Gold Rush - Chinese & French Restaurants in Saigon & San Francisco -- an article review

 

Photo source:  Wall Street Journal

“Cosmopolitan Cuisine.  Chinese and French Restaurants in Saigon and San Francisco, 1850-1910”

 Author: Erica J. Peters

Source: Ethnologie française , Janvier 2014, T. 44, No. 1, RESTAURANTS EN VILLE (Janvier 2014), pp. 29-36

Published by: Presses Universitaires de France

This article contrasts and compares the opportunities and challenges faced by both Chinese and French restaurants in Saigon and San Francisco during the last half of the 19^th century.  It points out that the people running these restaurants were often immigrants and that running a restaurant in a new country had certain advantages:

When immigrants come to a new country, they often find the restaurant business is very appealing. It is a business that also allows one to feed one’s family; restaurants thrive on the cheap unskilled labor that an immigrant family can provide, and running a restaurant does not require much in the way of language skills.  Immigrants can also use their connections back home to help supply food products with a unique appeal. These ingredients are not local, so they have a particular cachet - both as a taste of home for ones compatriots and as a taste of the exotic, for locals or immigrants from other countries who might be tempted to come try your restaurant. The same goes for the immigrant’s style of food preparation - it works both as a taste of home for people of the same background, and as a taste of the exotic for everyone else. (pg. 29)

My interest is in the restaurants in San Francisco, so that is what I will focus on.  The article continues by pointing out:

Throughout the nineteenth century, hard times in China pushed many Chinese to leave the country. … Still other Chinese traveled across the Pacific Ocean to San Francisco to take advantage of the 1849 California Gold Rush, until the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 obstructed that path. In these cities on opposite sides of the Pacific, Saigon and San Francisco, Chinese people (mostly Cantonese) set up fine Chinese restaurants and banquet halls to meet the needs of their community and reach out to clientele from other ethnicities as well. Other Cantonese entrepreneurs opened low-end eateries, offering hungry workers a cheap meal. French people were also drawn by the California Gold Rush, and many set up restaurants in San Francisco. Like the Chinese, they initially hoped to "mine" the miners - to make money from those seeking gold. Over time they catered to the growing city, offering an upscale alternative to the local chop houses, informal restaurants serving steaks and chops. French restaurateurs in San Francisco relied on France’s international reputation for magnificent cuisine. (pgs. 29-30)

 The section on Chinese restaurants in San Francisco notes that when the Gold Rush began, “almost all restaurants in San Francisco were run by Chinese immigrants, serving Western-style chops and steaks alongside fricassees and various hashes.” (pg. 32)  These were mostly Cantonese who “managed a wide range of restaurants, from the low-end, serving day workers for just a few cents, to a middle level, offering more meat and more variety for salaried workers, to very expensive banquet halls, for special occasions or for tourists.” (pg 32)

 The restaurants were often distinctive in their architectural and decorative styles, especially the more upscale (and so expensive) ones. 

Many Chinese workers in San Francisco could not afford to eat at these restaurants. Like in Saigon, the poorest workers would simply buy some nuts, a bun, or a bowl of soup from a street vendor when they had earned some coins or could get credit. Or they might pop into the corner grocery: Chinese grocers often had an open kitchen where customers could prepare their small purchases into a meal, topping a bowl of rice with some stir-fried vegetables, pork or fish, and a little lard, pickled vegetables, and sauce. (pg.32)

 But what really caught my attention was the very detailed description of an upscale meal: 

The apex of the Chinese restaurant experience cost two to ten dollars a head and went on for hours. First, gilt-edged invitations went out, announcing that "a slight repast awaits the light of the guests’ presence". When guests arrived, they gathered in an outer room, enjoying tea and cigars. …  Place settings included a stack of tiny plates, a small bowl, a porcelain spoon, ivory chopsticks, and two large metal cups, one holding a pint of hot tea, the other a pint of rose-scented rice liquor. A soup tureen sat on the table with other appetizers around it, including cucumber and celery salads, pickled duck, ginger, eggs, and melon-seeds, as well as salted almonds and other nuts. Many were finger foods, and "circular wafers, about two inches in diameter, [were] often used to envelop mouthfuls of food.” 

