The Names of Cuts of Beef in Mexican Spanish

A Trip to the Carnicería

by Victoria Challancin

Shopping for meat can be daunting. This may come as a surprise to Americans who are accustomed to shopping in American grocery stores where everything is sanitized, tidy, clearly weighed, and labeled with familiar terms in a familiar language. Stray a bit from your familiar turf, however, and a whole new world could reveal itself. I learned over thirty years ago, when I left my carnivorous comfort zone and moved abroad, that, in fact, there might be serious reasons other than health concerns to become a vegetarian. And one trip to a "foreign" butcher shop just might push you over the edge.

Journeying through Afghanistan, where fly-encrusted fresh carcasses were hung in doorways and hacked on all day by butchers who sold their meat wrapped in newspaper, should have given me pause. It didn’t. I ate my way through every kebab house that placed itself in my path at mealtime throughout countries such as Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, and Pakistan. And when I moved to Abu Dhabi, where meat is killed by the humane practices prescribed by the Prophet Mohammad, I still didn’t flinch. Even in sophisticated Paris, where I lived with my cousin, a trip to the boucherie with its horse-head sign didn’t slow me down either. Even when chickens were purchased with their heads still attached and rabbits came unseparated from their furry feet to prove that they weren’t cats, my carnivorous habits persevered. Although these animals provided a unique challenge when faced with my one dull knife, I still managed. Mexico? My son’s favorite food is head tacos (tacos de cabeza) from a local food stall which displays it’s semi-bare, lewdly grinning heads all in a row—clearly a mark of pride over how many have been sold. And last Spring when I led two different groups of women through the souks of Morocco, I may have been the only person completely inured to the dripping animal heads placed enticingly on the counters of the colorful butcher shops.

But in the grand scheme of things, a chicken with its head is still obviously a chicken. A rabbit with its feet, as well as providing a built-in good-luck talisman, was familiar to me. A goat’s head? Well, ok. I’ve eaten worse. Goats' eyes, for example. Since my father and brothers were hunters, as were most of the males I knew in South Florida where I grew up, they provided our table with a constant supply of fresh meat. I understood the process. And though I have had to defend hunting practices as an adult whose consciousness has certainly undergone change, I grew up being accustomed to seeing freshly killed animals being prepared for dinner or for freezing. In fact, our chest freezers always were brimming with venison, quail, dove, rabbit, frog legs, turtle, and occasionally alligator. I cannot claim to have been removed from the process. My exposure was hardly sanitized.

So what happened over twenty years ago when I moved to Mexico? Was it the butchering process itself that was distasteful? Certainly no more so than was normal. Was the butcher himself not obliging? Never! Was it the meat itself? Of course, it did look substantially different, not remotely close to cuts I could then recognize, but it was still, after all, just meat. Was it the language? Well…it’s true that while my exceptional language skills allowed me to translate rather soon after my arrival such Spanish terms like T-bone, other cuts remained a mystery. Costillas I could handle; falda seemed obvious (but wasn’t); bistec sounded suspiciously like “beefsteak,” and though it didn’t look quite the same, I trusted that there was a connection between the two that I could believe in. But what on earth was diezmillo? Chambarete? Aguayón? And how was I going to explain to my helpful carnicero, who was so eager to accommodate, what it was that I wanted? Pointing to my shoulder or patting my belly when ordering seemed somehow inadequate. A crash course in “meat” Spanish was clearly necessary. Unfortunately, the Internet was not yet born and most books and charts were based on the Spanish from Spain, not Mexico, so the terms made little sense to either me or to my poor, obliging butcher. And now for those of my readers and students who have need of some help with their Mexican butcher or at the grocery store and for those of you who can’t understand your Mexican cookbooks, let me share what I have learned over the years. Let’s see if I can demystify the process of translating some basic cuts from English to Mexican Spanish. And let’s start with beef.

Understanding Cuts of Beef
Pre-cut meat in Mexico may look different than you are accustomed to seeing. While the basic cuts are pretty much the same, the way they are broken down may be different. Generally, Mexican butchers are extremely helpful and will cut meat to order, if you can explain exactly what you want. Mexican beef is not usually aged, almost never marbled, and usually what little fat there is, is removed. For this reason, meat that is to be grilled or cooked quickly, benefits from the marinating process. Larger cuts are generally braised or stewed. Because terminology may vary from region to region as well, a little knowledge of the animal itself or from what part the meat comes from, is very useful.
Because beef is muscle tissue, the cuts that come from frequently used muscles are logically tougher and generally require long, slow moist-heat cooking methods such as braising in liquid (braising, stewing, and boiling) to loosen and melt the connective tissues, a process which makes them tender. But not all connective tissue will become tender when cooked.

