Sound Taste

This is not a bottle of rum; this is not a bottle of soda

These two bottles look innocent enough, but they both represent liquid contraband (shhh, don't tell Homeland Security).

The bottle on the left is honey, bought near San Juan de la Maguana, in the DR's arid South. I can't quite identify the type of flower the bees visited, but sugar cane is flowering now, and the honey is a little boozy and mellow.

Honey is not only one of the oldest foods consumed by man, but it also always has an unmistakable terroir, especially where bees are wild still. And here, it's best to buy honey from road stands, where it's been collected by local campesinos, and bottled in whatever's handy (hence the recycled Brugal bottle). Supermarket honey, though still local, is usually adulterated with molasses.

Most people think the island is one long uninterrupted beach, but there are several ecosystems here. There's even one area, Constanza, where the temperature drops to freezing in winter. The South is very dry, with lots of succulents (cacti are common) and has crops that don't grow as well elsewhere (guandules, anón, a chewy kind of corn).

Even in a smallish island (you can go tip to tip in a few hours, barring traffic), honey tastes different from place to place. A bottle bought in the Central Cibao region tasted muskier and richer.

As for the mystery liquid in the bottle on the right? It's clerén -- Haitian cane liquor. There is no commercial production, and on the Dominican side, it's forbidden, so the way to get is in Haiti or buying it from one of the smugglers along the border. Again, the artisanal production explains the recylced bottles.

I paid RD$80 (US$2) for the 20 oz bottle. When we stopped at the border on Elias Piña (our friend Osiris suggested we buy on the Dominican side, to avoid problems with the border guards), we asked one of the motoconcho guys who sold some, and he took me a few minutes down the road and up a dusty, rocky hill to the house of a man who eyed me up and down before agreeing to sell it to me.

The motor taxi guy was right about the quality; this is a good few steps above rotgut. It reminds me of a nice cachaça, which makes sense, as they are both basically the same liquor.

A friend promised to find me some San Pedro guavaberry (a liqueur made by West Indian immigrants who came to work in the sugar factories), but I think that'll have to wait for some other time. My plans for the clerén? Probably neat, when New York warms up, or if I just want to feel a little Caribbean warmth. Who needs all those brain cells anyway?

Picadera: Dominican food notes

One of the reasons immigrant restaurants are so important is because of that "taste of home," the way they primally invoke memory, comfort, security. A NYT piece from this past weekend about the work of NYU food studies prof Krishnendu Ray mentions some of these issues talking about South Asian restos in NYC, but I've been thinking about them from my island perch.

Some other trip will have to involve more systematic research of Dominican foodways in the countryside and the city, but for now I've been going with the flow, keeping my eyes (and nose) open. A couple of quick notes:

On the creolization of "foreign" foods

The night I arrived, my friend Fatima took me out to dinner to have, not chimichurri but... sushi. Yup, sushi. Aside from the proliferation of franchises, both foreign (the usual litany of McDo, BK, Pizza Hut, KFC) and domestic (Pizzareli, Pollos Victorina), there are a few new franchises I find interesting, including the Greens/Sake Sushi Bar combo.

Greens has salads, wraps and other light sandwiches, anathema to traditional Dominican eating styles (and to thin Dominican wallets), and Sake Sushi has massive hand rolls which were, I have to admit, better than the average NY corner sushi resto. And here's the punchline: they had a roll that had plátano maduro, avocado and tuna that was killer. Don't have pix, don't even remember the exact name (I was tired and under the influence of a couple of Brahma beers, which are all over the place here), but will go back for more observation.

Increased Chinese migration

Maybe I'm noticing because I have a new Chinese-born niece, but it seems there are a heck of a lot more Chinese and other Asians in Santo Domingo these days. Chinese have migrated to the DR since the 1930s at least, and a large community settled in the whereabouts of Bonao ("eso lo saben hasta los chinos de Bonao"). There are an estimated 30,000 second-generation Chinese-Dominicans in the country. But it seems to me that there is a "picapollo/comida china" on almost every corner, and several sit-down places, including the interesting but kinda bland vegetarian restaurant Loto. I'm told there's lots of legal and illegal migration here. Many skip over to Puerto Rico via yola, with the poorest of campesinos, but others remain and set up businesses here.

A tourism project I'm very interested in checking out is the new Chinatown around Aves. Duarte & Mella, one of the oldest commercial districts in the old part of the city. I wonder if there's a monument commemorating all the Chinese-run "love motels" in the area.

