(Quinces)

I know it is not quince season yet. I must confess that I began this article in late October and, for various reasons, it was never published until now. And although there are no quinces at this time of the year, we are lucky enough to have quince marmalade all year round.

The quince tree is not big, but it produces a truly wondrous fruit. I can clearly remember quinces arriving at home, and the ensuing hustle and bustle to make clear marmalade, dark marmalade and jelly. Nature produced this fruit relatively quickly, and so it was necessary to use the quinces up as fast as possible. Nevertheless, there were some quinces that fell on the floor. These were dutifully picked up for a special purpose: to help fatten up the little pigs before they were slaughtered.

Another valuable food that contributed to the quality of the meat and guaranteed a good-sized pig. The quince is one of those products that continue to be seasonal, and I am not aware of its production on a global level or outside of Nature’s cycles. It is thought that it originated in the Middle East, but it was the Greeks that distinguished it by calling it the “golden apple”, a symbol of female fertility, which they also offered to Aphrodite, the goddess of love. It might be for this reason that marmelo (the Portuguese word for quince) is used to refer to the female breast in colloquial Portuguese. It is said that in Ancient Greece a bride was supposed to eat a quince on her wedding day, but that the groom was to abstain from doing so. Today, it is claimed that quinces have a high content of tannins and pectin, as well as anti-inflammatory qualities.

In Portugal, there are many quince trees in Ribatejo, Trás-os-Montes and Beira Alta, and they can also be found in Minho and Beira Litoral. In Brazil, it is thought that the quince tree was introduced to Bahia in 1530 by Martin Afonso de Sousa, and that the first safe production sites were in the Captaincy of São Vicente and in Serra de Mantiqueira. Currently, the largest production of quinces is in Minas Gerais, and this fruit is used almost exclusively for industrial production. The habit of making quince marmalade at home is beginning to disappear. In Portugal, this tradition is still alive, although it is rather different from what it was in the days when I was a boy in Trás-os-Montes. It was customary to offer a bowl of quince marmalade to the neighbours or when you visited friends and family – a practice my sister Lina carries out to this day. And then there was the wonderful feeling of feasting our eyes on the unmolded marmalade with its mouth-watering glow. Very often, a piece of marmalade was all that stood between you and a rumbling stomach.

When they are ripe, quinces have a very strong smell and are thus used for aromatic purposes before making their way to the pots for marmalade-making. But quinces can also be cooked with sugar and cinnamon and served as a dessert, or roasted in the oven in the same way that apples are. Then there are quinces in syrup – a sweet snack that I still enjoy at the Académico and Geadas restaurants in Bragança. The D. Roberto restaurant in Gimonde, Bragança, goes one step further and makes an unforgettable quince ice cream. But quinces are also used to accompany roast meat, giving it a wonderful bittersweet flavour. This fruit is also important in the Maghreb where they serve various meat tajines, namely lamb, with quince. But making marmalade, followed by jelly, are the most important uses quinces are put to.

According to my friend Armando Fernandes, the term “marmelada” is of Portuguese origin, and I believe him. Apparently, the English adopted the word “marmalade” from the Portuguese, and it usually refers to a citrus fruit jelly. They also have a “marmalade sauce” that is made with citrus and other fruits and is usually served with meat. Today, the term has become more widespread and it is used to refer to other jams with fruit. The French use the term “marmelade”, which is a type of sweet fruit purée similar to our (Portuguese) marmeladas, but not as firm.

Let’s take a look then at how quinces are used to make quince marmalade. References to marmalade-making go far back in time, and there are accounts of various jams with fruits from the Middle Ages onwards. The jams would acquire their names directly from the fruits, and so we have pear jam, peach jam and obviously quince jam. And, naturally, the first written accounts were recorded in convents. The most romanticised is the Monastery of Odivelas as it was often visited by royals, and to this day the famous white quince marmalade is still produced there. Then we also have records from the convents in Coimbra, the Santa Clara Monastery, the Celas Monastery, the Sant’Ana Convent and the Sandelgas Convent. References are also to be found in Trancoso Convent and, interestingly, in the book Receitas da Casa do Mosteiro de Landim (House Recipes of Landim Monastery), where a recipe for “Quince and Apple Marmalade” appears.

Broadly speaking, quince marmalade is made by cooking quinces in a sugar syrup – but with a few variations that will provide us with the two main quince marmalades: the white one, and the common or raw marmalade, which is red. Then there is also the extraordinary jelly to be made.