The two main components of connective tissue are collagen (white) and elastin (yellow). When a slow, moist cooking method is used, collagen melts and becomes gelatin-like. Elastin, on the other hand, only shrinks and becomes even harder when it cooks. For this reason, elastin should be removed before cooking.

The most exercised muscles, the toughest, are the chuck, brisket, round and shank. The tenderest cuts come from the least excercised muscles, such as the loin.

Toughest cuts:
Chuck: pot roast, stew meat, hamburger
Brisket: corned beef and barbecued beef
Round: (including top round, bottom round, eye of the round, and rump roast) Top round can be roasted (example: London broil), but the other cuts should be cooked using moist-heat methods. Sometimes, however, these cuts are roasted and served very thin, as in deli-style roast beef.
Shank, or leg: is best braised, stewed, or in stocks.

The short plate and flank constitute the cuts considered “medium tough,” or if you cup is half-full like mine, “medium tender.” Even though the muscle fiber is tough, these cuts still contain sufficient intramuscular fat to help maintain tenderness. These cuts can be grilled, but benefit from being marinated. Cutting them across the grain once they are cooked, also yields a more tender piece of meat.

Medium-tender cuts:
Short plate: skirt steak
Flank: flank and hanger steaks (good for Mexican fajitas)

The most delicate cuts of beef come from the rib, short loin, and sirloin. Cuts like rib steaks (also called delmonico or prime rib), rib eye steaks, (boneless), and rib roasts, all come from the rib. The sirloin provides a variety of steaks named from where they are cut from. These can be broiled, grilled, sautéed, or roasted.

The most delicate cuts:
Rib: rib steaks, rib eye steaks, rib roasts
Sirloin: sirloin, top sirloin, bottom sirloin, and tri-tip

The most tender cuts come form the short loin. From the larger side of the short loin we get porterhouse, T-bone, top loin, strip, New York strip, and shell steak. The smaller side provides the tenderloin or filet mignon. The loins can be cut into roasts or smaller steaks.

The most tender cuts:
Steaks: Porterhouse, T-bone, top loin, strip, New York strip, and shell
Roasts: tenderloin, filet mignon


A Few Tips for Cooking Beef
Amounts to buy: Allow 225g/8oz to 350g/12oz per person from a roast on the bone and 150g/6oz to 225g/8oz per person from boneless roasts. A steak weighing 125g/5oz to 225/8oz should be enough to satisfy most appetites.

Safe temperatures: A roast whose internal temperature reads 145F, is considered safe to eat. Ground meat is considered safe at 160F.

Medium rare: 145F
Medium: 160F
Well-done: 170F


A Glossary of Terms in English/Español
(Note: This program will not leave the following list in appropriate columns--sorry!)
Basic Terms:
English/Español

Beef carne de res
Ground beef carne molida or molida de res
Boneless deshuesada/o, pulpa, or en trozo
Very finely chopped picada
To shred deshebrar
Bone marrow tuétano
Meat for grilling carne para asar
Meat for shredding (for tacos) carne para deshebrar
Meat for stewing carne para guisar

