Perfect Pumpkin Bread

Alliteration!

One of my favorite things, after alliteration (see what I did there?) is pumpkin bread. Back in the states, my go-to recipe was the Downeast Maine Pumpkin Bread by Laurie Bennett. Here in Paraguay, however, the shelves are not stocked with cans of pumpkin puree, so I had to get inventive. Well, I just had to make my own pumpkin puree, which sounds daunting, but is actually quite easy. It just takes time. Making your own puree is kind of a no-brainer, but if you're doing it for the first time, it helps to have a good step-by-step guide with photos. My favorite is over at The Pioneer Woman Cooks, one of my favorite blogs. I've only seen Ree Drummond's Food Network show once, but I read her blog all the time. Great recipes. I also relate to her life story as I, too, have been whisked away to the country and have a much closer relationship with cattle than I'd ever imagined. But I digress.

Having made my own pumpkin puree, I adapted the Downeast Maine Pumpkin Bread recipe to suit the type of baking and eating that is generally preferred in my current household. Turned out great!

Pumpkin Bread/Torta de Calabaza:

2 cups homemade pumpkin puree
4 eggs
1 cup vegetable oil
2/3 cup water
3 cups sugar
4 cups self-rising flour
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves

Beat the pumpkin puree, eggs, sugar, vegetable oil, and water together in a very large bowl. In a separate, medium-sized bowl, mix together the flour with the spices. Slowly beat this mixture into the pumpkin mixture until thoroughly combined. Add into greased bread/cake pans (about three bread pans) and place in the oven at 350F/175C for about 45 minutes. When the knife/toothpick comes out clean, it's done!

If you want to make this a smaller recipe, it's pretty easy to cut in half.

Enjoy!

P.S. Kivevé is a traditional Paraguayan dish consisting largely of mashed pumpkin. Leftover Kivevé makes a great substitute for regular old pumpkin puree, and gives the bread more Paraguayan flair. If you do an online search for Kivevé you'll see a recipe that includes onions, which would not be yummy in a sweet bread. The version of Kivevé made in my household does not include any onions, oil, milk, or corn flour. It simply includes mashed pumpkins, sugar, salt, a little white flour, and fresh Paraguayan cheese. When using it to make my pumpkin bread, I simply remove the cheese, and voila! An excellent version of pumpkin puree to use in my pumpkin bread recipe. I will post an actual recipe for Kivevé (sans onions) later on.

Pumpkin bread made with leftover Kivevé.

Fiesta de San Juan: Contemplations on History & Culture

Aaaah, traditions. Much like language, religious beliefs, social conventions, and other defining aspects of human cultures, their origins can be hazy. Many of the celebrations we observe today are the result of hundreds of years of cultural and religious confluence, as evidenced by the many similarities among traditions across countries in various parts of the world. Christmas, Easter, and Halloween are excellent examples of early Christianity's success at adapting existing pagan celebrations to their religious calender, giving age-old traditions new meaning. Nowadays, most folks don't give a second thought to egg hunts and chocolate rabbits on the anniversary of Jesus Christ's resurrection. But clearly, there are several very distinct historical influences at play in our modern-day traditions.

Moving to Paraguay has introduced me to another of these fascinating holidays, one which is little known in the U.S. but widely celebrated in Europe and Latin America: St. John's Eve. It is the eve of St. John's Day - that is the day St. John the Baptist is supposed to have been born (June 24). Now, when the holiday was introduced to me here in Paraguay, I did not make this connection to St. John the Baptist. Further research had to be done. I was simply told it was the Fiesta de San Juan, which takes place in June, and includes traditional foods and games. After having spent a lovely time with my boyfriend's family partaking in said traditions, I became curious. What's the history behind this beloved holiday?

When I initiated my Google search, I figured I was going to learn about something oh-so-Paraguayan. Quite the opposite. While each country has taken and made of this holiday it's own, it is popular in many countries, particularly Northern Europe. If you've got the gist of my post thus far, it probably won't surprise you that this holiday has pagan roots. Mid-June, of course, is Midsummer. Well, in the Northern Hemisphere, at least. Here, it would be Midwinter. Either way, it is a significant time of year. In the northern latitudes, the Summer Solstice marks the longest day and shortest night of the year - a major turning point for the sun which then begins its long descent into winter. This was important for our European ancestors.