The rules for making white or red quince marmalade are not clear. According to the recipe from the Odivelas Monastery, in order to achieve a white quince marmalade, peeled quinces are placed in cold water, brought to the boil, and left to cook. They are then strained through a fine sieve. Measure out double the amount of sugar (vis-à-vis the amount of strained quinces), and when it has reached setting point remove it from the heat. Add the strained quinces to the sugar syrup, mix well, and place it on the heat once more until it starts bubbling. Remove the mixture from the heat, pour it into bowls and leave to dry. However, in 1982, Maria Emília Cancella de Abreu proposed boiling the quinces first, and peeling them only once they have been cooked. It is important that the sugar reach caramel point and that after it has been well mixed together with the quinces, off the heat, you continue to stir the mixture until it cools. Only then do you pour this cream into recipients and leave it to dry in the sun. Once it has dried, it is covered with wax paper soaked in aguardente (fire-water). This is also the way the recipe for white quince marmalade is presented in the “Dicionário do Doceiro Brasileiro” (Dictionary of the Brazilian Confectioner) by António José de Sousa Rego, 1892. The same book also has recipes for quince marmalades with plums, with peaches, with apricots and with apples. Also, there is a marmalade recipe called “sumo” (juice), and a fantastic “de Lisboa” (from Lisbon) recipe, which I suggest you read. I am not including it here as it is too long. At home, my sister Lina continues to make clear quince marmalade in the same, successful way: “with peeled quinces that are not ripe; and once they’re cooked they are put through the finest food-mill. The sugar must reach caramel point and you mix in the strained quinces; the mixture is stirred and not boiled.”

Let’s now look at the difference when it comes to red quince marmalade. According to Maria Emília Cancella de Abreu, the difference has to do with the way in which the sugar is mixed in. Here, you do not make a sugar syrup into which you then mix the strained quinces. Instead, you add the sugar to the strained quinces, without removing them from the heat, and you keep on stirring. However, at Odivelas Monastery the difference lies in not straining the quinces through a sieve. They are mashed with a spoon, and without letting them cool, you add the sugar, stirring all the while. Going back to my family’s recipes, “dark quince marmalade was made with ripe quinces that were cooked whole. Once cooked, they were peeled and strained through a sieve. The sugar must reach caramel point, you mix in the strained quinces and bring it to the boil, always stirring as it boils.” At home, there was always quince marmalade that was also eaten as a dessert with cheese. This tradition is very common in the north of Portugal, and the combination of cheese and quince marmalade is affectionately referred to as “Romeo and Juliet”. And in Lisbon, there is still the practice of wrapping cubes of quince marmalade in cellophane (the Confeitaria da Ajuda comes to mind).

As can be seen, Portuguese quince marmalade made its way over the Atlantic and became popular in Brazil. In his recent book, “Vocabulário do Açúcar” (The Vocabulary of Sugar), Raul Lody defines marmalade as a “Jam made of quinces (Cydonia Oblonga). It is also the term for jams made of different fruits in the form of paste.” This is the perfect definition for more than one example of “true fusion cuisine”. I insist on writing that fusion cuisine only truly exists when a recipe becomes perennial. Merely trying it out is not enough! Goiabada (guava jam) is the prime example. It is so important, that there are goiabada contests every year. My friend Dias Lopes has already offered me some excellent goiabadas that are finger-licking good!

And now, to end off, a brief note on one more quince derivative: jelly. It’s sweet, very sweet, and can be used in a variety of ways, including as a filling for cakes or simply as a stuffing for boiled or roasted chestnuts. To make “the jelly, use the peels and pips of the quinces, and the same amount of sugar. The water used to dissolve the sugar is the one that was used to cook the quinces. Let everything boil until setting point (I eyeball it) and then filter it all. The jelly is then immediately poured into the jars since it solidifies on cooling.” Little precision for those not in the habit of making preserves. Skilled hands and the confectioner’s gut feeling are fundamental!

Long live quince marmalade. And now, set off and discover a good wine to accompany the marmalade as it will make the dessert even tastier.

(C) Virgílio Nogueiro Gomes

(Quince marmelade)

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2013

I’ve learned that people become sweeter, eating sweets. I don’t want to make you prove the adage by overdoing it, but it’s true that bitterness never endeared. In the picture, I’m only suggesting to taste the most famous Portuguese sweet in the world: Pastéis de Nata.

Actually, I only want to share them with you, wishing a Happy New Year 2013.

Bon Appétit! Oh! Don’t forget to choose a good fortified wine to enjoy with them.

All of us began our relationship with chocolate for emotional reasons. Chocolate symbolised a present, a sweet treat, a prize, a comforting cuddle, or even a way to counteract sadness.