Specific Cuts of Beef/Cortes de Res
I have amplified the basic chart provided by The Beef Retail group at http://www.beefretail.org/markSpanishLanguageBeefCutsChart.aspx
I have also given the most common cuts found in San Miguel de Allende, where I live. Do check it out though as the drawings should make everything clear.Chuck
Chuck Diezmillo or sometimes paleta (shoulder)
Chuck roast Paleta or diezmillo en trozo Chuck shoulder Bistec corazón de paleta deshusad
Chuck shoulder steak, boneless Bistec corazón de diezmilloNeck Pescuezo (used for broths or jugo de res)
Shoulder Paleta (used for chuck steaks and pot roasts)
Blade DiezmilloCross rib roast Diezmillo
Brisket Pecho
Stew meat/beef Res para guisar
Brisket Pecho Whole brisket Pecho entero Flat-cut brisket, boneless Pecho, corte plano, deshuesado
Shank Chambarete Foreshank or Cross-cut shank Chambarete de mano Rear shank Chambarete de mano
For Stock Copete
Loin Lomo
Short loin FileteTop loin steak Chuleta de filete Filet mignon FileteT-bone T-bone (yes,it is the same)
Soup bones Retazo con hueso o huesos para caldoPorterhouse Chulete de los lomos Tenderloin steak, pounded thin Sábana (i.e. "sheet")
Rib Entrecot Rib roast or steak Costillas Short ribs Agujas cortas
Flank Falda (of course falda means "skirt" in Spanish, but this is really a flank steak)
Plate Falda anteriorFlank Falda posteriorSkirt steak (from the diaphragm muscle) Arrachera
Sirloin AguayónSirloin steak Chuleta de aguayónSirloin tip roast Aguayón en trozo Top sirloin steak Bistec de aguayónTri-tip roast Empuje en trozoTri-tip steak Bistec de empuje
Round PiernaTop Round Steak Bistec de CentroRound Tip Steak, thin cut Milanesa de pulpa bolaRound tip roast Pulpa bola en trozoBottom round roast Pulpa contra en trozoEye round roast Cuete en trozoEye round steak Bistec de cuete
Ribs CostillasRib roast (small end, premium) Costillar Punta PequeñaRib steak, small end ChuletónRib Eye Roast, premium Costillar de primera, deshuesadoRib Eye Steak Rib Eye Steak (yes, it is the same)Rib steaks Costillas chuletasBack ribs Costillas traserasShort ribs Agujas cortas
Short Loin LomoTop loin (strip) steak, boneless Bistec de lomo, deshuesadoT-Bone steak T-bone steak (the same in Spanish)Porterhouse steak Porterhouse steakTenderloin roast, premium Filete en trozo, de primeraTenderloin steak Bistec de filete
Short Plate Agujas
Short ribs Agujas cortas
Skirt steak Arrachera
Round/Rump Roast Tapa
Top round TapaBottom round,bottom round, eye of round CueteTip roast, Tip steaks Bola or empuje
Other Cuts Otros CortesGround beef Carne molidaCubed steak Bistec suavizadoBeef for kebabs Cubos para brochetasStew beef Carne para guisarBeef for stir-fry Tiritas de carne

©Victoria Challancin.  

A Pretty Salad Treatment

A Pretty Salad Treatment
by Victoria Challancin

Like most cooks and cooking teachers, I have folders of photos torn from magazines and newspapers of pretty food, interesting "platings," stunning garnishes, and different presentations that vary from the norm. This is a picture of a salad we made in one of my classes for Mexican cooks, inspired by a photo of a similar salad from Southern Living magazine. We made "cups" from peeled strips of cucumber. We then filled the cups with red leaf lettuce, purslane, and watercress. We added a half of a piece of cooked bacon, as did the original recipe, plus a few thin carrot sticks. And although these photos don't reflect it, after forming the salads, we then sprinkled them with crumbled blue cheese, toasted pine nuts, and a drizzle of vinaigrette made with sherry vinegar.

Southern Roots, Pound Cake, and High-Altitude Baking

High-Altitude Alchemy
by Victoria Challancin

Growing up on an island in Lake Okeechobee in Palm Beach County, I have a visceral understanding of the term “sea level.” I knew that if I opened my front door, I could put my toe in water. I knew if I dug in the dirt, any shallow hole I made was likely to refill with water in a matter of minutes. When I baked, I knew my cakes and cookies would be perfect, or at least I knew my mother’s baking never failed.

And I learned at an early age that pound cakes were essential to life. You could eat them with fresh fruit for dessert; you could toast slices of them with an additional pound of butter for breakfast. You could feed friends and neighbors who “dropped by” back when people had time “drop by.” You made countless pound cakes and took them to any occasion where your mother had admonished you not to turn up “empty-handed.” They accompanied you to all births. To all funerals. To the homes of ailing friends. To any occasion happy or sad, a pound cake was a welcome addition and knowing how to prepare one was a requisite for growing up. So I dutifully entered the adult world armed with this culinary ammunition. And as I grew up, so did my pound cakes: over the years the basic recipe evolved. There were cream cheese versions, sour cream versions, pound cakes with black pepper, pound cakes with fresh lavender, and yes, chocolate. Of course there was chocolate.