Many Midsummer and St. John's Day celebrations take place sometime around the Summer Solstice, usually between June 21-25. Here in Paraguay the dates are loose, too. Sometime in June, schools, towns, neighborhoods and families organize events as best suits them. While each country has a specific set of unique cultural traditions, one of the common themes among St. John's Eve celebrations worldwide is fire. In Europe, bonfires are set. Here in Paraguay, a ball is set on fire and kicked about the neighborhood. Another traditional activity is walking on hot coals. In many towns and neighborhoods the ball-on-fire has been restricted, for obvious reasons. Other fun activities include include trying to break open a clay jar piñata full of treats with a pole while blindfolded and competing with others to climb a greased post with some type of reward at the top. There are a great many other traditions (one of the other common themes seems to be weddings) and plenty of traditional food, which I had the opportunity to enjoy just recently (our Fiesta de San Juan was particularly late this year). And apart from the old traditions, there are always good, fun, family-friendly games for all to enjoy.

One interesting thing to note about these Paraguayan traditions, is that they all have Guaraní names. Guaraní is an indigenous language, estimated to be spoken by more than 80% of Paraguayans, and one of Paraguay's two official languages alongside Spanish. Many Paraguayan customs and foods are the result of a fusion of indigenous and European (mainly Spanish) cultures. It's hard to know which had more influence on the ball-on-fire tradition, though.  More research is needed.

Cooking chipa asador over open coals. A simple dough of corn four, manioc (cassava/yuca) starch with cheese and fat.

Cinnamon: The Great Uniter

Finding a solid recipe is always a joy. Solid, in my book, equals easy, fast, adaptable, and, of course, delicious. Enter cinnamon cake, or torta de canela, as it would be called in Spanish. I found the original recipe at Cocina facilisimo.com, a site that compiles recipes from various blogs. At the time, I was very excited to find a recipe that was in Spanish, used metric measurements (good luck with cups and teaspoons outside the U.S.) and appealed to both my and my Paraguayan family's taste buds. Let's talk about the power of cinnamon.

Cinnamon has a long and storied history, and if we were comparing spices like they were superheros, cinnamon would probably have a Superman-level ranking. Originally prized for its aroma (and magical powers, maybe?), cinnamon has since become a principal spice in both sweet and savory foods around the world. Cinnamon is the inner bark of the cinnamomun trees, and curls up when it dries. While most cinnamon comes from Sri Lanka, other countries like China, India, and Vietnam contribute to its production. As if it's aroma and flavor weren't enough, cinnamon is used in traditional medicine and some research has been done to investigate its supposed healing abilities with regard to diabetes and other illnesses.

What's clear is that cinnamon is liked by a lot of people. As an expat, it's always interesting to see what kinds of flavors reign in your new country. I mentioned peanuts in my last post and how differently they are utilized here vs in the U.S. Some of my favorite herbs, like basil and rosemary, are lacking in the Paraguayan kitchen, while oregano is almost overused. It's also really important to understand the role anise plays in Paraguayan cuisine. The prevalence of anise is quite baffling to those of us who rarely use it, but I have grown quite fond of the spice. In Paraguay, it appears in bread as well as traditional foods like chipa and m'beju. It's also used as a tea (I drink anise tea, like, 2-3 times a day. Too much?) and added to mate for both it's flavor and as an aide to digestion. (Side note, did you know yerba mate is part of the holly family? Well, now you do.)

Anyway, back to the cake. Or bread. It's a cross-cultural crowd-pleaser and that's a win in my book. Also, my dog Pepper likes to watch while I bake it. And I like having her company. I bake when I'm happy-sad, when I've reached that emotional midpoint and I want to shove something sweet into my face and wash it down with a glass of milk. There's something nostalgic about that. The cinnamon cakebread is mild in flavor but makes you warm and happy for a few minutes. And that's what a good cakebread is all about, right?

Pepper watching me bake. In her usual crossed-pawed position.

Here's my take on the recipe (the original is buried somewhere on the Cocina facilisimo website, sorry):

120g vegetable oil
2 teaspoon of vanilla extract
300g white sugar
2 eggs
300g self-rising flour
1 teaspoon cinnamon
160ml milk

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees Celsius. In a large bowl, beat the oil, vanilla, sugar and egg together. In a separate, smaller bowl, mix the flour and cinnamon together. Slowly add the flour mixture to the oil mixture, alternating with the milk, until all the ingredients are thoroughly mixed. Pour into a greased cake pan and stick in the oven for 30 minutes. When the knife comes out clean, it's done. Try to wait for it to cool down, but end up cutting out a big piece while it's still hot and enjoy with a glass of cold milk.

Cinnamon cakebread. Fresh out of the oven and half eaten already.

