Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Sangria de Cádiz

Like other popular summer cocktails in Europe (example: the Italian "spritz"), citrus is the star when making authentic Spanish sangria. The recipe for sangria changes depending upon where one has it in Spain. The commonality, however, is that the added fruit was always oranges. And rightfully so. Valencia oranges are local, super-saturated with juice, and could be mistaken for candy by the sweetness. Apples are a popular  "sangria fruit" in the U.S., however very few apples found their way into my glass in Spain. Culture shock. Perhaps that is purely an American trait?


In Madrid, brandy was added (the bartenders also told me), and gives a very subtle depth of flavor. Thinly-sliced lemon rings clung to the perimeters of  glass pitchers. These were works of art and images I will always remember: Chunky glass vessels brimming with burgundy sangria but contrasted with vibrant yellow rings. Perhaps it is the "artist" in me, but I found this color-combination quite striking. It was like a having a sophisticated "Tinto de Verano" (a popular spritzer of lemon soda and red wine...Charlie's addiction).

Further south, in Cádiz, I detected brandy again ...and with (surprise!) oranges. However, cinnamon was added, and was (perhaps) the best sangria I have ever had. The combination was beautiful. The addition of cinnamon might be a bit scary, but do try it. It is a fantastic surprise to your taste buds. This I found to be the best recipe ...and so distinctly Spanish.

Picking a wine is also very important. Don't just buy "cheap" red wine. Similar to when you cook with wine, you want to add one that you like to drink on its own. You want to avoid something heavy like a Tempranillo. The lighter the better. Try a table wine like a young Cabernet or a Douro from Portugal. These are fairly easy to find. If you can get your hands on a pure, bare-bones, Spanish vino tinto, get it! The label will simply say "vino tinto" or "vino de la mesa". 

Ingredients:
1 single (mini) bottle of brandy
1 bottle of red table wine
Cinnamon sticks (3-4)
(depending upon taste) one-fourth to one-third of a bottle of Lemon soda (Sprite is fine. If you have access to authentic Spanish exports, buy a bottle of "Gaseosa" soda or "Kas" limón) 
1 lemon, sliced
2-3 oranges, sliced


Mix all ingredients (including the cinnamon sticks) in a pitcher. Squeeze some of your citrus juice into the mix as well. Try to mix well enough to get some specks of cinnamon off the stick and into your mixture. Serve in a glass or tumbler with a cinnamon stick as garnish. ¡Qué rico!

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Pão caseiro integral



I realize that nobody in their right mind would dare turn on their oven in hot, humid, 80F weather. "The norm" never affected us at The Piccolo Gourmet. When we want to bake,  darn it, we are going to bake. What better way to celebrate America's birthday than to cook something from another country? Seriously. The United States is comprised of children from countless generations of immigrants. I find nothing wrong with baking Portuguese bread on the 4th of July; it is (perhaps) just as patriotic as baking a southern Pecan Pie. In addition, at this time last year, I was roaming the streets of Lisboa... and probably with a slice of pão integral in my bag.

Was it scary attempting this without the help of Charlie? Absolutely. He is the chemist of the family, and knows the science of baking quite well. Our friend Jenny (a professional baker) was also not at my side, which made me sweat even more. However, the trial went well, and the secret that I had found (as with all ethnic cooking) was "time". Oh, and add "patience" to the list as well.

I went for a run while my bread was proofing for the second time (my curiosity had to stop checking on the rising of the dough every 5 miliseconds).  While jogging I thought of my Dad's mom,  mi abuela Chilena. She mothered sixteen children and baked fresh bread every single day. Her kitchen was about the size of ours, and in the summer months, the temperature outside today was not that far off from the campo of Santiago de Chile. How, I wonder, did my grandma do it? Where did she learn how to bake? From her mom--my great-grandmother? These are questions that I am sure others ask of their families and man, I wish I knew the answer!

There are a slough of recipes (receitas) for baking breads from Portugal. This is a culture that is infamous for their mastery of baking. I will refrain from adding the recipe that I used, as it is one of several versions. Simply choose which works best for you. My favorite Portuguese breads (Broa de Milho and Pão da Avó) I will have to try making later when I have the proper flours (and when it is not the middle of summer). For now, pão integral (or whole wheat bread) will do, and trust me, it did. A slice of warm, freshly baked bread topped with olive oil and salt? There is not much else that can get better than that. Happy Independence Day, America. And to all the "Silva"s that I met a year ago, obrigado por essas ótimas lembranças!