When I moved to the Arab world, I continued with my Southern tradition. Abu Dhabi and Bahrain, countries where I lived for many years, were clearly at sea level--in fact, parts of both countries were reclaimed right from the sea. I continued making pound cakes there for my university colleagues who needed something to nibble on with their ever-present, cardamom-laced coffee. For my British friends, they were my American addition to “tea.” I made them for countless people who helped me in myriad ways. I was secure in my Southern tradition. I thought it would last forever.

And then I moved to San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. Never mind that all the books put the altitude of this charming colonial city at around 6400 feet, the GPS outside my front door clearly reads otherwise. Six thousand nine hundred feet! Do I need to tell you that this did not bode well for my beloved pound cakes? No,indeed.

My first attempt at cooking pound cake in San Miguel, after two and a half hours of cooking, yielded a beautiful cake, which had a two-inch-thick crust that when chiseled off with a putty knife tasted great, if a bit dangerous for the teeth. The inside, which remained raw, I just threw away. Clearly, something was wrong. My recipe was foolproof. It was my Mother’s, for Goodness sake! What was wrong? It clearly wasn’t the fault of my own negligence, nor genies in the oven, nor bad flour. It was the altitude. The science of cooking had finally trumped the art.

Twenty years and countless cake-making attempts later, I can say with assurance that I have learned a thing or two. Plus, there is the invaluable help and guidelines from such well-known cooks like Shirley O. Corriher, (Cookwise) and Susan Purdy (Pie in the Sky), plus venerable institutions such as the USDA.

I will now summarize this knowledge for fellow high-altitude bakers or Southerners who have strayed far from their roots.

The Science of High Altitude Baking

We all have heard that cooking is an art, baking a science. And as will all things scientific, it helps to understand what is going on. A little practical knowledge is useful when planning a remedy. A little practical knowledge makes “knowing” possible. On the other hand, don’t get bogged down in the science of it all. Don’t be too intimidated to just jump in and bake!

Some Practical Information
What constitutes a high altitude? Cakes generally behave well at 3000 feet or below. But at higher altitudes, there can be real problems. The diminished atmospheric pressure causes liquids to evaporate more quickly, causing gas bubbles to rise and pop more readily, resulting in less liquid in the cake itself. The cake may rise too quickly and the cell structure overexpand, causing the cake to have a coarse texture. With the loss of bubbles, the other ingredients, like sugar, become more concentrated and without the bubbles that actually “leven” the cake, it falls. The result is a flat, heavy, well…mess. Another unpleasant scenario is that the rapidly rising and expanding air bubbles may inflate so much that the cake actually spills over the top of the pan before deflating.

There is another feature of high-altitude living that must be factored into baking: the generally lower air pressure also means lower humidity as moisture evaporates more quickly. The rapid evaporation robs the cake of the moisture which helps to gelatinize the starch in the flour and set the cake. Those of us who live in the arid climate of the High Central Plateau of Mexico, long ago recognized that the "sucking sound" we hear, has nothing, in fact, to do with NAFTA and its effect on the American job market and everything to do with the moisture being sucked from our bodies by rather extreme climatic conditions.

The same is true for your high-altitude cakes. The gas bubbles rise quickly and coalesce, giving the cake a coarse texture; the batter overflows because it fails to “set:” cell walls rupture, causing the cake to collapse; sugars concentrate during this process, making the cake stick to the pan; the rapid loss of moisture retards the browning process, giving a pale crust. And so it goes. But just as NAFTA and dry skin have no easy answers, neither are the remedies for high altitude baking exact. The following guidelines will help, but a little experimentation will still be necessary.


Adjusting one or more key ingredients will certainly help correct problems, but don’t try to do them all at once. When baking cakes in San Miguel, I usually reduce the baking powder slightly and increase the flour, liquid, and oven temperature slightly. I don’t really do it in any measured way—just gentle unmeasured tweaks: a tad less levening, a bit more flour, a skosh more liquid. And I tend to leave the sugar alone. My oven is unreliable at best, and cooking times always vary. A bit of experimenting will help you see what works best for you, your oven, and your taste. Remember that these guidelines are for regular cakes which contain butter, sugar, and eggs, not for light sponge cakes or angel food cakes which generally have no leveners and little or no fat.

General High Altitude Adjustments
(the following guidelines have been adjusted for baking at an altitude over 6000 feet)

Baking Powder: Reduce baking powder by 1/4 teaspoon for each teaspoon listed in the recipe.