… 

[Guests were served] fried sharks fin and grated ham; stewed pigeon with bamboo sprouts... boned duck with nuts, pearl barley, and mushrooms... bamboo soup... banana fritters, and birds-nest soup... There are also other dishes which cost up to a dollar a mouthful... Each dish is served cut and minced in quart bowls, many of which are silver-plated and provided with a metal heater in the centre, filled with coals to keep the food warm. 

Other courses might include terrapin with onion and water chestnuts; mushrooms with hundred-layer leek, Chinese quail, skewered chicken hearts, rice soup, stewed mutton, roast duck, and mince pies; followed by a succession of fancy dishes, such as "delicate cakes [...] in the form of birds or flowers" and jellies designed to look like fresh oranges, until you saw the rainbow inside. (pg 33) 

Other descriptions include: 

In another dish, roast ham was prepared so as to resemble the halves of dried peaches, with the fat on one side and the lean on the other - a very palatable dish. 

Among the best was a species of muffin, the outside of which peeled off like the rind of an orange, and revealed a succession of delicate layers... like the unopened leaves in a rosebud. 

One of the choicest delicacies on the table was a bulbous succulent root, imported from China, called water chestnuts. They have the flavor of our chestnuts and Jerusalem artichokes combined, are snowy white, and crisp... as a very tender radish. (pg 33)

The article notes that, as anti-Chinese sentiment increased in San Francisco, other types of restaurants gained popularity.  It wasn’t until the turn of the twentieth century that eating Chinese food became popular again, due to the rise of the chop suey houses. 

The article then puts its focus on French restaurants in San Francisco, the first of which opened in May, 1849.  It notes that most French people who came during the Gold Rush hailed from southern France and brought their food traditions with them.  This means classics like bouillabaisse, which benefited from San Francisco’s abundant seafood sources.  The restauranteurs emphasized their continental heritage and took advantage of the good reputation French cooking already had. 

For example, 

At a midrange French restaurant, the prix-fixe menu might cost two dollars, and the customer would get soup, a fish course, some simple appetizers (such as pickled beets, stuffed mushrooms, or a bean and tomato salad), then the main course (often a roast), then dessert or fruit, with wine to accompany the meal and coffee to round it off. (pg 34) 

I find this article helpful due to the detailed descriptions of the available foodstuffs and menus, and its insight into why so many immigrants started restaurants.  I hope I can find recipes for some of the dishes.  

Railroads - Food Politics of Alliance in a California Frontier Chinatown, an article summary

 

Food Politics of Alliance ina California Frontier Chinatown

Author(s): Charlotte K. Sunseri

Source: International Journal of Historical Archaeology , June 2015, Vol. 19, No. 2 (June 2015), pp. 416-431

Published by: Springer

Article Summary

This article’s focus is on how Chinese and Native Americans who lived in the town of Mono Mills, California during the post-Gold Rush era (1880-1917) may have interacted.  It cites archaeological evidence that suggests these two communities shared foodstuffs as well as preparation items.

My interest is in the documentation of the foodstuffs available to people at the time.

Pages 421 – 423 list items that were associated with households in Chinatown:

·         “a large cache of over a hundred pine nuts …  acquired from … local pinyon, shelled, and parched for household consumption”

·         “several items likely acquired from the company general store, including canned fruit and bottles of medicine and beverages”

·         “brown stoneware vessels used to store cooking ingredients”

·         “cuttlefish and vertebrate faunal remains”

o   “dominant meats consumed were cuts of beef and pork, waterfowl, chickens, and fish”, along with sheep/goats and rabbits/hares

o   “These were supplemented with locally available wild game, fowl, and fish”

·         “Nga Hu and Tsao Tsun stoneware vessels traditionally used to transport and store soy sauce, black vinegar, peanut oil, and liquor used for cooking and drinking”

