Culinary historians and food bloggers already are poring over the menus of White House functions to draw conclusions about the First Family's tastes and discern the social and political meaning encoded in their food choices. Rather than the French-named cliches of 40 years ago, they are finding American dishes informed by a global sensibility that draw substance from the farm-to-table movement.
It is my hope that the menu I created for Fiesta Latina, a celebration of Latin American music for 400 guests at the White House this month, will convey that the allure of Latin food is as irresistible as the rhythms that pulled President Obama out of his chair to dance a few steps with Mexican performer Thalia that evening.
Just how I came to be chosen to pull off this feat with two weeks' notice is a mystery. It seems fitting that the news reached me by cellphone at one the most revered sites of Inca civilization, the ruins of their Temple of the Sun at Cusco, a stop on a research trip to the Peruvian Andes.
Two days later, after catching my breath and calming my nerves, I began to focus on the extraordinary opportunity I had been given to present Latin food in its true richness and complexity to an influential audience.
Several goals became clear: I wanted to tell the story of Latin American cooking through its signature flavors and great staple ingredients such as corn, beans, peppers, pork and chocolate. And I wanted to convey some of the national as well as trans-national influences that have shaped it.
I felt it my responsibility to create a menu that would please President and Mrs. Obama and their guests and also convey to future historians the kinds of insights I have found as a scholar of medieval Spanish history in the records of great feasts of earlier times.
And there was an added challenge: I had been asked to produce a menu that could be served entirely as finger food, a departure from my usual, multilayered dishes that require more than two bites for true enjoyment.
Naturally, I found inspiration in my own Cuban heritage, and could not resist including the creamy fresh corn polenta we call tamal en cazuela along with our quintessential feast food, roast pork in a cumin-allspice adobo typical of my family, to be served on crisp malanga chips. The remainder of the menu ranged the region, from Mexico, Central America and the Hispanic Caribbean to Peru, Brazil and Argentina.
I arrived at the White House kitchen three days before the event to find a relatively small space with 12 burners, a grill, a salamander, a very useful steamer and comfortable work surfaces. With cooks from Trinidad, Barbados and El Salvador and a dynamic executive chef, Cristeta "Cris" Comerford, whose Filipino heritage had much in common with my own, I felt right at home.
We quickly achieved a smooth work rhythm, and I soon saw that Cris faced the same kinds of challenges that can arise in any kitchen. When we discovered that we had received fresh pork belly instead of the slab bacon we had ordered, for example, she did not miss a beat. On the spot she taught me how to cure the pork by brining it in a sweet and salty spiced infusion and improvise a smoker out of the steamer to turn it into applewood-smoked bacon.
TARO VS. MALANGA
Convincing her that taro and malanga were not interchangeable for my purposes was something else again. In the end we were able to get the requisite malanga for some of the chips and for the Puerto Rican pasteles (a type of tamal) I served in honor of newly confirmed Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor.
(A warm, charismatic, almost luminous person, Sotomayor proved to be the star of the reception. As for the pasteles, she paid them the ultimate compliment when she said they were as good as her mother's.)
Those three days were filled with unique privileges, including the chance to cook with tomatillos and fennel from Michelle Obama's celebrated White House garden. Even more meaningful were the quiet moments working in the kitchen and feeling the pulse of a real home around me.
There were surprises, too. On the day before the party, I was taken aback to find only Cris in the kitchen. It was Oct. 12, a federal holiday, and most of the staff had the day off. Luckily, my business partner, Clara Chaumont; my niece, pastry chef Krystinne Espinosa, and a friend, Jim Koper, had volunteered to help.
Still, Cris and I did the work of 10 people that day. She peeled malanga, chopped onions, stuffed empanadas, even swept floors and washed pots. Already impressed with her skill, I was filled with admiration for her work ethic and can-do attitude.
While we prepared the savory dishes in the ground-floor kitchen, White House pastry chef Bill Yosses, a friend since his days at New York's Bouley, worked on the desserts in a kitchen the size of a ship's galley one floor above. His patience and precision in redoing a batch of cacao beans that hadn't caramelized properly, for example, and cooking hibiscus syrup to just the right color and thickness gave me enormous confidence.
PERSONAL TOUCH
I was grateful the next day when I saw Bill personally plating all the desserts with a jeweler's eye, lining stately, silver-tiered trays with tropical leaves to make a bed for the chocolate truffles and carefully pouring creamy rice pudding over purple corn compote to make a beautiful design on the small spoons in which we presented the emblematic Peruvian dessert, mazamorra morada. The serving tables were graced, as I had asked, with vases of vividly colored chiles even chubby Peruvian rocotos in lieu of flowers.