Liquid: Increase liquid by 3 to 4 tablespoons for each cup listed.

Flour: Baking in dry climates means that ingredients such as flour are also drier. Because flour is hygroscopic (i.e. it acts like a sponge), that is another reason to increase liquids in recipes using flour to compensate for the estra dryness of the flour itself.

Oven temperature: Increase baking temperature by 15 to 25 degrees Fahrenheit (this helps to set the batter before it overexpands, retards the loss of bubbles, and gives a finer texture).

Sugar: Most general guidelines for high-altitude baking suggest that for each cup of sugar given in a recipe, decrease by 2 to 3 tablespoons. I usually compensate instead, by increasing liquids and flour. If I’m going to eat cake, I figure it might as well be sweet.

Fat: Fat, such as butter or oil, weakens the cell structure of a cake, thus rich cakes which contain fat, can do with one or two tablespoons less fat per cup.

Eggs: On the other hand, the protein in eggs strengthens cell structure, thus adding an egg may prevent a cake from falling.

Cooking Time: Actual cooking time may need to be increased.

And what does all this mean for my beloved pound cakes? They still don’t look quite like they did at sea level, but with a little reduction of butter, a little prayer, a touch of vigilance…the tradition lives on.

A Salt Primer

A Salt Primer
by Victoria Challancin

One of the questions I am frequently asked is “With all the varieties of salt available to today’s consumer, how do I know which to choose?” A good question. Something that was once so basic has become a quandary for diners and cooks alike. Let’s take a look at some basic facts about salt.

What is salt?
If there is one formula most of us non-scientists remember from our chemistry classes in what seems like the days of yore is NaCl, or sodium cloride, a crystalline compound that comes from the oceans. Salt is either harvested from sea water through evaporation or mined from inland deposits left by ancient seas. NaCl. Sodium Cloride. Salt. So what’s all the fuss about? The consumer now has the option to consider texture (fine, coarse, flaky), source (Hawaii, France, Wales, England, the Himalayas), color (white, gray, pink, yellow), and mineral content. Here is some basic information to help sort it out.

Sodium Intake
1) According to the American Medical Association processed foods account for 75 to 80 percent of the daily sodium intake for most Americans.
2) The sodium that naturally occurs in fresh foods accounts for another 10 percent.
3) The “discretionary” use of salt, either added at the table or during the cooking process by the cook, accounts for 5 to 10 percent of daily sodium consumption.

While the actual amount of salt you consume is of course up to you, let’s see if we can clear up the mystery about the actual type of salt you add to your food and which you can control.

Texture
There are two basic “sizes” or textures of salt created during the refining process: fine and coarse.

Fine salt, such as the table salt we all grew up with, dissolves easily and is easy to measure. This makes it perfect for general use, especially in baking where both characteristics make it practical. Often it contains iodine, which was first added to salt in the early 20th century in the United States to help prevent the widespread problem of goiters, and anti-clumping additives. The bulk of fine table salt sold today comes from salt mines, though fine sea salt with no additives is increasingly available.

Another fine-textured salt is pickling salt, which contains no additives that might cloud the pickling brine. You can also sometimes find something labeled “popcorn” salt, which is simply extremely fine salt that is perfect for popcorn, French fries, or anywhere a light dusting of salt is desired.

Coarse salts include Kosher salt, rock salt, and some sea salts. Coarse salt, which doesn’t dissolve as quickly or as easily as table salt, makes a good choice for developing a flavorful crust on meats, breads, and roasted vegetables. It is also frequently used on finished dishes to give a crunchy “bite.”

You would think that Kosher salt refers to salt that conforms to Jewish dietary laws, but this isn’t the case. Kosher salt, a term restricted in use to North America, really indicates a coarse salt that is used for koshering meats where the meats are coated in a coarse salt to help in the extraction of blood, a process thus rendering them “kosher,” or suitable for use in strict Jewish diets. Because kosher salt grains take up more space or volume than regular table salt, the amount used often has to be increased; often one and a half to twice as much kosher salt is needed in a recipe. Generally, kosher salt isn’t recommended for baking, as baking recipes do not typically require sufficient liquid to thoroughly dissolve the larger salt crystals. However, chefs often prefer kosher salt for other recipes because it doesn’t have a metallic taste, which ordinary iodized table salt has, and because its more open granular structure yields a flaky product that has pleasing, irregular particles.

