Low-sugar horchata for Cinco de Mayo

It has been hot in our part of Mexico. The afternoons have been over 90 F/32 C. lately, and I can only hope this doesn’t foretell the summer ahead. A cold drink would be nice when we are in town. The street stands with beverages always have a 5-gallon jug of cold, icy horchata, but we pass them by. With so much sugar, the sweetness level is over the top for our tastes.

Originally from North Africa, this creamy drink traveled to Spain, thence to Mexico, where it is made with rice, sometimes barley. In Spain, horchata de chufa is made from exotic sounding tiger nuts from the sedge plant, as it is in Africa as well. Someday, I hope to encounter tiger nuts, but until then, rice will do, as it does for thousands of Mexicans.

I made coconut milk for this version. It’s easy with a blender and a fine seive or mesh cloth. Boxed almond, rice, or fresh dairy milk would work just as well.

Start by soaking raw rice (brown or white) and cinnamon sticks in water overnight. Really, white rice is how it’s done in Mexico. I used brown rice, and surprisingly, the horchata was quite white in color when blended. Probably the hull does not make it through the seive. Remove the cinnamon stick and blend until almost smooth. Strain the next day, discarding solids.

To the liquid add milk of your choice (coconut, almond or dairy), sweetener of your choice (sugar, stevia or honey), and vanilla. I used azucar mascabado, an unrefined sugar. While some recipes call for as much as a cup of sugar, I found two tablespoons of sugar plus 8 drops of liquid stevia gave a very pleasant sweetness without the bitterness that can be associated with stevia when too much is used. Chill and serve over ice for the perfect antidote for a hot afternoon. After avoiding horchata for years, I was surprised by how good low-sugar horchata is. Feliz Cinco de Mayo!

Brown Rice Horchata

• 1 cup/200 gr. raw brown rice (or white rice)
• 4 cups /1 l. water
• 1 cup/250 ml. coconut milk (or almond milk or dairy)
• 2 sticks Mexican cinnamon (Ceylon or cannela in Spanish)
• Stevia or sugar to taste
• 2 teaspoon vanilla
• ground cinnamon to garnish finished horchata

1. Soak rice, cinnamon sticks and water overnight in refrigerator.
2. Remove cinnamon sticks and blend rice and water in blender until very smooth, about 5 minutes.
3. Strain through 2 thicknesses of cheesecloth, a nut milk bag or other very fine material.
4. Discard solids and pour liquid into pitcher. Sweeten to taste and add vanilla and ground cinnamon.
5. Chill. Serve over ice.

Notes:

~ To help those who don’t have enough hours in the day, instant horchata is common in grocery stores. I suspect that those five gallon jugs of horchata I see on street stands are made from instant mixes.

~ It’s hard to imagine Mexico without rice, but it was not in Mexico until the Spanish arrived. Originating in China, rice made its way around the world, becoming a staple in Mexico. It is the side dish, along with refritos – refried beans – found on most restaurant plates.

~ Cinnamon in Mexico is not the same as the common cinnamon in the U.S. Here, Mexican cinnamon, canela in Spanish (Cinnamomum verum), is widely available and used. Serious Eats describes it as being less spicy, with a flavor that “tends toward vanilla: a warm floral note with hints of heat and honeyed fruit. Though it’s milder, “true” cinnamon possesses a deeper cinnamon flavor that plays well in the background of dishes, especially savory ones.” If you have whole sticks, but are not sure which cinnamon you have, snap a stick between your fingers. If it breaks easily, it’s canela, Mexican cinnamon. The cinnamon common in the U.S., Cinnamomum aromaticum or C. loureiroi, also known as cassia, is so hard that it cannot be snapped between your fingers. Don’t try to grind it in your spice grinder. The grinder may not survive.

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Dessert Quesadillas

Remember the last post about fruit quesadillas? Many quesadillas later, they morphed into all-out dessert. Goat cheese was swapped out for requesón, the name for ricotta cheese in Mexico. Chocolate was added. And walnuts. And ice cream. At this point, the quesadillas were dessert, not lunch.

