Who are you? (or, Les goûts réunis en Latinoamericana)

Dear Colleague,

I was, as usual, thinking about tacos. Tacos de carne asada with tomatillo salsa and the ubiquitous signifier of Mexican food, the lime.

But what got me started thinking about tacos? I believe it was this article by Coriún Aharonián about a Latin American musical identity.

Here is the full citation:
Coriún Aharonián, “Factores de Identidad Musical Latinoamericana Tras Cinco Siglos de Conquista, Dominación y Mestizaje,” Latin American Music Review / Revista de Música Latinoamericana 15, no. 2 (October 1, 1994): 189–225.

At some point a history of the taco is in order. Today, however, I need to examine the blending of culinary cultures that become the tacos de carne asada (here is a gratuitous photo of some Anasazi beans cooked in a stone-burnished clay pot from Columbia; apparently these clay pots have been in use in what we now call Latin America for centuries).

Our tacos pictured above have beef (Spanish import), beans and corn (the Americas), cow cheese (another European import), chile peppers (the Americas), onions (Asia, 5000 BCE, but possibly growing wild on every continent at the same time), and our signifyin' lime (Southeast Asia, ca. 4000 BCE). Not shown and often included in Mexican-American style tacos and not used here are tomatoes (New World fruit). So with only two elements here from the Americas, how are these delicious entities considered so . . . Mexican, New World, non-European? As in Aharonián's article, how do you give one single identity to Latin American musics when there are so many contributing factors and after five centuries of blending, is such a thing even possible?

After Columbus got lost and crashed into the Caribbean (quite a bit off from his original destination), the so-called Columbian Exchange began: the boundless exchange of plants, animals, cultures, and people (also known as slaves) between the Americas, Africa, Europe, and Asia.

People gotta eat and will eat what is available to them. Spaniards brought cows (and cheese) to Mexico, and probably citrus and onions. Hey, why don't we try some of these corn things, mix it with some beans, add some flavor with these chiles, and throw some meat and cheese on it? So that is Mexican food, a combination of European, Asian, and Native ingredients. Latin American music works the same way. Let's take one of our favorite Iberian composers, Santiago de Murcia. Born and active in Spain, his guitar music found its way to Mexico.  The collection includes pieces that are written in the prevailing European styles and also contains African-influenced pieces. After the Cortez mission and the establishment of Spanish culture in the area of Latin America, two particular European dances, the Sarabande and the Chaconne, came back to the Old World a little different. They were "infected" with Native particles. Are these European dances now considered Mexican?

My point (yes, I know you are stunned that I have one) is that after several centuries of blending, the imported and incorporated components of Latin American music and cuisine are now part of the musical and culinary landscapes. And for our tacos de carne asada all of their components when used in conjunction function as signifiers for Mexican food. Just as the Sarabande and Chaconne, with their ethereal New World elements, are still decidedly French.

All that is left is to pair the tacos with a French wine and call it a day.

I remain, YMH&OS,

Quantzalcoatl

To be in Provence

Dear Colleague,

We should be in our warmest time of the year, but for some unforeseen reason, we are having a mild July. These slight breezes in the morning and late evenings make me wish for a vacation in a coastal European town. You know, a small French town, munching on fresh bread, a cheap bottle of red wine while the day passes before you. But alas, I will have to make do with my backyard. Mais telle est la vie.

Sundays are a wonderful day for relaxing, reading, a good wine and a simple meal. I found a menu for a Picnic in Provence in Bon Appétit and I thought it perfect for our mild day. 

Provençal food is characterized by the presence of tomato, garlic and olive oil. This is, as I am sure you are aware, a region of fine food. Dishes a la Provençale are extremely varied and fresh is a key word. Onions, olives, mushrooms, anchovies and eggplant also play a prominent role in dishes.

Sources: Food Lover’sCompanion and Larousse Gastronomique

You can find the entire menu here.

It is:

Roast Provençal Chicken

Marinated Summer Vegetables

White Bean Tapenade

Little Apricot Cakes

I made a few changes to the recipes but only slightly.

For the chicken I did not actually have herbes de Provence, but I had all the ingredients I needed to make it.

Basically it is a mixture of the following dried herbs: Basil, Fennel seed, Lavender, Marjoram, Rosemary, Sage, Summer Savory and Thyme.

I used basil, lavender, marjoram, rosemary (fresh), sage(fresh) and thyme. I added coarse sea salt and black peppercorns mixed it with olive oil and spread the mixture over the chicken and stuffed as much under the skin as possible. I also stuffed the chicken with butter and juiced a Meyer Lemon over the top, putting the lemon in the cavity of the chicken. I roasted the chicken on the grill.

C'était magnifique. 

For the Marinated Summer Vegetables, I used zucchini (summer, which has a yellow color and regular),

Japanese eggplant and yellow and green sweet peppers. I roasted the garlic before adding it to the mix. I put the entire thing in a jar and let it set out for a day.