Chocolate, in terms of the product we consume today, has been through a great evolution. Recently discovered records indicate it has been used for over three thousand years. It is believed that the use of chocolate dates back to the pre-Colombian civilisations of Central America, and it basically results from cocoa beans that have been fermented and roasted. Despite being popular, primitive civilisations used chocolate as a warm and bitter drink. Initially, however, it was reserved for the nobility, and then later for the upper classes of those civilisations. It was also an offering to the gods. Information gathered on the Mayan civilisation tells us of a bitter drink called xocoatl, which gave rise to the name ‘chocolate’ spread by the Spanish. At that time, the Mayans were already adding vanilla and pepper to it, and considered it to be a stimulating and invigorating drink with aphrodisiac properties. It continued to be used mainly in ceremonies in honour of the gods. However, due to its elitism, it was also used as a reference currency for trade purposes, and was even used in order to purchase slaves.

The first account of this product is dated 1502, when Christopher Columbus described the abundance of cocoa in those lands and how the natives held it in high esteem. But it was only in 1519, when Hernán Cortés discovered the world of the Aztecs, that there was a better understanding of how it was consumed. As it was a bitter drink, and not at all suited to European tastes, it was then that people started adding cane sugar, cinnamon and sweet anise to it. The Aztecs were already using its pressed powder form to mould it into chocolate slabs, thus providing them with a source of food on campaigns when they went for long walks. For them, it had energy replenishing properties – a notion that was later disseminated among the court of Charles V.

There are many stories showing how easily this delicacy spread. The Europeans did, in fact, have the merit of turning that bitter drink into a most appetising product. And even diabetics can take solace in the fact that there are some sugar-free chocolates they can eat, and others made with soya.

With the Discoveries, the Spanish brought cocoa and chocolate to Europe, where it became very popular as from the 17th century. It was considered a new product, and its use quickly spread. The fact that it was the Spanish who brought the chocolate over meant it was easily available in Spain, while in Portugal it was a very scarce product. So much so, that the famous Portuguese convent confectionery has no records of a recipe that includes chocolate, contrary to what happens in Spain where there are various convents and monasteries with chocolate specialities. Chocolate quickly became fashionable in the European courts; and after this initial consumption by the elite, it also became common among the lower classes. Although it was first consumed as a beverage, it soon gave rise to a variety of products such as slabs and bonbons. It must also be noted that many products are added to chocolate, ranging from sweet substances to others that are bitter, such as pepper and ginger, and the panoply of possible products would make for a never-ending list.

Nevertheless, it is necessary to write about the main types of chocolate, i.e. the chocolate bases. Thus, there is “dark” chocolate, the result of a high concentration of cocoa, with no milk and no sugar; and “milk” chocolate, possibly the most widely consumed, with added milk and sugar. Chocolate “powder” is another variety that usually refers to reduced-fat chocolate, often with no added sugar and suitable for making beverages. Then there is also “white” chocolate, which is sweetened and made with cocoa butter, milk and vanilla. And let’s not forget “frosting” chocolate, which has some cocoa butter and is used by professionals when making chocolate frostings or   finishings. The Spanish continue to consume chocolate as a beverage, and at breakfast it is quite common to see them enjoying a cup of chocolate and dipping their churros (a fried-dough pastry) in it.

I prefer “dark” chocolate, especially from Belgium,   as opposed to milk chocolate, which is sweeter. For me, chocolate is good when it has at least 70% cocoa. And in bonbons with a ginger filling, which are finger-licking good. It’s not for naught that chocolate is considered the food of gods.

Chocolate has been the target of much imagination, even in literature. In order to illustrate Aesop’s famous fables, Pedro Ernesto de Luna and Piero Cagnin created a recipe for “an apricot and date mille-feuilles on a chocolate ganache base with Banylus wine”. Even more creative is the recipe by Brigitte Bulard-Cordeau in her book “A Sorcerer’s Cookbook”. This author includes interesting and attractive texts alongside her recipes, especially for her “Sorcerer’s stuffed sweet roll”, aimed at prolonging pleasure, and which is very similar to our Portuguese chocolate salami, but with added hazelnuts and pine nuts. Recently, science has also shown that dark chocolate has some beneficial therapeutic functions as it stimulates both the brain and the circulatory system, apart from being considered an energy food. Naturally, if eaten in excess, it may lead to obesity.

Spain tried to plant cocoa trees, but without success. These trees, or plants, did not do well in Europe as they need a wet and tropical climate. Thus, even today, the great producers in the Americas are: Mexico, Bolivia, Brazil, Costa Rica, El Salvador and Granada. West Africa is another large cocoa-producing area, namely the Ivory Coast, Ghana, Madagascar, Nigeria, São Tomé and Príncipe and Tanzania. In Asia, we find significant production in the Philippines, India, Malaysia and Vietnam.

