The Mija Chronicles

Mexican food and culture, on both sides of the border

Reflections

Cooking with Paula Lambert, and lots of cheese

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Last week during my trip to Phoenix, I was lucky enough to attend a cooking class with Paula Lambert, a cheesemaker extraordinaire who lives in Dallas.

Paula started making her own cheese before it was cool. A trip to Italy inspired her, and in 1982, she opened up The Mozzarella Company in Dallas’s Deep Ellum neighborhood. Today she has an online shop, two cookbooks (one is called Cheese, Glorious Cheese), and accolades from The James Beard Foundation and national food magazines.

I’d heard of her when I lived in Dallas. In the same room with her, though, I was kicking myself for not visiting her shop more often. She’s funny, smart and charismatic. She really doesn’t seem to notice that she’s a big-deal cheesemaker, and you’re a home cook who doesn’t even know how to pronounce “marscapone.”

Anyway, the cooking class, no big surprise, focused on cheese. It was held at the Phoenix home of Barbara Fenzl, a chef who offers cooking classes under the name Les Gourmettes Cooking School. Each class is small and intimate, conducted in Fenzl’s kitchen.

My mother-in-law is a frequent guest at Fenzl’s classes, and she’s the one who brought me along. About a dozen of us sat in chairs in the breakfast nook while Paula prepared the cheese-centric menu.

First up was warmed goat cheese with sun-dried tomato coulis…

Then pea soup with mint and marscapone….

And poached salmon with feta mayonnaise, served with arugula salad with fennel, orange and ricotta salata.

Finally, for dessert, a deliciously messy angel-food marscapone berry trifle.

I didn’t take any pictures while she was cooking, because I felt conspicuous. (The whole “approaching strangers with my camera” fear reared its head.) The photos above came afterward, when we ate everything in Barbara’s dining room.

Each dish was delicious, but I especially loved the salad. Fennel is still pretty unfamiliar to me, and its delicate licorice taste matched really well with the bright citrus. The goat cheese appetizer was great too, and so simple — a warmed spoonful of goat cheese, smeared on bread with a tangy tomato sauce. (Think I may use slow-roasted tomatoes instead, seeing as how sun-dried aren’t carried at my local supermarket. Or maybe… tomatillos?)

Paula gave me permission to reprint the recipes below, so here they are, after the jump.

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How to shoot mouth-watering food photos

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From what I’ve gathered in my short career as a blogger who rhapsodizes about food, there are two keys to shooting great food photos: lighting, and practice.

I’m still futzing around with both, and trying to wrap my head around the behemoth that is “composition.” Since a few of you asked, I wanted to share a few tips from the recent workshop I took with Penny de los Santos.

Penny is a senior contributing photographer with Saveur, and she’s also shot for National Geographic and Sports Illustrated, among others. She gives food photography workshops throughout the U.S., and I’d seen raves about her recent Seattle class via her Twitter feed. When she Tweeted that she was offering a class in San Francisco on the same weekend I happened to be in town, I quickly signed up.

The class cost about $300, so it wasn’t cheap. But this was a relatively low price compared to other food blogging/photography classes and retreats I’ve seen. (Some of these places charge $600 or $900, sending the message that you have to be SUPER RICH to be a quality food blogger. This drives me insane.)

Just like I’d hoped, the class was fantastic. Penny was friendly and funny, and she somehow managed to synthesize buckets of information on how to shoot a great picture into eight hours. Definitely worth every penny. (Heh. Sorry.)

Here are the four main points I came away with, and my thoughts on whether or not you need a fancy DSLR camera to shoot great photos.
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Bucking the e-book trend, with books coming out of my eyeballs

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One of the weird changes that’s happened to me since I moved to Mexico is that I’ve become ravenous for books.

I’ve always loved reading. I brought a packed bookshelf into the relationship when Crayton and I got married, then I got rid of a few dozen paperbacks, and then we slowly created another packed bookshelf, which is with us in Mexico.

When I lived in the U.S., I only visited bookstores to buy gift cards for friends or if an author I liked was giving a reading there. Crayton’s voice would echo in my mind every time I bought a book off Amazon: “Where are we going to put them?”

