Chilean strawberries

[In Chile] one generally does not buy fruit, rather one is readily allowed to enter the orchards and eat all you wish. Only what are called “frutillas” [strawberries], and in Italy frauli, are sold, even though they grow wild and in the country I have seen full leagues of strawberries, growing of their own accord, those who cultivate them make a lot of money. They are very different that those that I have seen here in Rome, both in color and in flavor, and in quantity because they grow as big as pears, and although they are usually red, they are, in Concepción, white and yellow.  (Padre Alonso de Ovalle, Historia Relación del Reyno de Chile, 1646)[1]

One of the many pleasures of living in Chile is that strawberries arrive in the farmers’ markets in mid October and remain until March, and they are, in the Chilean phrase, “the three Bs:” bueno, bonito y barato (good, pretty and cheap-presently $650-750 CLP/kg, $.60 US/lb)—even if they are not "as big as pears.”

Strawberries (Fragaria chiloensis) have been a Chilean pleasure for a long time.  They grew wild in great abundance and were domesticated around 1300 AD by the ancestors of the Mapuche, south central Chile’s indigenous people.[2]  When the Spanish arrived they quickly became acquainted with Chilean strawberries and were impressed enough to take them back to Peru.  In his Commentarios Reales de los Incas, Garcilazo de la Vega, son of a Spanish conquistador and an Inca princess, described the fruits of Peru.

…he included in his descriptions a fruit called the Chili, which he thought probably had come to Cuzco in 1557, six years after Valdivia's conquest [of Chile]. According to him, this pleasant-tasting fruit bore small seeds on its surface.... the Chili was rather long and heart-shaped instead of round, and the plant grew on low bushes which crept along the ground. Botanists are certain that de la Vega was describing the strawberry. As he was unable to give the fruit a Peruvian name, he called it instead the "Chili," thus supporting the evidence that the species was F. chiloensis, the strawberry of the Mapuche and Huilliche Indians.[3]

Fortunately, for those already confused about Chile and chili, the name chili didn’t stick, and for some reason neither the traditional Spanish word “fresa” (strawberry) nor the Mapuche kelleñ were used:  frutilla, literally “little fruit,” became, and remains, Chilean for “strawberry.”

Mapuche strawberries

Fragaria chiloensis [4]     

    

We know little about how the Mapuche grew and used strawberries, but a young Spanish soldier, Francisco Núñez de Pineda y Bascuñán, who was a Mapuche captive for 6 months in 1622 (see Feasting with the Enemy), and wrote an account of his captivity many years later, mentions them frequently.

…they brought me a plate of good size of fresh cultivated strawberries, and without exaggeration some were so large they could not be finished in two bites.  They devote even more care to their strawberry beds than we give to vineyards because they dry great quantities of them for their chicha.[5]

Chicha, wine or cider fermented from grains or fruits, was an important in all Mapuche social occasions.   And while maize chicha was the most important, fruit chichas, and especially strawberry chicha, were greatly appreciated by the young Francisco.

Even though we had eaten a very good supper, they brought me a pitcher of chicha of dried strawberries, clear, tasty and spicy, the best that they have. ….We ate happily and with pleasure because they toasted us with strawberry chicha, which for me was the best present they could give.[6]

Strawberry chicha was produced through spontaneous fermentation of fruit, mashed with water, although when available the lees of a previous batch were added to speed up the process.  The time necessary for production varied with the temperature and the sugar content of the fruit and it probably yielded 3 to 7% alcohol.[7]  

The Mapuches’ domesticated strawberries were larger than the wild varieties, and tended to be pink or white, rather than red.  Louis Feuillee, a Catholic priest, provided a description of the Concepción strawberries he saw in 1709.

Several fruits, like pears, apples, strawberries, etc. were ripe. For dessert we were served some strawberries of a marvelous taste, whose size equaled that of our largest nuts. Their color is a pale white. They are prepared in the same manner as we fix them in Europe, and, although they have neither the color nor the taste of ours, they do not lack excellence.[8]

In the 1830s French botanist Claudio Gay traveled throughout Chile and later wrote extensively about Chilean natural history.  In his Agricultura he discussed the Chilean strawberry:

The frutilla or Chilean strawberry, called quelighen [kelleñ ] by the Araucanians, grows spontaneously in Chile, especially in the south where they are very abundant.   They are also cultivated in gardens and orchards, where they frequently are the size a walnut. They are rosy pink, but in cultivation they are usually white, especially in the north where their natural color is maintained only the first year.  They are the first fruit eaten in spring and by December vendors on horses and mules bring great baskets and sell them in the streets at very low prices.  It is also the custom to make festive trips to rural gardens in the countryside to eat them, especially to the little town of Renca, near Santiago, long famous for strawberries. [9]

These Mapuche strawberries are still cultivated in Chile, though no longer in Renca, and on a much smaller scale than the common commercial varieties.  In the community of Purén, north west of Temuco, some 25 small scale growers annually produce some 16,000 kg. with great success:

We are in full harvest and have great demand for the product. The prices are very good; here in this zone were are selling at 5 thousand pesos a kilo [$4.50 US/lb.] and in other regions we have been paid up to 7 thousand a kilo” said grower, Aurelio Carvajal.[10]

White strawberries of Purén. The Purén Strawberry Festival is in mid February. 

Origins of the modern strawberry

As George Darrow explains in The Strawberry: History, Breeding, and Physiology, Amédée François Frézier, a French engineer and Lieutenant Colonel of the French Army Intelligence Corps, was sent to Chile in 1712 as a spy with orders to “make Hydrographical Observations for the Use of Mariners, and for the Correction of the Charts, and also to take exact Plans of the most considerable Ports and fortresses along the Coasts” while passing himself off as a merchant captain.  On his journeys he visited Concepción, where he encountered the Mapuches’ strawberries:

….they plant whole Fields, with a Sort of Strawberry Rushes, differing from ours, in that the Leaves are rounder, thicker and more downy. The fruit is generally as big as a Walnut, and sometimes as a Hen's Egg, of a whitish Red, and somewhat less delicious of taste than our Wood Strawberries. I have given some Plants of them to Monsieur de Jussieu, for the King's Garden, where Care will be taken to bring them to bear. Besides these, there is plenty in the Woods of our European Kind. And in Short, all manner of Garden-Product among us, grow there plentifully, and almost without trouble.[11]

Strawberries were, of course, known in Europe, which had wild “wood strawberries,” under cultivation in France since 1300.  And specimens of the wild North American strawberry, F. virginiana, had been introduced in the 1600s, so the Chilean strawberries were added to botanical gardens where other varieties already existed.  But F. chiloensis almost never set fruit.   Frézier had, unknowingly, brought only female plants. 

So Chilean strawberries remained an exotic novelty in European gardens into the 1750, when it was discovered that by planting F. virginiana near by, strawberries were produced, some measuring 7½ inches in circumference. Thus was born the modern hybrid strawberry, a cross between F. chiloensis and F. virginiana, called F. ananassa or Fragaria × ananassa.

6 kg. of strawberries on the way to becoming preserves

Eating Chilean strawberries

While not among the top 20 world strawberry producers, Chile is a significant exporter of strawberries, second after Mexico in providing 7% of US strawberry imports in 2004[12] and 7^th worldwide as an exporter of frozen strawberries in 2005.

But most Chilean strawberries are sold fresh, within the domestic market, so what do Chileans do with their strawberries?  Nothing especially unusual, but here are a couple of Chilean strawberry recipes you may find interesting.

   

And Kuchen de Frutillas, Strawberry Kuchen (a recipe in English)

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[1] Padre Alfonso de Ovalle in Historica relacion del Reyno de Chile y de las missiones y ministerios que exercita en él la Compañía de Jesus, as quoted in Correa Vergara, Luis. 1938. Agricultura Chilena, tomo II. Santiago:  Imprenta Nascimenta. p. 218

[2] Dauben, Hugh. 2003. British Columbia’s Pacific Coast Beach Strawberry- Fragaria chiloensis. Davidsonia 14:1 p. 5-11.  on line at http://www.davidsonia.org/fragaria_chiloensis.

