Bilingual In The Boonies » food

Dear Friends, Happy Thanksgiving

Carrie — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 13:40:45 +0000

Just a note of Thank You for You while I take a semi-silence break over here to enjoy time with my family — and miss the family who is far away.

For some wonderful holiday inspiration, please check out the Tiki Tiki’s posts this week about food, family, and tradition. We got some great writers to share their stories. They’ll make you all warm inside.

In the meantime, I have made my pumpkin flan with gingersnap crust already, and the maple, orange, cranberries are in the fridge. Up next, a walk in the woods…and my brother-in-law is doing the rest. That’s not bad.

Oh, and goodness, check out these Latino-inspired Thanksgiving recipes that the great Laura (who reads this stuff here) sent me. I may do Thanksgiving all year long. And, I am so making Grilled Turkey Cuban Sandwiches.

Blessings to you and yours…and thank you for you.

Chicharinas and Chicharrones

Carrie — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 16:06:55 +0000

There were countless Saturday mid-mornings when I would open my bedroom door and up my nose would waft the smell of chicharrones, my younger brother’s snack-of-choice.

It just wasn’t the aroma I needed before noon, but my brother was addicted.

I thought of him first when I accepted the free bags of chicharinas and cinammon churros from the nice lady at Rudolph Foods. I thought she was calling the chicharrones “chicharinas” as some sort of new marketing ploy. Like, “Hey, let’s call this little fat bomb a ‘chicharina’ and make people ‘think’ they are not ‘chicharrones.”

So, initially, I was disappointed. The chicharinas are made of wheat. I wanted the porky fat bomb, a fat bomb that wouldn’t count because I didn’t buy them, right?

OK, so even before I opened them, I went to my favorite taco truck (The one on Charlotte near Watts Ave., if you are in Nashville) and picked up 28 spicy pork and asada tacos and drove to a friend’s house for a quickie Friday night dinner hangout.

She was making her famous guacamole, pictured above. I laid out the chile and lime chicharinas next to the guac, and listened. Everyone loved them. I loved them so much, I held half the bag back! (See it in the background of the picture?) And, then I got caught and everyone else finished off my free blog-earned payola chicharinas.

The cinammon churros were a hit with the kids. I think they’d go great on vanilla ice cream or chai tea and while I enjoyed them, they made me long for the hot, sugary ones I used to get at the Morro Castle on N.W. 7th Street in Miami. But, hey, I’m in Nashville, so que remedio?

Anyway, having gotten all nostalgic over chicharrones, I called my brother and asked him what the hell was up with all that pork rind eating he did as a teen-ager.

“I just loved them, especially abuela’s chicharrones because they had like a 1/4-inch of fat stuck to them,” he said, sounding like an addict about to relapse.

“The best,” he continued. “was when I needed a salty and a sweet and I would eat a chicharron and then have a peanut butter cup!”

I saw my skinny brother in a whole new light in that moment: As a pre-menstrual woman.

Anyway, my brother said he has to step widely around the bags of chicharrones at his New Jersey grocery store.

Should he relapse, Rudolph , who also own’s Pepe’s chicharrones, says they make the best. (They’ve even got a tri-fold, double-sided glossy with pork rind info and pictures to prove the point). They’ve also got some interesting recipes on the site.

OK, Latinos, talk pork fat to me…Why do we like it so much?

And to make the FTC happy, the only compensation I got for this post was two bags of chicharinas and two bags of churros from Rudolph and some blog fodder.

Feedburner Freakout

Carrie — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 13:53:12 +0000

My apologizies to email subscribers of the Boonie Blog. You are getting links to old posts and I have no idea how to fix it. It seems Feedburner gets un poco loco when you transfer a feed from one site to another and regurgitates the past. I have found several complaints in their help forum, but no one from the company — owned by Google — has answered.

So, I may just Twitter them to death until I get some resolution.

In the meantime, I did learn that I did not have to create a new feed and ask email subscribers to switch over. I simply could have transferred the feed y ya. So, if you haven’t re-signedup yet, ixnay on the sign-up-ay. And hey, if you want to unsubscribe, now is the time.

Very few things bring me to near-tears of frustration…but this blog transfer managed to do that last week…

To make up for the cyber flakiness, I am going to tell you this week about those free chile and lime chicharinas and churros I gladly accepted for free as Mommy Blog Payola…I usually turn down free gifts, but seriously, would you turn down free churros?

All I want for Christmas: Pastelitos

Carrie — Mon, 11 Dec 2006 21:31:00 +0000

The communal kitchenette in my Southern Illinois college dorm was down the hallway and very public. I learned quickly to keep my black bean habit to myself as the girls would poke their heads in, crinkle their pert noses and ask me things like whether I was cooking bugs, what country I was from, and how I could eat things of that color.
I am not sharing this to paint people from Illinois as small-minded because back then, living in the florescent glow of the mid-80s and intoxicated by lacquer hairspray, I shamefully crinkled my long nose at the couscous and curry of my international student friends. Boba.
The story is shared more to illustrate that the shipping and sending of Cuban foods is a two decade tradition. My parents generously have shipped me food since I left home and ventured to these places forsaken of dulce de leche and guava paste.
When I moved to Tennessee, a tiny community of Cubans eventually found me (like attracts like, no?) and pointed me toward the international market where I could score plantains, black beans and Bustelo.
Each time my parents prepare to drive here (they don’t fly), they call to ask what I want. In years past, there usually was something I was craving, but could not find. Eventually, the list has gotten shorter. The fabulous little market expanded its Latin foods as the community here has grown and then in 2003 the most glorious of all things happened: Publix opened not too far from my Boonie house. I was pregnant then and despite swollen feet, I would stand in front of the frozen Goya foods section, complete with cut-up yuca and mamey pulp, and grin como una loca. I just loved looking. I have a love of Publix that goes very deep. My husband believes me to be ill.
But anyway, my parents will be here in a few days and I am sure my father already is packing up the car. The call will come any minute. “Que quieres? Café? Yuca? Guayaba? Platanitos? Mojo?’’ Our kitchen will look like a Sedano’s.
Truth is, I can get most anything Cuban in a can or package. My requests now are for pastelitos and Cuban bread. (The Publix baker sheepishly confessed he doesn’t make traditional Cuban bread because the Americans didn’t like it. He sticks French bread in the paper sleeves labeled “Cuban Bread.” Personally, I think that’s a crime and one day I will send my mom in there to wag a finger at him.)
So in a matter of days, my box of pasteles and my soft, lardy bread will be here. I will eat as many as I can and then swipe my husband’s if I can. And, as usual, I will begin my year hoping some Cuban from Miami moves here and opens a real bakery…(know anybody?)…and of course, thanking my parents for two decades of transporting the goods across state lines.