I love a nutty little nibble with cocktails, and I have developed many versions over the years.  These almonds are a riff on my Lemon Garlic Cashews, with a nod to the Bourbon Rosemary Pecans.   Whip up a batch of Fresh Citrus Margaritas and get ready to celebrate!

Look for raw, blanched almonds (with no brown skin) in the bulk bins or a Middle Eastern section or grocery.  I don’t like too much spice, but if you do feel free to add a bit of cayenne.

Tequila Chili Almonds

¼ cup fresh lime juice

1 Tablespoon tequila

1 teaspoon mild chili powder

¼ teaspoon cumin

2 Tablespoons kosher salt

3 cups raw, blanched almonds

Preheat the oven to 350°.  Line a rimmed baking sheet with foil (preferably non-stick) or parchment paper.

Mix together the lime juice, tequila, chili powder, cumin and 1 Tablespoon salt in a measuring jug.  Place the almonds in a bowl and pour over the lime juice.  Stir to coat the almonds and leave them to soak for 30 minutes, stirring a few times.  Scrape the sides of the bowl to make sure the chili powder gets onto the nuts.

Spread the nuts in one layer on the prepared baking sheet and sprinkle the remaining 1 Tablespoon kosher salt evenly over them.  Bake for 15 – 20 minutes until a nice amber brown color.  Stir the nuts every 5 minutes, flipping them over and spreading them out evenly again.  Watch the last bit of cooking carefully, as these can burn quickly.  The nuts may feel a bit soft when you remove them from the oven, but they will crisp up. Cool on the pan.

The nuts will keep for a week in an airtight container.

Makes 3 cups

My primary memory of hominy is a quick Sunday night dish my mom used to whip up with eggs and sausage, but I love hominy as a more unusual side for a good Mexican meal.  I recently made this dish for a gathering of my parents’ friends, and when they realized it was hominy, I got a few looks.  One friend told me she hadn’t had hominy since early childhood, when it was served in the cafeteria during wartime rationing.  Another echoed basically the same idea – it was something only served at school lunches.  Perhaps politely, they all dished out some hominy. And went back.  And scraped the dish clean.  And their plates.  It was also a big hit with my young nephew and niece, who were also interested to learn when one of the guests explained that hominy is basically grits before they are ground up.

This is my jazzed up version of an old community cookbook recipe, sans condensed soup and processed cheese.  It has a bit of a kick, but not so spicy that my spice adverse family couldn’t stand it.  But feel free to pump it up to your taste.  Readily available Monterey jack cheese is perfect for this, but when I find a blend of Mexican cheeses like cotija, queso asadero and queso quesadilla, I prefer that.  You could of course, make up your own cheese blend.  Try this beside Smoky Beef Tacos with a side of Charro Beans.

Creamy Hominy Bake with Green Chiles and Cheese

2 (30-ounce) cans hominy, white, golden or one of each

8 ounces of sour cream

1 cup heavy cream

1 (7-ounce) can diced green chiles

1 Tablespoon lime juice

3 teaspoons salt

1 teaspoon ground cumin

Freshly ground black pepper

2 cups grated Monterrey jack cheese, or a blend of Mexican cheeses

Preheat the oven to 350°.  Spray an 8 by 10 inch casserole with cooking spray.

Thoroughly rinse and drain the hominy.  In a large bowl, stir together the sour cream, cream, green chiles, lime juice, salt cumin and pepper.  Blend until completely combined.  Add the drained hominy and gently stir to thoroughly coat the hominy.  Spoon the hominy into the prepared casserole.  Sprinkle the grated cheese over the top.

Cover the casserole with foil and bake the hominy for 40 minutes.  Remove the foil and bake a further five minutes until the cheese is melted and gooey.

The casserole can be refrigerate for several hours before baking.  Serve piping hot.

