'Antojitos: Festive and Flavorful Mexican Small Plates'
by Barbara Sibley and Margaritte Malfy with Mary Goodbody
Photography by Lucy Schaeffer Ten Speed Press -- 2009 Buy it on Amazon
Antojitos, as Barbara Sibley and Margaritte Malfy explain in their book of the same name, are small bites sometimes eaten as appetizers in Mexican cuisine and sometime just downed as a street snack to satisfy between-meals hunger pangs.
The owners of New York City's La Palapa have written a book that covers all manner of these spicy snacks -- from empanadas and tacos to ceviches and mole. Along the way, they give brief stories about the dishes as well as menus perfect for any fiesta, and colorful pages filled with images of Loteria cards and stock Mexican art that add a whimsical touch to the cookbook.
See what we tested and whether it's worth buying after the jump.
Tomatillos and hot peppers. Photo: Brent Ridge, Beekman 1802.
Brent Ridge and Josh Kilmer-Purcell are the farmers and innovators behind Beekman 1802, a 200-year-old estate and farm in upstate New York. We'll be running recipes, photos and tales from the farm as their crops come into season.
Earlier this summer, when a friend gave us a few small tomatillo plants, we weren't really that interested in them. Nevertheless, we found a spot in the heirloom garden and pushed them into the dirt.
Three short months later, as we watched every blight-bitten tomato turn brown and drop from the vine, we were thrilled to have those tomatillo plants.
Oddities in the garden, we've been asked more than once what they were. One visitor even exclaimed, "I didn't know you could eat Japanese Lanterns!"
I didn't know what to do with tomatillos until I moved to New York City and learned about traditional, homemade Mexican food from many of the cooks I met working in restaurants. They came from towns like Puebla and Oaxaca and they all knew the secret to grinding nuts and spices for the perfect mole and how to roast chilies and other ingredients for sensational salsas -- things I had never tasted in the Mexican restaurants I had visited in the past.
I remember the first time I bought tomatillos, peeling back the husk to reveal a green orb covered with a slight tacky film that made my fingers stick together. Unfortunately, I bit right into the fruit that looks like an unripe tomato! I was disappointed with the taste -- like a cross between celery and cucumber with a sour tang of uncooked rhubarb.
See how Jennifer mastered the tomatillo and get her Salsa Verde recipe after the jump.
Chefs in some smaller upscale bistros double as waiters, creating an intimate, dinner party-like ambiance. Only the host never sits down to eat.
Animal rights activists are using hidden cameras to document slaughterhouse abuses, like sick cows being dragged with forklifts. Still hungry for that sloppy Joe?
An ode to pasties and other savory portable pies. Yum.
Frank Bruni continues his coast-to-coast tour of his favorite new restaurants: Fearing's in Dallas, Michael's Genuine Food & Drink in Miami, and Cochon in New Orleans.
I had a need for green tomatoes for the stunningly marvelous idea of recreating an Austrian dessert dish - Griseknödel mit Grünen Paradeisern (Semolina Dumplings with Green Tomato Compôte). Of course I didn't realise that green tomatoes are next to bloody impossible to find in the UK.
Basically you can't get them... anywhere. Until that is my dear pal Johanna suggested the Mexican restaurant in central London. What may turn out to be a slightly misguided idea I actually brought a pack of genuine, imported La Costeña Tomatillos. Mestizo charged me twenty quid (US$38). Excessive? Expensive? Crazy? Yep all of those!
The tin contains 6lb 4oz of imported Mexican Tomatillos. Not even certain they are the quite what I need but I am about to open them for the minuscule 6oz I need.
So people I need some ideas on how to use the rest up. I need links to recipes people!
Tomatillos, despite their name, are not
actually tomatoes, though they are members of the tomato family. They are members of the nightshade family and grow all
over the western hemisphere, thriving in the southern United States and Mexico. The plant was originally domesticated by the Aztecs, well over 2,000 years ago,
and was brought back to Europe by explorers and settlers, where it continues to flourish in Mediterranean climates.
Tomatillos are typically one to two inches in diameter and are green in color. They have a thin, papery
shell on them, called the husk, that the fruit actually grows into as it matures. By the time the fruit is ripe, it may
have split the husk open, though it is sometimes held in place by a slightly sticky coating. Peel back the husk before
using a tomatillo and wash the fruit gently in soap and water to remove any unwanted residue. When selecting a
tomatillo in the market, look for one that has a husk in good condition, rather than one that is shriveled. A fruit
that is small, but heavy for its size is likely to be sweeter than a larger one.