Craving Carnitas

I'd been jonesing for tacos for days, and just hadn't got around to making them. Then, fortuitously, some friends said they were going to be in the 'hood one evening, which gave me the perfect excuse to try a new method for making carnitas. (And yes, I'm one of those people who tries out new recipes on guests, much to the chagrin of my mother who considered it much too risky.)

I'd already pulled a four-pound pork shoulder out of the freezer, it being a weekend and the perfect time for a nice slow braise on the stove. So I picked up some cotija cheese made by Albany's Ochoa's Queseria, cabbage for slaw, plus an avocado, salsa and tortillas. (I'm a huge fan of the organic tortillas from Three Sisters Nixtamal. It's a local company that makes masa using a traditional process called nixtamalization, where dried corn kernels are soaked in slaked lime, then ground and made into dough.)

Carnitas, which means "little meats," is made by simmering chunks of pork with citrus and spices for several hours until it's tender and on the verge of falling apart. I had some whey left over from making ricotta, so I decided to use it for the braising liquid, since the acids in the whey would help to break down and tenderize the meat. The method I used then calls for shredding the meat, roasting it in the oven (or in a cast iron pan on the grill) until any remaining liquid evaporates and the meat is crispy.

Warming the tortillas on a griddle is quick and easy, though I'm always tempted to pile them with heaps of fixin's, but exercising a teensy bit of restraint is worth the reward of the perfect bite, instead of bursting the taco or losing too much on your plate. Plus it means I can enjoy a few more of those longed-for tacos!

Carnitas

4 lbs. boneless pork shoulder
1 qt. whey, water or stock
1 onion, sliced in half lengthwise, then crosswise into 1/8” slices
8 cloves garlic
2 tsp. oregano
4 bay leaves
2 tsp. ground cumin
1 orange, quartered
1 Tbsp. kosher salt

Put all ingredients into large Dutch oven and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to simmer for 2-3 hours until meat is starting to fall apart and liquid is almost gone. If there is quite a bit of liquid left, remove the meat to a roasting pan, disposing of the orange peel and bay leaves. Bring the liquid in the pot to a boil and reduce until there is less than 1 cup remaining.

While liquid reduces, heat oven to 450°. When liquid has reduced, pour over meat in roasting pan and place in oven for 20-30 minutes or until it starts to brown. Shred any remaining large pieces.

Nopales, a Mexican Staple, Arrives in Oregon Markets

The other day I was at the farmers' market and was delighted to see a vendor displaying a basket of cactus paddles, called "nopales." Terrific in salsas and stews, they also go well with eggs and in salads. The following essay by Jodi Monroy, Director of Mixta Words and staffer at the Beaverton Farmers Market, is reprinted from the most recent market newsletter.

Nopales

Nopales (cactus paddles) are a staple food in parts of arid Mexico but not so much here in the Pacific Northwest, so we were amazed to find some at Denison Farms last week!  We love it when our farmers are innovative and push the agricultural limits. It makes the culinary possibilities so exciting.  And the very best part: Denison Farms sells them already de-spined! Trust me, that is a really good thing.

Nopales are traditionally used in Ensalada de Nopales (Cactus Salad) and then eaten as a side dish or pico de gallo-style. Ensalada de Nopales makes a unique topping for tacos or mixed with eggs for breakfast. Nopales' flavor has been described as almost like a green bean. Don’t be put off by the slippery texture or “baba” en español (like Okra)—it will dissipate as the nopales cook.

Classic recipes for Ensalada de Nopales almost always include lots of garlic and cilantro, like this one adapted from La Cocina De Leslie.

Ensalada de Nopales

1 lb. of nopales (cactus paddles), washed and sliced or chopped in 1/4" dice
1 bunch cilantro in two parts, half on the stem and half de-stemmed and chopped fine
3 cloves garlic
2 roma tomatoes, chopped
1/2 med. onion, chopped
1-2 Tbsp. vegetable oil
Juice of 1 lime
Salt

There are two ways to cook cactus paddles for Ensalada de Nopales. The traditional way of cooking nopales is to boil the cactus in water to cover in a medium saucepan with cilantro sprigs, garlic and a couple of pinches of salt for about 30 minutes. When done, fish out the cilantro sprigs and garlic and discard. Using a strainer, let the nopales sit until all of the liquid drains away.