·         “Fut How Nga Peng vessels, traditionally associated with tofu, sweet bean paste, beans, pickled vegetables, shrimp paste, sugar, and condiments”

The specific cuts of meat were identified:

The beef cuts evident at the site include costly short loin, sirloin, and ribs and less-expensive short ribs and fore- and hindshanks. … Pork-based dishes likely included pork loins and hams as well as spare ribs and dishes flavored with pigs' feet…

There was speculation on how the meat was acquired:

Research team transcriptions of ledger records from a local supplier at the Hammond Station store suggest that local ranchers and butchers could have supplied much domestic stock to Mono Mills’ kitchens. However, evidence of powered saw marks far outnumber those chop and handsaw patterns that might be expected from cottage industry butchery operations.... These marks suggest that national, railroad-based chains of supply and centralized redistribution from larger processing centers factored larger in provisioning the camp.

The article points out how the presence of the pine nuts was an indicator of possible interaction between the Chinese and the Mono Lake Kutzadika’a Paiute:

The presence of locally available pine nuts is interesting in the Chinatown household, given that the sale of pine nuts is widely believed to be a main source of income for Paiute households during the historic era … as well as a primary food supply during the winter… Further, this household's use of this ingredient is an outlier, as many other studies of Chinatown households across the West do not mention the presence of pine nuts…

Interestingly, too, are the utensils that indicate the Chinese may have had more interaction with the Paiute people.  Glass flakes that were knapped like obsidian to give them a cutting edge were found.

Not only do these artifacts reflect smaller scales of expert labor, but they also suggest an intimacy between neighborhood practitioners that extended to experimentation with materials, as hinted at by an in-process button blank of obsidian at the Chinatown cabin ... Could it be that Kutzadika'a master flintknappers were sharing their familiar obsidians with new neighbors?

The exchange appeared to go the other way, too: “the nearby Paiute neighborhood also contained Chinese-made ceramics, including a porcelain flat-bottom spoon with Four Flowers design”.  The picture above of the woven reed spoon shows a similarity to this design and alludes to “culinary performances familiar to both communities where such shallow implement styles would be at home.” (pg 324)

In fact, the author found this story recounted by a railroad superintendent (pg 425):

[A] Chinese boarding house cook named Tim was fired after feeding boarders squirrel stew daily in place of the quality beef cuts that he stole and gave as gifts to his Paiute friends.

This article brings a dimension of California food history that I had not expected to find – documentation of interactions between a Chinese community and its Paiute neighbors.  It points out that such exchanges may have been beneficial beyond mere caloric consumption.  During that time period in California history there was a strong anti-Chinese and anti-Indian sentiment and such ties may have may have strengthened and protected both groups against it. 

Gold Rush - Food in San Francisco, an article summary

I found this fascinating article by Charles Lockwood, “Tourists in Gold Rush San Francisco”, published in the journal:  California History , Winter, 1980/1981, Vol. 59, No. 4 (Winter,1980/1981), pp. 314-333

Mr. Lockwood begins by describing what visitors to 1849 San Francisco had to endure while traveling there from the East:  either they took the Panama route, which had bad weather, illness, and poor accommodations, or they sailed around Cape Horn, which wasn’t quite as bad, though they could encounter storms, but it took six months.

Once there, they saw a city that looked “jumbled” because it consisted mostly of tents and shelters made of wood frames covered in cloth.  It was crowded, bustling with activity, and populated primarily by men.  The streets were unpaved and often muddy.  Garbage and filth were common – people often tossed their trash into the mud to make the streets at least a little easier to traverse. 

Lodging was difficult to obtain, rudimentary, and expensive.  Men sometimes slept six and eight to a room.  They might have a mattress on the floor, with only a blanket to cover them.  The more fortunate had a bed on a frame and maybe even other furniture.