[3] Darrow, George McMillan. 1966. The Strawberry: History, Breeding, and Physiology.  New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston. Chapt. 4  on line at http://www.nal.usda.gov/pgdic/Strawberry/book/bokfour.htm

[4]Ibid.  Plate 4-3

[5] Núñez de Pineda y Bascuñán, Francisco, 1608-1680. 2001. El cautiverio feliz, Tomo dos; edición crítica de Mario Ferreccio Podestá y Raïssa Kordić  Riquelme. Santiago de Chile:  Seminario de Filología Hispánica, Facultad de Filosofía y Humanidades, Universidad de Chile, p. 917. on line at http://books.google.cl/books?id=VOrKaGk48twC&printsec=frontcover&hl=en#v=onepage&q=&f=false

[6] Pardo B, Oriana. 2004. Las Chichas en el Chile Precolombino.  Chloris Chilensis: Revista Chilena de Flora y vegetación.  Año7:2. on line at http://www.chlorischile.cl/chichas/chichas.htm

[7] Ibid.

[8] Darrow, Op sit. Chapt. 4

[9]  Gay, Claudio. 1862-1865.  Agricultura, Tomo 2. París: En casa del autor; Chile: Museo de Historia Natural de Santiago, p. 13. on line at http://www.memoriachilena.cl/temas/documento_detalle.asp?id=MC0002688

[10] Frutilla Blanca de Purén: un negocio que cada día se ve más rentable para La Araucanía. El Austral. Dec. 28, 2008. on line at http://www.renacerdeangol.cl/prontus4_noticias/site/artic/20081228/pags/20081228000302.html

[11] Darrow, op cit. Chapt. 3 from the English translation of Frézier's book.

[12] Boriss, Hayley, et al. 2006.  Commodity Profile: Strawberries. Agricultural Issues Center

University of California.  On line at http://aic.ucdavis.edu/profiles/Strawberries-2006.pdf

Chili in Chile is Ají

It is a little confusing, but Chile, the country, has no relation to chili (or chile), the pepper (Capsicum sp.) The name the republic probably came from the Inca, and referred to the name of a local chief, …or a local valley. Or perhaps it came from the language of the Mapuche, in which there are several similar words, of various meanings, that the Spanish might have been adopted.[1] Or perhaps…

…perhaps I should return to the subject:  Chili, the pepper; in Chile, the nation; is called ají (pronounced ah-hé).  Ají (or axí in older Spanish) is from the language of the Taínos, the aboriginal peoples of the Antilles where Columbus landed. In 1526, Fernándes de Oviedo in his General and Natural History of the Indies wrote:

Axí is a very well known and used plant in all parts of these Indies, islands and mainland, it is very useful and necessary because it is hot and gives very good flavor and is appetizing with other foods, with fish as much as with meat: and it is the pepper of the Indians, and they make much use of it as there is an abundance of ají [sic] because in all their farms and orchards they plant it and raise it with great diligence and attention,… And it is no less pleasant to the Christians, nor do they use less of it that the Indian because besides being a very good spice it gives good flavor and heat to the stomach; and it is healthy, but very hot this axí.[2]

The Spanish who went with Cortez to Mexico found plenty of ají, and called it by the Nahuatl word hilli or xilli—today’s chile. But the conquistadors who came to Peru and ultimately to Chile came by way of Panama, not Mexico. So today the Taíno word ají is used from Panama throughout Spanish South America.

Photo. Southwest Heaven

Besides there being no relation between Chile the nation, and chili the spice, today’s Chileans are not overly fond of spicy food (see In Chile “hot” isn’t cool) and picante (hot or spicy) also means “tacky--lower class.” But here and there among Chile’s mildly seasoned dishes are a few that will satisfy your cravings for spice. 

The basics, of course, are the chilies themselves, the raw materials.

Here, from upper left to lower right, are the most common hot chilies in Chile:

• Ají verde--green chili; (Capsicum annuum) The most common chili in Chile, it is moderately hot, similar to the jalapeño or a little milder.  Used in in Chilean pebre (see below) and enslalada chilena.
• Ají cacho de cabra—Goat’s horn chili, also a Capsicum annuum variety, is the other indigenous Chilean chili, used in cooking and in the Mapuche chili powder merken, below.
• Ají Amarillo—Yellow chili. Capsicum baccatum, in the top part of the bin.  The most popular chili in Peru, available in Santiago ferias (farmer’s markets) and in La Vega, the central market.  Moderately hot.  Not use in Chilean dishes.
• Rocoto—Another Peruvian chili (Capsicum pubescens), lower in the bin. Very hot with the veins and seeds, but mild enough to serve stuffed when they are removed. Not used in Chilean dishes.  (See my post on Peruvian cuisine.)
• More Ají Amarillo and rocotos, lower left bin.
• Chile jalapeño, top, a Mexican and US favorite; and below probably red and green cayenne peppers. Neither are used in classic Chilean dishes.  And in the bins to the left are cucumbers, key limes (limón de pica), and garlic—also a somewhat suspect seasoning in Chilean cuisine.

Also common are: Bell peppers, red and green, called pimentónes or morrónes, and red pimentos, often sold interchangeably with red bell peppers.

Among condiments using chilies, the most common are:

• Ají de color—paprika, very popular and widely used in Chilean Creole dishes. Very mild.
• Ají Chilena—Chilean hot sauce, common as a table condiment, made of “red chili,” vinegar and salt, plus the usual preservatives.  It is thick and quite hot.  Popular (among chili eaters) on empanadas, hot dogs, etc.

  

Photo:  wanaku

And then there is merkén.

  

The Mapuche, indigenous Chileans, produce this artisanal spice blend from dried, smoked cabra de cacho chilies, ground toasted coriander seeds and salt, and occasionally oregano or cumin.  It has a wonderful smoky aroma, is only moderately picante—on the order of hot paprika or Spanish pimentón—and can be used, moderating the quantities,  in any recipe that calls for powdered chilies, American chili powder, hot paprika or cayenne.  It is also great as a table condiment, shaken on anything from scrambled eggs to fired potatoes.

Suffering from the double stigma of being picante and Indian, merkén (or merquén) largely escaped the notice of Chilean culinary culture until recently.  It is defined in the 1875 Diccionario de Chilenismos as “a mixture of chili and salt that is carried on journeys to season the meals improvised in lodgings…  in the southern provinces, especially in the communities near the Araucarian frontier.”  But Eugenio Pereira Salas makes no mention of it in his well researched Notes for the History of Chilean Cuisine[3] (1943), and it does not appear in the classic Chilean cookbook, La Gran Cocina Chilena (2000). Now however, in true foodie fashion, it has made the New York Times, which includes mail order sources in the US.

José Manuel Rebolledo writes glowingly of its virtues:

…few could have anticipated that one of the ingredients most rooted in the Mapuche kitchen would become a true “hit” of the national high gastronomy.  I speak of merkén, ….which in the last years has occupied a place of honor in the most elegant and cutting edge kitchens of the country.

Merkén stamps its own authentic ethnic seal through the matchless complexity of its flavors and the particular aromas of earth and smoke.  The modern creations based on meats like tuna, lamb, pork or duck (to name some), with that delicate picante touch perfected with the sweet shades of preserves or fruits are, without a doubt, ”a trophy for the senses.”  Its perfume harmonizes splendidly with king crab and other sea foods and is a great condiment in ceviches and tartars.  Potatoes, winter squash, and vegetables are also fine complements, becoming true delicacies when infused with its flavor.[4]

As of now, however, the place of honor that it occupies in those cutting edge restaurants is mostly as a sprinkle of color adding to an elegant presentation, but some are going a cautious step further. 

Salmon al merquén. Salmon Chile [Recipe summary:  Dust the salmon with merquén and sear in hot oil.  Reduce balsamic vinegar with a little sugar to the consistency of a sauce.]