It said that it was Dom João VI, while still living in Brazil (1807-1821), who sent the first batch of cocoa to São Tomé and Príncipe in order to develop plantations there as he believed it had a suitable climate. And he was right. The island nation still produces cocoa of an excellent quality, which you can try in the different specialities offered at Corallo in Lisbon.

© Virgílio Nogueiro Gomes

It all started with an egg (did it really?), from which a chick was born that grew and became a chicken. As an adult it grew some more and became a hen that people learnt to cook for their benefit and pleasure. The discussion continues. What came first, the chicken or the egg? If it was the egg, then who hatched it? And if it was the chicken, then how did it appear?

Some authors still believe that the winged dinosaur Archaeopteryx gave rise to today’s chicken. I don’t know if that is true, but I do know that chickens and hens have been used since time immemorial. Darwin maintained that the domestic chicken as we know it today derived from the red jungle fowl found in India and Indochina. More recent studies have attributed its origins to other species in Southern Asia, knowing that the chicken was already domesticated in the Neolithic Period. Records from China also refer to the domesticated chicken as early as the 14th century BC. In Roman times, chickens were bred and raised by the different households, and can be found in 15 recipes in the Apicius cookbook, making it the bird with the greatest variety of different dishes. On the Iberian Peninsula, and closer to us in time, we can find forty-nine chicken recipes in the 13th century work by Ibn Razin al-Tugibi, clearly demonstrating the importance of chickens, or hens, in the diet of this region at that time – a region that also encompassed the Maghreb. Somewhat surprising is the letter written by Pero Vaz de Caminha informing King Dom Manuel I of the discovery of Brazil. The boats that set off on the Discoveries had live animals on board, and when they arrived at their supposed destinations, the animals were unloaded. The Native Indians were surprised when the cages with chickens were unloaded; the chickens were then released and started clucking and running about, which scared the Indians. And thus, chickens and hens arrived to be bred and produced in Brazil – so successfully that its present-day chicken production has turned Brazil into one of the greatest exporters of chickens in the world. Later came the first written record of Portuguese recipes, the recipe notebook of the princess Infanta Dona Maria (16th century), with eight recipes and another for chicken breasts which, once cooked and crushed in a mortar, were used to thicken the famous “Manjar-branco” (blancmange), a delicious and prestigious dessert at the time. The main meat used in this notebook came from chickens and hens. Dom Sebastião also seems to have enjoyed chicken. In his extraordinary journey to the Alentejo and the Algarve in 1573 “the King dined on chicken and capon, of which he partook and greatly praised.” Among Portugal’s fourth dynasty (1640-1910), there were many people who loved chicken, and it is said that Dom João VI often ate chicken thighs. And so, the tradition of eating chicken was established in Portugal and also became a practice that made its way to Brazil. Dom Pedro II of Brazil enjoyed chicken too, and there are several references to this meat, especially in relation to chicken soup. Chicken soup is a good example to illustrate the consumption of this fowl following Garcia da Orta’s return from India, where he recognised its healing powers. Thus, even today, chicken soup is immediately associated with those who are sick or convalescing. Nevertheless, although chicken is a part of our daily diet, we have never given it the attention deserving of an elite, haute-cuisine product. In Portugal, it seems that we are ashamed to use some popular products in grand or more elaborate dishes. And as for banquets, chicken seems to have been all but outlawed. I can clearly remember a trip where I accompanied our Prime Minister on an official visit to Mexico; at the banquet offered by the President of the Republic, the main dish was chicken stuffed with local mushrooms. But let us get back to our overview of Portuguese recipes. In 1680, Domingos Rodrigues, presented fourteen recipes for either chicken or hen, and then another 10 recipes specifically for chicken and nine for hen – of which one is for a broth and another for meatballs. Chicken breast continued to be used to thicken the dough for “Manjar branco” (blancmange) and “Manjar real”; and chicken was also used to make “Olla Podrida” and “Olla Moura” (stews made from pork, beans, chickpeas, and a variety of other meats and vegetables), which are recipes leading up to our present-day “Cozido à Portuguesa” (Portuguese stew). Naturally, these recipes belonged to a food elite and chickens and hens continued to be very important. But even more important was the presence of the next author, who also cooked for the Court. He presented fifty-one recipes for chickens and hens, apart from reserving the chicken breast for the above-mentioned desserts, as well as for various broths and soups. With an increase in the number of recipes, it seems we could conclude that chickens and hens had also increased in value. However, when we get to the 19th century and look at the first professional cookbook, “Arte de Cozinha” (The Art of Cooking) by João da Mata, 1876, we find that there was a significant reduction in these recipes as there are only eighteen recipes for chickens and hens – which were still used to make some broths. Of special interest is the set of recipes presented in the book “Cozinheiro Nacional” (The National Cook), by an anonymous author, but attributed to Paulo Salles, and published between 1874 and 1888. There are seventy-four recipes, clearly illustrating the importance of these farm animals to the Portuguese. The first book of the 20th century, “Tratado Completo de Cozinha e Copa” (The Complete Treaty on Kitchen and Pantry) by Carlos Bento da Maia, 1904, also dealt with home economics. In it you will find twenty-two recipes, one of which mentions that chicken broth is for the ill. Chicken begins to play a more important role in terms of families, and is found less frequently at the tables of the elite. In 1936, in the first ‘inventory’ of Portuguese cuisine, António Maria de Oliveira Bello presents us with 10 chicken recipes, one for hen and one for soup. Chicken also makes its way into “Dobrada à moda do Porto” (a Porto-style tripe dish, with white butterbeans and chouriço), and there’s hen in the “Cozido de Trás-os-Montes” (a type of stew).