Less-refined, grayish rock salt is the chunky crystal salt traditionally used in ice cream machines. Due to its size, it is not suitable for cooking, except to serve as a bed or base for roasting potatoes, serving oysters on the half shell, or encrusting meats or fish during the cooking process and removing before eating. A word of warning: Make sure rock salt is labeled “food-grade,” if using for cooking.

In today’s trendy food world, there is a glut of specialty salts, which are mainly sea salts made from the evaporated water of the oceans. These salts, which come in both fine and coarse textures, receive minimal processing which means that certain minerals are left in tact, giving the salts different colors and subtle differences in taste due to the presences of trace minerals. Before you pay the price for these exotic colored sea salts to use at home or when dining in up-scale restaurants, note that all these salts lose their unique flavors when cooked or dissolved. It is best to save them for a final garnish where their subtlety might be distinguishable.

A Few Tips for Using Salt in Cooking

• Be careful when adding salt to foods that are naturally high in sodium, such as beets, kale, chard, celery, spinach, dandelion greens, carrots, endive, corn, artichokes, and the Mexican romeritos.
• Salt also occurs naturally in all seafoods, so use additional salt sparingly and remember that salt will also toughen shellfish.
• Because the tip of the tongue is less sensitive than other parts, be sure to sample a large enough portion to cover the middle and sides of the tongue when checking the saltiness of foods while cooking.
• High heat dulls the taste buds, so be sure to cool foods a bit before tasting.
• If using high temperatures during cooking, it is a good idea to salt meat before the cooking begins. This helps to form a crust and seal in moisture as well as caramelize the natural sugars in the meat itself.
• Do not store salt in a silver salt shaker as the chlorine in salt reacts negatively with silver, causing a green discoloration.
• Salt doesn’t just enhance the other flavors of food, it has an actual chemical function in the cooking of various foods, making it essential to certain processes such as the making of bread, where it can’t be eliminated from recipes requiring yeast.
• If, when making vinaigrettes, salt is whisked into vinegar before the oil is added, the mixture will emulsify more easily.
• There are excellent quality low sodium soy sauces on the market for people who are salt sensitive or on salt-restricted diets.
• When cooking soups, stews, or any long-cooking recipe in which the evaporation process concentrates the salt flavor, add salt sparingly at the beginning of the cooking and adjust it, if necessary, at the end.
• The same thing is logically true when making reductions: salt sparingly at first, then adjust the seasoning at the end of cooking.
• Leafy vegetables such as spinach, kale, and Swiss chard have a natural high water content, much of which evaporates upon cooking. Add your salt at the end of the cooking time.
• It is better to use a coarse grain salt such as kosher salt to salad greens as fine-grained salt causes greens to wilt more quickly.
• Lemon and lime juice sharpen the flavor of salt, so be careful when adding salt to any recipes that uses such citrus juices.

So which salt should you use?

For myself, I have on hand three kinds of coarse specialty sea salts for finishing certain dishes (two were gifts!), regular table salt for baking and salting pasta water, and Morton’s kosher salt in a salt caddy beside my stove for just about everything else, as I like the flaky texture and the control of sprinkling it by hand.






















A Favorite Recipe Featuring Salt
I learned to make this thirst-quenching yogurt drink years ago when I lived in Abu Dhabi. Subsequent trips to India, where it is enormously popular during hot weather, taught me countless variations.

Salt Lassi

1 cup plain yogurt
1/2 cup water or carbonated soda water
1/4 teaspoon salt, or to taste
Mint for garnish

Place all ingredients in the blender. Process until smooth. Serve over ice or in a chilled glass.

Variations
This is an extremely flexible recipe. Add any of the following to suit your taste:

3/4 to 1 teaspoon ground, dry-roasted cumin seeds (very popular in India)
3/4 to 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground cardamom seeds
1 teaspoon ground dried mint
1 serrano chile, with or without seeds
A sprig or two of fresh cilantro
More yogurt, if a thicker texture is desired


I am submitting this article and recipe to Weekend Herb Blog, established the Kalyn Denny of Kalyn's Kitchen (http://kalynskitchen.blogspot.com) and hosted this week by Kel from Green Olive Tree (http://greenolivetree.blogspot.com).