Fettuccini al merkén with Patagonian lamb and a reduction of merlot,  Chef Sebastián Lizana, restaurant  Divino Pecado, Viña del Mar. [Recipe summary:  add a teaspoon of merkén to homemade pasta dough, dust lamb with merkén before sautéing.]

 

Octopus and calamari Quiche [Recipe summary: Sauté onion in butter, add octopus (previously cooked) and calamari, season with salt, pepper and merkén; mix cream, milk and eggs and combine with seafood mix in un-cooked quiche crust, bake 45 min.]

And pebre,

My wife’s pebre

Although very few Chilean main dishes are spicy, a small dish of pebre—a salsa of onion, garlic, cilantro and chili, with a bit of vinegar and oil, and sometimes tomatoes—is served with bread and butter as soon as you are seated at most Chilean restaurants.   It can range from very mild to moderately hot.   It is also served at asados (barbeques) to be eaten with meat, sausages or even on boiled potatoes.

  

Oh…. and rinsing the onions in cold water?  A common practice; it tones down the onion, more in keeping with Chilean taste.  According to Roberto Marín’s Secrets of the Chilean Kitchen:

Chilean garlic and onions are stronger and more flavorful than those in the rest of the world.  Make them milder by placing the chopped onions in a colander and rinsing repeatedly before use.[5]

Or could it be that Chilean taste is more “refined?”   

While the dish itself is fairly straight forward, similar to Argentinean chimichurri and other Latin American table sauces, it’s history is a bit strange.  Zorobabel Rodriquez’ 1875 Dictionary of Chilensmos says:

Pebre:  in Spain pebre is a sauce made to season some foods, made from pepper and other spices.  In Chile it is a dish of mashed potatoes. [!][6]

And so it was. The New Kitchen Manual of 1882 gives this recipe:

Pebre in milk—with a spoon break up peeled potatoes until they are like dough; add milk until they reach the consistency of a pudding.  Heat in a casserole with a piece of butter, and then put in the over to brown.[7]

How the Spanish sauce pebre (from the Latin for pepper) became oven browned mashed potatoes in Chile is a mystery. (If you know, please share.)  But even if Zorababel Rodriquez didn’t know it, it was also a Chilean sauce.  The New Kitchen Manual also suggest that lamb tongue should be served with “a pebre of oil, parsley, bay leaf, mint and vinegar;” not to different from today’s pebre.

What else is spicy in Chilean cuisine? 

Not much, at least here in central Chile.  But there are a couple of dishes worth noting, with recipes:

• Pure picante :  Mashed potatoes with ají Chilena or merkén added, enough to give a slight pink color and a bit of heat—but only a bit.  Part of the Creole cuisine often served with pork spareribs.
• Seafood Pilpil:  Scallops, shrimp, octopus, and occasionally even beef filet cooked in abundant olive oil, garlic and hot chili, and some times white wine.  Pilpil is a Basque dish, originally made with salt cod, but now clearly a part of Chilean Creole cuisine thanks to Basque immigrants.

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[1] Chile. From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. On line at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chile

[2] As quoted in Zottia, Carlos.  2009.  Historia del pimiento, guindilla, chili, axí o ají. Historia de la Cocina. On line at http://www.historiacocina.com/historia/articulos/pimiento.htm

[3] Pereira Salas, Eugenio.  1977. Apuntes para la historia de la cocina chilena.  Santiago : Universitaria.  On line at http://www.memoriachilena.cl/temas/documento_detalle.asp?id=MC0006512

[4] Rebolledo C., José Manuel. 2005 v Merken, con todo el sabor ancestral. AtinaChile, on line at http://www.atinachile.cl/content/view/3097

[5] Martin, Roberto. 2006.  Secretos de la Cocina Chilena.  Santiago:  Edeciones Origo. p. 29.

[6] Zorobabel Rodriquez.  1875.  Diccionario de Chilenismos.  Santiago: El Independente.

[7] Anonymous. 1882.  Nuevo manual de cocina: conteniendo 377 recetas de guisos escojidos de las cocinas francesas, española, chilena, inglesa e italiana: arregladas para el uso de las familias del país. Valparaíso : Libr. del Mercurio de Orestes L. Tornero

In Chile “hot” isn’t cool.

I like spicy food.  Strong flavors: ginger, garlic, mustard, pepper, anchovies, ripe cheese, horseradish, and especially chilies have a special attraction for me.  Among my favorite cuisines are Mexican, Thai, Korean, and Louisiana Creole-Cajun.  Food that English speakers call “hot;” picante in Spanish.

At this point you have probably realized that I am not Chilean: these are not qualities that Chileans look for in food.  In Chilean Spanish “picante” means not only spicy, but “‘tacky’; low class or bad quality[1].”  It is not popular.  (but see "In Chile, chili is aji")

 

But it was not always so.  Eugenio Pereira Salas, in his Notes for the History of Chilean Cuisine, writes that in the early colonial period:

Meats and vegetables were seasoned with chili. “There is no doubt—notes Gómez de Vidaurre [a Chilean Jesuit, 1737-1818]—that for one not accustomed to it, the first time it will cause great suffering from the burning that one feels in the lips and palate, but becoming accustomed to it after a short time, one looks for the good effects that it provides.” [2]

Pereira Salas speaks of popular picante Chilean foods such as:  valican “a great tray of shellfish stewed with chili” and the ancestor of charquican and all the “-cans”);” “ñache, warm sheep’s blood collected in a glass with plenty of ground chili, onion and cilantro;” polmay, a dish of shellfish steamed in the shell and seasoned with chili, onion and other spices; “flour, jerky, and beans with salt and chili or pepper;” “the Creole empanada baked with fat and filled with pinu, a hash of meat, onion, raisins, eggs and chilies;” “cut olives with chili;” “a very substantial beef soup, seasoned with chili, and thickened with corn flour; ” “sanco or chercán, a countryman’s snack made of toasted wheat flour, fat, onion, chili, salt and hot water:” “oak sprouts shaped like cauliflower[3] with bread crumbs and chili;” etc., etc., 

Chili continued to be basic to the Chilean diet into the 19^th and early 20^th centuries, especially among working class families, urban and rural.  Claudio Gay (1800-1873), a French botanist and naturalist who visited Chile during the 1830s and wrote widely concerning its geography, natural history, and agriculture found that:

The food of the country people is very simple, but in needs to be prepared with pepper capable of invigorating the fibers relaxed by the heat and the water they drink; this pepper is the chili, consumed in great quantity.  In general their laziness and indolence cause them to live very badly, eating mostly vegetables and above all potatoes, beans, peas, wheat and corn, sometimes as rice is eaten or in the form of toasted flour, and in rare cases meat, preferring to sell the animals that they raise and never lack.  When it is the hacienda owner who feeds them they seem to still be in the Middle Ages for the uniformity of their foods, only a plate of beans in the north and of peas in the south, simply cooked in water with a little grease or cracklings.  This is the year-round diet that they prefer and request, imagining that it makes them strong and fit for their work, which the results seem to confirm. [4] 

A working class Santiago family in (below), subject of a 1902 study conducted by two students of Political Economy, had a similar diet, similarly rich in chili.  The students concluded that:

The basis of [the diet], generally composed of vegetables such as beans, potatoes and wheat, is healthy and nutritious, but its preparation makes it dangerous.  To its irregular cooking are added innumerable irritating condiments, such as chili, pepper, and grease which make it difficult to digest.  …the abundance of condiments such as the one they call “color,” which is a mix of ordinary grease and chili or paprika, that they use without measure, distorts the goodness of their frugivorous [sic] diet, and makes the carnivorous more defective.[5]

 But change was afoot.