Serves 8

Blanquette de veau is a delicious, classic French dish with a real difference.  I’ll admit though, I’d never really considered tackling it, because, at first look, it seems a bit complicated.  But I recently hosted a book club at my house to discuss the book  Five Quarters of the Orange by Joanne Harris, a rich, evocative story laced with memories of classic French food.  So of course, I had to plan a lavish French feast. For some reason, blanquette kept coming back to me as the perfect dish for this event.   I thought about and analyzed many recipes, and came up with a version that, though it involves a few steps, is not really all that difficult.  The biggest nod to simplicity I made was using frozen pearl onions.  Fresh pearl onions can absolutely be used, but they are a bit of a nuisance to peel in my opinion.

Unlike most stews, the meat in blanquette is not browned, but blanched to preserve its pale color.  The monochromatic palette and tangy crème fraiche sauce set this dish apart. The key to blanquette is a flavorful stock base.  I use homemade stock made with lots of fresh flavors, and I really recommend that you do too, though if you must, a boxed stock is okay.  Adding extra flavor to the cooking liquid is essential, and I love the addition of fennel and leek, which add a brightness to the stock.

So, plan an elegant spring dinner party.  Your guests will be impressed, and you can pretend that you’ve been slaving for days to make a French classic.  Traditionally this is served with rice, but I like it with steamed or roasted potatoes (the multi-colored small ones are pretty) and some glazed carrots.

Blanquette de Veau (Creamy Veal Stew)

4 pounds veal stew meat (or veal shoulder cut into cubes)

7 cups chicken stock

1 carrot

1 stalk celery

1 leek

1 fennel bulb

1 small onion

4 whole cloves

2 sprigs parsley

2 sprigs thyme

2 bay leaves

1 (12-ounce) package frozen pearl onions, thawed

3 Tablespoons butter

3 Tablespoons all-purpose flour

1 cup crème fraiche

Salt to taste

Chopped parsley to garnish

Fill a Dutch oven or oven safe casserole dish (I use a 5 quart enameled cast-iron pot) with water and bring to a boil.  Drop in the veal pieces and blanch for 4 minutes, until the outside of the veal is sealed but it is not cooked through.  Drain the meat in a colander and rinse it under cool water to remove any foam or scum.  Rinse the pot and wipe out any brown bits and return the meat to the pot and pour over the chicken stock. Tuck in the carrot, celery, leek, halved fennel bulb and onions, stuck with the cloves into the pot.  Tie the parsley, thyme and bay leaves together with a piece of twine and drop it in the pot.  Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat, cover the pot and simmer until the meat is tender, about 1 ½ hours.

When the meat is tender, place the colander over a bowl and drain the meat, reserving the cooking liquid.  Discard the vegetables and herbs. Wipe out the cooking pot removing any browned bits.  Pour 1/2 cup of the cooking liquid into the pot, add the pearl onions and cook over high heat until the liquid is almost totally evaporated, glazing the onions. Remove the onions to a small bowl and set aside.  Wipe out the pot again to remove any brown bits.  Pour in the remaining cooking liquid, bring to a boil and reduce to 2 cups.

Pour the reduced cooking liquid into a measuring jug and set aside.  Wipe the pot clean again, then melt the butter over medium heat.  Whisk in the flour, cooking until thickened and pale in color.  Whisk in the reserved cooking liquid and cook until smooth and thickened, about 10 minutes.  Stir in the crème fraiche and stir until heated through.  Salt to taste. Add the veal and onions and cook until the meat is heated through.

Serve immediately sprinkled with chopped parsley.

Serves 6

There was a pub I frequented when I was a graduate student in England.  I will admit I didn’t eat there as much as my friends and I took a study break for last call at the bar. But they did serve food.  It wasn’t gourmet, it wasn’t even all that great, but they did have these potato cakes that I was very fond of.  They were cheap and filling, which are two of the top criteria for any student’s good food list.  It was only many years later, when I concerned myself primarily in recipe reading and research, that I came across boxty, and realized it was the same dish I’d eaten those years ago. I’ve since searched them out at pubs that do specialize in good food, and found the principle was pretty much the same.

