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

Iberia and the New World (¿Por aquí o para llevar?)

Dear Colleague,

To help prepare emotionally, as well as intellectually and musically, for the concert of Baroque, Renaissance, and Traditional music from Spain and Latin America (and one piece of Yaqui Indian origins), a sampling of cuisine from Spain, Mexico, and Argentina was needed.

The menu:

Paella (from Steve Raichlen's Healthy Latin Cuisine), substituting squid rings and bay scallops for the shrimp.

Posole (with blue corn hominy) (After I browned the pork loin chunks I just tossed everything into the slow cooker; may have overdone the Chimayo chile pepper for the taste of some . . . )

Tacos de carne asada (After rolling out a few tortillas by hand, I lost patience and just grabbed a package of the local corn tortillas I always have around, for just such an emergency) A good marinade of lime juice, salt, and olive oil worked well on the meat.

Matambre. This recipe comes from an older Time-Life book we bought at a used book store. The most difficult part is the flaying of the skirt steak. Next time I'm having the butcher do it, or at least make sure my knives are properly sharpened. That is another story for another time . . .

And the blending of cuisines: risotto with Chimayo chile, shiitake mushrooms, and sweet potatoes.
This seems almost redundant given that the paella is the Spanish version of risotto, but this had no seafood in it. The chicken Andouille was the perfect protein for this (and I took it easy on the Chimayo this time).

Yes, this was a ton of food to prepare over a couple of days but the gang pitched in to defer the costs and took care of the clean up.

The program, as usual with these cross-genre events, required me to do all sorts of things that, in theory, I've trained for, but the reality is that I don't get to practice these skills enough. Thanks be to Providence, the music writing software program does some of it for me. With the trad player on the program we went to a=440 Hz, which, as you know, is less-than-ideal for Baroque flutes, so I opted for whole tone transposition for the pieces which used the flute. I switched to recorder for a couple of pieces, and even played the quena on one piece.Add to that the occasional need to improvise an accompaniment in styles of music that are far removed from either Tartini or Quantz in their styles, techniques, and harmonic vocabularies, and you have a flute player on the edge. The edge of what, we cannot say . . .

The concert went well and was not without some shameless grandstanding. For the last piece on the program, an arrangement of Santiago de Murcia's "Folias gallegas," I played an African drum as well as flute, even doing both at the same time on a few occasions when the extemporized aspect of the piece allowed for a drone on the tonic note while I beat a rhythm on the drum.

Next time this program happens, I'll make sure you are on the gig. We had too many leftovers and not enough flute players.

y.m.h.&o.s.,

quantzalcoatl