I followed the recipes for the tapenade, it was fairly simple. Serving it with the freshest french bread I could fine. The little cakes were such a nice little treat and we had several left over making a nice breakfast in the morning. 

I recommend for this meal only the best olive oil you can get your hands on. I personally like San Damiano from Italy. An excellent and not to expensive oil.The farm is run by the daughters of the man who started the business. Small, yet very good. 

I served the meal with a Rosé. (Gerard Bertrand - clean, French, dry, crisp and went very well with the chicken)

Un beau dîner. Indeed

But no meal is complete without music. I have created what I think is a most appropriate soundtrack. Enjoy.

C’est Magnifique – Arielle Dombasle

Love duet Manon Lescaut - Puccini

The Terra Nova Consort - Que disès, mei bon fraire

La vie en rose - Edith Piaf

Je Me'Ennuie - Marlene Dietrich

Jacques Martin Hotteterre - Suite No. 1 in G minor - Menuets I & II - Philippe Alain-Dupre
Complainte de la Butte - Rufus Wainwright

Hopefully we will be lucky and the weather will stay, but this is Houston, so unfortunately not. But we can dream.

I remain,

The Mad List Maker

Folks call me Dill

Dear Colleague,

    Our weather, in the swamp that is the Gulf Coast, is thick with humidity this week. Not great for the

human, but wonderful for the herb. My garden, she does grow with dreamy scents. I am particularly interested in my Dill plant. It has grown to the size of a bush.

    When I look at my plant, I think of J.S. Bach. I imagine him a stoutly fellow, smiling as he wondered the streets, his puffy cheeks grinning at the ladies as they passed, his ear hearing a tune for the Sunday service. I don’t know why, but I imagine him as fuzzy.

     My Dill plant has long stems and branching out from them are fuzzy arms of the herb, thousands and thousands of fuzzy arms. The extensions much like Bach’s family - his children, his music.

     I don’t have to tell you Bach’s history, as I am sure you know it well, but I feel I have much to tell you about Dill and share with you a simple recipe for a tuna fish sandwich. I know, such a common folk thing, but oh so wonderful when made correctly.

     First to Dill – It is known as Anethum graveloens, part of the carrot family. This fact surprised me, but if you think of the ends of a carrot, you might could see a resemblance. So many times the herb gets lumped with Anise or Fennel, (sometimes called false anise or bastard fennel) but on my tongue I taste a whole different flavor.

     I go back to Bach again, and the Partita in A minor for flute. The piece should seem simple, yet the notes on the page are enough to scare any beginning flutist into thinking Bach was a masochist. There are those who say, the piece is just another extension of his Sonatas, a solo part mixed with his love of notes. But yet, this piece does not roll off my fingers like the Sonatas. It has a different coloring.

Yes I know dear friend, I can’t seem to keep my head on one subject, but don’t you see this is how an herb works, a piece of music works – we never stay in one place when using them.

     There is an old wives tale if you hang a bunch of Dill over your door you will be protected against witches. I wonder if it works for door-to-door salesmen. And Dill is mentioned some 5,000 years ago in Egyptian writings. In Roman times it was a symbol of vitality and the oil mixed with potions was used to soothe colicky babies. This is part of where the name Dill comes from. In Old Norse the world dilla means ‘to lull’. (My sources if you wonder are from Reader’s Digest Magic and Medicine of Plants, A $1 purchase at a sale and Medicinal Herbs by Patricia Turcotte, a gift from my mother)

     As for the culinary uses we all know the herb in pickles, fish, and potato dishes. The Germans love it. In North Africa the seeds are used in preparation of meat and in the Soviet Union used in salmon and crayfish.

And you don’t need much, which is why my plant gets so big. I can’t use it fast enough!

     Now let’s talk tuna. People dislike tuna fish sandwiches because they are made with three things – bad tuna, lots of mayo and relish. What a sad state of affairs when we think this is a tuna sandwich!  Of course I know that is the simple easy way, but would you go about practicing the Partita the simple easy way or would you dig in and do it right? Of Course!

My tuna sandwich:

• First start with the best tuna you can get. Canned or jarred is fine but get top quality.
• A dollop of mayonnaise
• 1-2 tsp of grain mustard or Dijon (never yellow)
• A tablespoon of capers finally minced
• A tablespoon of onion minced (I like red but white will do)
• 1-2 tsp of either red wine vinegar or lemon juice
• Dill – I add about ½ a tsp but sometimes more (chopped)
• Salt and pepper
• Really good bread. Sour dough baguettes are wonderful. But plain ol’ wheat works also.
• Serve with Sea Salt and Vinegar chips and a dill pickle.

Voila!

I think Bach would approve and I can think there might have been a smear or two of juice on his manuscript as he enjoyed his lunch and worked away.

Please send my best to all those afar.

And I remain,

The Mad List Maker