Yesterday, I learned that my father finally shared his Arroz Valenciana recipe with my brother Angelo.
The bright yellow sticky dish made of sticky rice is one of his most guarded recipes. He will show us how to make it but never discussing measures and cooking procedures. The Arroz Valenciana you see below was made by my brother under my father's guidance. It's a sign that he trusts my brother in the kitchen and that makes me proud of Angelo.
Cooking is a traditional art form for my family, though there are no professional cooks in ours. We just take our food seriously.
My father is the master visionary, his cooking style set and his kitchen requiring a workshop-like set-up. He requires only to smell to determine the ingredients of a dish set before him. In his tattered shirt and house shorts, he will peel, slice, grate and grind each piece of ingredient to perfection. Once he is ready, he sets the fire and his favorite wok in place. Using only the aroma of a dish to guide him,
he adds one ingredient after the other. His aging hands deftly stirring the dish as the aroma changes, becomes richer and turns into perfection ready to be served.With him, there are no short cuts and no excuses.
|Papa's Crabs with Garlic, Chilies and Oyster Sauce|
My mother is the skilled artisan. Often under appreciated but always prolific. My best home-cooked recipes come from her. She is the creative kusinera, making do with what is available in the kitchen but never letting you know it. Her soups are what I miss the most every time I get sick. Her ingredients are common and her style is steeped in home-cooked tradition. Her food always fills the stomach and the heart.
Angelo is the one who wants to make a living out of cooking. As a young kid he's had many interests- RPG, basketball, swimming and opera singing (at seven he was a fan of Luciano Pavarotti). Once he hit his teen years, he became interested in girls and cooking. We all thought that he would eventually lose interest in both. But apparently he still hasn't. He remains the messiest kitchen user but the most natural one. it is always a joy to experience something new and weird with him. I hope he becomes an internationally known chef who will gift his supportive ate (older sister) with an Italian villa in the Lake Como neighborhood one day.
|Mama's classic Macaroi salad|
|Lifted from Gina Tynan;s pinterest board, originally from Google.com|
PATA AND BEANS
- 8 cups water
- 400 grams white kidney beans, soaked overnight
- 0.800 kg, pork hocks or pata (around 4-5 pieces)
- 1 kg fresh native tomatoes (or 1 can whole peeled, stewed tomatoes)
- 250 ml. tomato paste
- 1/3 cup celery stalks, cut into 1/4 inch pieces
- 1 pc. carrot, peeled and cut into 1/4 inch thick circles
- 3 pcs. onions, finely chopped
- 1 clove garlic, peeled, finely chopped
- 1 tsp. ground oregano
- 1 tsp. dried, crushed basil
- 1 tsp. dried, crushed thyme
- 1/2 cup honey
- 2 tbsp. muscovado (brown) sugar
- 1/2 cup light Japanese soy sauce
- 1 tablespoon crushed peppercorn
HOW TO MAKE:
Soak the beans overnight, drain and boil in 4 cups of water for 4 hours.
Parboil the tomatoes. Then peel, seed and set aside.
Prepare everything once you have been boiling the beans for 2 1/2 hours.
On the third hour of boiling the beans, add in the onions, garlic, celery, carrots and pata. Once the dish comes to a boil, add the tomatoes and tomato paste. As much as possible, use tomato paste as it is sweeter. I also use pata because the boiled cartilege surrounding the bone helos create a jelly-like texture that won't be present if you use other cuts.
Add in water from time to time, making sure that the pata and the beans are submerged in water all the time.
Mix and let it simmer for about 45 minutes or as long as the pork hocks have reached the level of tenderness you want (mine is usually from 45 minutes to one hour and fifteen minutes).
Mix in all the remaining ingredients and let it the dish simmer for another 15 minutes.
Let it cool for about 5 minutes before serving. Serves 6-8 people who are not terribly hungry.