Contrary to conventional wisdom, at this time of year when the garden is in a headlong rush to produce fruits, and you can almost watch the plants as they extend their sinewy tendrils into the air like a group of octopi doing the wave, it’s sometimes hard to know what to do with it all. This is a peculiar problem for us since hitherto we’ve been limited to the cultivation of one basil plant, one of chives, a miserable-looking tarragon, and a solitary pepper plant in pots on our fire escape, so were limited to harvesting only as much as wouldn’t kill the plant at any one time. In this context, the occasion of the annual pepper (singular) ripening was celebrated with champagne and confetti.

This year, while hardly drowning in produce, we’re finding that the gathering of some 20 or more cherry tomatoes several times a week, a glut of dark green basil and some of the most profoundly-flavored parsley we’ve ever tasted is presenting us with a conundrum: do we actually want to eat tomato and basil salad three or four times a week? Sure, we could be more imaginative, and if they were reading these lines, there would likely be a host of city-based food bloggers gnashing their teeth at our stupidity, but I am reminded of summers as a child when my grandfather’s garden would yield about nine tons of green beans during July and we’d be eating the damn things, steamed or blanched, morning, noon and night for a six weeks.

I almost feel like being deliberately controversial here and suggesting that this frustration with having to eat seasonally since the dawn of time is why we shouldn’t be so damning of the range of options offered to year-round us by the modern agro-food system. However, knowing full-well that would generate negativity among readers, as well as being more or less against our own ethos of attempting to tread lightly carbon-wise, not to mention foolishly contradicting the implicit healthiness of this practice that kept my granddad enjoying one-too many lunchtime sherries well into his nineties, I’ll keep it to myself.

Ever up for a challenge though, and, frankly, feeling rather bloody-minded, I tackled the issue of why eating seasonally can be boring head-on this weekend, and, making use of a particularly ripe pound of tomatoes, I made a kind of summery puttanesca, constituting a refreshing change from the raw fruit, but instead of stopping there and letting the seasonal flavors speak for themselves as we have been taught to do, I decided to pair the whole thing with some lascivious pork belly. I say lascivious because, even considering puttanesca’s origins among the evening workers of Naples, there’s something that makes you feel inherently guilty about pairing a fresh, organic sauce with about the richest most unctuous part of the pig.

Pan frying the slices of pork belly in its own fat, before using that fat as the base for my sauce, and deep frying the cracklins just for kicks, this was a dish to break any kind of kitchen monotony you’re experiencing, at virtually any time of year. We don’t eat a lot of pork belly and its measured use is kind of the key to remaining alive and vertical, but it does add a certain something that is literally unavailable from anything else, with the possible exception of guanciale. Indeed, had I not been frazzled by the heat and had pounds of fresh tomatoes weighing down on my brain, I would have used guanciale and turned this whole thing somewhere between puttanesca and al’amatriciana . However, I’m pretty happy that I didn’t, the briny, assertive character of the capers kept the belly’s richness somehow balanced, as did the acidity of the fresh tomatoes that might not have been present out of a can. In fact, I might consider eating seasonally more often if it meant I could dine in this kind of style.

While Queens may have the reputation for being the most ethnically diverse area in the United States, our very own borough of Brooklyn is certainly not bereft of global flavors. From the side-by-side Mexican and Chinese neighborhoods of Sunset Park to the century-old Italian areas of Carroll Gardens and Bay Ridge, to the more recently established Caribbean community of Crown Heights, there is rather more than a smattering of diverse flavors available to the curious epicure. Even gentrified Park Slope and Prospect Heights reflect the enduring presence of their Puerto Rican and Dominican populations with a wide selection of places offering “Spanish food”, a phenomenon which took me a while to decipher as it certainly isn’t Spanish in the European sense.

Dishes typical of Spanish-speaking countries, especially those ringing the Caribbean, but which also may be derived from actual Iberian cooking — known predominantly on the east coast as Spanish, or Spanish American — it’s basically a catch-all term that to me connotes delicious, often with tropical ingredients, but always complex and filling food. We’ve made mention of several of these neighborhood eateries in several previous posts – El Viejo Yayo, Los Pollitos, Bogota among them – but our most recent crush is on the wonderful Windsor Terrace institution, Elora’s.

Serving Mexican and Spanish food, whereby you can select from the greatest hits of Mexico as well as these Spanish-speaking Caribbean classics, Elora’s serves all these in such volume that one dish could easily feed a hungry family of four. And it is perhaps because of this, and their consequently narrow profit margins, that our regular server at Elora’s should, by rights, be enjoying the benefits of a comfortable retirement.