And what about chicken and hen dishes today? The most common dish is Barbecued Chicken on the spit or on the grill. Then there’s Chicken or Hen “Cabidela” (a dish with pieces of chicken and chicken blood), with the “Pica no chão” particularities that my friend Fernando Torres is so good at. Still in Minho, chickens or hens are also used in the Braga- or Bouro-style “Sarrabulhos” (rice dishes made with various types of meat and pig’s blood). We also have the “Arroz de Cabidela” (a rice dish made with chicken and chicken blood), which is very common in Minho, Trás-os-Montes and Beira Alta, as well as in the Alentejo. But in terms of rice dishes, we also have the chicken or hen “malandrinhos” (rice dishes that are not dry, but have a lot of sauce/broth). An emblematic recipe is that for “Frango na Púcara” (a Portuguese chicken dish cooked in a terracotta pot) from the centre of Portugal, with towns from Óbidos to Tomar claiming credit for its origins. A curious and traditional recipe from the Coimbra region is “Chicken with suckling pig gravy”; it is a roasted chicken dish with gravy similar to that of the famous “Leitão da Bairrada” (Bairrada Suckling Pig). The recipe that seems the most elitist is “Galinha Cerejada”, which is still made in the Algarve. Here, a hen is boiled in water with “toucinho” (salted pork fat) and chouriço, garlic and lots of parsley. Once it has been cooked, it is evenly braised in a saucepan in an onion and garlic sauté with olive oil, lard and butter. When it is almost done, white wine is poured over it. It is very often served as a party dish. Every region has its own small, but tasty regional recipes such as the “Galinha Azeitonada” from Trás-os-Montes (a hen dish that includes pitted olives, diced carrots and onion), or the “Açorda de Galinha” (a thick bread-based hen casserole) with chickpeas from the Algarve, and many more. Chickens and hens can be boiled, grilled, roasted, stewed or fricasseed, with Molho de Vilão (a sauce with garlic, onions, vinegar, paprika, salt and pepper) or cebolada (an onion-based sauce). But the Alentejo became famous for its renowned “Empadas” (chicken pies).

In the past, hen on the table symbolised a well-stocked kitchen. Hens were used to make more hearty dishes. I still remember that hen was reserved for parties, and chicken for everyday dishes. I don’t know if the large-scale production of aviary chickens, which made this a cheap product, is responsible for making it more popular as it disappears from more elaborate menus. As has recently happened. The only new recipe that has emerged and made a name for itself seems to be chicken or hen stuffed with “farinheira” (a sausage made with pork fat, flour and seasonings).

The “cozidos” (stews) from the north of Portugal are here to stay, as is Porto-style tripe. Even today, I still remember that when my father went to Porto, he would always bring us some roasted chicken from Baltar on the way back. It’s as if I can still taste that particular flavour that set it apart. I must admit that I do not appreciate chicken cut up into small pieces; it always seems that there’s a piece of chicken missing. Eating roast chicken, a weekly practice at Churrasco (which has the best chicken in Lisbon), is akin to the ritual of eating a boiled fish’s head.

Well, we haven’t covered all recipes, and I haven’t written anything about capon and turkey, which I will leave for a later opportunity.

And don’t forget that any recipe will always taste better if accompanied by some fine wine.

