This week’s “from the past” brings you a piece from…

“Across The Cordillera Of The Andes, And Of A Residence In Lima, Other Parts Of Peru, In The Years 1823 And 1824” by Robert Proctor, Esq.; Published in 1825.

On inquiring what could be had for supper, I found that a sheep had been killed, and as every thing was novel, I went to view the kitchen. It was a sort of shed at the end of the house, which had been once covered in, but the roof was then half off : in the middle of the earthen floor was a hole, either hollowed by use or made on purpose, in which was a wood fire, and two or three spits were stuck round in the earth, on which was threaded a side of mutton. Such is the method of making an asado or roast, which is the general dish in the country. Round the fire sat my peons, and as their appetites could not wait until the principal asado was ready, they had obtained a few long wooden skewers, with small pieces of meat upon them, which they stuck close to the fire, so as to touch the flames ; as soon as one of these was sufficiently cooked on one side, they took it up. Their method of eating was not the most elegant ; they caught hold of the meat with their teeth, while they kept the skewer in their hands : when they had cut off the piece they had bitten, they placed the skewer a second time before the fire, taking up a second and a third in turn, and serving them in the same way. Their knives are formidable weapons, and are worn stuck either in the boot or girdle.

Psst…I slice off a few small morsels here and there while the meat is slowly cooking to perfection. It’s practically impossible to resist the temptation. If someone catches you in the act, just silence them with an offering. They won’t tell anyone else, trust me.

Google Books has the whole book online here.

(I have a few news alerts set up with keywords related to the topics I write about here. This section will cover anything I find interesting which may, or may not, interest anyone who visits Asado Argentina.)

The Washingtonian posted a brief interview today with Gonzalo Di Laudo, the creator/partner of Pizza Zero in Bethesda, Maryland, U.S.A. Gonzalo Di Laudo moved up to the States from Argentina five years ago and after mixing a few drinks at his uncle’s restaurant, Divino Lounge, Gonzalo decided to show the locals his love for Argentinean-style pizza. His favorite pizza topping is Argentinean sausage(chorizo) and chimichurri sauce which just happens to be Pizza Zero’s best-selling pizza, the Porteña. You can view their extensive list of specialty pizzas here.

Drop a comment if you’ve ever tried Pizza Zero

This week’s “from the past” brings you a piece from…

“A Mining Journey Across the Great Andes; With Explorations In The Silver Mining Districts Of The Provinces Of San Juan And Menzona, And A Journey Across The Pampas To Buenos Ayres” by Francis Ignacio Rickard; Published in 1863

Having unloaded the mules, and given them water, my servant made a fire in the yard, and we set about cooking our frugal meal, which consisted of a dish called cazuela, or broth, with meat and vegetables well boiled, and the genuine asado of the Gaucho.

The asado, or roast-beef, requires a practised hand to turn it out with the peculiar, delicious flavour for which it is celebrated among American travellers. It is generally a piece of good beef selected from the ribs, or along the loin; it is well washed, salted, and an asador, or spit, being run through it, is then placed to cook over the half-burnt embers drawn apart from the fire; the extremeties of the spit resting upon two large stones, and being turned occasionally. I must say, that for a piece of “Gaucho” roast-beef, I would most willingly give up the best dish that was ever placed on the table d’hote at the Hotel du Louvre in Paris.

Google Books has the whole book online here.

For those in the U.S. and Canada looking for humanely-treated bovine products from start to finish and grass-fed beef, I found this great resource via Serious Eats via The Kitchn’s Good Beef: How to Find Local Meat. Eatwild Directory of Farms has an extensive list of farms that is, according to them, “the most comprehensive source for grass-fed meat and dairy products in the United States and Canada.” Browse through your state or province to see what’s close to you. Also, I like the one minute tip on how to cook grass-fed beef on that Kitchn page, low and slow. Just like how they’ve been doing it here in Argentina since grass-fed cattle have roamed the Pampas.

