With
#memorymonday I have had to ask myself many questions every Monday. Sometimes I've even discovered areas, traits, of me that had remained hidden, unacknowledged and unaccepted. This week is no different. While wondering what I like to eat and what I like to cook, I discovered that the happier I am, the more I like to cook and that just like in “Como agua para chocolate”, the food I make turns out good or bad according to my mood. That is, the sadder I am, the more tasteless and “disastrous” the dishes are.
I come from an indigenous family where they cooked with few natural ingredients, harvested in the garden. My grandmother would go out to the backyard, pluck several leaves, crush them in a mortar and pestle and the paste she made was spread on meats and then added to stews or soup and that was it. I don't know how grandma, with two or three ingredients, made delicacies, delicacies, which was everyone's favorite. It is interesting how none of us have learned (or inherited) that skill from grandma.
I must say that I like savory dishes more than sweet dishes and one of the meals I love the most is a lamb stew seasoned with white pepper, red curry, cumin and fresh aji dulce. This sweet bell pepper is only available in Venezuela and gives a particular taste and an incredible aroma to all meals. If you want someone to salivate like Pavlov's dog, just add aji dulce to your stews.
This is exactly the time of the year when my second favorite dish is made: hallacas. Of course you can make hallacas every month, but they don't taste the same. Hallacas in December taste like Christmas, like a family reunited, like memories, like shared love. Someone once said that the hallaca is not a dough with meat wrapped in banana leaves, but a whole country wrapped in our arms.
Among the sweet dishes are the corn cakes and the banana cake with coconut and papelón, which is typical of the area where I live. By the way, I remember that my grandmother used to make a kind of “chicha” with corn that was a delight. My mother and I have tried to make it, but it never, ever has the delicious taste of the one my grandmother used to make.
As for cooking, for me it should be fun, I don't like to see it as an obligation. That's why I take great care in the kitchen when I'm with friends, with my loved ones. I don't like to cook for myself. For others I can make anything from pizzas, to baked chicken with Colombian potatoes and vegetables or meat pastichos.
While I drink a beer or a glass of wine, I like to “nibble”, to accompany the drink with cheeses, olives (I am a fan of olives), Spanish sausage, salami, palm hearts, shrimp overflowing.
Reviewing what I have just written, I realize that perhaps the ingredient that grandma had, was the love for cooking and for her whole family. The idea of not only multiplying food, but also multiplying flavors, with very few ingredients, is part of the DNA of people who have lived with many shortages: it is part of the magic. And the fact is that cooking requires a lot of magic and appreciating food requires a lot of wisdom on the palate.
The images are from my personal gallery and the text was translated with Deepl
This is my participation this week for our great friend @ericvancewalton's initiative: Memoir monday. If you want to participate, here's the link to the invitation post
Thank you for your reading and comment, my friend. I hope you have a nice Christmas! Regards