Pushing 80 years old, Don Nicolas is without doubt the oldest but also the most charming and interesting waiter we have ever had the good fortune to be served by. Born to Sicilian immigrant parents in Buenos Aires, Argentina, and trained as a tango and opera singer, it is his daughter for whom the restaurant is named. His musical career spanned several decades and took him the length and breadth of the Americas, before he retired from singing, settled in Brooklyn and went into the restaurant business with his marital family.

On our most recent visit while we waited for our heavily-laden plates to arrive, Don Nicolas was explaining to us the secret of his youthfulness – “if I stop moving, I become stiff and I might not get started again! When you are young you don’t think about these things and spend all your time on the couch!” Indeed, many less energetic thirty somethings might have struggled with the amount of food he was charged with lugging from the kitchen. But manage he did, depositing immoderate orders of pernil, bistec encebollado and chicharrones de pollo on our table before returning spritely with sides of beans, rice, and tostones. Still not done, he surveyed the table and in a trice was back with a deep bowl of raw garlic in oil. “Prefieren un poco de salsa de ajo por su tostones, no?” (you’d like a little garlic sauce for your plantains, right?), he asked.

When we congratulated Don Nicolas on his fitness and asked if his health is reflection of his restaurant’s hearty fare, he responded diplomatically that he enjoyed the beans and rice and the pollo guisado (stewed chicken) most weeks, but found the Mexican dishes to be too hot for his Argentine tastes. “No tenemos alimento picante en Argentina,” (we don’t have spicy food where I come from.) he explained.

In fact, chicharrones de pollo, deep fried chicken, or more accurately translated as chicken cracklins’, are a popular Dominican dish, sometimes also claimed by Puerto Ricans as their own — we’ll leave it to them to fight over where it truly originated — in which chunks of chicken are marinaded for a lengthy period in adobe, lime juice, rum and either soy sauce or worcestershire sauce before being lightly dusted in corn starch and tossed into hot oil. If you like fried chicken (and those who don’t must ask themselves some searching questions) then you should try this recipe. It goes perfectly well with the tostones we had at Elora’s or the beans and rice we prepared more recently, but it is just as good on its own with a jigger of hot sauce and a cold bottle of Presidente Dominican beer. And, sure, it won’t necessarily help you live well into your 80s, but it will make the next couple of hours more enjoyable.

TORTILLA SOUP (feeds 4)

• 1 hot pepper (cayanne, scotch bonnet, jalapeno, etc.), thinly sliced
• 3 cloves of garlic, diced
• 1 onion, thinly diced
• 1 teaspoon of chipotle seasoning powder
• 4 cups of chicken stock
• 2 cans of spanish tomato sauce (I prefer Goya’s brand)
• 1 large piece of skinless, boneless chicken, boiled in hot water for 10 minutes, cooled and then shredded
• big palm-full of cilantro
• juice of one lime
• 2 sliced scallion
• 4 corn tortillas (can use flour), thinly sliced into strips and deep fried for 2-3 minutes till golden brown ***NOTE: You can cheat and buy a good brand of tortilla chips if you really have to
• GARNISH: extra cilantro, a dollop of sour cream, diced avocado, sliced green olives (optional), some shredded cheese (I prefer Mexican cotija if you can get your hands on it).

What to do:
+ + =

1. Boil some water (or use chicken stock) and boil your large piece of skinless, boneless chicken until cooked – about 10 minutes (depends on thickness). Cut in half to check if it’s done. If it’s not, throw it in the boiling water/stock for a few more minutes. Take out to cool.
2. Heat up your chicken stock or if using the same chicken stock your boneless chicken cooked in, make sure it stays warm (and that you have enough!).
3. Heat up a big soup pot to medium and heat up some olive oil. Add your garlic and onion and cook till medium-soft. Add your diced hot pepper and allow to heat for another minute or two to soften a bit.
4. Add your teaspoon of chipotle seasoning powder to the onions, garlic and hot peppers and stir around for a few seconds, releasing the flavor.
5. Add your chicken stock and stir.
6. Add your Spicy Spanish Tomato Sauce cans and stir.
7. Squeeze a bit of lime in the mixture, throw the palmful of cilantro in and allow the soup to simmer for about 20 minutes.
8. **OPTIONAL STEP – Feel free to use some store-bought tortilla chips if you really dont’ have the time/means to make homemade ones, but you know how I feel about it! It tastes better w/ the homemade kind.*** Meanwhile, heat up some veggie oil in another pot. Using corn or flour tortillas (I prefer corn for this), thinly slice up some up so that each long slice is about 1/2 and inch wide. As soon as the veggie oil is hot, throw in your slices and fry till golden brown. When done, remove with slotted spoon and allow to drain on some paper towels. Sprinkle with some salt and a small bit more of the chipotle powder.
9. Now that the chicken is cooled, shred the piece into many bits for the soup.
10. Assemble your bowls by adding some of the topping ingredients in the BOTTOM of the bowl. Add some (only a bit!) tortilla strips to the bottom, enough shredded chicken to satisfy, a small dollop of sour cream, some cilantro, a bit of diced avocado, scallions, optional sliced green olives and cheese.
11. Spoon some of the reduced soup into your bowl over the toppings.
12. Add one more squeeze of lime to each bowl and then your final garnishes on top (more tortilla strips, scallions, bit of cheese, cilantro, avocado and another dollop of sour cream). Enjoy this comforting bowl of hearty, spicy soup!