Lately, though, I buy books with absolutely no regard for the future. Our Mexico bookshelves are just about packed, and I don’t care.

A few days ago, while purchasing a discount copy of The Best American Travel Writing 2008 — I book I never would have bought PM (pre-Mexico), because anthologies are the types of books I breeze through, love briefly and forget about, and then give away four years later — I actually thought a tall stack of books might be a kinda cool decorative touch. A shabby-chic intelligensia kind of thing, maybe. (Don’t worry, I’m not really going to do this, it was a fleeting thought from a woman obsessed.)

These are the books I’m taking back to Mexico with me, after about two-and-a-half weeks in the States. And this is just my list, mind you. Crayton has about eight more books of his own. One of them is called “Cold,” and it’s about cold. As you can see, we have vastly different tastes.

1. Regional Mexican Cooking by Diana Kennedy. Scored this 1984 edition at Cookin’, a vintage kitchenware store in San Fran. There wasn’t even a question of where or not I’d buy it. It is DK, people.

2. From My Mexican Kitchen: Techniques and Ingredients by Diana Kennedy. This is her new book, which I purchased on Amazon. It’s full of the detailed information she’s famous for — the sections include “Fresh and Dried Chilies,” and “Making Vinegar.” Lots of beautiful photos, too.

3. Food from My Heart by Zarela Martinez. I love Zarela! She always posts interesting tidbits about Mexican food on her blog. I read about this book on Amazon, and it mixes personal stories with recipes, which is just the kind of cookbook I gravitate toward.

4. What the Dog Saw by Malcom Gladwell. It’s a collection of his New Yorker essays, and the quirky, random quality of each makes it the best airplane reading ever. For example: Did you know a Catholic scientist was among the American inventors of The Pill?

5. Recipes from the Old South, by Martha L. Meade. Another treasure from the San Francisco vintage cookware store, published in 1961. The first recipe, “Bacon Biscuit Balls,” won me over. I must make it for Crayton someday, followed by a gigantic salad.

6. Salsas by Ricardo Muñoz Zurita. A gift from my mother-in-law, who knows how much I love this guy.

7. The Looming Tower: The Road to 9/11 by Lawrence Wright. Been on my list for awhile.

8. One Amazing Thing by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni. An impulse buy at the bookstore, with book-jacket blurbs from Jhumpa Lahiri, Abraham Verghese and Louise Erdich. I cannot pass up a book that’s recommended by those three.

9. Shark’s Fin and Sichuan Pepper: A Sweet-sour Memoir of Eating in China by Fuchsia Dunlop. Recommended by a new friend. It’s about a British woman who moved to China and became obsessed with the food.

Truthfully, part of me hopes that someday I’ll have an entire room for my books, a library of my own, with cherry wood paneling, a leather chair and a duck phone like the one from Silver Spoons. This is probably not going to happen in Mexico — we can only afford two bedrooms tops in our neighborhood, and hubby needs somewhere to put the TV — but a girl can dream.

We’ve debated getting an iPad or Kindle, but haven’t decided yet. It certainly would cut down on our overweight-suitcase anxiety. We’ll see.

Pecan pie, steaks and my husband’s birthday

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We celebrated Crayton’s birthday last night.

We’re lucky enough to be visiting his parents in Phoenix, so we had a special meal. Crayton’s dad grilled some insanely thick steaks, and his mom made her famous pecan pie. (She buys the pecans from Albany, Georgia, because the ones in Arizona aren’t as good.)

We also had ramekins full of mashed potatoes, bacon, scallions and cheese. Crayton was in heaven. I couldn’t resist telling him: “Aren’t you just super excited for the big bowl of vegetables I’m going to make when we get back?”

We drank Elizabeth Spencer wine, and sipped cognac. At least one of us noted: “I wonder what the poor people are doing right now.” (This is one of Crayton’s dad’s favorite phrases, as a subtle way to say that we’re blessed.)

It’s nice being here. The house is quiet, and the weather’s sunny but not too hot. Today we’re going to a baseball game and later Crayton and his mom are going to watch the Phoenix Suns beat the Trailblazers.