My research revealed that boxty (pronounced bach-shtee) is a classic Irish dish.  A potato cake made with mashed and grated potatoes, often using leftover mash and that last potato in the drawer.  I follow the traditional method I’ve read in recipes over the years, but I add the bite of green onions, as is traditional in Champ, the classic Irish mashed potato dish.  And, as usual, I prefer the tang of buttermilk. Boxty aren’t pretty, but they are tasty.  The creamy mashed potatoes with the texture of the grated potatoes sets them apart from most other versions of potato cake.  I honestly can’t remember how they were served at that pub, but I have since had them as part of a “full English (or Irish)” breakfast, with bacon, sausage, tomatoes and egg all fried in the same pan.  I love them with a good pat of butter melting on top, but they make an excellent side dish, and would be brilliant with corned beef and cabbage or soaking up the gravy from a stew.

Boxty

Irish Potato Cakes

2 pounds (3 to 4 large) baking potatoes

3 spring onions, white and light green part, chopped

¾ cup buttermilk

1 large egg

1/3 cup all-purpose flour

½ Tablespoon kosher salt

4 Tablespoons butter

Heat the oven to 200° and line a baking sheet with paper towels.

Peel two of the potatoes and cut large pieces.  Place the chunks in a large saucepan, salt generously, and cover with cold water by 1 inch. Bring to a boil over high heat and cook the potatoes uncovered until fork tender, about 10 minutes.  Halfway through the cooking time, drop in the chopped green onions.  When the potatoes are soft, strain them through a colander and return to the pan.  Mash them with ¼ cup of the buttermilk until they are smooth.  Set aside to cool slightly.

While the potatoes are cooling, peel and grate the remaining potatoes on the large holes of a box grater. Toss with 1/4 teaspoon of the salt and place on a clean teal towel.  Gather the towel into a ball and squeeze out as much moisture from the grated potatoes as possible.

Beat the remaining ½ cup of buttermilk and the egg together in the measuring jug.  Fold the grated potatoes into the mashed potatoes and green onions.  Fold in the buttermilk mixture, flour, and salt until incorporated. You should have a pretty stiff batter.  You can add a bit more flour if needed.

Heat a large nonstick frying pan or griddle over medium heat.  Add enough butter to lightly coat the bottom when melted. Drop 3 mounds (about 1/4 cup each) of the batter into the pan and flatten each to about 1/4 inch thick. Cook until the pancake bottoms are golden brown, about 4 to 5 minutes. Flip and cook the other side until golden brown, about 4 to 5 minutes more. Place on a baking sheet and set in the oven to keep warm. Repeat with the remaining butter and batter. Serve warm.

Makes 12 – 16

My introduction to this French country dish was, oddly, in London.  And the first time I had it, I had never heard of it.  Since my graduate school days, I have made an annual pilgrimage to London, extending the trip each year, to spend enough time to settle in and not feel rushed or overwhelmed.  Sure, I go to museums and historical sights and see friends, but my main focus, as is always the case, is food.  The first thing I do when I arrive is hit the various markets in town to stock up on whatever is fresh and in season. I rent a flat for my stay so I have access to a kitchen.  Several years ago, in my neighborhood, a new street market began.  And it is fabulous.  Not big like Borough Market, but a perfect gem of a Saturday stop.  The vendors offer mostly prepared foods in such a diverse array it’s like vacation with in a vacation.  Oysters driven up from the South coast that morning, two Syrian brothers who sell sticky, sweet pastries.  An Indonesian family making unbelievable rice flour fritters with curry and shrimp. A young English woman who sells the most meltingly delicious handmade fudge.  Homemade Portugese jams, freshly baked breads, an array of cheeses from all over England, and another booth specializing in French cheese. When I plan my schedule, I make sure to be in London on as many Saturdays as possible to visit this jewel-box market.

A few years ago, as I was wandering and planning my meals for the next day, I came across a charming table decorated with flowers and a French flag, stacked with lovely little terra cotta casseroles.  I of course stopped to chat with the vendor, a charming young British woman selling petite dishes of classic French casseroles.  The earthenware dishes were filled with escargots in garlic butter, cassoulet, boeuf bourguignon, and coq au vin, all ready to pop in the oven and enjoy.  I was a bit dazzled by the choice and asked the vendor (the traiteur, really) which dish to take home for supper, and she told me the hachis parmentier was her favorite.  In fact, she confided, she liked it much better than traditional British cottage pie or Shepard’s pie (the former being made with beef, the latter with lamb).  With that endorsement, I went home with my hachis for Sunday dinner.