 From the last third of the 19^th century until the first three decades of the 20^th, Latin America experienced a period of unprecedented economic growth sustained by exports of raw materials and foods.  Among the relevant processes during these years was the growth of cities (mainly the capitals); centers radiating “progress,” “civilization” and “decency.”  There the elites’ cultural gaze was fixed firmly on the other side of the Atlantic, from which they took models of behavior and consumption that dominated in the most prominent social circles.  “The upper class adopted English and French turns and rejected the comme ci, comme ça people, desiring to maintain their touch with the snobs [siúticos].”[6]

English influence…

made itself felt permanently in masculine styles, in the sporting life, in the modest and elegant etiquette and the rules of a refined urbanity which brought a distinguished tone to the existence of the elites.  …In gastronomy, we owe them ….the habit of tea that gained popular favor, pushing aside the Creole mate of the isolated agricultural regions.  …and the breakfast of “Quaker” [oatmeal]  …and cocoa, which gained acceptance among children and the elderly.[7]

And French chefs imported for the dining rooms of the best hotels resulted in an “belle époque” of French gastronomy, “when, without doubt, all the wealthy families kept a cook initiated in the mysteries of the Cordon Bleu.”[8]  Adoption of European styles by the elites, which spread to the middle classes, led to a more refined Chilean cuisine, less Creole, less picante, more international, and often in French.  “And when the dish was Creole and there was no Gallic equivalent, it was frenchified; chicken cazuela, for example, was called cazuelá de volailles.”[9]  

But while Chilean elites were experiencing the belle époque, workers were hungry and “the majority of the population was in misery.”  Food exports led to high prices, without concomitant increases in wages of the poor. 

What occurred in Chile at the end of the 19^th century was a reflection of the existing social abyss. While some anchored themselves to European culinary traditions, eager to differentiate themselves from the “loutish masses” [rotosa plebe], others had to figure out how to subsist with what fell into their hands, combining indigenous and Spanish tastes. Never the less, the two identities forged on these bases had something important in common:  delight in the pleasures of the table [la buena mesa] and the exaltation of food; sophisticated and exotic for some, scarce but always appetizing for others.[10]

   “The two peoples in the September celebrations.” El Padre Cobos, September 18, 1882

A related influence may have been evolving social Darwinian concepts that reflected the widening gap between elites and workers, and gave a “scientific” basis to the differentiation between “decent people” and the “loutish masses.”  In the United States, reaction to increasing immigration led nativists to distain not only the immigrants, but their cuisines, thought to be unhealthy and to lead to immorality:

To a thoroughly normal and unperverted taste, irritating condiments of all sorts are very obnoxious. It is true that Nature accommodates herself to their use with food to such a degree that they may be employed for years without apparently producing very grave results; but this very condition is a source of injury, since it is nothing more nor less than the going to sleep of the sentinels which nature has posted at the portal of the body, for the purpose of giving warning of danger. The nerves of sensibility have become benumbed to such a degree that they no longer offer remonstrance against irritating substances, and allow the enemy to enter into the citadel of life.   …The use of condiments is unquestionably a strong auxiliary to the formation of a habit of using intoxicating drinks. Persons addicted to the use of intoxicating liquors are, as a rule, fond of stimulating and highly seasoned foods; and although the converse is not always true, yet it is apparent to every thoughtful person, that the use of a diet composed of highly seasoned and irritating food, institutes the conditions necessary for the acquirement of a taste for intoxicating liquors. [11]

The extent to which this kind of thinking—directed at lower classes rather than to immigrants--existed in Chile is unclear, but the change in emphasis from Gay’s observation in the 1870s (above) that workers’ diet seemingly “makes them strong and fit” to that of the 1902 study which found their diet “distorted” by the addition of “irritating condiments,” is suggestive.  And it certainly mirrors culinary and social perspectives of the Chilean upper and middle classes in the 20th century.  

Some indication of the change can be seen in historic Chilean cookbooks (many of which are available on-line through Memoria Chilena).  While literacy, and especially cookbook reading, was limited to upper and middle classes whose taste was already evolving, the 1882 New Cooking Manual:  Containing 377 dishes selected from the cuisines of France, Spain, Chile, England and Italy[12] (which, in spite of the title, is predominantly Chilean, and in Spanish) occasionally includes ají and garlic and color (lard or beef tallow colored with paprika) are frequent ingredients.

  

By contrast, the 1911Chilean cookbook, La Negrita Doddy, is strongly French.  Among the soups alone are: Consommé a la Charley, Soup al Conde de Paris, …of asparagus le Crecy, …of fish a la Provenzal (Bouillabaise); …of leeks and lettuce, …of fish or chicken quenelles, and …of Vertepré.   Her recipes include color only twice, both times in cazuelas, and plain lard is always given as an alternative.  Ají occurs in ajiaco, and valdiviano, two soups with early colonial roots which, to her credit, she says “should be picante,” and in only two other dishes, one Peruvian. Garlic is now recommended rarely, with onion sometimes given as an alternative, “according to your taste.”    And the classic Creole charquican now contains neither color nor chili, but English Worchester sauce.[13]

  

Finally in 1951 we have Famous Recipes of the Hotel Crillón[14], at the height of French influence on Chilean cuisine, which includes no color, no ají and in fact, no Chilean recipes—although in true French fashion, a bit of garlic.

Chilean cuisine today and tomorrow.

While the French influence has waned and Creole cuisine is now featured mainly in restaurants specializing in Comida Típica, most Chilean restaurant cuisine continues to avoid strong flavors.  Neither chili nor garlic is in evidence on most menus (outside of the pebre, Chilean salsa, served with bread upon being seated), and ethnic cuisines are, for the most part, adapted to Chilean taste.  Chilean Chinese food is usually innocent of ginger, garlic and chili; Mexican food is blander than in Iowa; sushi has avocado and cream cheese rather than raw fish and the rice is not vinegary, and Indian and Thai are almost unrecognizable.  (Korean food is the exception, but it’s so far out of sync with Chilean taste that no modification will make it popular—thank goodness!)

But there are glimmers of change.   Peruvian cuisine is very popular in Santiago and seems true to what is served in Peru, at least in restaurants catering to tourists; the Mexican Taquería El Ranchero is pretty authentic and offers 16 salsas, including some hot ones; the restaurant Zanzibar offers an international menu with dishes that have some semblance to the spicy originals; and the China Village comes closer to international style Cantonese that anywhere else I’ve eaten in Santiago.

And tomorrow?  French influence in 1900 could hardly be greater than the  globalized American influence that dominates Chilean taste today, and Chileans are traveling, and presumable eating, more internationally than ever before.  Meanwhile foodie magazines and cable TV’s ElGourmet.com are bringing international taste for chili, garlic, ginger, and other strong flavors into thousands of middle and upper class Chilean homes.   In the 50’s US cuisine was also adverse to garlic and chili:  today salsa Mexicana is more popular than catsup.  And “curry has grown to be referred to as ‘Britain’s national dish.[15]’”  Will globalization bring chili to Chile?  Vamos a ver.

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[1] Brennan, John & Alvaro Taboada.  2006.  How to Survive in the Chilean Jungle Santiago: Area Zero.

[2] Pereira Salas, Eugenio.  1977. Apuntes para la historia de la cocina chilena.  Santiago : Universitaria.  p. 23 on line at http://www.memoriachilena.cl/temas/documento_detalle.asp?id=MC0006512 

[3] Could this be the Chilean wild mushroom gargal which is shaped like a cauliflower?

[4] Gay, Claudio. 1882. Agricultura, Vol. 1 p. 160. París: En casa del autor; Chile: Museo de Historia Natural de Santiago.

