's a good way to get an extra serving in. This week, it's going to be beet salad, because I live in the middle of nowhere and being seasonal is difficult.
Crap, the farmer's market is going on right now. Be right back.
Hey, there were beets there! Justified! (Like most lunch items, serves me for four days.)
So grate two raw beets. This will leave you with a lot of grated beet. Make a quick vinaigrette by blending 1 tsp Dijon mustard (I like Inglehoffer)with 1/8 cup red wine vinegar and 1/4 cup olive oil. (Salad quality oil, whatever that means for you.) Add salt and pepper to taste, pour over grated beets. Taste. Adjust. Put in Tupperware so it can sit in a hot backpack for five hours.
It's a tasty little salad- nicely sweet. If you wanted to make it super Californian, you could use tahini instead of mustard and add some soy sauce and sesame seeds. If you wanted to make it Chilean, you'd cook the beets, peel them, and then do pretty much everything else the same.
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