Has anyone else come up with dessert quesadillas? I don’t know and I don’t want to know. In my world, dessert quesadillas originated here on Cooking in Mexico, and I don’t want Google to tell me otherwise. I still remember how excited I was when I thought I was the first person ever to come up with walnutella, my own concoction of walnuts and Ibarra chocolate to make a Nutella-like spread. A quick internet search proved otherwise. Then there was the time I thought, Hey, no one else is doing tuna melt quesadillas! Wrong. They were all over the internet, too. So, if you see dessert quesadillas on the internet, don’t tell me, OK? Gracias.

Take almost any fruit — apples, mango, pears, strawberries, figs, even banana. I used mango and apple this time. Laying the tortilla flat, spread with ricotta cheese. Then top one half with fruit, chocolate and nuts, and fold the other half over. It’s ready for a hot griddle. Fruit, ricotta and chocolate could not be a more delectable combination.

Add a scoop of ice cream and some chocolate sauce, and all of a sudden a fancy dessert is happening. With everything prepped, this would be easy to put together for company, and would probably be a dessert they have not had before.

Dessert Quesadillas 8 servings

• 2.5 oz./70 g. dark chocolate, chopped, plus 1 oz/28 g. for sauce
• 2 teaspoons avocado oil or other neutral oil
• 4 whole wheat tortillas
• 1 cup/8 oz./230 g. ricotta cheese
• 1 apple, peeled and sliced 1/2″/1.25 cm. thick
• 1 mango, sliced 1/2″/1.25 cm. thick(see Notes below for instructions)
• 1/2 cup/50 g chopped walnuts plus additional chopped walnuts for garnish
• Vanilla ice cream

• 1. Make chocolate sauce: microwave or melt over low heat 1 oz./28 gr. dark chocolate in 2 teaspoons avocado oil, heating just until chocolate is melted, and mixing until smooth. Set aside to cool.
• 2. Divide ricotta among tortillas and spread to within 1/2″/1.25 cm. of edge.
• 3. On one half of each tortilla, place fruit, nuts and chocolate.
• 4. Fold in half and cook on medium hot griddle until brown and toasty, about 2-3 minutes on each side.
• 5. Cool about 5 minutes on a cake rack.
• 6. Cut each quesadilla in half. Top with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, drizzle with chocolate sauce, and garnish with additional chopped walnuts.

Notes:

~ Why whole wheat tortillas? Because they have more fiber, more nutrition, and much more flavor than white flour tortillas.

~ To slice a mango, stand it on end and cut the two cheeks off, slicing very closely to the seed. Without cutting through the skin, cut 1/2″ slices (see 3rd. photo). Holding one cheek in the palm of your hand, run the edge of a spoon between the flesh and the skin, releasing the slices.

~ Eight years ago, I wrote about making requesón. It’s actually easy, though I confess I don’t make it any more. We live in a dairy region where fresh cheeses are made at the local ranches and sold at the cremerías. It’s too convenient to bring home a carton of requesón, hand made at a nearby rancho. Freshly made requesón pairs well with fruit and good bread.

© 2009-2024 COOKING IN MEXICO ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

All photos and text are copyright protected. Do not copy or reproduce without permissionas

Making ricotta cheese, sort of

Living in Mexico can be eye-opening — provided you keep your mind and eyes open. I was reminded of this when I  first made requesón cheese, the name for ricotta in Mexico. It’s sold at all the cremerias here, but it’s so easy to make, plus home-made ricotta is much smoother and cheaper than store-bought.

Rural living in Mexico has a lot of pluses, one being that we can buy raw milk, sometimes so fresh it is delivered warm from the cow. As much as I would like to drink raw milk, I always pasteurize it first. It still remains non-homogenized, with a thick layer of yellow cream on the top.

The eye-opening part of making ricotta occurred when Ruby, our house cleaner, tasted my ricotta and politely declared it “requesón lite”. What? I had followed the recipe from America’s Test Kitchen to the T. She patiently explained that requesón is made from suaro, the whey collected from cheese making, not from whole milk.

