Global Cuisine

Mushy peas are a traditional side dish to the British classic - Fish & Chips. I was recently in London for the Queen’s Jubilee and stayed at the incredibly beautiful Corinthia Hotel.

It is truly one of London’s best properties. The hotel’s restaurant, The Northall, features "traditional British fare focusing on seasonal produce supplied by artisanal producers from around the British Isles."

Without hesitation, I chose the Deep Fried Haddock in Beer Batter, chips and “proper mushy peas”. My version of mushy peas may not be “proper”, but they are delicious.

Bright, vibrant green with just a hint of mint, they’re great with fish or chicken. Use caution when pulsing with the food processor, you want them coarsely mashed, not pureed.

Known as tortilla de patatas or tortilla española, this dish is not your Mexican tortilla but an omelette of potatoes bound together with eggs. This traditional Spanish food is commonly offered as a tapas served at bars or taken on picnics. It's what I'd like to think of as a Spanish version of the French quiche. In some areas of Spain these tortillas are made in large deep pans so the dish almost looks like a cake or a wheel of cheese. Tortillas made at home resemble American omelettes or Italian frittatas. What makes this tortilla so appealing is how buttery the potatoes turn when they are cooked in olive oil.

Making a tortilla always starts the same way: thin potato slices are boiled in olive oil. They must not be fried or get any color, they should be just cooked until tender. Next the potatoes are combined with beaten eggs and then poured and spread into a skillet. It is cooked on one side and then flipped over to cook on the other. The basic tortilla is made of simply potatoes and eggs, but other ingredients can be added, such as onions, bell peppers, or chorizo. This recipe features all three for the ultimate Spanish flavor.

If you ever visit a San Diego farmers' markets, then chances are you'll see several people milling around who are holding tall, clear plastic cups filled with deliciously ripe fresh fruit such as mangoes, pineapple, and watermelon that have been doused with lime juice, salt, and chili pepper. They may be eating the fruit with a long toothpick (or just with their hands, if they don't mind sticky fingers).

These fruit cups, called copas de frutas in Spanish, are the inspiration for today's recipe: salty, sweet, and tangy Chili Lime Fruit Salad. I have incorporated seasonal fruit such as fresh strawberries, blood oranges, and kumquats, but feel free to substitute what's available where you live.

I added jicama (pronounced hee-kah-mah), also known as a Mexican potato or turnip. It's a large, dense root vegetable with a thin beige peel and a juicy, creamy white flesh. What does jicama taste like? Jicama tastes sort of like a cross between an apple, a potato, and celery. It's mildly sweet and exceptionally crunchy, like a water chestnut.

There are just some things that instantly take me back to my childhood. Sopaipillas do that to me every time. Made by my grandmother, the tender warm pillows of fried dough were sprinkled with cinnamon sugar and drizzled with honey and always disappeared within minutes. She would encourage us to eat them immediately while they were still warm, but it was always said with a wink in her eye – she knew we couldn’t keep our hands off them until there was an empty plate of grease-laden cinnamon-scented crumbs.

My grandmother was the best cook I have ever known (next to my mom, of course!). She was in the kitchen every day and her way with food was astonishing, no matter what she prepared.  But unlike her rice and beans, sopaipillas were for special events (as were her bunuelos, too). It was usually Christmas or New Year’s Eve when she would make dough and fry it in her cast iron skillet, and I always wondered why we had to wait so long. To a child eleven months might as well be an eternity.

Traveling the world you’re bound to find various versions of hot-oil-meets-dough desserts, whether it be beignets, youtiao, malasadas, loukoumades or gulab jamun.  Unfortunately I adore every single one of them. But sopaipillas top my list, and not just because of their familial significance but also because they are among the most basic of all fried dough desserts. A very simple dough puffs up in the hot oil in a matter of minutes, and when drizzled with honey it’s pure nirvana.