The second method is one which reduces the amount of “baba” (gooey liquid) that the nopales release. Put the sliced or chopped cactus paddles in a non-stick skillet with the cilantro sprigs, garlic and a couple pinches of salt, without any water at all. Cover and cook over low heat. Within minutes the nopales will start to release their own liquid, which is plenty to completely cook the nopales. Continue to simmer over low heat, stirring occasionally, until all of the liquid has been absorbed and the nopales are completely cooked with very little to no “baba” (gooey liquid). Discard the cilantro sprigs and garlic.

And now for the ensalada: gently mix together the cactus, chopped onion, tomato and the chopped portion of the cilantro. Toss with vegetable oil and lime juice and season lightly with salt. ¡Provecho!

Top photo by Diógenes el Pacífico/Flickr.

Love Authentic Mexican? Kelly Myers' Xico Delivers

Recently I had reason to recall an evening we spent in Mexico several years ago:

"Strolling through the Centro Historico on a moonlit evening, a light breeze causing the temperature to dip down to, oh, 78 degrees. The doorways were lit by wrought iron streetlamps, people were just beginning to leave their day at the beach to have dinner." Then, arriving at our restaurant, "we sat and listened to the people chatting with their families and scolding their kids, the waiters joking with their tables and taking orders. It was a warm night and the voices, all in Spanish, blended with the music floating on the light evening breeze."

Pollo en molé poblano.

Memories of the warmth, the languor, the smell of chiles and limes and the sea all swirled around me during our dinner at Xico (pron. CHEE-koh), Kelly Myers' tiny jewel of a restaurant on Division. It might just as well have been on Mazatlan's Plazuela Machado, so strongly did it remind me of the magical days we spent in that colonial town.

And it's no wonder. Like the best Mexican restaurants, Myers grinds all her own masa in-house from (non-GMO) field corn that goes into the tortillas, tacos, huaraches, tlacoyos, chips, quesadillas and masa-based dishes. Same goes for the plethora of chiles—including dried and fresh guajillo, ancho, poblano, arbol, mulato and others—that flavor the authentic handmade molés, salsas and other sauces and gently infuse so many of her dishes.

Taco trio on handmade field corn tortillas.

Family-friendly pricing with a kids' menu that doesn't stoop to pander, the menu has a strong list of antojitos, or small plates, that range from chips and fry bread to guacamole and hefty salads. The "platos" are entrées that include classics like chicken molé, a roasted whole trout pozole (top photo) that's been called crush-worthy by the Oregonian's Mike Russell, and a chile-braised pork shoulder-and-belly and a Mexican-style grilled flank that are both to die for.

Flourless chocolate cake with chile-chocolate ganache and cinnamon chantilly.

While I don't mean to slight a treasured restaurant from the past, I actually prefer the setting of this place over the much-lamented Cafe Azul,  which carried the lone torch of authentic Mexican cuisine at the time. Contrasted with Azul's more formal setting, Xico is relaxingly casual, with a strong cocktail menu and a much-touted wine list, the perfect place to enjoy an intimate dinner for two or gather with a larger group (the better to tour the menu…hint, hint).

Details: Xico, 3715 SE Division St. 503-548-6343.

Impromptu: Pork Tacos At Our House!

The plan had been in place for weeks, and we were looking forward to having a Saturday night dinner on the deck at the home of good friends. We'd even been given the menu, the better to whet our appetites in advance of the evening: cocktails and tomato-basil bruschetta to start, then grilled pork ribs, corn salad and the hostess's gramma's green beans. Boysenberry pie for dessert.

Yeah, we were drooling, too.

Pork before.

Saturday morning dawned warm and sunny, with the promise of a beautiful, not-too-warm Portland evening for the dinner. Then around mid-morning we got a call. A painting project had run over schedule, an unexpected memorial service had come up for that afternoon. Could we reschedule the deck dinner and go out instead? Maybe margaritas and Mexican at a place with outdoor seating?

Pork after.

