Long Island Larder: Super Bowl Sunday
So they're over. The holidays seem to begin with Halloween and stretch on and on through Thanksgiving, Christmas, Chanukah, Kwanzaa, Ramadan, New Year's Eve and New Year's Day, and for some benighted families (like mine), with three or four birthdays tossed into the melee, it ain't over till it's over.
But guess what's not over, sports fans? You may think that New Year's Night ends college football with the New Orleans Sugar Bowl - which has been preceded by the Rose Bowl, the Fiesta Bowl, the Cotton Bowl, the Citrus Bowl, the Gator Bowl, and, so help me, something I had never heard of before, the Outback Bowl (from Tampa, that famous "outback"), plus a half-dozen assorted minor "bowls" scattered around the country (though, oddly enough, no Rice Bowl).
And as I write the Peach Bowl is under way and the Orange Bowl comes up tonight.
But for us true fanatics, the Fat Lady still hasn't sung: The N.F.L. playoffs are winding to a close that will culminate with the Super Bowl on Jan. 25. That's the last real football before we enter the horse latitudes and the icy grip of endless hockey games and the 3,000 or so basketball games televised from all over the country from now until June.
So, you might well ask, what does a cook care?
Well, even fanatics gotta eat, and if the cook is one of their number, game plans must be made in the kitchen so that no plays are missed.
And if you are not a fan, you can win their hearts and minds by going straight for the stomach. Then maybe you can get them out to a movie or to watch the ice-dancing competitions.
Do-Ahead Dishes
The best options are do-ahead dishes and simple food that doesn't require a lot of cutlery and fussing around to serve; it can be made now and stashed in the fridge (or freezer, if necessary), then whipped out during the endless commercials and time-out lulls.
You'd be amazed at how much can be rushed through while the announcer is bleating on about tires or cars or various potables. (The most satisfactory potables for football are usually several kinds of beer, soft drinks, Bloody Marys, Tequila Sunrises, Margaritas. That sort of sprightly drink. Wine-drinkers are usually asleep by half-time.)
I realize that many people will settle for soggy pies hauled from the nearest pizzeria by whoever loses the coin toss. However, given the distance most of us live from any pizza joint, the things always arrive flabby and tepid and totally unresponsive to attempts at rehabilitation.
Pizza is street food. I've never met one that was edible more than 10 feet from the oven it was baked in.
A Versatile Food
Empanadas are little meat pies, originally Spanish, that migrated into Mexican cooking. They're portable food, perhaps invented like sandwiches so that Lord Sandwich could keep to his card table, or like the nori-maki (handrolls) invented for Japanese gamblers.
They may be eaten hot or cold; they may be sweet or savory, and they may be served as hors d'oeuvres, a main course, a snack, or a dessert. Any food that versatile is certainly worth learning about.
Leftover meats, fish, refried beans, ratatouille, cheese and onions, or any moist but not too sloppy filling makes delicious empanadas. They're really supposed to be fried, but I find baking them simpler, and the turnovers less rich and heavy.
It doesn't matter whether you bake or fry, but it is essential that the filling, whatever it is, be chilled before it is put into its pastry pocket.
Empanadas
These empanadas are filled with picadillo (a sort of Mexican hash made with ground beef) and are best eaten hot.
Makes about a dozen
6-inch turnovers.
Picadillo
2 Tbsp. olive or salad oil
1 lb. ground chuck
2 cloves garlic, minced
2/3 cup finely chopped onion
Salt and pepper to taste
2 Tbsp. chili powder (or more if you have a hot tooth)
1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1/4 tsp. ground allspice
3 Tbsp. tomato paste
1/2 cup water
1 Tbsp. small capers
Heat the oil and saute the ground beef, breaking up the chunks with a fork. Add the garlic, onions, and salt and pepper to taste. Cook, stirring, until the onions are transparent. Stir in the chili powder, cumin, and allspice; cook briefly over low heat to rid the spices of their "raw" taste. Stir in the tomato paste, water, and capers and simmer about five minutes, covered. If the picadillo is too dry, add enough water so that the mixture is juicy but not runny.
Spread out on a platter and chill in the refrigerator while you make the pastry.
