Smoked Pork Chops in Cuba

Sheri Wetherell — Tue, 09 Dec 2008 00:42:28 +0000

In 2002 Barnaby and I flew to Mexico City, then hopped another plane bound for the beautiful land of Cuba. (Knock, knock, knock. Excuse me, I think that must be the Department of Treasury at my door). Barnaby was there legally as part of the Havana Film Festival. I, on the other hand, was the renegade American. I smiled a big I’m-so-happy-to-be-here grin at the Customs agent who looked at my passport and handed it back to me unstamped. “Welcome to Cuba,” he said, sporting an even bigger grin.

I felt naughty being there. And I liked it.

Havana is like a beautiful aging actress whose lipstick bleeds and foundation is cakey. You see signs of her former glory, her sexiness, her mystique, but the luster has left long ago. All she needs is a face lift and a good shot of Botox.

On our first night venturing out for food we were approached by a jinetero, which literally translates to “jockey” but more loosely to hustler, who escorted us to a paladar. Paladares are small, unadvertised family owned and operated restaurants. In exchange for high taxes the government allows families to operate these restaurants, but they must seat no more than 12 people at a time and serve only local food: pork, seafood (if you’re lucky) black beans and rice (Moors and Christians) and simple salads. The nice thing about paladares is you get good quality home-cooked food while experiencing Cuban culture.

Being unadvertised we didn’t mind the aid of the jinetero. In fact, each night we welcomed the help of jineteros. Being fluent in Spanish it was easy for Barnaby to ask about the paladar to which we were being taken. One such place specialized in smoked pork chops. We’d had a lot of pork so we welcomed the new cooking method and told the jinetero we’d love to go. His friend ran ahead to tell owners we were coming. Apparently not many Americans visited this mostly locals only place so I’m sure the finder’s fee was good.

Down one quaint run-down street after another we went until we found ourselves in front of a once grand old home. We rang the bell and the door opened. Up the narrow staircase we climbed to another gated door. We were greeted cheerfully by a flamboyant transvestite who owned the “not so legal” paladar with his lover. We invited our two new jinetero friends to join us for lunch and the four of us embarked on the meal of a lifetime. For us, sitting in an unknown, impossible to find gem of a restaurant in a forbidden country; for them, eating a meal they couldn’t afford.

The lovers gave us a tour of their sparkling kitchen that was part cooking lesson, part La Cage aux Folles. I loved it. They brought out heaps of flavorful beans and rice, salad, ice cold beers, and the pièce de résistance: their smoked pork chops. To this day I have yet to have a more succulent, tender and juicy piece of smoked pork. Delicious ones indeed I have found at Latino markets in the U.S., but none that quite compare. They were that good.

They were embargo-ending good.

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The Hemingway Cookbook

Barnaby Dorfman — Tue, 11 Mar 2008 22:31:18 +0000

I recently had the opportunity to interview Craig Boreth, author of The Hemingway Cookbook. Here’s a bit of our discussion…

The Hemingway Cookbook is a favorite in my collection. I really love the way that you weave together stories, photos, and recipes from the life and work of Earnest Hemingway. How did you come up with the idea?

When I first traveled to France and Spain about ten years ago, I thought following a Hemingway itinerary — from his Paris haunts, through San Sebastian and Pamplona and down to Madrid — would be a great way to really dig into the terrain. Of course, while doing so I found myself bar- and restaurant-hopping all day and night, and I began to realize that Hemingway wrote often (and, in my opinion, brilliantly) about food, and the idea of a cookbook began to take shape.

You interview a lot of people who knew and worked with “Papa.” Was it hard getting people to talk with you? Did anyone turn you down? Who were some of the most interesting characters you met?

The greatest character I met was definitely Forrest “Duke” MacMullen, a hunting buddy of Hemingway’s from the Idaho days who provided the recipe for Cornish Pasties. He loved talking about those old days, and his letters always smelled of pipe smoke.

Of all the people I spoke with, I only had one bad experience. I called a rather famous photographer to inquire about buying the rights to use a photo of Hemingway. I don’t know if he was off his meds that day, but when I told him that $10,000 was way beyond my budget, he told me to “stop playing games and call back with a real offer,” and he hung up on me.

What’s your favorite recipe from the book?

My favorite is the lime ice with gin and crème de menthe. Having visited Hemingway’s home in Cuba in summertime, I can imagine how this refreshing dessert could cut through the sweltering heat. It’s really easy to make, it’s got a great fresh lime tartness and a nice kick of booze.

Craig gracefully gave us permission to share this recipe with you here…

Lime Ice This dessert, clean and tart with just enough kick, is the perfect refreshment on a hot July afternoon in the hills just outside of Havana. 4 to 6 servings

1 1/2 C sugar syrup (see below)

Juice of 6 limes

1/2 T lemon juice

1 C water

1 egg white

3 1/2 tablespoon gin

2 T crème de menthe

Rind of 1/2 lime, very finely chopped (optional)

Remove the rind of half of 1 lime and cover with plastic wrap. Combine the juice of the 6 limes, lemon juice, sugar syrup, water, and egg white in a large-bottomed, sturdy plastic container, so that the liquid is no more than 2 inches deep. Stir the mixture completely. Cover and place in the freezer for 1 1/2- 2 hours. When ice has formed around the edge of the mixture and the center is slushy, blend fro a few seconds with a hand mixer or whisk. Cover and return to the freezer for another 1 1/2 hours or so. Repeat process, adding the gin, crème de menthe, and minced lime rind after the third freezing.

Return the mixture to the freezer for another 30-60 minutes, or until firmly frozen. The ice may be served directly from the freezer, as it will stay somewhat soft and scoopable with the alcohol included.

How did you go about testing the recipes? Did you personally make all of them?

I’ve prepared most of them myself, but I enlisted many friends to help test them all.

Some of them are a bit out there, for example, did you try the “Mount Everest Special,” a sandwich of white bread, peanut butter, and onions!?!

That’s one of the things that makes the book so interesting. It’s a (hopefully) very accurate representation of Hemingway’s culinary biography. He had a huge personality and an appetite to match, and the recipes in the book reflect them.

What’s the most surprising thing you learned about Hemingway in the process of researching and writing the book?

I was surprised to learn how sophisticated Hemingway was in his use of food within his stories. I assumed it would all be boozing and gluttony. As an artist, he didn’t just use food symbolically in his writing, but he also brought in his expertise to make sure that the foods were local, in season, and perfectly-suited to the character in that particular time and place. It’s a deliberate and painstaking process that adds depth and richness to what is often mistaken for being sparse prose.

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Check out Craig’s other fun books:

How to Feel Manly in a Minivan

How to Iron Your Own Damn Shirt: The Perfect Husband Handbook

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Foodista Blog » Cuba

Smoked Pork Chops in Cuba

The Hemingway Cookbook