There is an Old Friend in my Menu

      I remember hearing a female voice saying: “Pour it in frozen water for it to be scared.” That was one of the weirdest phrases that I could ever hear from my grandmother. All her creepy sayings always came from the kitchen. Maybe because of that, neither cooking is my strongest area nor eating. Although, I must admit that food has been a co protagonist in my life’s screenplay. Like a living character with its own story to tell, food has been animating my existence. The cassava, which is same as yuca in Cuban Spanish, for example, has accompanied me in my lifetime.

   Yuca is a root that has plenty of carbohydrates, but poor in vitamins and minerals. However, it is a delicious dish of many Caribbean and South American countries, including Cuba. In Georgia, Farmer’s Market are always best option to buy yuca, but, also, you can find it, frozen, at stores like Publix, and it still has good quality. If I would share a recipe, it would be this one, named Yuca con Mojo.

 

 Ingredients: 

4 Yucas (cassava roots) chopped

1 Sour (bitter) orange

½ Onion chopped

5 Garlic cloves

½ Cup of Extra virgin Olive Oil

Add salt to taste.

Steps to cook are as follows. Boil the yuca in salted water until it changes its color, maybe, about 35 min. (By the way, my grandma’s phrase means that when yuca do not change its color after boiling for long time, the solution is: “scared it” with freeze water). In the meanwhile, combine the chopped onion, the garlic cloves and the oil in a hot pan until garlic change to a golden color, just before it gets burned. Then drain the yuca and place it in a serving dish. Pour previous sauce over the yuca, and you can garnish with some parsley leaves if you like.

    I was eating yuca puree before I was six months old. When I was born it was a normal practice that babies begin to eat solid food at about three months of age. Now, with all this exclusive breastfeeding thing, babies begin to eat after 6 months old. As a first-time mother I did follow the new rules, and because yuca could be unaffordable for us in our country my kids barely ate yuca puree one or two times as infants. I know it could sound weird because roots can grow easy, but since we have seasonal production and consumption of vegetables and fruits in Cuba, when is yuca harvest time, most part of the harvest goes to hotels and restaurants; people only get a small portion of the harvest and therefore, the demand of it raises. We’ve been in America for three years, and guess what, we still eat yuca. Although, it is easier to get yuca here than in our own country, something else is happening in our home. Hamburgers, broccoli, hot dogs, strawberries, pies, Tostitos, cheese dip, and other kinds of foods are filling our table instead of the old Cuban cuisine. I have always wanted that my kids like yuca, but I have never been able to make them like it. My real concern is that they do not want to eat yuca or other Cuban food even without trying. The food which they share stories with, are so different from mine. It would be sad that at some point in our lives, we cannot share the same memories about food. 

   Eating yuca is easy and cooking too, but my very first time making a yuca dish was a fiasco. I was just married and happy to be making dinner for my husband. I wanted to surprise him with a delicious recipe which included yuca. As I shared before, basic steps to cook yuca is boiling it in water until it changes its color, and then, to add salt and oil while it is boiling. Well, I followed the steps but not entirely right. I added too much salt, and the result was a husband making silly faces when he tried the first bite. All I can say on my behalf is that after 12 years of practicing, I am good at cooking yuca (better late than never). 

Cuban family eating Caldoza

In Cuba, we eat yuca mainly at holidays parties, but in different ways. For example, for Christmas Eve and New Year Eve, we eat Yuca con mojo. Next day of each holiday we fry spare yuca and then we eat them as snacks. It is delicious. There is another national festivity in which we make a large broth for all the neighborhood, and, yuca goes in the big casserole along with other vegetables and pork body parts. We call this meal Caldoza. I must confess that nobody could make me eat that kind of food, or at least I used to think in that way, until one day came. I was in a Bible Camp working as a Bible teacher. It was in a very small town. All people there were very kind and social, but also, in those days, there was not many foods to eat. Therefore, Caldoza was the best option to feed a group of one hundred fifty adults and kids. I remember the first day when I was waiting at lunch and they served me a deep dish full of Caldoza. A pork bone and a piece of corn cob were swimming in a yellow and greasy broth along with other vegetables including yuca. I could not avoid the expression of disgust on my face.

   “What is wrong?” asked the boy next to me.

   “I can’t eat this,” I answered. “Just the smell it makes me sick.”

   “Well, I used to be the same,” said the boy while wiping his plate with a little piece of bread.

   “But you almost have finished.” 

   “That is because I have found the key,” and then, he ate that piece of bread in one mouthful.

   “Please, share it with me.” I said desperately.

   “You will need a piece of bread, a half of lemon, and a long of hunger.”

   “Well,” I said, “thank you for sharing. Now, do you want my lunch?”

   “Sure!” He exclaimed.

   I didn’t eat my lunch hoping dinner will be coming soon. Then dinner came and Caldoza with it again. If you suppose that I ran looking everywhere for a piece of bread and a half of lemon, then, you are right. After three days, eating Caldoza for lunch and dinner, I returned to my home like a different person. At least I felt that way. After that, I kept eating any kind of soup with a piece of bread and a half of lemon, and, I still remember my little hero too.

   Yuca has also been a reason for fights. Picture this. The aroma of food filling the dining room, and everybody waiting for the last twelve strokes. Some people talk and make jokes, other, are just sleepy, and some of them are focusing in a certain dish on the table. Apparently forgotten, there is, the last one, floating in olive oil, topped with garlic and onions. A lonely and still creamy yuca is being hunted by three pair of eyes. Suddenly, someone got it from the table toward his plate with lightning speed. He is the lucky one, because, to welcome a New Year with the taste of Yuca con Mojo in your mouth it is like beginning with the right foot. At least, that was the thinking in my house 30 years ago. What about now? Only the old people enjoy this yuca-hunting at parties. My kids only fight for fried potatoes. 

   I must add, yuca is not just a meal, it is more than that, at least for my generation and generations before. It has even become part of Cuban music. There is a funny song, popularized by Benny More, a Cuban singer which told the story of a fool who wants to marry. The title of the song is “El Bobo de la Yuca” (the fool of the yuca). My grandfather used to sing that song in such a way that I am smiling while I write this. My kids didn’t get to know him, neither that song. 

   After this review of my reasons to believe that what we eat accompanies us, in joy and sorrows, like good friends do, I have noticed that maybe I am the last generation who likes yuca. Maybe, my kids will never know the meaning of that weird phrase of my grandmother. I feel sad, but at the same time I recognize that they are different persons with different stories which means a bunch of memories like mine, and that matters. What is our common factor? We all share stories with food. We all have friends in the Menu.  

"Yuca Frita con Chicharron"by Ron Dollete is licensed under CC BY-ND 2.0

"Barrio Tirso Diaz, Santa Clara, Cuba. 2019"by lezumbalaberenjena is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0