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01/23/13 - Jewish Daily Forward (blog) - Shabbat Dinner, Havana Style

Shabbat Dinner, Havana Style

By Jennifer Stempel

On a balmy afternoon in January of 1969, my mother and her family left
their sprawling farm in Cuba for the promise of a new life filled with
opportunity in the United States.

Like many other immigrant families, they worked hard to assimilate into
the culture of their new home country. My grandfather went to work at an
automobile factory, while my mother and her siblings attended school in an
unfamiliar language. With a picture-perfect house in a sunny southern
California suburb, they soon morphed into a seemingly typical American
family - but anyone invited over for dinner would quickly realize that
their Cuban traditions remained.

While her neighbors busied themselves by hosting cookouts on their
backyard barbecues, my grandmother spent the better part of her day
sweating over that night's offerings, which she made with the produce from
her small makeshift replica of the family's old farm that she built in the
backyard. Dinners featured classic Cuban dishes like starchy yucca
smothered in sauce, cumin-scented black beans to drape over white rice, a
fresh and crisp salad jeweled with plump slices of avocado, and aromatic
and savory meat dishes, which slow roasted in her tiny oven - the scent
wafting through the neighborhood like an unspoken invitation to come by
for dinner.

When I was little, I relished our weekly family dinners at my
grandparents' home. We would arrive before the meal and my grandmother
always reserved a special task for me in the kitchen.

One of my jobs was to pick the sour oranges from the tree that were needed
for the traditional Cuban mojo sauce, rich with citrus and garlic, which
is served alongside most meat dishes. Unlike other varieties of oranges,
sour oranges retain their pucker when ripe, making them ideal for
marinades and sauces, but almost unbearable to eat raw.

I remember taking great care to only select perfectly ripe pieces of
fruit. They couldn't be too green, as that might damage the branch,
preventing future growth, and they dare not be too soft, as that meant the
fruit had spoiled. The tell-tale sign of a ripe sour orange was the
unmistakably technicolor hue of the peel and the ease in which it snapped
from the branch. After I collected a few in my mini apron, I proudly
presented them to my grandmother, and together, we'd get to work on the
finishing touches of the meal.

As the family gathered hungrily around the beautifully adorned table
filled with platter upon platter of food, the mojo sauce would be
ceremoniously placed in its reserved space between the aromatic roasted
chicken and the rice and beans. Amid the cacophony of chewing mouths and
generous displays of appreciation, my grandmother would pass me a secret
smile, as we both knew the meal would not be complete without my addition.

When my grandmother passed away, she left with me her legacy in the
kitchen. These days, Shabbat dinner is hosted at my house, and while I
don't have a makeshift farm in my backyard, I do the best I can to honor
the Cuban culinary traditions passed on to me from the previous
generations. Chances are that if I'm serving aromatic roasted chicken,
there will be a dish of mojo sauce alongside it - and we may even welcome
some neighbors searching for the origin of the scents permeating the area.

Aromatic Cuban Roasted Chicken

One 4-5 pound whole chicken, giblets removed
3 sour oranges (or 2 navel oranges and 2 lemons)
5 cloves of garlic, minced and divided
2 Tablespoons fresh oregano, minced and divided
4 Tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 Tablespoon ground cumin
2 onions, sliced
salt and pepper to taste
1/2 cup chicken broth
Mojo sauce (recipe to follow)

1) In a large plastic bag, squeeze the juice of the sour oranges (or
oranges and lemons), add 3 minced cloves of garlic, 1 tablespoon of minced
oregano, 2 tablespoons olive oil, salt and pepper. Add the whole chicken,
seal the bag, and place in the refrigerator to marinade overnight (the
longer this marinates, the better).

2) The following day, remove the chicken from the plastic bag, and blot
dry using paper towels.

3) Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

3) Meanwhile, in a small bowl, create a rub for the chicken by combining 2
minced cloves of garlic, 1tablespoon minced oregano, the cumin, salt,
pepper, and 2 tablespoons olive oil. Massage the rub into the chicken,
making sure to get the mixture between the skin and the flesh. Using
kitchen twine, tie the legs together.

4) In a baking dish, arrange the sliced onions in a single layer, and
place the chicken breast-side-up over the onions. Add chicken broth to the
dish, and cook in the oven for 30 minutes.

5) Remove the chicken from the oven, and lower the oven temperature to
375. Using kitchen tongs in the cavity of the chicken, turn the chicken so
it is breast-side-down, and replace in the oven for another 30 minutes.

6) Remove the chicken from the oven, and baste with the liquid. Flip the
chicken one more time so that it is now breast-side-up, and finish cooking
for 30-35 minutes, or until its juices run clear.

Allow chicken to rest for 15 minutes before carving. Serve with the
roasted onions from the baking dish and mojo sauce.

Traditional Cuban Mojo Sauce

¼ cup olive oil
3-4 cloves of garlic, finely minced
1 small onion, finely diced
2 tablespoons fresh oregano, minced
3 sour oranges (or 2 navel oranges and 2 lemons), juiced
salt and pepper to taste

In a small saucepan, heat the olive oil over medium heat. When the oil is
hot, add the garlic, and stir constantly, so that the garlic does not
burn. When the garlic turns slightly golden, add the onions, and sweat
until they are translucent. Add the oregano, sour orange juice, salt and
pepper, and lower the heat to medium low. Simmer for 10 minutes. Serve
hot, alongside meat.



Original Source / Fuente Original:
http://blogs.forward.com/the-jew-and-the-carrot/169767/