Wondering why banana, Húngaro, or some other name isn’t getting comfy between ajies and en in “ajies en vinagre”? Well, so am I. In fact, I wonder about this every single time I walk into a grocery store. Although improving, there is still widespread use of generic naming conventions throughout the food industry in Argentina. Sometimes our sour infused friends do not receive the descriptive “en vinagre,” just ajies. However, if spicy, and not necessarily pickled, they are entitled to receive the crowning of picante. Understandable at times, and yes many international companies continue to do the same–especially with hot sauces, but let’s get real. When a variety of peppers start to hit the produce section or shelves, other than what are normally available, I believe it’s time to properly distinguish them for what they are. At least to facilitate the curiosity and knowledge of budding chefs or home cooks in this internet age, but that’s a topic for another day.

Pickled banana peppers are an excellent accompaniment at an asado for those who want extra mouth-puckering action along with their roasted meats. Pickle them yourself or buy them jarred. I prefer to quick pickle them myself but lately they are always horrifyingly blotched and blemished. The big company jarred varieties in Argentina are not that bad but sometimes I wonder if they use industrial strength acetic acid.

There are tons of super easy pepper pickling recipes out there to be found. Even quick recipes that don’t call for sterilizing equipment and such if you are going to consume them within a week or two. Slice them or keep them whole. They sure are tasty.

(After snagging an edition of “Carpenter’s World Travels: The Tail of the Hemisphere - Chile & Argentina” by Frank G. Carpenter (You can view a photo from it here), I’ve developed an interest in how Argentina was viewed, in the days of old, by travelers, journalists, and writers. Particularly on the subject of asado and beef–food in general too. When the New York Times unleashed some of its archives for free a while ago, I was hoping to jump on top of that and post some old school nuggets of information. Unfortunately, most of what I am seeking is still under lock and key–for a price, and it’s useless for me to post a snippet without offering a link to view the whole piece. Fortunately, however, there are many other sources of juicy archived information to be gleaned. From The Past is a new category to cover just that.)

Here’s an excerpt from “Modern Argentina, the El Dorado of to-day” (1907), by author W.H. Koebel.

Up to the present the Argentine has concerned himself very little with the various schools and fashions in diet. In the camp he is an eater of meat, pure and simple. The days have long since gone by, it is true, when an animal was wont to be slaughtered in order that it might provide the wherewithal for a single meal, and when the rest of the carcase was left upon the plain as a present for the carrion fowl. Yet, though more economical methods have supervened, meat remains yet the staple food. Until recent years, notwithstanding the richness of the soil, few, with the exception of some British Estancieros, have troubled about the cultivation of vegetables. There is an increasing tendency now, however, to add these latter luxuries to meals, and the kitchen garden is becoming a feature of the small native estancia as well as elsewhere.

The standing Camp dish is the “Asado.” This may consist of any portion for preference the ribs of cattle, or even of sheep, roasted. One may obtain “Asado” in a Buenos Aires restaurant, it is true. In which case, however succulent it may be, it is as characterless amongst dishes as is a caged robin amongst birds. In order to estimate the true ” Asado” it should be prepared by Gauchos, and partaken of on its native plain. The method of its cooking is simplicity itself. A huge iron skewer is stuck in the ground at an angle, so that the meat upon it rests over a blazing wood fire. Then, when the fare is sufficiently roasted, one of the more homely uses of the Gaucho’s large knife becomes apparent. With it each slices off the morsel he desires from the spit, and the meal proceeds with a most delightful sans gene.

“Asado con cuero” is a dish afforded by beef cooked in similar fashion. But in this case the hide has been suffered to remain, and the meat is roasted in this latter. The dish was formerly far more common than is at present the case. Indeed, in view of the increased value of the hide, the fact of being offered an ” Asado con cuero ” may be taken as a special compliment.

While the ideas of slaughtering a whole cow just for some ribs has faded away and roasting meat with its hide occurrs mostly at festivals out in the countryside these days, the principles are still the same. You can’t compare a slab of restaurant meat to asado in the campo, nor does anyone give much thought to veggies other than cleansing their palates with a few nibbles off some salad, potatoes, or roasted peppers while carving into their meat.