Though there are several great places in town that fit that bill, I'd really been looking forward to spending time with our friends without the distractions and constraints of a restaurant meal. Why not just change locations and come over to our house? Dave's margaritas are as good, if not better, than any I've had out and, sticking with the Mexican theme, I could throw some pork on to braise for tacos and we could pot luck the condiments.

After hanging up I looked around, realizing the house was a complete shambles. Ack! Good thing we were eating outside…and we could clean up enough that, in the dim evening light, it might not look too awful.

Ready to go…take a seat!

On the way to the store I ran into my neighbor Susana, who waxed poetic about the dinner she'd made the night before featuring short ribs braised in apricots and cherries. We agreed it would be perfect for the pulled pork I needed for the tacos so, armed with her inspiration, I bought the necessary ingredients, came home, threw it all together and three hours later had the most luscious pulled pork ever.

And our dinner that evening? Perfection…just like we'd planned it all along.

Pork Tacos with Apricot, Cherry and White Wine Pulled Pork

For the pulled pork:
2 Tbsp. vegetable oil
1-2 medium yellow onions, chopped fine
3 large cloves garlic
2 c. cherries, pitted and halved (I used yellow Rainiers)
2 c. apricots, pitted and quartered
5 lbs. pork shoulder, cut into large chunks
2 1/2 c. dry white wine (I used a dry Pinot Grigio)
3 bay leaves
Salt and pepper to taste

For the tacos:
Corn tortillas (order them in advance from Por Que No…awesome!)
Cabbage slaw with lime vinaigrette
Guacamole
Corn or cherry salsa
Tomato salsa
Cotilla cheese, crumbled
Sour cream
Limes, quartered
Assorted bottled chile sauces

Preheat oven to 325°.

Heat the oil in a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat. When it shimmers, add onions and garlic and sauté till translucent. Add remaining ingredients and bring to a boil. Cover and place pot in oven for 3 hours until pork is falling apart.

Remove pot from oven, and transfer the chunks of pork to a large platter, leaving cooking liquid in pot. Bring liquid in pot to a boil, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking, and reduce until most of liquid has evaporated and it is a syrupy consistency. While liquid is reducing, smash pork with back of spoon or pull apart with a fork. When liquid in pot has finished reducing, add pork back to pot and combine.

Serve with condiments.

This pulled pork would be amazing with any recipe calling for pulled pork, and is infinitely variable with any seasonal fruit…think plums, peaches, apples, etc. You could also add whole chiles like ancho or poblano to give it some heat.

Treasure on 28th

You know how it is. I didn't want to get my hopes up because I'd been disappointed before. I'd read a few things, heard a little more and even had friends say it was worth a shot.

Crab tacos.

So when the opportunity arose last Friday to meet friends for dinner, the chosen rendezvous point was Fonda Rosa, a new Mexican place on NE 28th. Owned by Teresa Brooks-Hernandez and her husband, Hugo Hernandez, it supersedes Teresa's resale clothing shop that was a placeholder until they could save enough to open their restaurant.

Spinach and goat cheese cakes.

And their persistence has definitely paid off. From the appetizer of a startlingly fresh and tasty ceviche to the freshly made tortillas to the entrees, this place has it going on. Originally from Colima, Hugo grew up around his family's restaurant where everything was made from scratch. The menu reflects the cuisine of Mexico's left coast, and he shows a deft touch with seafood.

Crab enchiladas.

We started with their great house margaritas made just the way Dave does here at home with lots of lime juice and no stinkin' mixes. Those came with an appetizer of the aforementioned ceviche (top) and crab tacos in crispy tortillas with pico de gallo and a wonderfully savory chile sauce that didn't overwhelm the delicate flavor of the plentiful chunks of crab.

Fish tacos.

For my entree I had to have the crab enchiladas, two corn tortillas filled with big chunks of crab and topped with a salsa verde, pico de gallo and a squiggle of crema. These were totally amazing, a creamy, lovely ode to my favorite crustacean. I have to say the rice that came with it was underwhelming with little flavor and a clumpy texture, an anomaly compared to the rest of the offerings.