The little dish was enough for two meals, but I devoured the greater part of it in one sitting.  The remains, I dissected and made notes on, trying to tease out all the flavors so I could recreate it at home. I made notes, and jotted down a few questions for my traiteur the next week.  There was a £1 deposit on the terra cotta dish, so you could return it the next week and choose another casserole.  I dutifully carried my dish in my bag to Saturday’s market, but the vendor was not there.  And I have never seen her since, at that or any other London market.  But she left me with a lasting favorite meal, and a lovely little dish (though I never make hachis for one, it’s just too good).

Hachis Parmentier

French Cottage Pie

2 Tablespoons olive oil

1 medium yellow onion, finely chopped (about 2 cups)

7 slices (about 6 ounces) bacon, finely diced

2 carrots, finely diced (about 1 ½ cups)

2 celery stalks, finely diced (about 1 cup)

4 garlic cloves, finely minced

2 ½ pounds ground beef chuck

1 750 ml bottle of red wine

1 ¼ cup reduced sodium beef broth

2 Tablespoons tomato paste

2 teaspoons sugar

½ teaspoon ground cloves

7-8 generous sprigs fresh thyme

3 bay leaves

4 large russet potatoes (about 3 pounds)

½ cup (1 stick) butter, diced

½ cup dry vermouth

½ cup milk (possibly a bit more)

Salt and pepper to taste

1/3 cup grated parmesan

Preheat the oven to 450°.  First, prep all your vegetables and the bacon.  Now you’re really French-cooking with your mise-en-place.

Pour the oil into a large (5 quart) Dutch oven, then add the finely diced onions. Sauté over medium high heat until the onions start to turn golden and begin to caramelize, about 15 minutes.  Add  ¼ cup of water about halfway through to speed up the process.  When nicely golden, add the diced bacon and sauté for five minutes until it begins to cook.  Add the carrots, then the celery and continue to sauté until the vegetables start to soften and brown.  Stir in the garlic and sauté for about a minute.  Add the ground beef and stir, breaking the meat up into small pieces, until browned and no longer pink.  Carefully drain off any accumulated fat, then return the pot to the heat.  Add the red wine, beef broth, tomato paste, sugar and cloves and stir well to combine.  Drop in all the thyme sprigs (count how many you add so you can remove the stalks later) and the bay leaves. Bring the mixture to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer, uncovered, for 1 ½ hours, stirring occasionally.

Meanwhile, prick the potatoes all over with a sharp knife and place on the rack in the oven to bake.  Cook until the potatoes are soft when squeezed, about 1 ½ hours.  When the potatoes are done, remove from the oven and carefully, wearing oven mitts or using a folded towel, cut the potatoes in half lengthwise and scoop the flesh into a large bowl.  Add the butter, vermouth and milk and mash with a fork or potato masher until smooth.  Salt to taste (remember that the meat will be flavorful).

When the liquid with the meat is almost completely reduced, with just a little sauce clinging to the meat, remove from the heat. Remove the thyme stalks (the leaves will stay behind) and the bay leaves. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Scoop the meat filling into an 11 by 7 inch baking dish and spread out to make a smooth top.  Dollop the mashed potatoes over the filling, then spread out to cover the meat.  Using slightly damp fingers is a good way to do this.  Try not to let the meat or sauce poke through the potato topping.  Use a fork to scrape light lines across the smooth top of the potatoes.  This will give a lovely browned crispy effect.  Sprinkle the parmesan over the top.

The hachis parmentier can be cooled, covered and refrigerated for up to two days at this point. When ready to serve, preheat the oven to 350° and cook until heated through, golden with some bubbling around the sides, about 25- 30 minutes.