[5] Eyzaguirre Rouse, Guillermo. 1903. Monografía de una familia obrera de Santiago. Santiago, Chile : Imprenta Barcelona. On line at http://www.memoriachilena.cl/temas/documento_detalle.asp?id=MC0001500

[  6] Palma Alvarado, Daniel. 2004 De apetitos y de cañas. El consumo de alimentos y bebidas en Santiago a fines del siglo XIX. P. 394.  Historia No 37, Vol. II, julio-diciembre 2004: 391-417 on line at http://www.scielo.cl/scielo.php?pid=S0717-71942004000200005&script=sci_arttext

[7] Pereira Salas,  p. 96

[8] Pereira Salas,  p.  107

[9] Palma Alvarado, p. 396

[10] Palma Alvarado, p. 401

[11] Kellogg, A. M. 1893 Science in the Kitchen. A Scientific Treatise on Food Substances and their Dietetic Properties, together with a Practical Explanation of the Principles of Healthful Cookery, and a Large Number of Original, Palatable, and Wholesome Recipes. Chicago, Ill:  Modern Medicine Publishing Co. on line at http://digital.lib.msu.edu/projects/cookbooks/books/sciencekitchen/scie.html.

[12]Anonymous. 1882.  Nuevo manual de cocina: conteniendo 377 recetas de guisos escojidos de las cocinas francesas, española, chilena, inglesa e italiana : arregladas para el uso de las familias del país. Valparaíso : Libr. del Mercurio de Orestes L. Tornero

[13] Lawe.  1911 La negrita Doddy : nuevo libro de cocina, enseñanza completa de la cocina casera i parte de la gran cocina : con un apéndice de recetas útiles i de los deberes de una dueña de casa. Santiago : Soc. Impr. y Litogr., Universo.  On line at http://www.memoriachilena.cl/temas/documento_detalle.asp?id=MC0012281

[14]Anonymous 1951.  Famosas recetas del Hotel Crillón.  Santiago. On line at http://www.memoriachilena.cl/temas/documento_detalle.asp?id=MC0003223

[15] National Curry Week in Great Britain.  Food Reference.com.  On line at http://www.foodreference.com/html/a23-curry-week.html.

Mote con Huesillos, Chile’s favorite summer sweet

On my first trip to Chile, in 2005, I kept seeing stands selling “mote con huesillos.”  My Spanish-English dictionary was no help, so I tried it and found it to be a stewed dried peach served in a glass with lots of light syrup and a few tablespoons of soft cooked wheat—a bit odd, but tasty and refreshing; thought I couldn’t quite understand its popularity. 

But popular it is, and according to Chilean folklorist Oreste Plath, “In summer mote con huesillos is the refreshing drink and dessert with Chilenedad:  for good reason they say “More Chilean that mote con huesillo.”[1]

Jorge González Vendedor de mote - Valdivia

History

“What is mote?” asks the European.  Nothing more or less than wheat boiled with lye, which by its strength and the heat of the fire causes the grain to loose its husk, and then washed several times in water to rid it of the lie taste, although it is never completely removed. (Recaredo Tornero, Chile ilustrado 1872)[2] 

The word mote is from the Quechan mut’i meaning cooked grain[3] —usually maize (“corn” in American English), although in Chile it refers to wheat, cooked, as Tornero explains, in an alkaline solution of lye or wood ashes.  Corn mote is motemei (mote de maíz) in Chile.

This Amerindian alkiline cooking process, called “nixtamalization” after nixtamal, the Mexican equivalent of mote, seems to have originated in Guatemala sometime around, 1200-1500 BC.  It softens dry maize kernels and removes the bran (or pericarp), making grinding easier and tortillas less fibrous. But more important, it makes maize more nutritious.  A classic article published in Science in 1974 explained that maize protein is unbalanced in its amino acid composition and is low available niacin, vitamin B3.  Cooking the kernels in alkaline water improves this balance and makes the niacin more available.   “…without alkali processing of corn, there would be a considerable degree of malnutrition in societies where corn is the major part of the diet.” [4] And, in fact, societies in African and India, as well as in the American South, that depended on corn as their staple food, but did not use alkali processing, suffered form pellagra—a disease caused by niacin deficiency.  Pellagra is rare to non-existent in Mesoamerica, where lime processing is near universal, and there is a strong correlation between the importance of maize in the diet of American Indian cultures and their use of nixtamalization.  The more maize in the diet, the more likely that it is made into nixtamal and visa versa.

From Guatemala, nixtamalization spread north and south throughout the maize growing areas of aboriginal North and Central America—but, as far as we know, no further south than Columbia.[5]  Although maize was grown throughout South America, it was not the staple it was in Mexico; potatoes and quinoa were important in the Andes and manioc was a staple in Amazonia.

In the south-eastern United States the finished product of corn cooked in lye water is “hominy,” probably from the Virginia Algonquian uskatahomen.   When dried and coarsely ground, it becomes the southern favorite, hominy grits.  Unfortunately for southerners, hominy and grits were not the staples: unprocessed corn meal was, and “in the early 1900s, pellagra reached epidemic proportions in the American South. There were 1,306 reported pellagra deaths in South Carolina during the first ten months of 1915; 100,000 Southerners were affected in 1916.”[6]

In Mexico and Central America nixtamal (from the Aztec language Nahuatl), is ground and made into tortillas or tamales, the staple Mesoamerican foods for thousands of years.  Years ago, I described the process among Isthmus Nahuat  Indians in Vera Cruz, Mexico:

The woman of the household knows approximately how many ­manos­ - units of five ears each - of maize her family consumes each day and shells enough maize for two or three days.  While the maize is being shelled, a bucket full of water is brought to a boil over the fire and a handful of lime (nesti) is added.  When the water comes to rolling boil the maize is poured in and cooked for about l0 minutes, then is taken from the fire and allowed to soak until needed.  After cooking, the maize kernels, now called ­nixtamal, are taken to the near by stream for washing.  There the maize is rubbed between the hands until the tough outer skins loosen and come off. The maize is rinsed repeatedly until the skins all are washed away and the rinse water is clear, then it is returned to the house for grinding.[7]

A remarkably similar process is followed by Sra. Luisa Quidel, a Mapuche woman who grows wheat from which she makes mote de trigo (wheat mote) for sale in the streets of Temuco, a Chilean city in the heart of Mapuche country.  Eugenia Aguilera Vega describes the process:

After the wheat is harvested you must obtain ashes for processing the wheat from a local bakery.  The ashes need to be cleaned and passed through a sieve to make good wheat mote.  The mote must be cooked at a suitable temperature for the best results, so it is done over a wood fire.  It is a slow process, but gas is too expensive.  Next the water is drained off, and the mote, husks now loosened by the ashes, is peeled.  It is scrubbed by hand and this is also a sacrifice; it is tiring work and there is no one to help her. The process is finished when the mote is well washed and allowed to rest until she leaves to sell it early the next morning.[8]

 La Motera, the Mote vendor

But how did the Mesoamerican process of nixtamalization come to Chile, and how did it come to be applied to wheat?   

Although I fond no evidence to explain its arrival, the Spanish probably brought nixtamalization to Chile.  It was almost universal in Mexico, and a lively trade existed between Peru and Mexico during the century after the conquest.[9]  Nixtamalization is also part of the colonial cuisines, but not the indigenous cuisines, of Peru, Bolivia, Argentina and Venezuela.[10]

Mapuche servants tended the fires and kitchens in colonial Chile, and the process evidently diffused into Mapuche culture—where it was called kako--not only for maize, but for wheat[11] and legumes.[12]

  

 Manual para la promocion de alimentacion tradicional Mapuche

Wheat mote became a regular part of Chilean Creole cuisine for colonists as well as for the Mapuche.  It could be eaten fresh, after processing, or could be dried for later use.  Dried mote is prepared by boiling in abundant water for a half hour of so.

Traditionally it was eaten like rice or mixed with a little of its cooking water, or in pottages.  La Gran Cocina Chilena, the classic Chilean cookbook, offers recipes for mote with: peas, cream, milk, potatoes, and country style (with winter squash and sugar) as well as mote con huesillos.  Most are creamy risotto-like dishes:  sturdy, filling and a bit bland.  

But contemporary Chilean chefs are beginning to use mote in other ways:

Potatoes with mote, curry and herbs, Haydee Manzo

Pebre de Mote, BB Cuisine, Santiago

 

 I first used mote as an addition to whole wheat bread, but now make mote pilaf (right), and the middle eastern salad tabule, substituting mote for bulgur.  Actually, mote can be substituted for other grains (wheat berries, brown rice, bulgur, pearled barley, etc.) in most recipes. 