© Virgílio Nogueiro Gomes

   

There’s no point in trying to find a simpler definition: olive oil is pure olive juice. Nevertheless, there’s something ultimately reassuring about the definitions handed down to us by specialists: “An oily liquid extracted from olives that varies from yellow to green depending on its origins; used in cooking, the pharmaceutical and cosmetic industry, in lighting, lubrification, etc.” So writes António Manuel Monteiro in his unforgettable book “Palavras do Olival” (Words from the Olive Grove). I have never forgotten the rhyme I learnt as a child. At the time, it made me think, but only later would I come to understand it: “Green was my birth, and mourning garments did I don, to bring light to the World, a thousand torments did I take on.” The transformation of the olive is not as reductive, nor is its course so dramatic. However, it continues to be an enchanting and indispensable fruit found on many a table across Portugal. Olives gives rise to olive oil, one of the products forming the trilogy of the Mediterranean diet together with grains, used for making bread, and grapes for wine. Olive oil is so important for the geographical establishment of this diet, it is commonly said that the Mediterranean diet ends precisely where you find the last olive grove.

Literature has always been scattered with references to olive oil – especially in Classical Antiquity, from Homer’s “Iliad” to Livy’s “History of Rome”. Or in Ancient Egypt when Ramses III offered olive trees to the god Ra “so that your olive oil, symbol of life and eternity, might keep the lamps in your sanctuary alive.” Olive oil was synonymous with “by the grace of the Holy Spirit”, conscience, mercy and charity. It seems that the olive tree became the national tree of Ancient Greece when Athena caused an olive tree to spring up, thus supplanting Poseidon in the dispute for the possession of Attica. At the same time, olive oil became a key element in the worship of that goddess. Livy writes that Hannibal made the most of the heat-generating quality of olive oil, and used it to massage his soldiers in order to warm them up and give them strength. Even today, people continue to write about olive oil and olive trees, such as Sylvie Briet who states that “The history of the Mediterranean can be read on its tortured trunk.”

Naturally, the taste of olive oil depends on the type of soil and climate, and above all the different olive varieties in Portugal: Cobrançosa, Verdeal, Madural, Cordovil, Galega (Galician), Lentrisca and Carrasquenha. There are, however, some concepts associated to olive oil characteristics that do not, in fact, influence its quality, such as acidity, for example. In terms of colour, we usually find greener-looking olive oils, which mean that unripe olives were used, olive oils that are more fruity or bitter and spicy, which in no way means that they are not as good. On the other hand, and still in relation to colour, olive oils can also be more yellow as a result of using riper olives, which produce smoother-tasting olive oils. The importance of olive oil, and the need to regulate its production, led to the classification of “Extra-Virgin Olive Oil” for flawless olive oil that tastes and smells like healthy olives, has no organoleptic defects, and an acidity less than or equal to 0.8%. In short, suitable for direct consumption. “Virgin Olive Oil” is a good quality olive oil that tastes and smells like healthy olives. It has an acidity less than or equal to 2%, and may have the slightest taste and smell defects. And then we have “Olive Oil”, a designation given to refined olive oil enriched with an aromatic and fruity virgin olive oil, with an acidity less than or equal to 1%.

The diversity and richness of some of our olive oils, arising from their geographical origin, led to the recognition of the names of those regions and thus we have the following PDOs: Trás-os-Montes, Beira Interior, Ribatejo, Norte Alentejano, Moura and  Alentejo Interior. The variety in taste is related to the combination of olive varieties and, as for me, I prefer complex, slightly spicy olive oils. Like wine, I am not a great consumer of olive oils produced from only one variety of olives.

However, olive oil, whose many benefits in cooking are recognised by all, is also important in other areas. In the past, it was used to massage the bodies of high competition athletes in Ancient Greece and the Roman Empire, and was also used for other skin treatments. And what about health benefits? In the 60s and 70s, we were practically forced to forego olive oil in favour of other vegetable oils. Even for medical reasons! Olive groves were no longer well tended; but now the scientific community is once again recommending the consumption of olive oil – for health reasons. Imagine the number of poems that were written by the light of olive oil lamps? Not to mention the fact that the olive tree is a symbol of Peace. How many more reasons do we need to honour this “Liquid Gold”?

© Virgílio Nogueiro Gomes 

These cakes are on my list of popular desserts. They were made only after 8^th December and were a regular feature of Christmas and New Year meals. They would have been made by my paternal grandmother and were not much more of a memory for my father after her premature passing. Later, after marrying, my mother came across these cakes in my father’s family home and my aunt Delmina gave her the recipe, which I will now try to reproduce. As an adult, I remember often seeing them in several homes at Christmas time.