Serves 6

I love a good pumpkin dish for Halloween, and this one hits all the right notes.  It’s easy to make, reheats well after a busy night trick-or-treating and is packed full of flavor.  It is also a Halloween appropriate blend of orange and black!  And chili is always a crowd pleaser, and extra fun for a gathering if you provide fun toppings to customize each bowl like sour cream, lime, diced avocado, or tortilla chips.  If you are industrious, save the seeds from the pumpkin and toast them with a little salt for a crunchy topper.  You could even serve this chili over rice.  And of course, a wedge of Pumpkin Cornbread would be the perfect accompainment.

Look for small “pie” pumpkins, sometimes labeled sugar pumpkins.  Sorry, but the flesh from your jack-o-lantern won’t work.  Those pumpkins are decorative and have tough flesh with little flavor.  If your market sells pre-cut pumpkin, feel free to use it, and yes, you could substitute pre-cut butternut squash, though that takes out some of the Halloween authenticity. The cinnamon in this chili adds real depth and brings out the flavor of the pumpkin.  It does not make it sweet or taste like cookies, I promise.

A word about chorizo.  For this dish you’ll use the more common Mexican chorizo, which is a soft uncooked sausage, not hard salami-like Spanish chorizo.  I have found that the flavors of readily available chorizo vary enormously.  I recommend a brand made in Mexico, which I find easily at my regular grocery store, or if you can, a freshly made variet from a Hispanic grocer.  Choose mild over spicy if there is an option – you can always add spice, but you can’t take it away. The brand I commonly find is packed with flavor and very spicy, so it requires little else to make this chili pack a punch.  That is why I recommend cooking small bit of the chorizo first and tasting it.  If you find it bland, add chili powder to taste, and even a little hot sauce if you feel the need.

Spicy Chorizo, Pumpkin and Black Bean Chili

2 pounds Mexican chorizo (please read above)

1 yellow onion, finely chopped

4 cups (32-ounce box) chicken broth

1 Tablespoon cinnamon

Chili powder (optional)

3 – 4 pound pie pumpkin

2 (14-ounce) cans black beans, rinsed and drained

Salt and pepper to taste

Topping Ideas:

Sour cream

Lime wedges

Diced avocado

Chopped cilantro

Crumbled cotija or queso fresco cheese

Tortilla chips

Oyster crackers

Toasted pumpkin seeds (pepitas)

Pinch off a small piece of the chorizo and sauté it in a small skillet until cooked through.  Taste the chorizo to determine its flavor and spice level.

Break the chorizo up into a 5-quart Dutch oven and sauté over medium heat, breaking up the meat into small pieces until the bright orange juices are running.  Add the chopped onion and continue cooking, stirring and scraping the bottom of the pan until the onions are soft. Pour in the chicken broth, bring to a boil and reduce the heat to medium-low.  Stir in the cinnamon.  Add chili powder to taste if you feel the chorizo doesn’t have enough flavor and spice.

While the chorizo is simmering, prepare the pumpkin.  Cut the pumpkin in half and scoop out the seeds and fibrous innards.  Cut the halves into quarters and cut away the orange rind and any green-tinged flesh.  Use a very sturdy and sharp knife and go slowly and carefully.  Cut the pumpkin flesh into bite size chunks.  Remember you’ll be eating this with a spoon, so size the pieces accordingly.  Add the pumpkin to the simmering chorizo. Cook for about 10 minutes, then add the drained black beans.  Continue to simmer the chili until the pumpkin is tender and the chili has thickened. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Serve warm with sour cream and fresh limes to squeeze over the chili, and a selection of toppings.  The chili can be made up to 24 hours ahead and gently reheated.

Serves 6 – 8

When I travel, one of my greatest joys is sampling as much of the local food as possible.  But on long trips, even I get a little weary.  Sometimes I crave more familiar flavors, sometimes I am just too tired to search out a specialty restaurant and just want what’s close.  And sometimes, this pays off.  I had amazing, perfect pizza in Toledo, Spain because that was the restaurant in front of us when we needed to escape the crowds.  Some of the best French fries I have ever eaten were in Cairo, when I just needed French fries.  In India, I’ll remember amazing curries and street snacks, but also a perfect osso bucco in Mumbai.