Speaking of Bonao...

I took a trip to the mid-country province (about an hour north from Santo Domingo) and spent some time in the countryside, where there is a lot of rice cultivation in the plains, and awesome organic coffee in the hills from the strong local coffee growers' association.

On the edge of town, near the highway, is the lovely Típico Bonao resto, open-air under an enormous traditional palm thatch roof. I had stewed guinea hen (but seriously eyed the stewed goat. The recipe for the goat is here for Spanish readers). Guinea hens are not only cute, but a lot richer-tasting than chicken. Here the stew was a sort of creole coq au vin, with a deep brown sauce that tasted of reduced tomatoes, wine and oregano. Yum! When's the Food Network coming here?

That's it for now, but I promise more food-related reveries, including my delirious love for passion fruit, the many faces of corn and my quests for honey and moonshine.

Caribbean bird flu

I am currently off-site at an undisclosed tropical bunker (poor me, I know), so the mix of posts for the next couple of weeks will shift a little to include items from the country that Junot Diaz said is the most science-fiction place in the world.

Bad enough that I´ve been warned about all the crime here -- see lots of crime-related posts over at remolacha -- but now I have to watch my chicken. Seems dozens of imported chickens in the East Coast of the DR were diagnosed with bird flu -- 115 were sacrificed. But I´m still munching on my picapollo on the usual theory that what doesn´t kill you makes you stronger. Plus, skinny Caribbean chickens taste so damn good.

The unintended consequence? About 100 cockfights had to be cancelled in PR. Come again? Whoever doesn´t believe that culturally PR is Latin American despite its colonial status just has to look at the fact that cockfighting, outlawed in 49 states, with Louisiana (which to me is spiritually part of the Caribbean) about to outlaw it, is LEGAL in PR.

Bendito.

In the meantime, this gives me an excuse to post a video that´s become a recent favorite, M.I.A.´s "Bird Flu."
M.I.A. Bird Flu
Uploaded by seidrik

Know your chicken

One of my Google alerts turned up a blog entry titled "New York Chicken in Latino Sauce." My mind started racing. Had Prospect Park's feral chickens become a delicacy? And what, exactly, is "Latino sauce"? A sour orange-garlic mojo? Chimichurri? Salsa verde? Ground-up Latinos?

The intriguing title belonged to a post by one Valerie Tan. She's cute, and I'm guessing by her tag, 22 years old, loves "Christmas" and "Fuzzy Things," but I could not for the life of me figure out where she's based. The only hint is the reference to Kallang Stadium, which appears to be in Singapore.

I'm going to skip the obligatory those-wacky-Asians-and-their-malaprop-English jokes, and assume she's talking about an actual dish, either from a restaurant or a menu selection called "New York New York." Valerie reports that

The portion is just right for me, and the thick sauce is splendid.

What is this mystery chicken???

[Photo of New York Nugget by The Eggplant via Flickr]

Red Hook Ball Fields Update

You step away from your computer for a nice Friday afternoon, and you miss breaking news. Ed Levine reported yesterday that the Red Hook Ball Fields vendors have a reprieve. They now have a permit until October 28, a decision that Ed's source says

is a show of good faith on the part of the Parks Department as the two sides work amicably toward a long-term solution.

Eater has the Sen. Chuck Schumer release announcing the deal.

Celebrate with a bowl of Carmen & Victor Rojas' ceviche. So far, the day is nice, but the weather man says it'll rain later.

P.S. Don't miss Fernanda Santos' look behind the scenes at Margarita Hernández's stand in today's NYT.

[photo of roasted corn via Serious Eats]

Shameless nepotism

Coming out of the C train, talking to a friend I'd run into in the train, I see out of the corner of my eye a face that registers as familiar. As I'm flipping through the mental rolodex, he turns around and we do a classic cartoon spit-take. Robert Karimi, an old poet-performero friend from La Misión, is in town with a show, Cooking con Karimi (con Castro). I'll check it out, and on the basis of knowing his other work, like this, this and this, I'd say you should too.

The description is that it's "a live cooking performance for your mind, heart, & funny bone." Karimi promises "revolutionary recipes," and I don't think he's talking Adriá Ferrá foams. There's even promise of feeding the audience. It's only on today through Thursday, at the Abingdon Theater, 312 W 36th St. All the info on the show is here.