The population of San Francisco was growing with so many who imagined striking it rich in the gold fields, and it was diverse:

The men who filled the streets had come from the four corners of the world. In fact, Vicente Perez Rosales, a native of Santiago, Chile, who landed in February, 1849, thought that it looked as if the "many transients might have been thought to be celebrating a vast and noisy masquerade ball, such were their exotic costumes, their language, and the very nature of their occupations." (page 318)

Page 323 gives us a good idea how this diversity translated into what was available to eat:

In 1849 restaurants had opened in every part of town and served food of every imaginable nationality. "There were cooks, too, from every country," recalled the Annals, "American, English, French, German, Dutch, Chinese, Chileno, Kanaka, Italian, Peruvian, Mexican, Negro, and what not."

Chinese restaurants were particularly numerous. Englishman J.D. Borthwick didn't like the appearance of the "dried fish, dried ducks, and other very nasty looking Chinese eatables," but he admitted that "rats were not so numerous here as elsewhere."

There were American style restaurants everywhere, and Englishman Borthwick saw regional variations in their meals. At some American style restaurants "those who delighted in corn-bread, buckwheat cakes, pickles, grease, molasses, apple sauce, pumpkin pie, could gratify their taste to the fullest extent."

Food was expensive.  Mr. Lockwood tells us, “The food was good, and there was plenty to eat, but the prices were astronomical by East Coast standards.”  For example, “The Bill of Fare at the Ward House for December 27, 1849 offered roast beef, lamb, mutton, and pork for $1.00 a serving, a limited selection of vegetables for fifty cents, baked trout for $1.50, and desserts such as bread pudding or apple pie for seventy five cents.” 

Also, “Dinner with wine in one of the finest establishments cost $5 to $12 at the height of the Gold Rush, while a meal in one of the ordinary restaurants ran $1 to $3. Restaurant food was generally as good as that served in hotel dining rooms.”  (pg 323)  One visitor at a hotel ordered “Lobster with mayonnaise, a roast chicken, a few slices of cold meat, and several bottles of fairly good Bordeaux…” (pg 322)

He notes that:

During the Gold Rush, most guests were satisfied with hotel food even though the meals lacked variety, because many items were just unavailable. Potatoes, for example, were quite scarce in 1849, and restaurants charged a quarter for one the size of a walnut. But there were plenty of men eager to pay even this inflated charge. The Annals declared that "it was no uncommon thing to see posted at the door of an eating-house, as an inducement for the hungry to enter, the announcement, 'Potatoes to-day,' or 'Potatoes at every meal'."

…

Serving meals like those in 1849 took all the imagination of the hotel manager. Almost no one wanted to farm or fish when there were fortunes to be made digging for gold. John Henry Brown recalled that it was "very difficult to keep up the boarding department" and that I "would have failed entirely had it not been for the fact that I was personally acquainted with the captains of vessels, and consequently had an opportunity of procuring from them a portion of what they had for the use of their ships." Every time a ship sailed for Oregon, Brown ordered butter, ham, bacon, eggs, "or anything I could obtain in the way of provisions." An old man, named Herman, brought him fresh vegetables such as cabbages, lettuce, carrots, and turnips. "These he brought daily; I had to pay him fifteen to twenty dollars per day," wrote Brown. "Another item of considerable expense to me, was the hiring of two hunters and a whale boat to go off up the creeks after game; they would make two trips per week and, were usually very successful."  (pg 323)

Cleanliness was an issue, and sometimes people ate foods that were of an indeterminate nature:

Some restaurants occupied canvas tents and served sand to customers along with beefsteak and coffee. "It can readily be discerned," declared the Annals, "that, from want of the necessary apparatus and room for cooking, the inexperienced and indifferent character of the men employed as cooks, and the immense number of persons daily to be served in the most of these places, the greatest cleanliness was not generally observed, and that very many devoured food of the precise character of which it was quite as well that they were kept in ignorance." (pg 323)

Mr. Lockwood points out that these aspects of 1849 San Francisco did not last:

By 1851 the price of food had dropped to reasonable levels, and there was quite a variety available, too. Many men who had left farms to come to California to dig for gold now returned to the soil and were supplying the city with milk, eggs, and vegetables. Others were fishing or hunting for a living. "The market was well supplied with every description of game -- venison, elk, antelope, grizzly bear, and an infinite variety of wildfowl," reported J.D. Borthwick. Now there were dozens of restaurants in San Francisco, and some had pretensions to haut cuisine and elegance. San Franciscans were proud that their city had reached such a level of refinement so quickly.  (pg 326)

I appreciate the insight this article brings on the foodstuffs available during 1849-1851 San Francisco and a little on how they were prepared.  The diversity of people but also the quantity of people influenced the availability, the cost, and the variety.  I look forward to finding other sources that might bring a different viewpoint, perhaps by people of other cultures.  Recipes would be nice, too!

