Pernil

👨‍🍳 Cooking in the Time of COVID 👨‍🍳

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Saying that pernil is basically a pork roast is like saying that Christmas is basically a holiday. I mean, it’s true as far as it goes if reductionist understatement is your thing, but I’m confident that if you’re familiar with pernil, you understand why I find it irresistible. And apropos of that analogy, in parts of Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, Cuba and elsewhere in Latin America, Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without it; fortunately, it’s a year-round treat. Each region champions its own slightly different spin on the recipe. Having experimented with many variations over many years, I’ve developed my own take on it as well; I can’t lay claim to any degree of authenticity, but I can proudly state that it is delicious.

I’ve found a multitude of recipes online set off by stunning photos more tantalizing than any I could ever capture, but I can’t help but be a little circumspect about some of them. For example, one suggested working in the garlic and rubbing in the spices just before cooking; my interpretation (like so many others) marinates the pork in the fridge for about 48 hours. That may have been the same recipe whose snapshot included a kitchen knife presumably responsible for those freshly carved picture-perfectly smooth slices. Again, I’m no expert, but I’ve never seen it served like that. You don’t carve pernil. You pull it apart with tongs or forks but never cut it into elegant slices. And I suspect that that was also the recipe that called for roasting it at 350° for three hours. Three hours? No wonder they had to use a carving knife! After three hours, pernil is cooked, but it isn’t done. What you see here came from a pork shoulder that spent fully 8½ hours in an oven that limboed as low as it could go (what’s the opposite of 11?) until the final minutes when I cranked up the heat to crisp the skin. (Mmmmm….chicharrónes!)


I serve it with arroz con gandules (the time-honored accompaniment of rice and pigeon peas) and maduros (fried ultra-ripe plantains: if a potato and a banana had a love child…well, you get the idea). Tostones are traditional, but I can never get enough maduros.

I’m pleased with my ultimate combination of herbs and spices that collaborate with all the garlic that goes into the marinade – cumin, oregano, Goya Sazón with culantro y achiote, and also with cilantro y tomate, adobo, black pepper, paprika, fresh cilantro, plus a little chipotle in adobo (totally inauthentic) and naranja agria (bitter/sour orange juice) for the all-important acid component, olive oil, and lots more. As a matter of fact, that marinade, after cooking, transmogrifies into the most amazing gravy. But since I’ve never seen gravy served with pernil, I always reserve it: waste not, etc.

If you’re curious about how I repurposed it this time, stay tuned for the next post!
 
 
Stay safe, be well, and eat whatever it takes. ❤️
 
 

Cuba Meets Brooklyn

👨‍🍳 Cooking in the Time of COVID 👨‍🍳

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This is Bistec de Palomilla, a Cuban dish, included here because in my last post, Rome Meets Buenos Aires, I mentioned that I repurposed some chimichurri I had made to accompany it (see photo) and a friend asked about it. Although I don’t usually make slabs o’ beef, I was intrigued by its eponymous label in the meat case of the otherwise white-bread supermarket: not Beef Top Round Steak (which this is), but Bistec de Palomilla. Perhaps they realized that customers have figured out that it’s one tough although certainly flavorful cut of meat, and it might sell better if it had a more exotic name. Or maybe they saw me coming.


Sometimes the recipe is made from cube steak or butterflied (palomilla means moth) round steak providing a head start in the tenderization process, but it still requires some TLC to coax the best from it. The first step is to pound it into submission and marinate it overnight in lime juice, garlic, and seasonings (including oregano and cumin) along with some sliced onion. It’s typically pan fried – I did this one in a cast iron grill pan – and typically served with the rice and beans that, alas, didn’t make it into this photo.

Answering for a friend. 😉
 
 
Stay safe, be well, and eat whatever it takes. ❤️
 
 

Pilar Cuban Bakery

Instagram Post 2/17/2019

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Pilar Cuban Bakery, 397 Greene Ave in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, is the recently opened extension of Pilar Cuban Eatery, their restaurant next door. A handful of tables entices you to taste the authentic baked goods on the spot in case you can’t wait to get your goodies home, and trust me, one bite and delayed gratification goes out the window.

[1] This picadillo empanada was stuffed with ground beef seasoned with a unique sofrito that set it apart from others I’ve tried; the breakfast empanada was brimming with eggs, cheese and plantain (it’s also available with house-made chorizo).

[2] The roast pork tamal was flavorful as well.

[3] Simply put, the flaky crusted guava and cheese pie killed. Remember that you’re enjoying Cuban cuisine, so if you’re accustomed to a Mexican guayaba y queso pan dulce (not to take anything away from them) this will be a different, delicious experience and worth every calorie.