When it comes to a simple parsley-garlic chimichurri, I’ll usually chop up a large bunch of parsley, mince some garlic, sprinkle salt and pepper, and then mix all of that with oil, vinegar, and water. The amount of garlic cloves may vary as well as the ratio of liquids–sometimes I leave out the water. After a few adjustments here and there, for taste, I’ll split the mixture in two with one getting a heavy dosage of hot pepper flakes. That’s about it. Parsley and garlic are the stars and no one else is going to steal that show–the pepper flakes hardly affect the flavor.

I’ve been going through “Barbecue! Bible : Sauces, Rubs, and Marinades, Bastes, Butters, and Glazes“, by Steven Raichlen, a lot lately to gather a few ideas for recipes to use with smoking or grilling. There’s a parsley-garlic chimichurri recipe that I’ve probably passed a few hundred times but never really looked back on since day one. Nothing is wrong with it, mind you, and it’s not one of those ‘add chopped chiles to ketchup for an authentic sambal’ type recipes. This chimichurri recipe looks as authentic as any, I’ve probably seen mirrors of it in Argentina, and that’s part of the reason why I never gave so much as another glance–nothing new. Sure it is different from mine in that a little minced onion and a pinch of oregano are added to the mixture, but I’ve added those ingredients before, only in different proportions.

About a week ago, while trying to perfect my signature spice rub, all sorts of thoughts about proportions where swirling around my head while thumbing through Steven’s book. When passing the chimichurri recipe for the 436th time, I thought about trying it out with his exact proportions. Maybe this version makes one heck of a chimichurri.

Well, I made it. The outcome? Delicious. The “less is more” mantra definitely applies to the small amount of onion and oregano. Although, I did have to decrease the oil and increase the vinegar just a bit, but I’ll explain that in the recipe.

Parsley-Garlic Chimichurri
This recipe is adapted from Steven Raichlen’s Chimichurri recipe (click link for original)

1 large bunch of fresh flat leaf parsley (he says to toss the stems, I usually leave quite a bit on)
8 cloves of garlic, peeled
3 tablespoons minced onion
5 tablespoons distilled white vinegar
5 tablespoons water
1 teaspoon coarse salt
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 to 1 teaspoon hot pepper flakes to taste
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 cup extra virgin olive oil

Chop up the parsley a bit. This will make processing easier. Add parsley and garlic to food processor and hit the pulse button a few times to mince. Add remaining ingredients and pulse some more. Slowly pour oil through the chute, while taping away on the pulse button. Pulse just enough to where everything is mixed properly. When I stopped, the oil was just starting to emulsify, and that happened very quickly. I don’t find emulsification aesthetically pleasing with chimichurri.

If you like the fresh crisp flavor of parsley, use immediately. Letting it rest overnight will balance out the flavors.

Note: Not all large bunches of parsley are equal so you may have to adjust the liquids a bit. I left out a few tablespoons of oil. Also, I added an extra tablespoon of vinegar to add a little zip. Oh, and you might want to eat this on a day when you won’t have to socially interact with anyone face to face

Don’t just use this recipe as a table-side condiment, the opportunities are endless. Use as a marinade. Use when cooking fish. Use with roasted vegetables. Also, a few spoons added to a basic salad vinaigrette works wonders as well.

I have another chimichurri recipe posted here.

If you are unfamiliar with Steven Raichlen, he’s an award-winning author of numerous books, tv host, and teacher who practically lives and breathes all things related to barbecue. So much so, that he even traveled extensively around the world for four years to learn what barbecue means to everyone else.

A few inquiries have landed landed in the inbox recently about specs or where to buy those crosses(asadores) that one can can use to roast a whole lamb, suckling pig, or ribs. I’ll cover the topic of cooking with one in detail at some point, but for now, here is a little info for those interested.

Here’s a site that sells them in Argentina but I don’t know if they’ll take international orders. They have some photos of the different types–too small for great detail–and height/width measurements.

You can see more photos and measurements on auction sites such as Deremate and MercadoLibre. (Those are vague asador searches but you can try adding criollo, cruz, and/or patagonico for refinement.)