Ranchos - Tamales al Vapor, part 2 (masa, assembly, and finale), a Pinedo recipe

In the previous post (click here to see it), guest cook NH and I made the sauce and filling (stew) for Miss Pinedo's Tamales al Vapor, Steamed Tamales.  In this post, we make the masa and assemble the tamale.  Finally, we cook and taste it.

We returned to this recipe for beef tamales to get instruction on making the masa.

My translation

We focused on the instructions:

The corn paste is whipped with the meat broth, adding more fat, salt and one or two tablespoons of yeast powder if you like.

The paste must be beaten well before making the tamales.

Yeast powder is baking powder, and I chose not to use it.

In other recipes, Miss Pinedo notes that beating the masa a long time, "until it blisters" or has bubbles pop on the surface, makes a more tender masa.  The goal is to have a very smooth mixture that is not sticky or greasy.

The bag of masa or finely ground nixtamalized corn that I purchased suggested the ratios to work with.  We used 

4 cups masa flour

3 cups broth the chicken meat was parboiled in

about 1/2 cup melted vegetable shortening

about 1/2 teaspoon salt

First the flour and broth were put in the mixer.  The broth was splashed in and mixed a little at a time, turning the mixer on and off as needed to mix without kicking the flour out of the bowl.  Once the flour was moist enough to start holding together, the mixer was left on.  The shortening was melted and the salt was added to it.  This was beaten into the flour mixture in small amounts.  I stopped adding it when the whole mixture came together and felt smooth and not sticky.

Note:  I think the salt should have been added to the flour mixture before the shortening was added.  The bag said to put it into the melted fat but since salt doesn't dissolve in fat, it was hard to get it out of the pan.

Then I left the mixer running for another 5 minutes or so.  I didn't see blisters but the masa looked fluffy.

(Later note:  I made more masa, used about 3/4 cup shortening, and got a better result when I steamed the tamales.  More shortening seemed to hold more air in the mixture and the longer beating helped get that air into it.)

Now we were ready to use the main recipe on page 163:  The Latest Novelty!

My translation

Not everyone has a pudding mold on hand in their kitchen.  Not even me!  This is what one looks like:

Antique pudding mold with lid.  Note the hole in the pan's center.

Assembled and ready for cooking.

The idea is that you fill the mold with your pudding, twist the lid on tightly, and place in a larger pan with hot water.  The larger pan is covered and put over heat, surrounding the mold with steam for a few hours.  This cooks the pudding.  The lid keeps the steam from contacting the pudding directly so it doesn't get soggy.

My modern adaptation was to use a tube pan, although a Bundt pan would also work.  

It doesn't have a lid but I can make one using foil.

Following the instructions, I buttered the pan, then covered the inside with a layer of masa.

I tried to keep the thickness fairly uniform and not too thick.  

Next I put in the stew.

Then I put a layer of masa over the top, making sure to seal the edges where it met the sides of the pan and the tube.  It helped to get my hands a little wet to smooth over the surface.

It didn't occur to me at the time, but I should have used a little extra masa or foil to plug the hole in the tube.

I used a cloth to cover the surface and then foil over the top of that, and placed the whole assembly into the Dutch oven.  There was a small rack below the mold so water could circulate around it.  The water (already heated) came about halfway up the side.  I had extra water heating in the tea kettle just in case I need to replenish.

I used the foil to help hold the cloth up out of the water.

The lid went on the Dutch oven and I turned the heat up until steam was coming out from under the lid.  I turned the heat down so that the water was simmering and just a little steam came out.  