But back to mote con huesillos: 

Given its popularity, I assumed that mote con huesillos was one of those dishes, like North American dried apple pie, that satisfied the sweet tooth of rural households in winter when cupboards were bare of fresh food.  Both are products of subsistence farming, storable for long periods, and likely to be available to people of very modest means.  But I was wrong. 

The two products seem to have come together in urban Santiago of the late 19^th Century.  By the 1870s, Recaredo S.Tornero’s Chile Ilustrado shows that mote had begun to be associated with huesillos: 

The cry of the motero [mote vendor] announces the coming of summer, the epoch when his sales begin.  What does the motero do during the winter?  No one knows; but it is in the hot season that one hears him in the streets calling “Huesillos”  and ”Fresh mote,” for no one would sell mote alone.  … The measure the motero uses is a large china cup at the reasonable price of one cuartillo (3 cents), including the same cup full of water which he always has in a clay pitcher.

And what about the huesillos?  They are just cooked dried peaches, to which they usually add toasted flour.[13]  

 But were they served together, as in today’s dish?  Chilean blogger Criss Salazar thinks not, noting in his excellent blog Urbarorium on Santiago history, that the mote was sold with its cooking water and the huesillos were eaten with toasted flour.  (See El Mote con Huesillos: Historia de una Mezcla Ganadora[14]).

So when did the combination begin?  Probably a little later.  But by the beginning of the 20^th century it had become popular in Santiago[15] and today “nothing is more chilean than mote con huesillos.”

A recipe for mote con huesillos?  Of course.  My Chilean wife, whose mote and huesillos are pictured above,  does it like this:

[1] Plath, Oreste.  1962. Geografía gastronómica de Chile.  En viaje / Empresa de los Ferrocarriles del Estado. Santiago : La Empresa, 1933-1973. v., año XXIX, n° 343, (May 1962), p. 181–184 On line at http://www.memoriachilena.cl//temas/documento_detalle.asp?id=MC0023119 (all translations mine)

[2] Tornero, Recaredo.  1872 Chile ilustrado: Guía descriptivo del territorio de Chile.  Valpariso:  Librerias I Ajencias del Mercurio. p. 468. On line at http://www.memoriachilena.cl/temas/documento_detalle.asp?id=MC0012105

[3] Coe, Sophie D. 1994.  America's First Cuisines.  Austin:  Univeristy of Texas Press p. 223; Mote, Wikipedia en Español on line at http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mote

[4] Katz, S.H., M.L. Hediger and L.A. Valleroy. 1974. Traditional maize processing in the New World. Science 184: 765-73.

[5] Katz, et al. 1974; Coe, 1994.

[6]  Pellagra, Wikipedia. On line at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pellagra#cite_note-Bollet_1992-3

[7]  Stuart, James W. 1978. Subsistence ecology of the Isthmus Nahuat Indians of southern Veracruz, Mexico. University of California, Riverside.

[8] Aguilera Vega,  Eugenia. 2007. Mote: Gusto para unos, vida para otros.  Centro de Medios Independientes Santiago, on line at http://santiago.indymedia.org/news/2007/06/70390.php

[9] Borah, Woodrow Wilson. 1954.  Early colonial trade and navigation between Mexico and Peru. Ibero-Americana ; v. 38.  Berkeley, University of California Press.

[10] Mote, Wikipedia en Español on line at http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mote

[11] It would be interesting to know what nixtamalzation does to the nurtitaional value of wheat, but I found nothing on the subject.

[12] Jelves Mella, Ivonne, et. al.  n.d. Manual Para La Promocion De Alimentacion Tradicional Mapuche.  Asociacion Para La Salud Makewe Pelale. Hospital Makewe.

[13] Toreno, 1872 p. 468

[14] Salazar, Criss .El Mote con Huesillos: Historia de una Mezcla Ganadora. Urbatorium on line at http://urbatorium.blogspot.com/2009/01/el-mote-con-huesillos-historia-de-una.html

[15] Palma Alvarado, Daniel. 2004. De apetitos y de cañas. El consumo de alimentos y bebidas en Santiago a fines del siglo XIX. Historia, 37 (diciembre)  p. 395 on line at  http://redalyc.uaemex.mx/redalyc/src/inicio/ArtPdfRed.jsp?iCve=33437205&iCveNum=1317#

Eating Chilean wild mushrooms (hongos silvestres Chilenos)

 Last year about this time, I saw a man in La Vega, Santiago’s central market, selling these odd little golf-ball like things from a large basket.

 “What are they?” 

“Dihueñes, wild mushrooms, 6,000 pesos per kilo.” (about $5 a lb.)

“What do you do with them?”

“Make a salad with cilantro and onions, muy rico.”

“Give me a quarter kilo.”

Having managed to forget the name by the time I got home, I spent a few hours on the internet looking for what I had found.  They were Dihueñes (Cyttaria spp.), that fruit in the spring and are collected September through November when it is “common to find them in local markets or from street vendors in the Central-Southern zone of the country.”[1]

And, as it turns out, I was not the first gringo to find them interesting.  Charles Darwin, traveling in Tierra del Fuego in June, 1834 wrote:

There is deserving notice from its importance as an article of food to the Fuegians. It is a globular, bright-yellow fungus, which grows in vast numbers on the beech-trees. When young it is elastic and turgid, with a smooth surface; but when mature, it shrinks, becomes tougher, and has its entire surface deeply pitted or honeycombed, as represented in Plate 55.

 This fungus belongs to a new and curious genus (…Cyttaria Darwinii: the Chilean species is the C. Berteroii.) …How singular is this relationship between parasitical fungi and the trees on which they grow, in distant parts of the world! In Tierra del Fuego the fungus in its tough and mature state is collected in large quantities by the women and children, and is eaten un-cooked. It has a mucilaginous, slightly sweet taste, with a faint smell like that of a mushroom. With the exception of a few berries, chiefly of a dwarf arbutus, the natives eat no vegetable food besides this fungus.[2]

I followed the vendor’s advise (and a recipe I found) and made a salad with onion, cilantro and vinaigrette.  As Darwin noted, they are a little slippery, with a flavor that might be described as subtle:  go lightly with the onion and vinaigrette or that is all you will taste. 

 .

The Mapuche of south-central Chile suggest that you try Dihueñes  in empanadas, as in this recipe below from Cocina Mapuche.[3]

 . 

In the process of reading about my Dihueñes, I discovered Carlos D. Cisterna Lagos excellent article “Explotación de Hongos Silvestres en Chile”[4] (“Exploitation of Wild Mushrooms in Chile”) from which I have summarized most of what follows.  Several of the photos are also from Hongos de Chile. 

My first surprise was that:

Chile has become one of the major world exporters of wild mushroom, exceeded only by China, Russia and Poland.  With returns of over 50 million US dollars a year, it is without doubt, the most important activity related to non-lumber forest products. As many as 40 thousand people between Valparaiso and Magallanes participate directly in mushroom collecting or processing for more than 35 exporting enterprises.  Some communities are completely dedicated to this activity during fall and winter, for example Empedrado (Region VII), considered the capital of wild mushroom collecting in South America.

The major species are:

The dark pine mushroom, callampa[5] del pino oscura (Suillus luteus), and..

Photos Hongos de Chile

the light pine mushroom, callampa del pino clara (Boletus granulatus).

These two mushrooms of northern hemisphere origin are found in plantations of Monterrey Pine in south- central Chile, and were presumably introduced accidently with the trees.  The dark pine mushroom, the most collected Chilean mushroom, produces up to 3 tons per hectare from late fall through early spring.  The light pine produces less and is somewhat earlier.  The two are usually collected and dried together and sold mixed as Callampas. They are widely available in Chile, where supermarkets sell 35 gm (1¼ oz) packages for around 750 pesos ($1.40) and the tostaduria sells 100 gm. for under 1000 pesos $1.85) [6]   Callampas comprise about 90% of Chile’s mushroom exports.[7] 

They can be used in the same was as porcinis or other dried mushrooms:  rehydrated and added to pasta sauce, stews, soups, etc., or see these dried mushroom recipes.  To really appreciate their flavor, try the risotto.  

