Latin American

When families in Mexico give up meat—either for Lent or for other reasons—they turn to soups like this one. You might have trouble finding fresh favas, though Latin markets frequently stock them, especially in spring, and I’ve even seen them at supermarkets in recent years. Their wonderful flavor has no exact match, but fresh peas are a good substitute. The best chile for this dish is the mildly hot dried chile negro; it’s best when toasted, which is an easy enough process: put the chiles in a dry, ungreased skillet over medium heat and cook, turning as each side browns, until browned and fragrant, 5 to 10 minutes.

Classically used for Cochinita Pibil (page 351), this gorgeous, bright red paste can be smeared on any meat you’re about to roast or grill. Its color belies its flavor, which is not at all hot (though you can throw a chile in there if you like). Annatto—or achiote—is something you’ve probably encountered unknowingly, since it colors processed cheeses, margarine, and lipstick. The triangular, brick-colored seeds of the annatto tree have been especially important in the Yucatán peninsula and South and Central America for centuries; make sure the seeds you buy are bright red, smell earthy or musky, and taste slightly peppery. Whole seeds keep for a year or more in a tightly covered container.

A tiny little side condiment served with grilled chicken or fish that can make any meal sing. It’s fine without any chile at all, but I like a touch. This is a very fragile dish; make it at the last minute and serve it all at once. It will go fast, believe me.

Chimichurri should be quite strong; you can cut back on the garlic and/or the red pepper, but it won’t be the same. Try it at least once at full strength; you’ll be surprised by how much the freshness of the parsley keeps everything in perspective, especially when served with meat, which it usually is.

The small “finger” bananas are perfect for this, because they’re denser-fleshed than regular bananas; you can find them at many supermarkets and almost all Asian and Latin markets. Regular bananas work well too, of course, but they should not be too ripe.

The classic custard of Spain, widely made throughout Latin America, is like crème brûlée, but upside down and lighter. Like any custard, it must not be overcooked. The center must be quite jiggly when you remove it from the oven—for beginners, this is a leap of faith, but it’s the only way to keep the custard smooth.

In the world of fresh pastry, few things are quicker than churros, the crisp, crullerlike strips of fried dough that are still popular in Spain, where they originated, but perhaps even more so in Mexico. In fact, there are few breakfast or last-minute late-night snacks that can match a batch of churros. Churros served at restaurants can be awful because they’re fried in stale oil and made in advance. But make them fresh once, for breakfast or dessert (ideally, you’ll serve them with Chocolate Español, page 665, or Mexican Hot Chocolate, page 664) and you will have a reliable addition to your repertoire.

In their simplest form, quesadillas are warm corn tortillas encasing spicy melted cheese, but the basic construction simply begs to be built upon. See the variations and keep in mind that the possibilities are endless—take advantage of what you have in the refrigerator or garden. Fresh corn tortillas are best, but flour ones are acceptable. You may dry-sauté the quesadillas, with no oil, in a nonstick or well-seasoned cast-iron skillet.

These sweet fritters are a cross between doughnuts and potato pancakes. That may sound strange, but, like doughnuts or churros, they make a great break fast or snack food. Buñuelos are most often made from a combination of three roots. One is yucca (also known as cassava and, confusingly enough, tapioca and manioc); it has a tough brown skin, bright white flesh, and a tough core that should be cut out before cooking. The second is malanga (also called taro), which resembles a hairy yam but has a lovely, creamy interior, sometimes streaked with purple. Finally, there’s boniato, also known as batata or Cuban sweet potato. It’s in the same family as sweet potatoes and yams (and either can be substituted here). The reddish skin encases white flesh, which is dry and has a subtle sweetness. All three of these can be found at major good supermarkets and Latin groceries, right next to one another.

The original and superior version of nachos with cheese has the smoky spiciness of roasted chile and chorizo. While it can be served with tortilla chips, it is best scooped and wrapped into warm corn or flour tortillas. This makes a great simple lunch served with salad or soup.

This is an amazing finger food, best set up using a simple assembly line of two or even three people. (You can also roll all the taquitos ahead of time and fry them immediately before serving; if you do this, and have cooperative friends, it’s almost as easy to make forty or even eighty taquitos as it is to make twenty.) Best served immediately from the skillet, they can also be made ahead and reheated in the oven. Serve with sour cream, any salsa (pages 610–612), Guacamole (page 22), or a combination.

A street snack of Central America and the Caribbean, empanadas can really be filled with anything you have on hand. This recipe and its variations offer several of the traditional fillings. Masa harina can be found at most supermarkets and Latin grocery stores. It adds a nice crunch to the dough, but regular flour works well, too.

True Ceviche (page 21) “cooks” fish by marinating it in an acidic dressing. But there is a similar dish in which the fish is simmered in boiling water first; it’s used most frequently with seafood that is tough when raw, but it’s also used—at least in this country—as a form of reassurance. It’s a bit of a cheat, but so what? There is little difference between the texture or quality of fish that has been marinated in lime and that of fish that has been cooked quickly (which is why marinating in lime is perfectly acceptable in the first place). Like all ceviche, this is a great starter.

This delicious snack from Trinidad and Guyana is the perfect accompaniment to any cold cocktail, and if you think of it while you’re cooking chickpeas for another recipe, it’s incredibly easy. If you’re curious about Old World origins of New World foods, you’ll be interested to know that, in India, one of the many words for chickpeas is chana.

Fried peanuts will amaze your guests with their crunch and fresh, distinctive flavor. Add different kinds of nuts if you like, as long as they are “raw” to begin with (the industrial shelling process uses enough heat to cook the nuts, at least a little bit). The best raw peanuts are usually found in the fall (peanuts are an exception; the best season for other nuts is spring), when they are fresh and tender. Like any nuts, these are great with drinks, especially beer.

In Mexico, guacamole is traditionally made in a molcajete, a mortar made from volcanic rock. It’s a lovely tradition, but since you probably don’t have a molcajete, use a bowl and fork or a potato masher. The admittedly more complicated variation that follows is superior but not nearly as quick.

In any coastal region where you find limes, you’ll find ceviche, going by one name or another. In Mexico, it’s frequently made with a combination of scallops, shrimp, conch, and octopus (the last two usually precooked to the point of tenderness), and those are all good fish for the mix. If you can find spanking-fresh fillets of your local white fish, you can use that here too, although scallops alone are easy and fabulous. (They’re also the safest shellfish to eat raw, but if the whole thing makes you nervous, see Mock Ceviche, page 35.) If you happen to have a couple of different colors of bell peppers, mix them; it’ll make the dish really sparkle.