June 12, 2006
2 Comments

A la recherche du temps perdu

Et voila.Remember the other day when I was whingeing about missing Great Aunt Chi Chi's ropa vieja? The truth of the matter is that I actually know how to make it--well, a version somewhat like hers--I'm just too lazy.

But N loves it, and because I know it's my wifely duty to have a hot meal on the table when he gets home, I make it every now and then, particularly if there's a sale on stringy, fatty cuts of beef at the supermarket.

Most auspiciously, the pot I cooked this particular batch in actually belonged to Chi Chi herself. It's just a crappy stainless steel pot, but for some reason it's perfect for stews. I actually liberated it from my mother's house last time I was upstate.

My mom: "Do you want the Cuban pot [see, we called it the Cuban pot because it was Chi Chi's and it was all she cooked with and for all I know she rowed all the way from Cuba in it]? It's taking up too much space."

Me (eager to have a big pot and also to piece-by-piece disassemble my mother's Collyeresque kitchen before she moves to Florida*): "Hells yeah."

So, herewith: Chi Chi's Ropa Vieja Simulacrum.

Things you will need:

  • 2 lbs or so of flank steak, skirt steak, or whatever steak is on sale (the fattier and stringier, the better)

  • 2 carrots, peeled and chopped un-thoruoghly

  • 2 onions, same

  • unspecified quantity of dried oregano

  • 3 or 4 bay leaves

  • 2 large peppers, one red, one green, chopped like you just don't care (Viz.)

  • 2 cups or so of whole, unpeeled tomatoes (I recommend Guido brand)

  • chopped garlic, as much as you can stand

  • unspecified quantity of cumin

  • salt and pepper, uh-doy

The first thing you do is put the meat, the carrots, one of the onions, and the bay leaves and oregano into the Cuban pot, and fill it with water. Bring it to a boil and then let it simmer for anywhere between 45 and 90 minutes, depending on how hungry you are.

In the meantime, go watch TV and smoke cigarettes. Rub one out. Play some online poker.

After the allotted time, turn off the stove, extract the meat (with tongs, please) and scoop out all the veggies and whatnot with a slotted spoon. Pile it all on a plate you don't care about. Dump the bilge water into your toilet and flush twice.

While the stinky, fatty, boiled meat cools, heat up some oil--peanut, vegetable, olive, pas d'importance--and cook the onions, garlic, and peppers until they're all limp and shit. Dump in the boiled carrots and onions and rescued bay leaves.

Once the onions are translucent, add the can of tomatoes and the cumin. Put the can in the sink and feel guilty about recycling.

While you let that cook for about 15 minutes, hope that the meat has cooled down some so that you can pull it apart with your goddamned fingers. Yes, this is how it's done. If you're so inclined, you can carve small slices with a knife, but that will indicate that you are lazy and completely insensitive to the generations of Cubans who have suffered under Castro's oppressive rule. Think Chi Chi had a Kyocera ceramic knife?

Now, I know for a fact that Chi Chi devoted a lot of time to this particular endeavor. Her ropa vieja had a totally uniform texture--the meat was torn apart into the tiniest of slivers, and her onions and peppers and whatnot were chopped to a faretheewell. This ain't how I roll, but the smaller the pieces of meat, the closer to God, ok?

Set a pot of white rice on to boil. Preferably, the rice should come from a ten-pound government-issue bag, but Uncle Ben's is alright. For the love of all that is holy, don't get down with the brown.

Add the meat to the vegetable concoction and let it simmer, covered, for anywhere between 15 and 45 minutes. I know Chi Chi did it longer than that, but unlike her, our sole purpose in life isn't to feed the legions of obese family members who descend on our condos like cologne-drenched locusts.

Spoon a generous portion of the stew on top of your government-issue rice**. And, as she would say, ENYOY!

*We hope. We hope!
**Generally, Chi Chi would serve her ropa vieja with a side of tostones and other good fried things, but I recommend you have a salad or something, because you look like you could use the roughage.

Posted by Dana at 12:00 AM

Comments

We can't eat the beef these days. There are mad cows here in the Northwest, y'know. But if you've got Chi Chi's recipe for tostones and care to share, I will build an even larger altar in your name.

Posted by: bmarkey at June 12, 2006 02:20 AM

bmarkey, what are the odds? Eat some damn beef, already. You could get hit by a bus tomorrow, and you'd die without ropa vieja in your tummy.

Posted by: tizzie at June 12, 2006 08:20 AM