CHECK OUT SOME OTHER POSTS YOU MAY ENJOY:

• CLAMS WITH WHITE WINE AND CHORIZO
• SQUID WITH GOLDEN POTATOES
• BRAISED PORK CHOPS WITH LIME AND OLIVES
• ROASTED PORK SHOULDER (Pernil) – The Quicker Version
• ROASTED PORK SHOULDER (Pernil) – The Low and Slow Method

The recipe is actually one of my originals, although I’m sure there are others out there with similar ingredients. I was probably influenced in my choice of ingredients by Daisy Martinez who uses alcaparrado with virtually everything, and by my version of Lidia Bastianich’s method for braised lamb chops, but I am proud to say that this recipe and its accompaniments are mine, all mine (evil laugh).

So here’s the deal:

Braised Pork-Chops with Lime and Olives

Ingredients:

• 2-4 large pork shoulder chops
• 2oz plain flour
• 1/2 large onion, thinly sliced
• 3 large cloves garlic, thinly sliced
• 1/2 hot jamaican pepper/habanero, finely chopped
• 4tbsp alcaparrado (pickled capers, olives and pimentos) chopped roughly
• 1 cup of no salt added chicken stock
• 2tbsp olive oil
• juice of 1/2 lime + 2tbsp sour orange (naranja agria) juice
• 1tbsp cilantro (leaves and stalks), finely chopped
• salt and black pepper to taste
• sliced avocado (garnish)

Mashed Yuca with Sour Orange and Allspice

• 1 large yuca or cassava, peeled and chopped into 1 inch chunks
• 4 pints boiling, salted water
• 3tbsp olive oil
• juice of 1 large lime
• 3-4 large allspice berries, finely ground or 3 tsp allspice
• 6 tbsp sour orange (naranja agria) juice
• black pepper to taste

Recipe:

Add the yuca to the boiling water, bring it back to a boil, cover with a lid and lower heat to medium.

Heat skillet to medium high and flour pork chops. Shake off excess, add half oil to pan and then add chops to pan. Brown on both sides – 4-5 mins/side. Remove chops to a plate, add rest of oil and put start sauteeing onions.

As onions start to brown, add garlic, chilli and alcaparrado. Cook for no more than two minutes before re-adding the chops. Turn up the heat to high and add enough stock to almost cover, but not quite, your chops. Stir and cover. When liquid boils, reduce heat and simmer for twenty minutes.

After the yucca has been boiling for thirty minutes, test it for softness with a knife. Just like potatoes, if yucca slips off knife, it’s done. If not, keep cooking until it does. Drain done yucca and put back in pan with olive oil. Mash like crazy until yucca is smooth and difficult to mash more. Add allspice, lime juice and sour orange and stir in. Correct seasoning and add chopped cilantro just before serving.

After twenty minutes, remove the lid from the chop pan and add lime and sour orange juice. Reduce liquid to about half of original and add cilantro. Correct seasoning and serve on a bed of the mashed yucca.

CHECK OUT SOME OF THESE OTHER POSTS YOU MAY ENJOY: 

• KOREAN-STYLE PORK RIBS IN PRESSURE COOKER
• ROASTED PORK SHOULDER (Pernil) – The Quicker Version
• TOAD-IN-THE-HOLE (Sausages Nested in Batter)
• WINE-BRAISED LAMB SHANKS WITH ROSEMARY AND THYME IN PRESSURE COOKER