Sumac

Sumac: A Culinary Treat



Thirty odd years ago when I first moved to Abu Dhabi, I didn’t know what they were, but I knew I liked them. That was my first reaction to the tangy, lemony red sprinkles on my salad which I couldn’t identify. A little investigation showed them to be ground sumac berries, which are commonly used throughout the Near and Middle East to impart a haunting astringency to kebabs, salads, rice, yogurt, spice blends, and more. Since that time, I have added them to everything from soup to dessert.

The spelling may vary (summaq, sumach, sumak, summak, sommacco, somagh, zumaque, sammak—all deriving from the Semitic root SMQ, which denotes something dark red), but the lively tart flavor sumac gives, sings loudly in any cuisine where it is used. Although not particularly fragrant or aromatic, the flavor the berries impart serves as one of several souring agents common throughout the Near and Middle East; others are pomegranate, tamarind, dried black lemons, and hibiscus flowers.

Culinary sumac (Rhus coriaria L.) belongs to the Rhus genus and is related to the Anacardiaceae family, to which mangoes, cashews, and poison oak also belong. Coriaria refers to the Latin word for leather, corium, reflecting the use of the leaves and bark in the tanning process. The spice, which is considered an essential ingredient in Arab cooking, comes from the dark red berries of a bush that grows wild throughout the Mediterranean. Ripened on the tree and dried in the sun, the berries are usually sold in ground form, whose color may vary from light red to a deep crimson to a dark purple.

Warning: People with a sensitivity or allergy to mangoes or cashews, should also approach culinary sumac with caution. Never use white sumac berries, which are poisonous.
Medicinal Uses
Often used to help with digestive and bowel problems, sumac is said to be diuretic. As an appetite stimulus, the seeds are sometimes eaten before a meal.

Early Native Americans and North American settlers used other varieties of sumac for a wide variety of ailments. All parts of the plant were used, roots, berries, bark, and leaves to treat conditions ranging from fevers, colds, urinary disorders, hemorrhoids, warts, fever blisters, conjunctivitis, and even diabetes. It appears in various guises in folk medicine from poultices to stop bleeding to decoctions used as a treatment for venereal diseases. Apparently, the leaves were smoked in the Appalachians to relieve the symptoms of asthma.

Other Uses and a Little History
As a dye, the leaves have been used to produce brown, the roots for yellow, the berries for grays, the barks for reds, and the seeds for blacks, though sources differ as to what color is produced by which part. As mentioned before, the plant was also used for tanning. Some Native Americans split the bark for use in basket making. An oil, extracted from the seeds, has a tallow-like consistency useful for candle making. And the powdered bark can also be made into an antiseptic skin salve.

Dioscorides, the Greek physician and botanist who lived in the first century AD and who served as physician for Nero’s armies, mentioned sumac’s diuretic and antiflatulent properties in his five-volume De Materia Medica, the precursor to all modern pharmacopeias. As a souring agent used like lemon juice or vinegar, the ancient Romans used the sumac berries from the trees that are common all over Sicily and southern Italy and it is still called “the vinegar tree” in parts of North America. One intriguing reference said that the ancient Romans even used it as form of birth control, though it didn’t explain how.

In North America if was used historically as a dried food in winter and for various medicinal cures. And because the plant was used to foretell the weather and the changing of the seasons, some Native American tribes considered it sacred.

Phytochemicals
Research shows that phytochemicals found in Rhus coriaria (ellagic acid, gallic acid, quercetin, tannic acid and others) have antibacterial, antidiarrheic, antidysenteric, antiseptic, antioxidant, and antiulcer properties. The active constituents in sumac are being studied as a possible treatment for TB, diabetes, and some cancer.
Culinary Uses
Sumac is used in cooking in various ways. Often it is simply provided as a condiment to be sprinkled on food at the table. In Turkey and Iran sumac is often put on the table in shakers or bowls, especially in kebab houses, to be added to meats and rice much as salt and pepper are used in the West. In other Arab countries, particularly in the Levant, sumac finds its way to the table mixed with sesame seeds, salt, and thyme or hyssop in the popular spice mix called za’atar. In Egypt it sometimes appears in another spice mix called dukkah (spelling varies).

In addition to being used as a condiment, it is also commonly rubbed on meats, chicken, or fish, added to marinades, and used to punch up the acidity in yogurt sauces or vinaigrettes. I particularly like it with eggs and in beet salads. And because it is pretty, it is used as a decorative garnish, much like paprika, on dishes such as hummus and other dips.