I checked it every 30 minutes but never needed to replenish the water.

After 2 hours, I noticed a lovely corn scent in the steam.  I turned the heat off and let it sit for another 20 minutes or so while I got ready to take it out. 

Here is how it looked when the foil and cloth came off:

This is when I realized I should have plugged the hole.

First we lifted the mold out of the hot water.  Then we put a big plate over the top and worked together to invert it.  Fortunately that all went well and the mold popped off easily.

Right out of the mold!

We were both very happy with the way it looked.  It held together and only had one small crack on the side.

The steamed tamale was served with a tossed green salad and some mild, red salsa on the side.

The Verdict

Four of us gave it a try.  We used a very sharp blade to cut through the masa. 

The pieces were wedge-shaped.  I was pleased the stew was firm enough that it didn't flow out of the crust when the tamale was cut.  It stayed in place.  

It was well received.  The masa was firm, not as tender as I had hoped but certainly acceptable.  It added a nice corn flavor and acted as a background for the stew.  The stew was flavorful with all the complexities of the ingredients:  chicken, olives, nuts, raisins, onions, chiles.  NH noted that the chicken was wonderfully tender.  It was all balanced and tasty.

I liked it both by itself and with a little salsa mixed in.  

We thought it would be improved with more spices in the stew:  more oregano, garlic, and vinegar to spice it "higher", although no one thought it lacking.  What was surprising was that it was not hot from the chiles -- we all expected it.  Perhaps using different chiles would do the trick.  Those of us who are not used to the fire chiles bring to a dish were fine with it as it was.

If I were to do this again, I would probably start with a canned red chile sauce, just to save time.  It took the good part of a day to make this from scratch.  Cutting out several hours to make the sauce would be fine and still make a good dish.

In 1898, this was the latest novelty!  I can see how it would be impressive to dinner guests (as it was to mine.)

Ranchos - Tamales al Vapor, part 1 (sauce and filling), a Pinedo recipe

On page 263 of Miss Pinedo's book El cocinero español, she lists "Tamales al vapor" or Steamed Tamales.  Underneath she adds that it is the "latest novelty."  It is a tamale made in a pudding mold and is steamed.  I see the advantage:  instead of wrapping individual tamale servings, you made the whole thing at once to serve a crowd.

I wanted to make it as she might have, starting with dried chiles to make the sauce and working my way through the entire process.

Note that I scheduled an entire day to get it made!  The best part was I had a guest cook, NH, helping me along the way.  

There are a variety of recipes Miss Pinedo offers to use as guides.  I chose this recipe on page 248 for the sauce:

My translation

My Notes

I put a lot of water into my stovetop tea kettle and started heating it.

I used 12 chiles:  6 each of California and Guajillo.  To "decrown" is to remove the stem end; then I split them down a side and removed the seeds (saving some for the sauce) and any loose veins that tore out easily.

Straight out of the bag

Decrowning

Seeds and veins removed.

They went into a 250 degree F oven.  I took them out after 15 minutes because they had puffed and darkened.  

They went into a bowl of ice water for just a few minutes and then the water was drained off.  I put them in a saucepan and poured the hot water from the tea kettle over them, just enough to cover the chiles.  The lid went onto the saucepan and the chiles soaked for two hours.

Beginning of the soaking

After soaking

The water was drained off and the chiles went into the blender.  I added enough water allow the blending to proceed smoothly and I processed them until there were no big pieces but I could see tiny bits of skin.  

NH used the back of a ladle to push the pureed chiles through a coarse sieve, occasionally stopping along the way to remove the bits that didn't go through.  At first it was too thick to push through, so she added enough water to make it workable. What she ended up with was about 1 1/4 cups of chile puree.

Smooth!  No bits.

We then added 1 teaspoon salt, 1 teaspoon dried and crumbled oregano, two tablespoons olive oil, and two tablespoons white wine vinegar.

This was the sauce.  Next we worked on the filling, which Miss Pinedo calls the stew.