And the fish tacos, as I said before, show Hernandez's knowing hand with seafood. Perfectly cooked chunks of white fish, still tender and sprinkled with the merest amount of pico de gallo, red cabbage and lime, were served with the traditional accompaniment of guacamole, salsa and beans. The flavors and preparations are so right and, having just come back from Mexico, were just what we needed to feel like we never left.

Details: Fonda Rosa, 108 NE 28th Ave. at the corner of Couch. Phone 503-235-3828.

Back to Mexico for Dinner

It's no surprise that we're still reliving, if only virtually, our vacation to Mazatlan, considering the cold weather that's been visited upon us since our return. So when I saw giant pork shoulder roasts on sale at New Seasons, I had to grab one.

Browning the meat.

Then I pulled out my collection of cookbooks by Diana Kennedy, the woman who single-handedly brought Mexican cuisine to the attention of Americans who thought of Mexican food as refried beans and yellow cheese. She revealed the complex flavors and preparations, as well as the regional differences, in this ancient cuisine that was local, fresh and sustainable before we were even a glint in our founding fathers' eyes.

Simmering the ingredients.

We are crazy for carnitas, and when I saw her recipe for Carnitas Caseras, or home-cooked carnitas, it was a done deal. The preparation is relatively fast and easy and takes minimal effort, being basically a braised dish, and I had most of the ingredients on hand. So it was brown the meat, throw in the rest of the ingredients, let it simmer and then reduce the liquid. Easy!

After reducing the liquid.

Served with rice, guacamole, salsa, a salad and corn tortillas, it was like being back on the Malecon, feeling the warm breeze off the ocean. Maybe next time we take this trip we'll bring some friends along!

Carnitas Caseras (Home-Cooked Carnitas)
Adapted from The Art of Mexican Cooking by Diana Kennedy

4 Tbsp. lard or canola oil
4 lbs. pork shoulder roast, cut in 1-inch cubes
1 medium onion, chopped
4 fresh marjoram sprigs or 1/2 tsp. dried
4 fresh thyme sprigs or 1/2 tsp. dried
3 bay leaves, broken up
1/2 tsp. fresh-ground pepper
1 orange, cut into eighths
1 c. milk
Salt to taste

Heat the lard or oil in a heavy braising pot, add the meat to the pan without crowding it and brown in batches. Remove the meat and saute the onion until softened, scraping up the brown bits from the meat. Put the meat back in with the onion and stir in the remaining ingredients. Cover the pan and simmer over low heat for 40 minutes. Remove the lid, increase the heat and fry, stirring and scraping until the pan juices have been absorbed, about 15 minutes. Drain off any extra fat and serve.

The carnitas may be prepared ahead up to the point of the final frying, but they should be kept covered so that the meat does not dry out.

Mexican Infusion

Traveling, to me, is all about absorbing everything around me, from the scents to the tastes to the sounds and the textures, even the feeling of the air and the angle of the sun. Obviously the food is a big part of that, and I'll come home craving the flavors of the place, almost as if they've insinuated themselves into my physical makeup. Toasted sesame oil and fish sauce were the ones that stuck with me from Korea, seaweed and miso from Japan, choucroute from Alsace.

This morning we woke up with a yen for chilaquiles like those we had at Playa Bruja in Mazatlan, eggs scrambled with pieces of fried tortilla. Though we didn't have a red chile sauce to top them, there were corn tortillas in the freezer, and the makings for pico de gallo on hand. With no view of the ocean or the sound of the waves crashing on the beach to accompany the meal, they still managed to bring back, even if only fleetingly, the feeling of the place.

Chilaquiles

2 Tbsp. vegetable oil
4 tortillas, sliced into strips
1/4 onion, chopped fine
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 jalapeño pepper, seeds removed and flesh minced
1 tomato, seeded and chopped fine
8 eggs
Salt and pepper, to taste
Salsa or red chile sauce, optional

Heat 2 Tbsp. oil in frying pan and add tortilla strips a few at a time, browning slightly and removing to paper towels to drain. Break eggs in bowl and beat to combine. In a clean frying pan heat one tablespoon oil, add onion, garlic and pepper and saute till tender. Add tomatoes, eggs and fried tortilla strips and cook till eggs are set. Season to taste with salt and pepper and serve with chile sauce or salsa.