In some areas where it is grown, a refreshing drink similar to lemonade or hibiscus tea is made by adding clumps of freshly picked ripe berries to cold water. The berries are soaked for several hours, strained, and the remaining liquid is sweetened and served chilled.
Yet another use, perhaps less well known, is as a liquid, or souring juice, made from the soaked berries, strained and added to various dishes mainly at the end of the cooking time. One dish I learned to prepare from a Lebanese friend was a potato dish where ground sumac was soaked in hot water with a clove of crushed garlic and then added to cooked potatoes and onions which have been sautéed in olive oil. The water is absorbed by the vegetables whose looks are helped by the addition of color and whose taste is enlivened by the tartness of the sumac. A sprinkle of parsley or cilantro is my own addition to finish off the dish.

Potatoes with Sumac
(Recipe by Victoria Challancin)

2 tablespoons ground sumac
1/2 cup boiling water
1 to 2 garlic cloves, peeled and minced or pressed
1 pound of baby potatoes cut in half
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion, diced
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 tablespoons chopped parsley or cilantro

Place sumac in a small bowl. Add the boiling water and garlic. Set aside while potatoes are being prepared.

Cook potatoes in ample salted water. Cooking time will depend on the size of the potatoes. Drain well. Return to pot and cook, shaking often, for 2 minutes over medium heat to dry out the potatoes. Heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in a skillet or sauté pan. Add onions and cook, stirring frequently until soft, approximately 5 minutes. Add potatoes and continue to cook until potatoes are soft and browned, about 5 to 7 minutes more. Remove from the heat and pour the sumac liquid over the potatoes. Allow the potatoes to macerate for 5 minutes to absorb the liquid. Season with salt and pepper and sprinkle with chopped parsley or cilantro before serving.

Variations: If a less pronounced garlic flavor is preferred, sauté the garlic with the onion. The sumac liquid can be strained or not before being added to the potatoes, depending on personal preference.

We prepared the following recipes in last week’s International Cooking Class for Mexican cooks:





Middle Eastern Minced Chicken Kebabs
(Recipe by Victoria Challancin)
Serves approximately 8.

Note: this is traditionally made with minced lamb and grilled over charcoal. It could be made into cocktail-size meatballs as well. Here I am using ground chicken thighs and legs. Serve in pita bread, over a rice pilaf, or even over a green salad with the yogurt sauce and pickled onions.

2 pounds ground chicken breasts or thighs
1 large onion, finely chopped
4 to 6 large garlic cloves, peeled and finely chopped
1 red or yellow bell pepper, finely diced
1 serrano chile, deseeded and finely chopped
1 cup cilantro leaves, chopped (or parsley)
2 teaspoons cumin powder
2 teaspoons ground coriander seeds
2 teaspoons ground sumac
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Sea salt to taste
Juice of one lime, or to taste
2 to 3 tablespoons oil

Mix all the ingredients except the oil together in a large bowl. Refrigerate for 30 minutes to 1 hour before using.

Form sausage-shaped kebabs with the chicken mixture.

Put a heavy skillet over medium high heat. Coat the bottom with oil. Once hot, add kebabs, cooking in batches so as not to overcrowd the pan. Cook for 4 to 5 minutes, turn, and cook until done. Continue with remaining kebabs.

Yogurt Sauce
(Recipe by Victoria Challancin)Note: Greek yogurt, which is usually thicker, works well in this sauce.

1 1/2 cups plain yogurt
Juice of 1 lemon, or to taste
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 serrano chile, finely minced
3 plum tomatoes, seeded and diced
2 to 3 tablespoons fresh cilantro or parsley
Salt to taste

Whisk yogurt with lemon juice until smooth. Add all the remaining ingredients, and mix in well with a spoon. Adjust seasoning according to taste. Place in a serving bowl and sprinkle with extra chopped cilantro or parsley if desired.




Marinated Onions
(Recipe by Victoria Challancin)

1 red onion, sliced thinly lengthwise
Juice of one lime or equivalent amount of white vinegar
Salt
2 tablespoons cilantro, parsley, or mint
2 teaspoons ground sumac

Place onion, lime juice, and salt in a bowl. Allow onions to macerate for at least 20 minutes. Drain and toss with chopped cilantro. Sprinkle with sumac before serving.