I used this recipe on page 262 as our guide:

My translation

I had a big bag of boneless, skinless chicken thighs, so NH cut them into bite-sized pieces.  While she was doing that, I heated up a pan of water with 1 teaspoon salt in it.  

To parboil the chicken pieces, I put a handful in the hot water and stirred it to separate the pieces.  They stayed in the water (with an occasional stir) until the exterior was no longer pink (about 5 minutes per batch).  Then they were removed and drained.  We used about 2 pounds of meat, total.  As each batch finished draining, they went into the chile sauce, which was over a very low heat.

This looked like a good meat-to-sauce ratio.

Next we turned to page 261 and the recipe for beef tamales to continue making the stew.

My translation

We also referenced pages 263 and 264 on Mexican style tamales for more ideas on what to go into the filling.

My translation

We focused on the beef tamale instructions that said:

On the other hand, a lot of onion is chopped and fried in good fat; when it begins to brown, add a tablespoon of dry flour and stir and turn the sauce to prevent the flour from sticking or browning too much. Immediately, a good thick red chile sauce is added; seasoning it with salt, oregano, and some toasted and ground red chile seeds, and olives from Spain. Then place the meat in the sauce, letting it simmer over a slow and prolonged heat until it is well seasoned.

A large onion was diced and fried in olive oil, adding 1 heaping tablespoon of flour once the onions started to brown.  This was stirred a lot until the whole thing looked thick.

Meanwhile, I took the few (2 to 3) tablespoons of chile seeds I had saved and toasted them in dry, hot skillet.  It is important to keep the seeds moving while toasting to avoid scorching.

The time to stop toasting is when many or most are browner and you can smell a toasted scent.

Then they were ground in the little coffee grinder that is used just for spices.

We tasted them.  Surprisingly, they weren't really spicy.  We decided to use them because they might add a toasted flavor and possibly thicken the sauce a little.

The inspiration from the Mexican style recipe was to add garlic (1 tablespoon, chopped), black olives (about 15, chopped), almonds and walnuts (about 1/2 cup total, chopped), and raisins (1 1/2 handfuls).

Once everything was in the sauce, we tasted to adjust the seasoning.  We added another 2 tablespoons of vinegar and 1 teaspoon of salt.  That tasted just right.  We also added some of the broth the chicken was parboiled in to make it moister.

Then we put the stew over a very low heat, covered the pan, and let it cook for an hour or so.  

Done cooking.

This is the end of part one.  Part two is posted next.  This is making the masa and assembling the entire dish.

Summary of what we used for the sauce and filling:

12 chiles

2 lb chicken thigh meat 

olive oil

1 large onion

1 heaping tablespoon flour

15 olives

1/2 cup total chopped almonds and walnuts

1 1/2 handful raisins

1 tablespoon chopped garlic

2 - 3 tablespoons chile seeds

4 tablespoons white wine vinegar

2 teaspoons salt + 1 more teaspoon for the parboiling water

1 teaspoon dried oregano

Ranchos - Almendras tostadas, Toasted Almonds, a Pinedo recipe

Almonds are used often throughout Miss Pinedo's book and this is not surprising because she lived in Santa Clara county, which is known for its agriculture, including almonds.

UC Davis published "Almond Production in California" by Geisseler and Horwath which states:

Almonds were planted in California as early as 1853. The varieties used were of European origin.

...

In the 1880s, local varieties, more adapted to the climatic conditions, became available and allowed for profitable production of high quality almonds.

...

With adapted varieties available, almond production increased steadily. While the statewide production was about 250 tons in 1888, it averaged 2250 tons between 1910 and 1914 and 4600 tons between 1915 and 1919.

This recipe, on page 28, caught my attention and amused me greatly because of one phrase:  "When the almonds squeak, they are removed from the fire."

I really wanted to try it to see if the almonds would squeak or not.

My translation

My Redaction (first attempt)

1 pound raw almonds, already shelled

1 pound granulated sugar

4 ounces water

1/4  to 1/2 teaspoon lemon extract (see both attempts for comments)

Lightly butter a flat pan or cookie sheet.  Turn oven on to warm or about 170 degrees F.

