Monday 16 August
We sort of like "Daisy Cooks," a TV show by a Nuyorican whose accent makes Barbara homesick. Holt was more fascinated by her three-ways-cooked Creole potatoes, so we tried them on for size.
First you have to make a sofrito, on which many of Daisy's recipes depend.
We cut the recipe down to make about 1 cup:
1 small onion, cut into large chunks
1 large Italian frying pepper or cubanelle pepper
4 to 5 cloves garlic, peeled
1/2 bunch cilantro (including stems), washed
1 ripe plum tomato
1/4 red bell pepper, cored, seeded.
Chop the onion and cubanelle pepper in the work bowl of a food processor until coarsely chopped. With the motor running, add the remaining ingredients one at a time and process until smooth. We used garden tomatoes and the little multicolored peppers that we bought at Findlay market for both cubanelles and red bells.
Once that's ready, you can make the Papas Criollas.
We cut the recipe in half, using:
1 pound tiny white-skinned potatoes--the smaller the better
Kosher salt
Olive oil
1/4 cup sofrito (above)
She asks for half an 8-ounce can Creole-style tomato sauce, but see below.
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
Put the potatoes in a medium saucepan and pour in enough cold water to cover them completely. Throw in a handful of salt. Bring the water to a boil, turn off the heat and scoop the potatoes with a slotted spoon onto a paper towel-lined baking sheet. Roll them around to dry the skins. That's what she says, but this is crazy. These potatoes were hard as marbles when they came back to a boil, and would plainly never become edible if we took them out this soon, so we kept them going until they were slightly tender.
Pick a skillet or other pan that will hold the potatoes comfortably in a single layer. Pour in enough olive oil to fill about ¼ inch. Heat the oil over medium heat until rippling. Add the potatoes and cook, shaking the pan so they cook evenly, until the potatoes just start to brown in spots. Don't worry about getting the potatoes crispy, because they are going to simmer in sauce.
Add the sofrito, bring to a boil and cook for a minute or two. Then she says to stir in the tomato sauce and bring to a boil. Instead of a can of sauce that duplicates all the ingredients in the sofritos, we added some whizzed-up garden tomatoes and some of Mr. McIlhenny's finest Tabasco (in honor of Gay Gomez, who took a bottle of said sacred sauce to Morocco, in case the harissa wasn't spicy enough for her - and yes, she was Gay after graduation, too).
Season lightly with salt. Adjust the heat so the sauce is simmering gently. Cover the pan and cook until the potatoes are tender but not mushy, about 15 minutes. Taste the sauce and add a little salt if you think it needs it. Sprinkle the cilantro over the potatoes and serve.
Okay, we did all that, or most of it. Was it worth it? They were nice potatoes, it was a nice sauce. Maybe it would send borinqueños into spasms of nostalgia, but for us, it's a lot of work for an -eh- result.