And even if you can't come, check out the show's blog. It has actual recipes, for things like "Soy Chorizo Breakfast Tacos" and "People of the Sun Tea," leavened with tart social commentary. Reawakens the ol' hippie in me.

[graphic adapted from merococinero.com]

Street bites

This week's issue of New York magazine has an extensive feature dedicated to street vendors. While some people equate NY street food with dirty-water hot dogs and weapon-grade pretzels, the smart New Yorkers thank their lucky stars every time they encounter a curbside angel of culinary mercy. And they stay loyal. You don't have to be a foodie to appreciate when someone cooks good food with skill, attention and love.

The magazine's "20 best" list has some of my favorites, especially near the top of the list. #1 is the Jim Leff-canonized "Arepa Lady" of Jackson Heights. I have to admit, I've never personally tried her wares (or maybe I have. Seriously, all the hype has fogged my memory). But I trust the Big Dog of Chowhound (even if I can no longer say the same about the chowhound board users). #2 is Antojitos Mexicanos, a tamal cart under the 61st St. station on the 7 line I especially love. The tamales are small, nice ratio of masa to filling, and the man who runs it (whose name escapes me) is a sweetheart. The super-sweet ladies at Tacos Güicho, also under the #7 near 82nd St., came in at #5. This place is a favorite of my co-author Seth Kugel's (he's used them to cater his last two events at home).

I don't think I've sampled the esquites (corn kernels with epazote, mayo and cotija cheese) from the guy at 53rd St. in Sunset Park that the magazine places at #10. I've tried a lot of esquites along that stretch of 5th (and atole, and champurrado, basically the entire Mesoamerican spectrum of corn). I actually like the esquites from Rico's Tamales, but really, the quality doesn't vary that much. Most people use frozen corn (more reliable than fresh) and thank goodness fresh epazote is now easy to find. And since I don't hang out in Soho much I've missed the Calexico cart that comes in at #15.

Overall, I'm pretty happy with the list. One-quarter of the carts are Latin. Which puts us right about at the right proportion.

Now, I do have one complaint about the otherwise fabulous vendor package. Calling Sean Basinski from the Urban Justice Center's Street Vendor project the "César Chavez" of street vendors is a bit of a stretch, if not downright paternalistic. Ethnic issues aside, I think I'd rather give that title to the mujeres at Esperanza del Barrio. Flor Bermudez is the organization's Executive Director, but she never presents herself as a figurehead. The organization was created by and is run by the mexicana vendors in East Harlem (all the board members are immigrants and are or used to be vendors). They're not just looking for a media-friendly showcase, they're working with the Health Dept., the cops, other businesspeople y demás. Good luck to the Street Vendor's Project, but let's put the emphasis on the vendor's ability to organize themselves, where it belongs.

In either case, go patronize your favorite street vendor today. Some pastelitos or tamales sound pretty good about now. Who's your favorite Latin street vendor and why?

[Tacos Güicho photo by Bebeto Matthews for AP via Yahoo]

Save the Red Hook Ball Fields!

I was trying to write a post about this subject earlier, but technology conspired against me and erased everything I wrote before it got on the site. A few minutes later, when I was on my way to an appointment, I got a call from a producer for the Brian Lehrer show to go on air to talk about this.

It was a good segment (listen here), with former Parks Comm. Henry Stern and vendor organizer Cesar Fuentes. Both Fuentes and Stern insisted that there's a lot of love between Parks and the vendors -- which I'm sure is true, and I wouldn't blame Cesar for playing nice even if it wasn't -- but I had to insert the slightly cynical perspective that organizing around this has definitely helped the cause of the vendors.

As I did on air, I give first credit to organizing by the vendors themselves. The mobilization of food writers, foodies (a lot of whom work in media), and bloggers helped, too. Chuck Schumer may be a media slut, but I think his press conference at the Ball Fields on Saturday (as opposed to his customary Sunday morning presser; something tells me he chose Saturday so as not to compete with the PR Day Parade) added a nice official-ish push to help the vendors.

Despite how Stern interpreted my comments, I don't think there's anything wrong with regularizing concessions. But I also think you need to encourage ground-up development of projects that help working-class communities develop their own institutions. The city could not have created the Red Hook Ball Fields. Latinos from Red Hook did that.

Don't forget to show your support by writing Parks Comm. Benepe here or at [email protected], or Red Hook Councilwoman Sara Gonzalez at [email protected].

[Carne Asada Huarache via PorkChop Express]

Adiós Red Hook ball fields?!?