Put the almonds in a heavy saucepan; add the water and sugar.  Stir well.

Put over medium heat and bring to a boil.  Adjust heat downward as needed to keep the mixture for boiling over.  Do not stir.

When the almonds start to smell toasted, remove from the heat.  Add the extract and stir very well.

Put back over the heat and cook again without stirring until the sugar becomes brown.

Pour the mixture into the buttered pan and quickly spread it so the nuts are a single layer.  Put pan into the oven for about 15 minutes.

Remove from oven and allow to cool.  Break into pieces.

My Notes

I interpreted the instructions to peel and open the almonds as meaning to remove their shells.  My almonds were already shelled so I used them as they came.  Later I came to realize that then instructions probably meant to blanch them and remove their skins ("peel"), then to open the halves.  This is why I did a second attempt.

Really this is an almond brittle.  You don't want to stir the sugar and nut mixture while it is boiling because this might cause it to crystalize instead of turning to a caramel.  This would make it more like candied (sugared) nuts and not a brittle.

Alas, I never heard the almonds squeak.  I kept waiting and then I noticed the lovely toasted almond scent just before I started smelling a scorched odor.  This is when I took the pan off the heat.  So take the pan off as soon as the almonds smell toasted.

I had to guess the amount of lemon extract.  I've had nut brittle with lemon flavoring before (though not from extract) so I knew it would be good; I just didn't want to over- or under-do it.

I didn't need to cook it long the second time to get the caramel color on the sugar.  

After pouring the mixture on the buttered pan, I very quickly spread it to a one-almond thickness.

I'm not sure if the oven drying process contributes anything but I did it anyway.

Here are pictures of the process along the way:

Boiled, not stirred

After the lemon was added.

Poured and spread

A little scorching occurred (see dark spots)

After breaking up

The Verdict  (for the first attempt)

It was very tasty!  The lemon was a nice touch as it kept the flavor from being too sweet.  The caramelization was just right - a good flavor and not sticky (so no risk to my teeth).  The almonds gave it a toasty, nutty flavor.  The scorched areas did not make anything taste bad.

It was at this point I realized I should have skinned and split the nuts.  They were a bit big for each bite, although I didn't have a problem with it.  I also thought that the white almond look would be better, more intriguing, due to the contrast with the brown syrup.  

The Second Attempt

Before following the directions given in the first attempt, pour boiling water over the almonds.  Allow them to sit until cool enough to handle, then remove skins and split the halves or cut the nuts into pieces.

Or just buy blanched, chopped almonds.

My Notes

Some of the nuts had skins that slipped off easily.  Others were stubborn and I had to scrape them off with a fingernail or the edge of a spoon.  This was not easy.  

Also, at first I was trying to separate the halves with my fingers, but this got my fingers sore very quickly.  This is when I started just cutting the nuts into big chunks (two or three per nut).  

Frankly, after doing this for about 4 ounces of almonds, I stopped.  My hands hurt and I hadn't gotten very far.  This is why I recommend buying blanched, chopped almonds.  

Four ounces and the reduced amount of sugar and water cooked too quickly.  Maybe my pan was too big.  When I smelled the slight toasted smell, I removed it from the heat but the mixture started to sugar up.  I added some hot water to dissolve the crystals and to recook it.  It started to sugar again so I added the extract, stirred it, then poured it out on the buttered pan without waiting for the syrup to caramel.

I put in 1/8 teaspoon of extract, so twice what I put in for the first attempt (to match it would have required 1/16 teaspoon for 1/4 the recipe).  Then into the oven.

So I didn't get the color contrast I had hoped for but at least it was a sort of a brittle.

The Verdict (the second attempt)

This was also tasty.  You can see that there was some toasting of the almonds (light brown spots).  If the sugaring hadn't happened, I might have gotten more toasting.

The lemon flavor was more noticeable but still very good.  It is a surprising flavor and compliments the almond and sugar well.  You can choose your preference on this and expect it to be good.