Pumpkins, Peanuts, and Corn - Oh My!

I posted a little while ago about how memories and a sense of familiarity can be triggered in a completely exotic and foreign land. Almost as if there are global currents of smells and feelings that touch you no matter where you are. Well, in the case of food, there is a very obvious current that takes it around and that's us. As in, people. Human beings. For example, did you know that sugar cane is native to South Asia, not -- as many believe -- the Americas, where it is grown in abundance? Did you know that oranges are actually a hybrid fruit? Spend some time looking up your favorite fruits and vegetables on Wikipedia. You may be very surprised by some of their origin stories.

It always blows my mind when I remember that tomatoes, potatoes and cacao are New World crops and did not make their way to Europe until after the Spanish colonization of the Americas. How iconic is the potato in Ireland? Think about what Italian cuisine has done with the tomato. Can you imagine a more luxurious bar of chocolate than those manufactured by the Swiss? Europe took a hold of these news fruits (and tubers) from the New World and made them their own. Added their cultural touch and created dishes and treats we can't imagine living without today. It's very interesting the way the same foods are utilized by different cultures.

And that leads me to pumpkins, peanuts and corn. All very notably New World crops. Most surprising to me, though, is the peanut. Yes, the peanut. Can you imagine anything more American? I mean, except apple pie? If you say baseball, I will remind you that peanuts are a staple snack at baseball games. What about peanut butter and PB&J sandwiches? So, where do you suppose the peanut originates? Why, in Paraguay, of course! And yet Paraguayans look at you weird when you extoll the virtues of peanut butter. So what's the deal? This is the peanut's home turf and people aren't consuming peanut butter by the spoonful?

However it made it's way to the U.S., the peanut was initially used as a feed crop for livestock and eventually exploded onto the scene when George Washington Carver (you should look him up; he's really interesting) developed over a hundred recipes and uses for the peanut, but I'm going to go ahead and say peanut butter is the best one. Here in Paraguay, the peanut is consumed most often in two ways: 1.) as a garnish (crushed and toasted), and 2.) mixed with miel negra (think a sweeter, less viscous molasses) to form a sweet treat known as dulce de maní. As a garnish, peanuts are often used at breakfast time, sprinkled into cocido (a traditional drink made from yerba mate and sugar). Dulce de maní is somewhat like peanut brittle, but with a much softer texture and honey-like flavor.

As a non-allergic American, I love peanuts in a fierce way. I was very intrigued by the idea of having a big container of crushed, toasted peanuts around the house. I wanted to get a little more creative than just tossing it in my cocido. I decided it would go great in my mom's peanut butter chicken recipe, in peanut butter cookies and also mixed with honey and cinnamon as a fun substitute for maple syrup. Oh, and it also goes great in oatmeal (with cinnamon and sugar, of course).

Homemade pancakes with a honey, cinnamon, crushed/toasted peanut topping.

I don't have too much to say on the topic of Paraguayan pumpkins except that they are much more like giant squashes (yes, pumpkins are a type of squash) than the round orange fellas that we give faces to on Halloween. Despite the difference in appearance, the smell is the same. The seeds are smaller and darker, but make for a delicious snack just the same (the idea of toasting and snacking on pumpkin seeds was particularly strange to my new Paraguayan family). Since I couldn't find any cans of pumpkin puree in the Paraguayan supermarkets, I had to make some myself, which is easy, but time-consuming. Gut it, cut it up, stick it in the oven, puree it. Then it goes into my favorite recipe for pumpkin bread, which everyone loves.

Lastly, corn. The odd one out. Just kidding. Peanuts are kind of the odd one out here. Pumpkins (squash) likely originate in North America, and corn (maize) in Mesoamerica. Beans, corn, and squash make up a powerful and wholesome trio called the Three Sisters, once cultivated by indigenous North Americans. Contrary to the peanut story, Americans tend to be purists about corn. We like sweet, mature corn -- crunchy and juicy-- and we tend to like it on the cob, or in a heap on our plate next to other food items. In Paraguay, corn is a bit more versatile. In the first place, they prefer something they call choclo, which is younger corn, rendering it softer and chewier. They put it in salads, on pizza (for shame!) and in one of their most beloved traditional dishes, chipa guazú, a type of moist cornbread which typically includes choclo, onion, cheese, milk, and eggs.

Gringaguaya fusion: Asado (grilled meat) with biscuits and rice with green pepper and choclo.

I absolutely love learning the histories and uses of different foods and coming up with what I call gringaguaya fusion plates. I can't wait to discover the next interesting combination!