  

Red Pine Mushroom - Callampa Rosada (Lactarius deliciosus)

This is another introduced mushroom of northern hemisphere origin, and as its scientific name indicates, one of the most desirable. It is found in spring—or as late as June in the far south—in pine plantations.  It is sold fresh or in brine:  If you find any fresh ones in Santiago, please let me know. 

Photo Mercado Calabajío

Black morel, Colmenilla (Morchella conica)

Photo Hongos de Chile

Occasionally while living in Illinois, morel mushrooms would come up in my back yard along a roadway embankment.  They weren’t Morchella conica, but probably were yellow morels.  One way or another they were wonderful and I look forward to finding fresh morels in a Chilean mercado someday.  They are a spring mushroom, found in both pine plantations and native forest, usually in disturbed or burned areas.  They are exported dried, but may occasionally be found in markets in south central Chile—and maybe someday in La Vega.  I’ll be looking.  (And, FYI, morel recipes abound on the web.)

Chicharrón (Gyromitra antarctica)

  

This South American mushroom has no common English name, but a close North American relative is the “false morel.” They occasionally kill people. The Chilean species is said to be of “low toxicity,” and to loose its poisons when well cooked or dried. Dried, it is exported to Europe.  I won’t be trying this one fresh.

Coral fungi, Changle (Ramaria flava)

A fall and winter mushroom of native forests in the Lakes Region of Chile.  They are not exported, but street and market vendors are said to be common in season in Temuco, Pucón, Chillán, Concepción, Temuco and Valdivia.  

 

  

Photos Hongos de Chile

They are eaten in empanadas and in other fresh mushroom preparations. People from the region are enthusiastic about them, based on comments a fellow blogger received about them:

I’m from Coronel and, for your information; there is a señora here who serves a plate of changles for only 500 pesos.  It’s one of the most delicious things you can eat, and I doubt that a chef could give a recipe more attention. Janny

I’ve tried to try as many of the diverse products of this area as possible and one of my favorites is changle simmered with onion, minced chives, a dollop of thick cream and a touch of white wine. ¡Buen provecho !  Yudi

Gargal (Griffola gargal)

A spring mushroom of the pine plantations, the gargal is considered one of the best of Chile’s wild mushrooms.  It is usually sold fresh or in brine. A similar species of the same genus is native to the US where it is called “hen of the woods.”

Photo Hongos de Chile 

Loyo (Boletus loyo)

Photo Macrofungi from Chile

This is a Chilean and Argentinean mushroom of a world-wide genus that includes the Italian porcini.  In Chile it is a late summer and fall mushroom of the native southern forests.  It can grow large, up to three pounds or so and “…due to its delicious, nut-like taste it is traditionally collected and consumed by native Chileans and can be occasionally purchased on local markets during the season.”[8]  I’m looking for this one too.

See reference [9]

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[1] Cisterna Lagos, Carlos D.  2006-07 Explotación de Hongos Silvestres en Chile. (c) Carlos D. Cisterna Lagos, 2006 -2007 On line at http://www.micotec.cl/silvestres1.html

[2] Darwin, Charles.  Voyage of the Beagle, Chapter IX.  The Complete Works of Charles Darwin, on line at http://www.darwin-literature.com/The_Voyage_Of_The_Beagle/12.html  The illustration is from http://darwin-online.org.uk/content/frameset?viewtype=text&itemID=F10.3&pageseq=1

[3] Portal de as culturas originarias de chile Ser Indígena, Gastronomía, Cocina Mapuche on line at http://www.serindigena.cl/index/gastronomia/gastro_mapuche_2.htm. For information on preparing empanadas in the “traditional way” see http://southamericanfood.about.com/od/snacksstreetfood/r/empanadaschile.htm

[4] Cisterna Lagos, op cit.

[5] “Callampa” = mushroom from Quechuan.  The term is also used in Chile for settlements of poor people that “spring up like mushrooms” on the outskirts of citgies. See http://etimologias.dechile.net/?callampa

[6] For comparison, in the US a 1 ¼ oz packet of Chilean dried mushroom costs about $3.50, domestic dried mushrooms cost around $5 and European porcinis, around $9.

[7] Mercado y Comercialización de Productos Forestales No Madreros en Chile, 4.3 Caracterización comercial de los Hongos, on line at http://www.gestionforestal.cl:81/pfnm/mercado/txt/hongos.htm

[8]Palfner, Götz. Boletus loyo.  Macrofungi from Chile on line at http://www.chilefungi.cl/album/bol_loyo.htm

[9] “Plant and mushroom intoxications are an uncommon event, but can seriously compromise those that ingest them. Despite its low incidence, public and medical community education is essential to prevent and manage these intoxications efficiently.”  Manríquez O, Varas J, Ríos JC, Concha F, Paris E. 2002.Analysis of 156 cases of plant intoxication received in the Toxicologic Information Center at Catholic University of Chile. Abstract on line at http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/sites/entrez

Pomaire Pottery/Greda de Pomaire

One of the most important characteristics of Chilean Creole cuisine is its cooking vessels; clay pots from Pomaire. They come in a variety of sizes and shapes, from the classic olla (pot), to casseroles, pitchers, water jars, plates and bowls; they hold heat wonderfully, are said to impart a special flavor to food, are inexpensive, and can be used in the oven or directly over a flame.  A pastel de choclo (corn pie) or paila marina (seafood stew--paila is the earthenware bowl) is almost unimaginable in anything else.[1]

 

Pomaire olla, a Motera grande

Pastel de Choclo

                                         

      Paila marina

Click to enlarge

Pomaire is a village of 10,000 or so, some 35 miles or so SE of Santiago. The village owes its name to Curaca Pomaire, leader of a group of Indians who in 1482 were settled to the north of today’s Pomaire.  In 1583 they were evidently expelled from property of their encomendero,Tomás Pastene, and settled near present day Pomaire as a Pueblo de Indios, and Indian Town.  Such indigenous communities, common in Mexico and Peru but relatively rare in Chile where most rural Indians and mestizos were attached to a hacienda as laborers[2], were used by the conquistadores and their descendants to house Indians displaced from lands the colonists wanted for their own uses.  Evidently this was the case with Pomaire’s Indians.  The village was established in its present location in 1771, and pottery making on a commercial scale evidently started shortly thereafter. [3]

The pottery technology used in Pomaire seems to have been that of the indigenous Mapuche.  Visiting the nearby village of Melipilla in 1822, Englishwoman Maria Graham found that the technology there was the same as she had observed earlier near Valparaiso.  There was…

…no regular manufactory, no division of labour, no machinery, not even the potter's wheel, none of the aids to industry which I had conceived almost indispensable to a trade so artificial as that of making earthenware. At the door of one of the poorest huts, formed merely of branches and covered with long grass, having a hide for a door, sat a family of manufacturers. They were seated on sheep-skins spread under the shade of a little penthouse formed of green boughs, at their work. A mass' of clay ready tempered lay before them, and each person according to age and ability was forming jars, plates, or dishes. The work-people were all women, and I believe that no man condescends to employ himself in this way, that is, in making the small ware: the large wine jars, &c. of Melipilla are made by men.[4]

  

 Great Ovens for baking the Wine Jars, &c. on the Plain of Mellipilla - 1822

While I found no description of the process in Pomaire, Mapuche chief Pascual Coña dictated a description in Life and Customs of the Indigenous Araucanians in the Second part of the XIX Century. 