Pastry
2 cups flour, sifted
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
2/3 cup vegetable shortening (such as Crisco)
6 or 7 Tbsp. ice-cold club soda (or plain water)
Sift the flour, baking powder, and salt together; then, with a pastry blender or two table knives, cut in the shortening until it is in bits the size of small peas. (Or blend the shortening into the flour, baking powder, and salt in a food processor.)
Sprinkle on the cold club soda spoonful by spoonful, pressing the dough together with a fork. (I don't know why this makes crisper pastry than plain water, but it does.) Use just enough club soda to hold the flour and shortening together.
Form the dough into two balls, handling as little as possible. Wrap in plastic wrap and chill for half an hour in the fridge.
Fry Or Bake
Roll one ball out on a floured pastry cloth or board to about an eighth of an inch thickness. Using the lid of a coffee can or something sharp-edged and about six inches in diameter (hors d'oeuvre empanadas should be only about three inches in diameter), cut out circles of pastry and lay them aside on waxed paper. Repeat with the second ball of dough.
Spoon about one tablespoon of the chilled picadillo onto the center of each pastry circle, moisten halfway round the edge with ice water, and fold the pastry over to form a half-moon. Then crimp the edges tightly together with a fork. Complete the remaining turnovers.
Either fry the empanadas a few at a time in about one inch of very hot oil for about five minutes (then they must be well-drained on lots of paper toweling), or bake as follows:
Preheat oven to 425 degrees F. Arrange the turnovers about an inch apart on a greased cookie sheet, prick each with a sharp fork, brush with melted shortening or salad oil, and bake about 15 minutes until they color a pale golden brown.
Note: These freeze well, unbaked. Thaw before baking.
Marinated Tuna Burritos
Strictly California cuisine. I got the basic idea for these from an imaginative paperback by Victoria Wise and Susanna Hoffman. These handy snacks could also be made with salmon or swordfish and are easy and quick to make. Some fish markets sell chunks, cut from the premium steaks, at a bit lower price. If large, cut them into bite-size pieces.
Makes 12 burritos.
2 lbs. tuna, salmon, or swordfish chunks
2 Tbsp. grated onion
1/4 cup fresh lime or lemon juice
1/2 cup low-sodium soy sauce or Japanese marinade
1 tsp. red pepper flakes
2 Tbsp. olive oil
1/2 head savoy or Chinese cabbage, shredded
Salt to taste
2 Tbsp. minced fresh cilantro
1 or 2 fresh jalapenos, seeded and minced
Your favorite salsa
12 flour burritos
Toss And Turn
Mix together the first five ingredients and let stand, at room temperature, for about 20 minutes.
Heat a really large skillet or two smaller ones and film them with olive oil. Drain the fish chunks and toss them in the pan in a single layer to sear quickly. Turn them quickly several times for about three minutes, remove, and keep warm.
Heat the tortillas in a low oven, wrapped in a tea towel, or in the microwave very briefly.
Toss the cabbage into the same skillet and stir-fry quickly over high heat. Remove. Divide the fish and cabbage among the warmed tortillas, sprinkle with cilantro and jalapeno, and drizzle a bit of salsa on top of each. Roll them up and serve.
These could also be made ahead, wrapped in wax or parchment paper, then reheated very briefly - they're to be eaten warm, not hot -when needed.
Black Bean Soup
If you puree this soup and make it not too thick, it can be served in mugs and won't even need spoons. Nothing could be simpler than cooking black beans, but if you prefer, there are pretty good canned ones on supermarket shelves.
Makes about two quarts.
4 cups cooked black beans
3 cups bean juice or beef broth
1 bay leaf
1 Tbsp. olive oil
2 cloves garlic
1 large onion, chopped
1 Tbsp. ground cumin
1 tsp. ground coriander
Salt and red pepper to taste
Red wine or sherry vinegar
Garnish: sour cream (optional)
Simmer the beans briefly with the bean juice or broth and bay leaf. Heat the oil in a skillet and gently fry the garlic, onion, cumin, and coriander until aromatic and the onions are transparent. Stir this into the bean soup and season to taste with salt, pepper, and a splash or two of vinegar. Simmer briefly and puree (after removing the bay leaf).
Reheat and serve in mugs, with a teaspoon or so of thinned sour cream on top.