Instead of going to the game, I’m heading out to Barrio Cafe with Crayton’s dad, which I am super excited about. The chef, Silvana Salcido Esparza, is a semi-finalist for a James Beard Award this year. Plus I have a new orange strapless summer dress I’m dying to wear.

Just grateful to be with family. Hope you’re feeling the same way too. Un abrazo, and more later.

Hasta luego

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While Lesley’s studying at an ashram in India, her husband Crayton is guest-posting. Please be kind to him.

So! Lesley is making her way back to Mexico City. I want to thank all of the visitors and commenters for keeping me company in her absence. Mescalapalooza is still in the works, so you’ll get the full report on the Mija Chronicles as soon as we get scheduling arranged.

Meantime, I wanted to dedicate this last post to some friends who have become very dear to us during our time here. We finished up a year here in January (you can see Lesley’s first posts here), and I really don’t know how we would have managed as well as we have without the help and advice of Joy and her husband Brendan. Not only did they guide us through some of the basic, learning-curve kind of stuff when we first arrived, but they welcomed us into their circle of friends so warmly that we really didn’t ever get lonely. In short, they are two fantastic people.

And they’re going to be outta here soon, which is something we’re learning to accept about life abroad. I’m an Army brat, and I moved around enough to get accustomed to the coming and going of people, how moving is part of life and how, in the end, when you know enough people who have left for somewhere else, it allows you to end up with really great friends all over the world. (Which is good when you go to New York or Paris or Bombay or Bangkok and you want to crash at somebody’s pad.)

When we arrived in Mexico, it seemed like every other week we were going to somebody’s despedida, or goodbye party. Joy and Brendan won’t be the only close friends we’ve made that will leave Mexico this year. People come to live here for an experience or for a job, an escape or a self-discovery, and at some point that ends for a lot of people, and they go back to their home turf. (The alternative is to “go native,” and that happens too, but it’s rarer.) I get really sad when we think about friends leaving, but I try to remind myself that it’s part of what I signed up for by choosing to live in another country.

The way to ameliorate some of that sadness is, of course, to also make friends with people who aren’t as likely to leave, such as, y’know, Mexicans. I was really worried when I first arrived here that I would gravitate to my own kind and not make a lot of Mexican friends. And truth be told, there are times when I’ve done that. But slowly, as my Spanish gets better and I feel more comfortable, I’m spending more and more time with Mexicans, who I’ve decided like having me around as a sort of Balki Bartokomous immigrant character who gets stuff wrong but has a good heart.

Still, there’s always going to be a bit of gravitation toward fellow expats, because we have so much in common and we help each other, and because we’re all a little strange. With every despedida will come another bienvenido. Somebody will arrive from abroad, and we’ll get to be their Joy and Brendan, helping them navigate the banks and the utilities and telling them not to freak out when the camote whistle sounds for the first time.

Thanks, guys.

Programming notes

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While Lesley’s studying at an ashram in India, her husband Crayton is guest-posting. Please be kind to him.

First off, India was a blast, and I’m not going to say a whole lot more about it because I know Lesley will have lots to tell you. I can confirm she’s arrived safely at the ashram, and I can’t wait to see how it goes for her.

(OK, one India- and cooking-related thing and it’s a total SPOILER ALERT for this blog – I got through Mexican airport customs screening with our entire inventory of recently acquired weird Indian spices and teas and stuff. This is great news, since the Mexican customs agents can be somewhat arbitrary about confiscating stuff, like the time they took Lesley’s quinoa because it was “seeds.” Do you know what this means? It means that Lesley will have all-new strange ingredients to experiment with! And she will inevitably put them in tacos! Stay tuned.)

So now here’s our chance to talk amongst ourselves. Over the next couple of weeks, this blog will have much less in the way of food-related content and probably a good bit more about beer and sports. But I’m open to suggestion! Any specific male-perspective-type questions you have about Mexico?

The year in Mexican food, 2009

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In honor of my first year in Mexico, I thought it might be fun to reflect back on some of my favorite food memories over the past 11 months.