Some of the old-time women were very skilled in the art of pottery; making various pitchers, jars, pots, plates, cups: all kinds of clay vessels….  When the clay was well mixed a handful was taken to work with.  First a round vessel bottom was formed from the clay.  Then another handful was molded into a strip or “piulo” using the palms of both hands.   When this piulo was long enough it was placed on the round bottom following its circumference, and was pressed into the base with the fingers.  Then a second handful of material was pressed onto the previous strip and the grove between the two piulos was smoothed inside and out.  The later work proceeded in exactly the same way.  According to what they wanted to make, the width, height and form of the vessel were formed.  As they were very experienced in their art, they produced many different shapes.[5]

While the technology seems to have been indigenous, the shapes were largely determined by Spanish taste.  The pieces below, and the one following the first paragraph, above, were made by Teresa Muñoz:

…born in Pomaire in 1915, learned the craft from her grandmother and mother.  She has practiced it since she was 16.  She works in the old style, forming the shapes by hand and repeating the patterns made by her ancestors.  She obtains the clay, already prepared, from the same area. She is one of the few artisans who maintain the tradition in the way she works and in the patterns she follows. [6]

  Paila (bowl)

More of her pieces can be found on line: see Traditional ceramic pieces from Pomaire, Collection of traditional Chilean craftwork, Pontifical Catholic University of Chile.

Today Pomaire is an attractive tourist destination for Santiagueños and visitors, who come on weekends and holidays to window-shop, buy pottery and other handicrafts, and to enjoy the Chilean Creole cuisine.

Dozens of shops line the main street.  Some include artisans demonstrating their work.  Today’s technology includes the wheel, but it remains an artisanal craft.

  

Prices are reasonable.  The casseroles to the right were 3,500 CLP, about $6.50.

  In addition to utilitarinan ware there are figurines, such as these crèche figures.

  

And other, non-religious novelties.

And there is food to take home or eat on the street.

And restaurants serving traditional Chilean Creole cuisine in pleasant shady patios.

But back to the pottery:  it is unglazed earthenware, relatively thick and relative good at even heat distribution.  It can be used in the oven, over a flame or on charcoal, for roasting, sautéing, boiling or simmering, and for serving.  It keeps food warm for a long time.

Many people recommend that you “cure” new pieces; although it is not essential (my wife used her greda for years without curing any). The idea behind curing is to seal the pores of the clay.   Many techniques are recommended, but for pots that will be used for soups, stews, cooking beans, etc., boiling whole milk (preferably fresh from the cow) for 10 minutes or so seems the most common.  Others recommend boiling water with a good dollop of oil or lard added. (I tried this with my new piece, above—seems to have done no harm.) For casseroles, platters, bowls, etc., oiling the surface and then heating for 5 to 10 minutes in a hot oven is recommended.[7]

A few other suggestions:

• For long simmered sauces, etc., that may burn on the bottom, use a heat diffuser 
• Pre-heat casseroles that will be used in the oven for lasagna, baked chicken, etc. or expect to add 10 minutes or so to the cooking time.
• Preheat bowls for serving soups and stews, cazuela, paila marina, etc.
• Cook individual pastel de choclo, shepherd’s pie, mac & cheese, pot pie, etc. in greda bowls.
• Use some caution in adding cold liquids to a hot casserole or immersing one in cold water. Greda is durable, but it’s not cast iron.
• Don’t be overly cautious.  Sauté onions and garlic in the casserole, brown some meat, add wine, vegetables, simmer or pop in the oven. Take to the table and serve out of the pot with crusty bread and more wine. Enjoy. 

 Casuela de ave from a Pomaire restaurant

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[1] Some take-out places sell pastel de choclo in bowls of greda for an extra $1 or so.

[2] Bauer, Arnold J. 1975.  Chilean Rural Society from the Spanish Conquest to 1930.  Cambridge Latin American Series, 21.  Cambridge University Press.  P. 47

[3]  Popular accounts of the early history of Pomaire such as the one published by El Detallista (Pomaire crèche y se proyecta a futuro, on line at http://www.eldetallista.cl/edi71/Vitrina/pomaire.htm) seem to be sanitized, ignoring the circumstances under which Indians were dominated and exploited by the Spanish.  Discussion of the founding of the Pueblo de Indios of Pomaire come from Los Indígenas De Chile Central, Informe Comision Verdad Historica Y Nuevo Trato - 2001- 2003, Vol 1, Part 1, Chapter 2, p 74 on line at http://www.serindigena.org/territorios/recursos/biblioteca/monografias/historia/documentos/2_primera_parte_I_historia_antigua_cap2.htm .

[4] Graham, Maria. 1824. Journal of a Residence in Chile, During the Year 1822.  London: Longman, Hurst, etc. On line at http://www.archive.org/search.php?query=Journal%20of%20a%20residence%20in%20Chile%20AND%20mediatype:texts

[5] Wilhelm de Moesbach, P. Ernesto. 1930 Vida y costumbres de los indígenas araucanos de las segunda mitad del siglo XIX.  Santiago: Imprenta Cervantes P. 216.  My translation of the Spanish translation.  On line at  http://www.memoriachilena.cl/archivos2/pdfs/MC0008879.pdf

[6] 2001 Piezas de alfarería tradicional de Pomaire, ARQ (Santiago)  n.49 Santiago dic. 2001 on line at http://www.scielo.cl/scielo.php?pid=S0717-69962001004900021&script=sci_arttext.

[7] Facebook discussion board, Artesania a domicilio, Cuidados de los pocillos de Greda, on line at http://www.facebook.com/topic.php?uid=95777677776&topic=8172

The Eighteenth: Chilean Independence Day

In Chile “the eighteenth” (September 18),  has the meaning that “the fourth” once did in the US:   patriotism;  nationalism; Chilean unity; military might, the end of winter; and of course, Chilean food and drink. Celebration begins at noon the day before, is stretched over a week, and is lubricated by a bonus given to Chilean workers.  

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Celebrants in the Parque Intercomunal Padre Hurtado

Throughout Chile, parks are turned into fair-grounds with booths selling all that is typically Chilean:  here  hats, ponchos and boots of the Chilean cowboy, the mythic huaso (pronounced “waso”).

And there are rodeos with real huasos (or at least real huasos urbanos) and demonstrations of horsemanship by the military and the national police…

…and games for children.

But the real stars of El Dieciocho are empanadas and chicha.  Empanadas, meat, seafood or cheese-filled pies, are the height of “Chilenidad” and the original Chilean fast food.  They are inexpensive, good, filling and can be eaten out of hand.

 And chicha[1], partially fermented grape juice, is the ideal companion for empanadas.  Fresh, tart and slightly sweet, the best is artisanal, un-filtered, un-pasteurized, and produced from the fall harvest.  Its alcohol level depends on the sugar content of the grapes and the length of fermentation, but it usually seems to be 3 – 5%.

 But once the obligatory empanada and chicha are dealt with, the serious eating and drinking can begin.  By far the most popular foods for the 18^th come from the parrilla, the grill.  High on the list are anticuchos[2], mixed meats and sausages skewered with onions and grilled, and served with a marraqueta – a Chilean French-roll.

And there are chorizos (sausages) served on a split marraqueta, hotdog-style to make a choripan…

 And ribs.

And in the bowls at right, pastel de choclo, literally “corn pie,” with a filling of beef and onions, plus a piece of chicken, hard-boiled egg and an olive.

Plus pigs and lambs, roasted Patagonian style.

And to drink, more chicha, beer, wine, pisco (Chilean brandy), and pipeño (a light sweet wine), plus those Chilean classics, Pepsi and Coke.

Celebration is communal.

And if you still crave something sweet, candy from nearby Mendoza, Argentina.

  

It’s a lot like an old fashioned US celebration of the fourth, but without corn dogs.  

Viva Chile, mierda!

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[1] In South America chicha is a generic term for drinks made of fruit or corn, usually fermented with low levels of alcohol.  In Chile chicha is usually made of grapes, or in the south, apples.  “Cider” is a close English equivalent.

[2] “Anticucho” is from the Quechua for “cut meat stew” see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anticuchos