Hay Nacatamales

Nacatamales are an almost religious culinary tradition in Nicaragua, a gigantic overstuffed tamale with a standard list of ingredients uniform throughout the country. Nacatamales are prepared fresh in locals' homes; in every pueblo there are several infamous residents who display the sign Hay Nacatamales, meaning they are available for sale on Saturday and Sunday.

The Nicaraguan version of the tamale, wrapped and cooked in a banana leaf rather than a corn husk, is large, undeniably a meal in itself. The key ingredient is either chicken or pork, accompanied by rice, potatoes, tomatoes, an olive or raisin, and a leaf of yerba buena. This is the tried and true recipe, delicious, and available for only $1 anywhere you go. Why mess with a good thing? the only reason I attempted my own was the vegetarian factor. 

Based on hints from neighbors and friends, as well as gringo guidance from this online recipe, i set out to make my own vegetarian nacatamale.

First up, and arguably the most important ingredient: masa. Traditional nacatamale masa is made with lard, the ultimate cooking fat. When I asked around about vegetarian substitutions, I was met with chortles, smirks, and a couple of suggestions. Since I was making a large batch, I went with what I had the most of, sunflower oil. 

Using a pre-packaged masa, I added a cup of oil and mixed until it was too thick to stir. Following a tip from an authentic nacatamale recipe, I squeezed a sour orange into the dough, and then a flavorful veggie-based broth and worked it in with my hands.

The masa is then left to sit for at least 30 minutes. Time to prepare my tasty fillings!

I flavored up a batch of red beans and potatoes,

and a soy meat with summer squash medley. These would be the savory protein-rich centerpieces of my tamales.

Assembly!

Wrapping the masa and filling into a banana leaf was the most fun and most challenging part. I am proud to announce that I myself went out on the farm to harvest nice long smooth leaves with few tears. In order to make the leaf pliable, I warmed each one over a gas burner. The leaves must bend and fold over to hold the tamale inside, and I found this method extremely effective.

A small circle of masa is patted out in the center of a leaf, and I learned after my first batch, a dollop of homemade hot sauce keeps the filling from drying out.

Upon this I heaped shredded cheese, a spoonful of either the bean or soy mixture, and a sprinkle of cilantro leaf. With a few, I also added cooked rice. Later, as I recounted this process to some veteran nacatamale chefs, raucous laughter erupted at the mention of the cilantro. Apparently I was breaking all kinds of culinary taboos.

Sorry, don't have any action shots. The wrapping process took a little practice, eventually I got it. My little banana packages came out cute, no?

These guys were all tossed into a pot which I first layered with bunched up banana leaves in the traditional method for steaming. Being somewhat of a modern chica, however, I did cook with my gas stove rather than over open fire.
Unlike the wood fire fueled kitchens of most Nicaraguans, in which a pot of nacatamales takes up to 6 hours to cook, mine were ready to unwrap and enjoy in about one hour.

Not too shabby!

Die hard fans of the original nacatamale may argue that my masa/veggie creation is only that, an inauthentic copycat of a cultural classic. at worst, I could be accused of culinary sacrilege.

Yet, despite altering the sacred recipe, tasters from the veggie as well as the meat-eating contigency report success!

Platanos & Homemade Salsa

A close relative to bananas, though larger, starchier, and generally less sweet, plantains are a staple of Nicaraguan cuisine. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner platanos are served in one form or another. If you don't like them at first, you will!
Most farms and quintas grow at least a few plantain trees, their gigantic green leaves and spectacular flowers making sure you don't forget this is the tropics. Plantain and banana trees flourish during our rainy season, and continue to produce fruit throughout the dry times. Every year new trees are planted amongst our coffee bushes to provide shade, guaranteeing me a constant supply of plantains in the kitchen.
Platanos require cooking in order to be palatable, and their form and flavor vary greatly depending on when and how they are cooked. Green unripe platanos are frequently fried up as a side dish, sliced in rounds or in the case of tajadas, in long thin strips. In the latter, plantains serve kind of as nachos, topped with meat or cheese or anything you want. As I inherited a local mandoline slicer over a year ago and have never used it, I decided it was time:

Tajada Time!

Slicing plantains so thin was time-consuming, not to mention a bit dangerous; bare hands near a wide blade required careful attention. I wish I had taken a picture of the uncooked strips to demonstrate how delicate they were.

Here I am frying them up in a generous pool of sunflower oil.

The ideal tajada is thin and crispy like a potato chip. After a few batches, I got the hang of it!

All the hard work paid off when the tajadas were served! We topped them with refried beans, soy "meat," shredded cabbage, and my new homemade hot sauce--see below for recipe. On the side I served cooked chayote squash.

I am always experimenting with new salsa recipes, this one is a favorite. and very easy! The recipe I found calls for jalapeños, for which I substituted our local chile pepper, congo. Congos are tiny so I used a whole handful--use your own discretion when choosing spiciness level. Hot peppers, along with several tomatoes and a few cloves of garlic are tossed with olive oil and then broiled.Once the tomatoes are blackened, remove from oven and cool. Peel off tomato skins, then blend it all up. Add cilantro, salt, and a squeeze of fresh lemon. that's it: roasty, flavorful, spicy sauce!

¡Buen provecho!

La Purísima

Last week I enjoyed yet another new cultural experience: a week long celebration of the Virgin Mary, La Purísima (The Most Pure). A uniquely Nica tradition, and rooted in catholic ideology, La Purísima ironically has a funky, halloween-like energy.
During the days leading up to the Immaculate Conception, Nicas set out statues of the Virgin, creatively decorated and lit up near the front of their homes.

Each evening, devotees of the Virgin crowd into neighbors and strangers' front rooms to admire and sing to the colorfully displayed icons.

After the requisite singing, this is where things get fun: the hosts pass out brindi: homemade goodies, snacks, small toys and prizes, free stuff! I enjoyed traditional foods such as a baked squash with honey, raw sugar cane, and a gingery beverage that I plan on concocting myself.
The final night of the celebration is La Gritería, or The Shouting (are you feeling the halloween vibe now?)
At precisely 6pm all over Nicaragua, fireworks are ignited and people flood the street to shout:
Quién causa tanta alegría?
La Concepción de María!

What is the cause of our happiness?
Mary's Conception!

The joyful noise is to thank Mary for the miracles she performs. A deluge of people, young and old, rich and poor, then parade through town to visit the literally HUNDREDS of altars.

Doors remain open as hordes of people pour in and out, leaving with sacks full of cookies, chips, even house ware items such as laundry soap and matches.

La Purísima is an opportunity for more affluent families to share their wealth and hospitality with others. In many homes, canvas tote bags and satchels were handed out to be filled with brindi!More fireworks and shouting occur at midnight and the following morning at 6am, after which a sacred silence is observed. This is a very holy day in the Catholic church, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception.

Visiting homes, making new friends, and just cruising the streets at night amongst a boisterous crowd made the event for me. Not to mention coming home with all my brindi!

flowers for the dead

Día de los Muertos

November 2nd is a day for honoring loved ones, friends and family, who have passed on. It is celebrated differently in many regions around the world, from Latin American to Africa; here is a glimpse of this special day in Nicaragua.

Here, flowers rule the holiday.

The front of the cemetery becomes an impromptu florist market.

Visitors purchase flower bouquets and bundles outside the cemetery gates, many prepared with vases, buckets of water, and ribbons.

It is a day for reconnecting with old friends, and remembering.