Also: I wanted to thank you for reading and commenting over the past year. You’ve really made this year special, and I’m sending you each a virtual abrazo. (Although not a beso, because of swine flu concerns.) Please have a happy New Year, and felicidades!

My visual Mexican food journey starts below….
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Pictures from a Christmas tamalada

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Six really cool women came over for my tamale-making party yesterday — four Americans, one Mexican, one Venezuelan. One of the Americans brought pizza dip. We also had raisin-walnut bread, cookies, a spread of cream cheese and red chile marmalade, and toasted pumpkin-seed dip.

Using fresh masa harina my friend Alejandra bought at a tortillería, which was much moister and fresher than the flour I bought last week at Mercado de la Merced….

… we mixed up a lard-laden tamale masa, fluffy like buttercream frosting.

We soaked corn husks in a big pot, removed them, squeezed them dry, and spread a layer of masa inside.

Added fillings: rajas con queso and salsa verde, chicken with green mole sauce, and tomato-cumin with shredded chicken. Then we rolled ’em up, and tied them closed with strips of corn husk.

We placed them in my steamer pot, which I’d filled partially with water and two 1-peso coins. The coins rattle in boiling water, so when they stopped rattling, we’d know to add more water. The tamales need constant steam in order to cook.

After about 90 minutes, they were done.

And man were they good. Better than my practice version. The masa was spongy and light, just like I’d hoped. We served them with homemade refried beans, boiled in my clay bean pot and then fried in a few tablespoons of lard. (You don’t want to know how much lard we went through yesterday.) And we had champurrado, made with Mexican chocolate I’d purchased in Pátzcuaro.

It was a perfect Christmas moment: friends, a bountiful table and a warm home. So warm, in fact, that the steam from the tamales had condensed on the windows. I can’t wait to do it again next year.

I’ll post the recipe for sweet tamales in the next few days. They were my faves, with cinnamon, sugar, pineapple, nuts and raisins. Yum.

A Mexican YouTube Classic: “Edgar Se Cae”

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[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b89CnP0Iq30&hl=en_US&fs=1&]

Edgar Se Cae, a video about a chubby Mexican boy who falls into a creek while shrieking, “No guey!”, is a Mexican YouTube phenomenon. Nearly 17 million people have watched the original video since it debuted in 2006. This month Chilango magazine included the video on its list of most memorable moments of the decade.

Edgar spoofs abound on YouTube. There’s a Donkey Kong version, a Super Mario Brothers version and a Mortal Kombat version. There are Edgar Se Cae cartoons. My favorite one ends with Edgar waddling out of the creek, little blue pools beneath his eyes. “Pobre niño gordo,” a caption reads. (“Poor little fat boy.”)

My friend Jesica showed the original video to us a couple of months ago. I thought it was funny, but not 17-million-views funny. Then I looked at it several times this morning, and found myself giggling. Edgar’s friend coaxes him across the creek, and then forces Edgar to fall. SPLASH! Oh god, watch it again.

Seriously, it’s a story of the underdog. Mexican’s aren’t just laughing at Edgar — well, they are, especially when his “no guey!” and “ya guey!” shrieks get progressively louder — they’re laughing at how sometimes, the skinnier, stronger guy gets the leg up, and there’s nothing they can do about it.

Also, sometimes kids are just plain mean.

The bravery of an American woman

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Another Guadalajara cabbie and I struck up a conversation yesterday, while I was on my way to the book fair from an art musuem in Zapopan.

He’d asked where I was from — “Espana?” he guessed — and we chit-chatted about the differences between Guadalajara and Mexico City. I mentioned that I’d moved to Mexico for my husband’s job, and the cabbie, who looked no older than 30, asked how my husband was enjoying Guadalajara.

“Oh, he’s not here,” I said. “I came by myself.”

He looked surprised.

“Why didn’t he come?”

“Because he had to work.”

“So you’re here completely by yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

(Me, wondering whether I should continue further, lest he pull off the road and rob me): “Yes, really.”

He eyed me through the rearview mirror.

“Orale!” he finally said. “You’re brave.”

“I’m an American woman,” I said. “We’re very independent.”

That made him laugh.