Say it isn't so. Grub Street at New York magazine reports today that this may be the last summer for the Latin food court from heaven otherwise known as the Red Hook Ball Fields.

The stands have been there for years, discovered and revered by locals and chowhounds alike. You can see the NYT video tour here. When I first went years ago, it consisted of rickety grills and coolers. Since then, the Panamerican vendors have classed up the spot with flags and tables and sturdy cooking setups. I did a little dance when I found out they were open again for the summer.

The culprit, as usual, is contemporary city government's corporatized vision of what makes New York work:

"The city, eager as ever for the fat stacks that only a bidding war by commercial concessions can offer, has given the vendors notice that their Temporary Use Agreement, the permit given to them by the Department of Parks and Recreation, won’t be renewed. The city wants to open the parks up for concession bids, which will almost certainly mean an end to the makeshift food stalls that have been operating there for over ten years."

What can we do? Call, write or email the Parks Department and let them know that this is a true NY institution, and that the public cannot be served better by cookie-cutter concessioners than by the people who have been cooking with heart there when no one else wanted to. (Please note: the "email Commissioner Benepe" option only allows a message that is 150 words or less. I say triple-team 'em. I'll post a phone number when I figure out which is best. I don't trust 311 for this). Ed Levine at Serious Eats is starting a petition.

Fight for your right to huaraches and pupusas and chuzos and tacos and baleadas, and for the rights of honest people to make an honest buck while making others happy.

Echale salsita

How did I miss this? A recent post in the Guardian's excellent new food blog Word of Mouth points to the Food Section's post featuring a list of One Hundred Songs about food, something I'd been meaning to compile for this blog.

The Food Section list is heavy on the R&B (especially since so many food references are slang for sex), and most of Cibo Matto's "Viva La Woman" is on there (one of the most food-centered albums of the last decade for sure). But there are too many double entries for my taste here. "Augustus Gloop"? "Tea for Two"? C'mon!

At Word of Mouth, poster lockespot added the excellent suggestion of Herb Alpert's Tijuana Brass "Whipped Cream & Other Delights"

"includes "A Taste of Honey", "Green Peppers", "Tangerine", "Lemon Tree", "Peanuts", "Lollipops & Roses", and more."

The foodie site eGullet ran a forum on ID'ing food-related song lyrics (a variation on a game that made the email rounds a few years ago, the 80s song quiz and 90s song quiz)

And on Serious Eats, the Question of the Day on food-related songs yielded mentions of Run DMC, the Residents' "Fish Heads," and Adam Sandler's "Lunch Lady Land" (which can only be fully appreciated with the mesmerizing dance by Chris Farley).

The salsa/merengue/cumbia/bossa spectrum would yield a long list too (heck, let's just start with the terms "salsa" and merengue, which is often mispelled "meringue" by non-Spanish speakers), even if you only stick to songs with titles in English. But only "Spanish Grease" by Willie Bobo and "Watermelon Man" by Mongo Santamaria make the Food Section list.

Here are a few others, just from what I've got loaded on iTunes, and sticking to songs explicitly about food/drink:
"Bacalo Salao," Sidestepper
"Banana," Fernandito Villalona
"Buscando Guayaba," Rubén Blades & Willie Colón
"Caña Brava," Alberto Beltrán and others
"Cao Cao Maní Picao," Celia Cruz & Sonora Matancera
"Chiquete com Banana," Jackson Pandeiro
"Chuva Suor e Cerveja," Caetano Veloso
"Cravo e Canela," Milton Nascimiento
"Fried Neck Bones and Some Home Fries," Willie Bobo
"Guayabita Madura," Lisandro Meza
"La Malanga Brava," Joe Cuba
"Media Naranja," Carlos Puebla"
"Moliendo Café," Jerry Gonzalez and other versions
"Ojalá que Llueva Café," Juan Luis Guerra & Café Tacuba
"Patacón Pisao," Johnny Ventura
"Pez," Café Tacuba
"Picadillo," Eddie Palmieri
"Sancocho Prieto," Orquesta Santa Cecilia and others
"Soul Sauce," Cal Tjader
"Sweet Tater Pie," Mongo Santamaria
"El Tamarindo," Kinito Méndez
"El Trago 'e los Muertos," Luis Dias
"La verdolaga," Pacha Massive

And, of course, the song that gives this post its title, by Orquesta Aragón and others.

Wanna add others?