Sometimes, we would fancy them, and my mother, ever cheerful, would make them for us, even when it wasn’t yuletide. Whatever your appetite, these cakes are very much associated with cold weather.

Rice cakes were also called "seven in the bag" because it was said that only after eating the seventh did a person get a real taste for them!

First we need a cup of carolino rice (short, plump grain) and two and a half cups of water. Boil the rice with a cinnamon stick and lemon or orange peel. When the rice is cooked, remove from heat and allow to cool. Remove the peel and cinnamon stick.

Add two whole eggs and one cup of sugar to the rice and stir well, trying not to crush the rice. Add a little flour to thicken and a teaspoon of baking powder, which is the tricky part for those who need to know specific quantities. Once you get your hands in there, you’ll soon see how much flour is needed.

Once everything is well mixed together, heat a frying pan with oil or olive oil. When the oil is very hot, and with the help of two tablespoons, mould the cakes (just like cod fritters or quenelles) and fry them. After frying, place them briefly on kitchen paper and then in a deep dish. Cover with the sugar syrup I describe next.

For the syrup, you need sugar, port or sherry, water, orange peel and a cinnamon stick. Bring all the ingredients to the boil, stirring gently until the syrup thickens. Remove from heat and pour over the cakes. They taste better after being covered in the syrup for two or three days.

These cakes were not served as a dessert. They were a treat for after dessert or a sweet snack between meals. In my house, they were eaten with coffee or tea, and the most daring enjoyed them with port.

© Virgílio Nogueiro Gomes

November 2011

The cakes in the photo were made by my sister Lina.

Açorda is the Alentejo. Açorda from the Alentejo is one of the most fascinating soups of Portuguese cuisine. It is fascinating for a simplicity which allows for variations that create an “itinerary” of "açordas alentejanas". Then there are the other açordas. In the Alentejo, these other açordas are called migas. And then there are also the açordas from the coast of Estremadura, with fish and seafood, which are in fact a main dish. Basically, the “açorda Alentejana" is a broth seasoned with crushed garlic, salt and coriander. Then, there is a fundamental ingredient which is bread. Then, there are those who make açorda with cod; others who add pennyroyal. Then, then... And so begins a veritable novel based on the açorda.

For Maria de Lourdes Modesto, a true authority on the subject and Alentejana born and bred, to make the Alentejo açorda you start with coriander or pennyroyal, or both together, crushed with garlic and salt. The mixture is placed in the serving terrine then drizzled with olive oil and lots of boiling water, in which the eggs were poached. Stir the broth with a little bread and taste it. Once the broth is ready, add the bread sliced or diced with a knife or torn by hand. The poached eggs can be added at the end or on each plate individually.

From this point on the theories begin, many of them forgetting the essential, which is how each person is used to doing it or how one’s palate was educated. I am not going to dwell on the theory of cutting the bread. Every one should do as they please. However, the variations do not end here. The broth can be of boiled cod or hake, with slices of these two fish added to the açorda.

However, some authors believe that the original açorda was made with pennyroyal, and only later did coriander become popular. They also claim that the bread should be broken up by hand, not cut with a knife, so that the oil and flavours of the crushed herbs, garlic and salt infuse with the bread more.

Following competitions organised by the Confraria Gastronómica do Alentejo, in Évora, a book was published in 2011 with "the best recipes", in which there is a chapter on açordas. It presents two versions of the traditional açorda, including cod, one made with coriander, the other with coriander and pennyroyal. The recipe is essentially the same as the ones previously described but with the addition of green peppers. There is also a recipe from Serpa which includes linguiça (cured sausage), bacon and tomatoes, as well as other traditional ingredients.

For river fish açorda, you use bogas (a type of fresh water fish), pennyroyal instead of coriander and also curd cheese. In the spinach version, besides these ingredients, potatoes, bay leaves, red peppers, cod and soft sheep’s cheese are also included. Parsley açorda naturally comes with parsley, paprika, flour, bay leaves and goat’s cheese. Finally, there is a tomato açorda said to originate from Moura, with cod, tomatoes, potatoes, paprika, bay leaves, onions and Hart’s pennyroyal. In other recipe stashes I found açordas with clams, peppers, hake, allis shad and several with bacon and linguiça.

Joaquim Pulga, in his book "Alentejanando", defines the basis of the açorda as crushed coriander, garlic with olive oil, cod, green pepper, bread and poached eggs. However, he does say that açorda can be done without eggs, without peppers and without cod, and compares its simplicity "to a maiden without friperry." It can also be made with pennyroyal, Hart’s pennyroyal and sea or fresh water fish. In the Marvão region, the dish is also eaten with olives. In the book "Marvão à Mesa" this habit is not mentioned. The açorda is presented with the alternative of pennyroyal or coriander, as well as the option of using paprika.