And that’s how this recipe came about.  Toward the end of three weeks in Southeast Asia, I needed a little break from sampling the local specialties.  So I ended up in an Italian restaurant in an upscale hotel in Bangkok.  The main course of veal crespelle was gorgeous and complex, the gelato sampler creamy and delicate.  But what struck me the most, the dish I knew I’d be making at home as soon as the plate hit the table, was this pasta with creamy gorgonzola, crisp green apples and toasted walnuts.  I was so amazed at its simplicity, the blending of ingredients that go so well together, I was a little astonished I’d never seen the dish before.  Or thought of it myself.  I am sure the restaurant chefs had a more complex recipe, and undoubtedly made their own pasta, but I’ve come darn close to the original.

So I came home from Thailand with recipes for pad thai, fish cakes, curry dishes, larb, sticky rice…and pasta with gorgonzola.  I make this for myself as a quick dinner all the time.  I’ve scaled it here to generously serve two as dinner, but feel free to go up or down.  Ingredients are what matter, not proportions.

Pasta with Gorgonzola, Apples and Walnuts

1 Tablespoon lemon juice

1 large green apple

1 cup walnut halves

1 Tablespoon butter

¾ cup half and half

½ pound gorgonzola cheese, cut into small pieces

½ pound thin pasta, like linguine or bucatini

Mix the lemon juice with about ½ cup water in a small bowl.  Core the apple and cut it into small pieces.  Drop the pieces into the acidulated water and stir to coat.  Make sure the apples are covered by liquid, adding more water if necessary.  Set aside. This step is important, as it prevents the apples from browning.

Toast the walnuts in a wide skillet over medium heat, stirring frequently.  The nuts are done when they are slightly browned and release a lovely, nutty fragrance.  Watch carefully so they do not burn.  Transfer the nuts to a plate to cool, then break into small pieces.

Melt the butter with the half and half in a saucepan over medium heat.  When the mixture is just bubbling (do not let it boil), drop in most of the gorgonzola and stir to melt. Save a bit to sprinkle on top the pasta. Remove from the heat.

Bring a large pot of well salted water to a boil and cook the pasta according to the package instructions.  Drain the cooked pasta, reserving some of the starchy cooking water, then place the noodles back in the large pan over low heat.  Pour in the gorgonzola cream and toss well to coat.  If you’d like a little thinner sauce, or need it to stretch a bit to coat the noodles, stir in a little of the pasta water.  Toss in the drained apple pieces and the toasted walnuts.

Serve the pasta in bowls, with some extra gorgonzola, apples and walnuts on top if you’d like. Salt to taste.

Serves 2

In my family, when we travel, we all have assignments. Subjects to learn about, information to share with the group.  Yes, homework for vacation.  Laugh all you want, but it has made for some really interesting trips.  I am generally given the topic of food.  I search out restaurants, food customs, typical local fare and markets.  And the training of my family vacations has worn off.  I generally do quite a bit of research before I travel, and always research the food I should be on the lookout for.

Before I traveled to South Africa some years ago, I read about bobotie, a traditional dish with Cape Malay origins. The Cape Malay have East Asian ancestry, so the spices and curries of their heritage have translated into the broader realm of South African cooking. When I first arrived, I started asking, and the friend I was visiting and new friends I met told me that bobotie was really the sort of thing people cooked at home, and they weren’t sure I’d see it on a menu anywhere.  But they gave me a general description of the dish, with a lot of “well, my mom always makes it….”  I of course, took copious notes.  I did eventually have bobotie, as a lunch with a green salad at a game lodge, and served in a charming little ramekin at an elegant country inn in the Cape Winelands.  I picked up a couple of cookbooks that had bobotie recipes as well.  All this proved to me why bobotie is a favorite dish.  I recently spent a wonderful week with a group of South African friends, and when asked what they considered a true South African dish, they all said bobotie.  It reminded me how delicious this dish is, and how easy it is to make a flavorful, exotic meal that’s a departure from our standard fare.  I bet you’ll want to add it into regular meal rotation.