In my opinion, have one built locally at a metal shop. You’ll be paying an arm and a leg to ship something that is quite simple in design. To create one at its simplest form, all you need to do is have a couple pieces of flat iron bars wielded together. For an adjustable one, they can figure something out.

Finally, I came across this site that has some great pics of a rectangular one in action.

Arab empanadas, also known as fatay in Argentina. (Origins? Yes I know about sambusac) These flavorful treats hardly resemble their more famous half-moon shaped cousins, nor do they receive even a fraction of exposure. Quite a few pizza joints in Tierra Del Fuego bake them up but one place in particular, Expo Pizza in Rio Grande, does them really well (pictured). Although, they were much better (less bready) years ago when I first visited. Hopefully someone can chip in on where the good ones can be found elsewhere in Argentina. I do remember a few shawarma stands had them for sale in Buenos Aires but those always tasted as if they were made a week before.

I haven’t been too pleased with many of the recipes out there, so I’m trying to perfect one that at least equals or improves upon my local favorite. Will post when I do. Basically what you do is mix ground beef with minced onions, red bell peppers, and tomatoes. Then add salt, pepper, cumin. Finally, the key ingredient, freshly squeezed lemon juice. You let that sit for an hour or two in the fridge–some say for half a day or overnight, then you have a sort of beef ceviche that you wrap up in basic bread/pizza dough; triangular-shaped as pictured. Cook in the oven for about the same time and temp as pizza.

This was pulled from a free Costco recipe book I picked up in the States a couple months back. Not a bad looking book I must say. A mixture of twists on simple classics from around the world to fare that one might find in many of today’s bestselling cookbooks of U.S. celebrity chefs. The book is online for full viewing along with over a thousand other recipes if you want to check them out.

While glancing more at photos than words (hmm), I stumbled across an interesting combination of stir-fried chicken laid upon a bed of diced watermelon. Interesting in how the two main characters were plated than seeing them together. Being one who enjoys a good pairing of salty and sweet, particularly of fruit and meat, I’m always eager to try something new. We’re in the midst of summer and with watermelon temporarily hanging out in the produce section, why not give it a shot. But, how would it turn out?

You can view the recipe here

Since no fresh ginger was to be found, I was off to a bad start. A local market that usually carries the stuff year round just so happened to be out of stock. What timing. I had ginger powder but that’s the equivalent of substituting a good meaty stock with water. Everything else? No problem.

Next was modifying the recipe (like always). I don’t want to delve too far into wok cooking but let me say that I’m not a fan of such recipes in general cookbooks. Follow the directions exactly as they say and you’ll often end up with an overcooked or steamed tasting pile of crap. Part of that is due to many recipes calling for four servings to be cooked all at once. For what should be a quick stir-fry, that is just a recipe for disaster. Even more if one attempts the recipe on an electric stove, in a teflon-coated wok, or the horrifyingly useless electric wok. Four chicken breasts, such as what this recipe calls for, will just crowd and cool the wok, making the process hardly different than using a sauté pan. Cooking batches of one to two servings in a well-seasoned wok is the key. Also, a high BTU super flame-spewing gas burner and/or not having a care in the world about filling your home with smoke would help–unless you have an expensive ventilation system that is far enough not to get torched. How many people have those?

I didn’t follow the proper measurements of soy sauce and oil, just eyeballed it to my standards, but stayed true with everything else on the list. Although, I did add a little splash sesame oil into the equation. The chicken was fried up until almost done, then went in the onions and garlic, and finally the mixture of soy sauce, vermouth, ginger powder, and sesame oil. I had to slice the watermelon into larger chunks than what the picture displayed. My green skin friend was too ripe and would have ended up being a big pile of melon slush if I minced it.

No sparks in my mouth. The sweet juiciness of the watermelon obliterated any other flavors. No contrasting clashes of flavors as one experiences with honeydew melon and prosciutto. I felt as if I was eating chewy salty watermelon. However, no hard feelings, it wasn’t wretched or anything of the sort, quite refreshing actually, but nothing memorable. Perhaps the lack of fresh ginger was partly to blame. The addition of a sauce might have helped too.