This explains why American ricotta recipes start with whole milk. After all, how many of us have a small herd of dairy cattle, make vats of cheese every day, and then have 10 gallons of whey to use for making ricotta?  No, I didn’t think so. Unless you have your own herd of milk cows, here is how to make ricotta, even though Ruby probably thinks I’m cheating.

Our favorite way to eat ricotta is spread on toasted seed bread, the so-called “Life Changing Bread” from My New Roots.

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Ricotta/ Requesón

makes about 350 grams or 12 ounces

• 2 quartst/2 liters whole milk
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2 tablespoons/30 ml. white vinegar
• 1/6 cup/ 40 ml. lemon juice

1. In a heavy-bottomed pot, heat milk and salt over medium-high heat, stirring frequently to prevent scorching.
2. When milk reaches 165 degrees F./ 74 C., remove milk immediately from heat and add vinegar and lemon juice, stirring gently. Extra cooking will result in curds too firm for ricotta.
3. As soon as curds form and the whey becomes mostly clear and yellow, pour into the cheesecloth-lined colander. It will take between 5 seconds and 10 minutes for the curds to form. If curds do not form, gently stir in more vinegar, one tablespoon at a time.
4. Allow to drain for only a few minutes, until you have a spreadable consistency. Upend the cheesecloth into a bowl and stir the ricotta with a fork, breaking up the curds until it is smooth. If you would like it more moist, stir in a few tablespoons of reserved whey. Refrigerate.

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Notes

~ Have everything ready before the milk heats — vinegar and lemon juice measured, colander lined with cheesecloth and set over a large bowl.

~ If using commercial organic milk, don’t use milk labeled UHT (Ultra High Temperature). The curds will not form as readily or as well.

~ Don’t use Meyer Lemons, as they are not acidic enough. Even regular lemons can vary in their acidity, requiring more lemon juice to curdle the cheese. Using all vinegar, instead of any lemon juice, supposedly can make the milk curdle sufficiently, but I haven’t tried it.

~ Don’t throw out the whey! It’s great in smoothies, soups (so I read), and for bread making. My chickens like it, too.

~ Make an easy and impressive Raspberry-Ricotta Cake with this recipe from Epicurious.

© 2009-2024 COOKING IN MEXICO ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Bread of the Dead

Mexico has a special relationship with the dead that we northerners can find disconcerting. We understand Halloween and all that goes with it, including skeleton costumes, excess candy  and scary cemeteries. We don’t always understand how families in Mexico can celebrate Day of the Dead at cemetery graves decorated with candles and marigold flowers, and favorite food and drink of the deceased enjoyed by all, including the departed. Children run around and play among the gravestones, while their parents and grandparents share special dishes, laugh and chat. One may see images of La Catrina, the elegantly attired female skeleton who laughs at death, and sugar candy skulls decorate the alters. At this time of year, death seems front and center, not tucked away behind social mores.

Pan de Muerto, or Bread of the Dead, is the most iconic food for Días de los Muertos. This lightly sweet, rich bread, similar to brioche, can trace its origins to Spanish bakers who immigrated to Mexico in the last century. This makes sense, given that Mexico does not have its own tradition of baking, but rather adopted desserts and recipes brought to the New World by Spanish nuns and later by immigrants.

In the few weeks leading up to Day of the Dead, Pan de Muerto is in all the panaderías and grocery store bakeries, even at Costco, where they were handing out generous slices the other day. I won’t go so far as to say we can make a lunch of Costco’s samples, but Russell and I can come pretty close, and Pan de Muerto made a perfect dessert after other bits and bites were sampled last week.

Orange blossom water and anise seed are the two signature flavors of Pan de Muerto. Surprisingly, I found a bottle of orange blossom water on my shelf, purchased on a trip to the U.S. for a now forgotten recipe. This distillation is made from the blossoms of bitter orange, and has a strong floral aroma that mellows as it bakes. If you don’t have orange blossom water, use grated orange zest instead for a citrusy aroma. In Mexico, orange blossom water is known as agua de naranjo or agua de azahar.