I have combined my preferred features from my bobotie research for my recipe, and adapted it a little to what’s readily available to me.  Some recipes I gathered use only lamb, or only beef, but I like the depth of a combined version. South Africa offers a wide and varied selection of chutneys, and I have been admonished that a good bobotie is all about a good chutney.  I find the easily accessible Major Grey type chutney a perfect choice.

Bobotie (South African Curried Beef and Lamb Casserole)

If you have a large oven-to-table casserole dish, you can make this in one pan.

2 small onions, finely diced

2 Tablespoons olive oil

1 pound ground lamb

1 pound ground beef

2 Tablespoons curry powder

3 slices white sandwich bread, crusts removed, torn into cubes

1¼ cup buttermilk

1 cup seedless golden raisins

2 Tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1 Tablespoon apricot jam

2 Tablespoons mango chutney (such as Major Grey)

3 large eggs

salt and pepper to taste

bay leaves

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Heat the oil in a large pan over medium heat. Add onion and sauté until soft and pale golden.  Stir in one Tablespoon curry powder and stir to combine.  Add lamb and beef and cook until just browned, breaking up the meat with a sturdy spatula.  Remove from heat to cool a little.

In a small bowl, place bread cubes and buttermilk.  Leave to soak for 5 minutes.  Using your clean hands, squeeze the bread to remove as much buttermilk as possible.  Reserve the remaining buttermilk.

Add the soaked bread, raisins, lemon juice, jam, chutney and the remaining Tablespoon of curry powder to the meat and onion mixture.  Add salt and pepper to taste and stir to mix completely. Transfer the meat mixture to an 5 quart inch casserole dish, spreading it out evenly.

Beat the eggs into the reserved buttermilk with a dash of salt and pepper.  Pour over the meat mixture in the casserole.  Stuff a few bay leaves into the meat.  If using fresh leaves, roll them up like cigars, dried ones can just be stuffed down into the mixture. Bake the bobotie for 30 minutes until the top is golden brown and set.

Serve warm, with additional mango chutney as an accompaniment.

Serves 6

My favorite summer treat is definitely fresh corn, straight off the cob. I eat more corn in summer than I ought to admit.  Usually just straight up, with a little butter and salt.  When corn starts appearing in the farmers market, I buy bushels of it to put up for the winter. I ration out those little frozen bags of golden jewels like they really are precious gems.  And when I light up the grill, I love to throw on some corn.  Usually way more than my guests and I will eat, so I can cut the leftovers off the cobs and enjoy it later.

Mexican-style grilled corn, or elote, is another one of those food ideas that I read about for years before ever actually trying it.  When I finally did take the plunge, slathering a freshly cooked cob of corn in mayonnaise and rolling it in salty cheese, I was hooked.  This is now my favorite way to eat corn on the cob.  When I started serving it at cook-outs, many friends were reluctant to try mayo on their corn, but the brave ones who did were hooked too.  Now there is an amazing Mexican deli in town that serves elote, and when I hear folks rave about it, I love to say I told you so.

When I have a smaller group of friends to serve, I grill the cobs and put them on a big platter.  Next to that I put a bowl of mayonnaise for spreading, a dish of chili powder for sprinkling, a plate of crumbled cheese for rolling and some lime wedges for squeezing.  Interactive food is always fun.  But with a larger group, that is not always practical, in part because I only have corn cob holders for six ears.  So when planning a larger gathering once, it occurred to me that maybe I could transform the idea into a salad.  It works beautifully, with all the flavor of a traditional elote.  It’s great for a crowd, but is also a great way to take fresh corn along to a party.  If you don’t have the grill going, it is perfectly fine with just-boiled kernels.

Mexican Corn Salad

Cotija cheese is a salty Mexican cheese you’ll find in with other Hispanic cheeses at most god groceries.  If you don’t find cotija, queso fresco is a good substitute.  I prefer to buy blocks and crumble it myself to get even chunks.