Recently I attended the presentation of an "Açorda Alentejana" by Vitor Sobral at a congress where the influence of French cuisine in Portugal was discussed. The importance of Vitor Sobral in new Portuguese cuisine is unquestionable. He did not detract unnecessarily from the original, but rather improved and revisited it, lending it a special touch that accentuated the fundamental characteristics of the recipe and enhanced the different flavours. It was a good choice, with a serious presentation of a traditional dish that made all the senses work, and which, according to him, “is a sophisticated recipe that is truly Portuguese”. More proof of how Portuguese cuisine is as dynamic as one expects from the culinary arts. To finish off the dish, he added bunches of grapes.

Have you ever thought of enjoying wine with "açorda Alentejana"? A true challenge.

Bon Appétit!

© Virgílio Nogueiro Gomes

Photo © Adriana Freire

I’ve learned that people become sweeter, eating sweets. I don’t want to make you prove the adage by overdoing it, but it’s true that bitterness never endeared. In the picture, it looks like I want to eat all those sweets. Actually, I only want to share them with you. To prove it, this wonderful recipe is my gift and something you can prepare at home and surprise family and friends:

Trouxas-de-ovos

20 egg yolks

2 egg whites

1 kg sugar

Water

Place the sugar over the heat (a copper pan was used in the old days) with 3 dl of water until it turns into a light syrup (103 ° C). Have ready yolks passed through a fine sieve. Add the egg whites without whisking too much, just to ensure that the yolks bind with the whites. Remove the pan from the heat and place a portion of the yolks and whites in the centre (use a coffee cup as a measure). Return the pan to the heat and once the eggs are consistent and form a layer, remove them with a slotted spoon and place them on a sieve to drain. Repeat this operation until you’ve used all the egg mixture. Make sure the sugar doesn’t get too solid by splashing it with a few drops of water. To make the trouxas, put two layers on top of each other, shinier side up. Trim them with a knife into squares. Put the trimmings in the centre of the layers, roll them up and put them on a platter. Finally, drizzle them with the syrup.

Trouxas-de-ovos were originally made in the country’s convents, and in certain towns, like Amarante, Caldas da Rainha and Beja, they are considered emblematic of the region’s sweets  

Bon Appétit! Merry Christmas! Oh! Don’t forget to choose a good fortified wine to enjoy with them.

© Virgílio Nogueiro Gomes

On the subject of traditional sweets, here is another example of family ingenuity and festive food. Let me begin by saying that I like the name, merendeira (picnic basket). It reminds me of the ongoing preparations for "picnics". Everything was a pretext for these things: a journey (whether long or short), possible delays, being hungry... This is because I was lucky to grow up in the country where life involved small pleasures, and a more cautious outlook.

But let’s get back to our "pumpkin merendeiras", which is one of the sweet buns prepared from the Saints festival, on 1^st November, and traditionally eaten until Epiphany, on 6^th January, but mostly during Christmas period. They were normally homemade, only eaten during these festivities, and shared among family and friends. It wasn’t a rich or convent sweet, but rather a popular one. It was often referred to as ‘the poor people’s cake’. I was told about this tradition by my friend Cassilda Correia, who makes some of the best desserts in her region. This sweet then began to be made in the region of Tentúgal, Montemor-o-Velho and even Coimbra, where similar maize buns (broínhas) are also found.

For these "pumpkin buns", boil pumpkin in salt water, then leave it to drain. Mix the pumpkin with a little sugar, ground cinnamon, fennel and lightly crushed nuts. When there was enough money, crystallised fruit, cut into small pieces, was also added. Mix everything together, gradually adding flour until the dough is more consistent and can be moulded. In this type of recipe, often the expression "add whatever flour necessary" is used, as it depends on how much water the pumpkin still contains. One thing is certain: it takes more flour than sugar. And also a bit of ‘sour’ dough was added to make sure the yeast worked.

Leave the dough to rest for a while, while you grease and dust a baking tray with flour. Then mould the dough into balls and put them in a hot oven. When they are ready, the "buns" will last a few days, preferably stored in a tin.

These merendeiras taste even better with a cup of tea or good fortified wine.

© Virgílio Nogueiro Gomes

The merendeiras in the photo were made at:

Pastelaria POUSADINHA

Estrada Nacional 111

3140-563 Tentúgal - Portugal

TL 00 351 239 951 158