Green anise seed was new to me. I’m familiar with star anise used in Asian cooking, but did not know that green anise seed is from a totally different plant. This is the anise used for making absinthe, the green colored liqueur.

If you are familiar with my baking by now, you know that I generally use 50% whole wheat flour. To my taste, this adds much to the flavor — a nuttiness and sweetness found only in fresh whole wheat flour. Use all white flour if you prefer, which is in step with most Mexican baked goods.

My breads and cakes always have a charming (or embarrassing) homemade look, though this loaf pushed the envelope in the homemade category. When Russell saw my loaf come out of the oven, he kindly said it looked muy rústico. After his first bite, he said it reminded him of his Polish grandma’s babka.

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Pan de Muerto — Day of the Dead Bread 

• 1/2 cup (4 fl. oz./118 ml.) whole milk
• 3 oz. (85 g.) unsalted butter
• 2 large strips orange zest, minus white pith
• 1 tablespoon orange blossom water (or 2 tablespoons grated orange zest)
• 3 large eggs, lightly beaten
• 1  1/4 teaspoon instant yeast
• 2 cups (8.5 oz./228 g.) white all purpose flour
• 2 cups (9 oz./250 g.) sifted whole wheat flour, bran reserved for another use
• 1/4 cup (1.75 oz./50 g.) sugar
• 2 teaspoons anise seed (known as anis in Mexico)
• 1  1/2 teaspoon salt
• oil for bowl and pan
• Topping: 1 oz. (28 g.) melted butter and 1 -2 tablespoons sugar

1. In a small saucepan, warm milk,  butter and orange zest until butter melts. Remove from heat and discard zest. Whisk in orange blossom water and beaten eggs.
2. Blend yeast, flour, sugar, anise seeds and salt in a large bowl. Gradually add milk mixture, stirring with a large wooden spoon. When the dough becomes too stiff to stir, knead by hand for about 10 minutes until smooth. If too sticky to handle, add flour a tablespoon at a time. If too dry, add water or milk by the tablespoon.
3. Turn into an oiled bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and allow to rise until double in size. Punch down, cover, and refrigerate overnight.
4. The next day, remove dough from refrigerator and bring to cool room temperature. Save aside a small amount of dough to form “bones” and “skull” (sometimes called a tear). Form ball of dough, slightly flattened. Roll 3 small balls of dough into ropes for the “bones”, and shape to form bony segments. Place “bones” across the loaf, with the “skull” or “tear” pressed into the center. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise until almost double in size.
5. Bake in a pre-heated 350 F./180 C. oven for 30-40 minutes, covering with foil in 15 minutes if top browns too quickly. When done, a tap on the bottom of the loaf will make a hollow sound. Or bake until interior temperature measures 190 F/88 C.
6. Brush with  melted butter and sprinkle with  sugar.  Serve warm.

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Notes

~ For my readers in Mexico, I have found Espuma de Chapala to be the best whole wheat flour brand in the grocery stores here. It comes in a plastic-lined bag for freshness, and is high in protein, which corresponds to its gluten content, making it great for bread baking. It needs to be kept refrigerated to discourage rancidity, as do all whole grain flours.

~ I used my KitchenAid stand mixer to knead the dough for about 8 minutes. Use your hands, a KitchenAid mixer, or a large enough food processor for mixing and kneading, following dough instructions for mixer or processor.

~ Like other rich egg breads, Pan de Muerto is best the day it is made. If it lasts longer, toasted slices are almost as good as freshly baked.

~ Thank you to Rachel Laudan for the information about Spanish bakers in Mexico.  If you are interested in reading more on the history of Pan de Muerto, I recommend her blog, A Historian’s Take on Food and Food Politics.

~ This recipe was primarily adapted from a recipe in Fine Cooking, by Fany Gerson. Other recipes to check are at Pati’s Mexican Table and The Mija Chronicles.

Corn tortillas, old world and new

We were in the state of San Luis Potosí some years back, in the very small town of La Plazuela, when we came across the tortilleria — the shop that makes fresh corn tortillas. Every Mexican town has at least one tortilleria, but this one was special. The tortillas were being made from freshly ground, dried corn, instead of packaged Maseca, the corn flour usually used. We watched the grinding process, and waited around for the hot tortillas. Ay caramba, were they good! I don’t think we have had tortillas made from corn kernels ground on site since.