Bill, who has a deep knowledge of White House history, had taken me on a tour, explaining the background and significance of each room. On the evening of the party, when I saw my food displayed in the majestic Blue Room and adjoining spaces, I was filled with respect for a caring team of professionals and with joy at being part of history.
It is my hope that the menu I created for Fiesta Latina, a celebration of Latin American music for 400 guests at the White House this month, will convey that the allure of Latin food is as irresistible as the rhythms that pulled President Obama out of his chair to dance a few steps with Mexican performer Thalia that evening.
Just how I came to be chosen to pull off this feat with two weeks' notice is a mystery. It seems fitting that the news reached me by cellphone at one the most revered sites of Inca civilization, the ruins of their Temple of the Sun at Cusco, a stop on a research trip to the Peruvian Andes.
Two days later, after catching my breath and calming my nerves, I began to focus on the extraordinary opportunity I had been given to present Latin food in its true richness and complexity to an influential audience.
Several goals became clear: I wanted to tell the story of Latin American cooking through its signature flavors and great staple ingredients such as corn, beans, peppers, pork and chocolate. And I wanted to convey some of the national as well as trans-national influences that have shaped it.
I felt it my responsibility to create a menu that would please President and Mrs. Obama and their guests and also convey to future historians the kinds of insights I have found as a scholar of medieval Spanish history in the records of great feasts of earlier times.
And there was an added challenge: I had been asked to produce a menu that could be served entirely as finger food, a departure from my usual, multilayered dishes that require more than two bites for true enjoyment.
Naturally, I found inspiration in my own Cuban heritage, and could not resist including the creamy fresh corn polenta we call tamal en cazuela along with our quintessential feast food, roast pork in a cumin-allspice adobo typical of my family, to be served on crisp malanga chips. The remainder of the menu ranged the region, from Mexico, Central America and the Hispanic Caribbean to Peru, Brazil and Argentina.
I arrived at the White House kitchen three days before the event to find a relatively small space with 12 burners, a grill, a salamander, a very useful steamer and comfortable work surfaces. With cooks from Trinidad, Barbados and El Salvador and a dynamic executive chef, Cristeta "Cris" Comerford, whose Filipino heritage had much in common with my own, I felt right at home.
We quickly achieved a smooth work rhythm, and I soon saw that Cris faced the same kinds of challenges that can arise in any kitchen. When we discovered that we had received fresh pork belly instead of the slab bacon we had ordered, for example, she did not miss a beat. On the spot she taught me how to cure the pork by brining it in a sweet and salty spiced infusion and improvise a smoker out of the steamer to turn it into applewood-smoked bacon.
TARO VS. MALANGA
Convincing her that taro and malanga were not interchangeable for my purposes was something else again. In the end we were able to get the requisite malanga for some of the chips and for the Puerto Rican pasteles (a type of tamal) I served in honor of newly confirmed Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor.
(A warm, charismatic, almost luminous person, Sotomayor proved to be the star of the reception. As for the pasteles, she paid them the ultimate compliment when she said they were as good as her mother's.)
Those three days were filled with unique privileges, including the chance to cook with tomatillos and fennel from Michelle Obama's celebrated White House garden. Even more meaningful were the quiet moments working in the kitchen and feeling the pulse of a real home around me.
There were surprises, too. On the day before the party, I was taken aback to find only Cris in the kitchen. It was Oct. 12, a federal holiday, and most of the staff had the day off. Luckily, my business partner, Clara Chaumont; my niece, pastry chef Krystinne Espinosa, and a friend, Jim Koper, had volunteered to help.
Still, Cris and I did the work of 10 people that day. She peeled malanga, chopped onions, stuffed empanadas, even swept floors and washed pots. Already impressed with her skill, I was filled with admiration for her work ethic and can-do attitude.
While we prepared the savory dishes in the ground-floor kitchen, White House pastry chef Bill Yosses, a friend since his days at New York's Bouley, worked on the desserts in a kitchen the size of a ship's galley one floor above. His patience and precision in redoing a batch of cacao beans that hadn't caramelized properly, for example, and cooking hibiscus syrup to just the right color and thickness gave me enormous confidence.
PERSONAL TOUCH
I was grateful the next day when I saw Bill personally plating all the desserts with a jeweler's eye, lining stately, silver-tiered trays with tropical leaves to make a bed for the chocolate truffles and carefully pouring creamy rice pudding over purple corn compote to make a beautiful design on the small spoons in which we presented the emblematic Peruvian dessert, mazamorra morada. The serving tables were graced, as I had asked, with vases of vividly colored chiles even chubby Peruvian rocotos in lieu of flowers.
Bill, who has a deep knowledge of White House history, had taken me on a tour, explaining the background and significance of each room. On the evening of the party, when I saw my food displayed in the majestic Blue Room and adjoining spaces, I was filled with respect for a caring team of professionals and with joy at being part of history.