¼ cup mayonnaise (or more to taste)                                                                       

Juice of 2 limes

1 teaspoon mild chili powder

½ teaspoon ground cumin

8 ears of fresh corn, shucked and silks removed

1 cup crumbled cojita cheese (about 4 ounces)

Salt to taste

In a small bowl, mix together the mayonnaise, juice of one lime, the chili powder and the ground cumin.  Blend well and set aside.

Cook the corn on the cob. You can bring a large pot of water to the boil, drop in the cobs and bring the water back to the boil.  Remove the pot from the heat, cover it and let the cobs cook for five minutes. If you’ve got the grill going, you can then place the cobs on the grill to get a nice char on the kernels, but its fine if you don’t grill.  When cool enough to handle, cut the kernels from the cobs using a sharp knife.  Place the corn in a large bowl and squeeze over the juice of one lime.  Toss the kernels around to absorb the lime juice.  Add the cotija cheese and toss to combine.  Stir in the mayonnaise dressing to coat all the corn kernels.  Add salt to taste and mix well.

This salad will keep covered in the fridge for 24 hours.

Serves 6 – 8, can be doubled or tripled

I’ll be honest, I don’t actually know the history of Cinco de Mayo, I just know it’s a perfect excuse for a slap-up Mexican meal, and that is always a good thing.  And there is something so friendly and communal about a Mexican feast.  It’s a great way to gather friends and family, its interactive eating that everyone can enjoy. So for your own celebration, serve up some Smoky Beef Tacos or Green Chicken Chilaquiles, along with a side of Charro Beans.  Start your party off with some Green Chile Cheese Puffs.  And of course, don’t forget the Fresh Citrus Margaritas!

I have found some gorgeous red kidney beans at my local Latin/Asian/Caribbean/Middle Eastern supermarket from Guatemala called Frijol Pilay, but look for any dark burgundy, plump beans. Epazote is a popular dried herb in Mexican cooking, and I have been told that not only does it improve the flavors of beans, it aids in their digestion – and some of the impolite side affects. You’ll find it in the herb and spice section of Latin markets, but I pick it up at Penzey’s.  Mexican oregano has a more distinct flavor than standard (usually Turkish) oregano and is worth having around if you cook a lot of Latin dishes. My favorite restautant charro beans come with diced pieces of jalapeno floating in the broth, but I prefer a halved, cleaned pepper in to flavor the cooking liquid, instead of biting into pieces.  Do what you like, and add another pepper if you like it spicy.

Mexican chorizo is a soft, well-seasoned sausage (Spanish chorizo is hard and dry).  I buy freshly prepared at the Latin market, but it is readily available at many grocery stores.  It can range from mild to spicy, and if it’s labeled, choose mild so you can monitor your own flavor level.

Charro Beans

3 cups dried red kidney beans

1 small onion, diced

1 teaspoon epazote (optional)

1 teaspoon Mexican oregano

1 jalapeno pepper, stem, seeds and ribs removed

5 cloves garlic

Handful cilantro (stems and leaves)

1 pound fresh Mexican chorizo, casings removed if necessary

6 strips bacon, cut into small pieces

Sort through the beans and pick out any that are shriveled or imperfect.  Soak the dried beans in 6 cups of water, uncovered, overnight. The next day, drain the beans, rinse well and place in the crock of a large slow-cooker.  Add 6 cups of water, the diced onion, epazote, oregano, jalapeno pepper and garlic cloves and stir well.  Cover the crock and turn the pot to high, 6 hour setting.

When the beans are halfway cooked (3 hours), sauté the chorizo until brown, breaking it up into small pieces.  Remove to a heavy layer of paper towels on a plate to drain using a slotted spoon.  Drain off the oil, then sauté the bacon pieces until crispy.  Remove the bacon to paper towels to drain.  Pat the chorizo to remove as much grease as possible.  With a good chorizo, it will be bright red, so try not to stain your clothes.  Add the chorizo and bacon to the beans in the slow cooker, stir, replace the cover and continue cooking until the beans are tender.

If you don’t have a slow cooker, you can cook the soaked beans in a large Dutch oven over low-heat for 2 – 3 hours until tender.  Check the beans occasionally and stir to prevent scorching on the bottom, adding water as needed.

Serves 8- 10