Amadeo, a resident of La Plazuela, ate egg tacos every morning made with these tortillas. He was a poor man, and when I saw his breakfast, I realized there wasn’t more than a small smear of cooked egg in each taco, essentially tortillas flavored with a bit of egg. His large meal of the day was tortillas with beans, and he told us that he was lucky he liked beans and tortillas so much, since that was the food God gave the poor of Mexico.

Corn tortillas date back to pre-Columbian times, and still figure prominently in traditional Mexican cuisine. Then as now, the corn kernels are first soaked in an alkaline solution of lime (known as cal in Mexico) and water. This softens the outer skin, which is then rubbed off by hand. This process is known as nixtamalization. If you buy a bag of Maseca in Mexico, that is what the word nixtamalizado on the package means.

Despite the growing popularity of spongy Bimbo bread, tortillas are everywhere. They are the basis of quesadillas, enchiladas, tacos, enfrijoladas and much more. These days, they are more likely to be made from the dry masa mix, rather then freshly ground, dried corn. There is no comparison between the flavor of the two, but a corn grinder is not a usual household applicance, even in Mexico. So we all eat tortillas made from Maseca, though today’s modern Mexican youngsters probably do not even know what tortillas made from freshly ground corn taste like. No doubt, in the remote villages of Mexico, the real tortillas are all they know.

For some reason, my dear chief taster has had this fantasy that his esposa will some day slap masa between her hands and make corn tortillas for him regulary. Maybe this has something to do with a wish to return to simpler times. With a tortilleria only a block away, this is one fantasy that is not going to happen. Or so I thought until he gave me a beautiful, wooden tortilla press as a gift. What else could I do, but make tortillas for him. This one time.

Do you have a tortilla press and a mate who thinks you are going to slap together fresh tortillas for breakfast? If so, buy a bag of Maseca, or better yet, go to your local tortilleria and buy some fresh masa. That’s what I did. A half kilo of fresh masa cost six pesos, the same as a half kilo of tortillas. In other words, it cost the same for an equal weight of freshly cooked, steaming tortillas as it does for the masa, leaving me to go home, press the tortillas, then stand over a very hot griddle. But if making corn tortillas will make your day, here’s how to do it.

If you live in a town with a tortilleria, buy fresh masa. One pound (one-half kilo) will make twelve to fifteen tortillas. If you are not lucky enough to live near a tortilleria, buy a bag of Maseca or Quaker Masa Hariana de Maiz and follow the instructions on the package. Their instructions call for 2 cups of masa mix, 1 1/4 cups of water, and 1/4 teaspoon of salt. Stir together, adding water in small increments if the dough is too dry and cracks when a test tortilla is pressed, or adding more masa if it is too wet and sticks to the plastic bags in the press.

Whether your masa is fresh from a tortilleria, or mixed at home, pinch off enough dough to roll a ball in your hands that is slightly larger than a walnut. Keep the balls covered with a towel or plastic bag so they don’t dry before they get to the griddle or comal.

Lay a plastic bag on your tortilla press, set a ball of dough in the center, cover that with another plastic bag, and bring down the upper part of the press with moderate pressure. That’s it — remove the tortilla from the bags and place on a very hot, unoiled griddle. After a few minutes, when brown spots start to appear on the under-side, turn it over. It will start to puff a little. Cook another minute or two, until small brown spots again appear underneath. Don’t overcook or it will be crispy. We are after soft tortillas.

Once you can stand back and survey your handiwork, you are ready to make quesadillas, Baja fish tacos or enchiladas rojas. The side of the tortilla that puffed up is called the “face” and experts say it goes inside a taco or quesadilla, because it may peel off. Once I have the tortillas cooked and off the griddle, I can’t tell which side is which. But, I’m no expert.

The two illustrations at the top are from the Florentine Codex and the Mendoza Codex, repectively, and are in Public Domain.