Global Cuisine

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.

This week we will be celebrating both Cinco de Mayo and Teacher Appreciation Week.  Needless to say, I am going to be spending lots of time in the kitchen. Baking for the teacher’s give me lots of joy. Last year, for the teachers, I made Cake in a Jar and in prior year I have made dozens of cookies and pounds of candy.  This year I am using seasonal fruits to inspire my gift giving.

But, before I get to my baking adventures for the teachers, I am planning my Cinco de Mayo menu.  Along with my traditional guacamole, shredded beef tacos with pickled onions, red rice, and mojitos(more on these recipes later), I made a Chili Rellano Tart and this Dulce de Leche Cake. One very small bite of this cake and I couldn’t believe how wonderful it tasted.  If there was a show for “The Best Thing I Ever Baked”, this would be the winner.

It is so moist and so light.  It is a very basic white cake (with booze), but what makes it so rich and delicious is, while warm, a mixture of heavy cream, sweetened condensed milk, and evaporated milk is poured directly over the cake (my thighs are growing as I write this).  Then it sits in the pan, soaking up all this goodness, while the cake cools. As it was cooling, I made some homemade dulce de leche.  Right before serving, I sliced the cake and drizzled the caramel over the top.  This is not something one could keep in the house, it is simply a special occasion kind of treat!

I don't know why eating food on a stick is so much fun, but it is. The best kebabs I ever had were in Istanbul, the meat sizzled on the outside but was juicy on the inside. Luckily kebabs are easy to make at home even for those like me, without an outdoor grill.

I'm amazed at how versatile kebabs are and how they always manage to stretch whatever I'm cooking. It must have something to do with surface area and spacial relations. When food is served on a stick, it just seems like there is more of it. Two slices of eggplant, two small zucchini and just under two Italian sausages somehow made a huge dinner for two. It also gave me the feeling of Summer, even though it was cooked and eaten indoors.

When it comes to kebabs, skip the bamboo. The best kind of skewers are metal--I have two sets, flat metal which are particularly good for meat and vegetables and double pronged which are perfect for seafood. With either one you choose, the food won't slip and slide. In my experience food also cooks faster and more evenly on metal skewers than on bamboo. Buy 'em once, use them forever.

Before I tell you this story, I have to tell you how I met Bobby in the first place. I was in Century City with a friend of mine and we ran into this group of Persian guys. It was all very high school and they were all very hung over. I wasn’t really paying much attention until one of them, within two minutes of having been introduced to me, starting feeling up my arm. I mean, really, feeling up my arm—you know, the underneath part of the upper arm that so many women (and some men) are sensitive about? Yea. To make matters worse, every time I tried to pull away he’d respond by saying, “Give me that filet.” “Excuse me?!?” “You ate a lot of hoomoos as a kid, didn’t you?” “Are you saying I’m fat?!” “Don’t insult the filet this way.”

I didn’t see Bobby again for a few months and had pretty much forgotten about the whole exchange when I was at a birthday party at the new-ish Trader Vic’s and all of a sudden, from across the pool, I hear, “Filet . . . Can it be you?” Needless to say, Bobby and I became fast friends, although he does still try to feel up my arm occasionally.