90 Miles, 90 Recipes and Stories that Take us There

As I collected my parents Cuban stories and recipes, I realized I had about 90 recipes. This is a significant number to Cuban exiles, as there are 90 miles between Cuba and Key West, Florida. A relatively short distance, but oh so far! I want to share these with you.

Monday, July 18, 2011

CHICHAROS (Split pea Soup) & Antoñica


It was many years after we left Cuba before I wanted to eat split pea soup, even though my mother’s split pea soup is delicious.

Cuba is a tropical country where things grow freely, but the communist controls greatly limited the food available. Everything had been rationed since Fidel Castro took power, and the grocery stores quite often had nothing  at all. Even if something was allowed on your ration card, you could only buy what they had at the store. My mother stood in line for hours  hoping to buy some food, a pair of shoes, anything. 

For a VERY long time, (it seemed like years to my sisters and me) chicharos (split peas) were the only thing  she could buy, but there was no ham or chorizo available with which to flavor the soup.  
My mother, Mamina, continued buying and making the chicharos because she knew they had a lot of nutritional value. It seemed that we ate chicharos for every meal for weeks on end. Mamina used whatever she could from our vegetable patch to flavor them, but often they seemed just a tasteless green mash.  My sisters and I grew very tired of split pea and dreaded meal time. 

Mamina would set out  bowls of soup for my sisters, and  me.  She spoon fed the baby, Nina, and at times when my sister, Isis, and I complained more than we ate, she would reach over and put a spoonful of soup in our mouths also.   
During this time my father was in a labor camp, for the crime of wanting to leave the country. Alone, and with few provisions, as my mother struggled to care for us, she was struck with inspiration.  One day she went out to the back patio to do the wash and saw a cute little frog sitting by the door to the kitchen. My mother has always liked frogs, and this little frog by the kitchen door gave her an idea. She began to tell us wonderful stories  about a crazy adventurous frog named Antoňica.  who would overcome  great odds with her daring and  creativity.  Antoňica helped us dream of freedom and possibilities. These exiting tales were reserved for mealtimes. We ate until our bowls were empty, distracted from the bland food by the flavor of Antoňica’s world,. Mamina knew her children were well nourished, comforted, and prepared for the challenges and adventures to come.

CHICHAROS – Split pea soup
1 lb bag (2 cups) split peas
2 medium potatoes, peeled and cubed
3 carrots
1-2 cups calabaza, Cuban squash (optional)
A soup bone, a piece of ham or bacon, with lots of meat
1 Tablespoon salt

Sofrito:
2-3 Tablespoons olive oil
½ green bell pepper
1 medium onion
4-5 garlic cloves
Chorizo (Spanish sausage – optional)
1 8 oz. can tomato sauce

Rinse peas, then cover with water and soak overnight.  Next day pour out soaking water and add fresh water so it is about 2-3 inches above the peas; add potatoes, carrots and meat.  If using a pressure cooker, cook 15 minutes after pressure is reached.  However you don’t need a pressure cooker, they’ll do just fine in a heavy pan; cook covered on medium low heat for about 1 hour, till they are soft.  Add more water as needed.  Add a tablespoon of salt after the peas are soft.

Make Sofrito:
Chop pepper, onion, garlic and sauté in olive oil.  When onions are translucent, add chorizo and tomato sauce and cook a few minutes longer, then add sofrito to peas.  Stir and cook on low, covered, for about 10 more minutes.  It will thicken a bit and all the flavors will blend.  Taste to see if it has enough salt.

Friday, July 15, 2011

Blog Party




I am so excited! I have been invited to participate in a blog party for authors, even though my book is not yet published.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Cooking with my Mother

My father and I were very close, but I did not always get along with my mother, so even though she was a marvelous cook, I had never been interested in learning her cooking secrets. However, after my father’s death, I witnessed my mother’s severe deterioration and overwhelming sadness. Looking for a way to engage her, I had the idea to ask her to teach me how to cook like her. She liked the idea, so we began to cook together. At the beginning she participated eagerly in cooking and telling me stories. Unfortunately, after a short time all she was able to do was to sit nearby and tell me how to create her dishes, but she still looked forward to our cooking sessions. I wrote the recipes down and took pictures of the finished product to share with family and friends.

It has been such a gift to do this project with my mother. My cooking abilities have grown exponentially as I have learned her gifted ways. By immersing myself in Cuban cooking, I’ve realized that the lively flavors of our Cuban food are like the lively sounds of our Cuban music and they reflect our lively, colorful and flavorful culture. I feel as though I have reclaimed a part of my past and gotten a taste of the homeland I left so long ago. It has also increased my hunger for all things Cuban.

Even more importantly, learning how my mother orchestrated these wonderful flavors and dishes, I began to understand the woman and her many gifts. Through cooking together my appreciation for her has grown. I’ve come to realize why feeding everyone was so important to her. Nourishing the body is part of nurturing the soul. Creating meals together, and learning to see eye to eye, has been an invaluable experience and a heaven sent gift for me.