Saturday, October 12, 2013

A Bucket Full of Tenderness


We have had for over a year now a mutually beneficial arrangement with a kindly neighbor woman, Señora S and her teenaged daughter, Ms M. Their family unit also counts the Abuelita, Doña J, the spirited octo-nonagenarian matriarch of the multibranched family tree.


The mother and daughter clean our house with near endless cheerfulness that lifts our spirits as well. (They turn the house inside out, clean it thoroughly, then reassemble it to an approximation of what it was. This weekly process has given us a great flexibility of attitude). In turn, we help them with rides in our van from time to time. Sometimes they bring us wonderful tortillas, made on the comal from nixtamal and other times caldos, corundas y moles. We, in turn, give them some of my specialties. This usually happens on Saturdays, when they come to do la limpieza.
Corundas y Uchepos

A greater part of the informal arrangement comes when we are requested upon to ferry them to Morelia for various matters. Last spring it was a nearly once a week trip to obtain their Mexican passports. Their persistence won over the sluggish bureaucracy until they got what they came for. I will confess that these trips were often stressful and always tiring for us. But we were glad to help.

The most recent van lifts to Morelia are in order to visit a very sick relative in the Hospital Civil. We also stopped along the country road some kilometers from our village to pick up Tía L and her four daughters, ranging in age from four to 18. They crammed themselves into the rear cargo space of our van and the back seat.

We then spent over 6 hours outside the Hospital Civil, mostly people watching, which can fascinating in that context, while they visited the sick uncle and comforted his wife, Tía R

We felt good about having helped our neighbors. We were generously rewarded on the last leg of the drive home by a glorious, pre-sunset vista of the mountains, veiled in a skein of cloud, and a foreground of pink cosmos festooning the valley fields. We stopped at the aunt and cousins' house to let them off, when Tía L's husband, Tío R came out with a costal of elotes to load in our van.

Archive photo
Once back in our village, we stopped at el molino to pick up a couple of large pails of nixtamal  that Ms M had dropped off as we departed earlier.

We had more rewards awaiting us.

The next evening, Ms M came up our street after sunset bearing a small plastic bucket covered with an embroidered towel. In it were a number of freshly cooked, still steaming, elotes tiernos; boiled ears of tender young corn.

These are not the elotes described above, but charcoal grilled.
They were too beautiful not to display.
In anticipation, I'd bought a small container of Crema “Eugenia”. We ate four elotes each, dressing them with crema, limon, Salsa Valentina, y queso añejo y sal. They were delicious, and even more satisfying knowing that they came from Sra. S’ kitchen.

We returned with them to Morelia on Monday and once again brought them home. On this trip we carried only our three neighbors and not the aunt and her daughters children.

On the following Thursday, as darkness descended, as I considered scrambling eggs for supper, there again was Ms M calling at our gate. In one hand she carried a pot of caldo de pollo, and in the other, a clean, embroidered kitchen towel full of freshly made tortillas del comal.


Caldo de Pollo con verduras
We have had her Mamá S's caldo  before, but this one was the richest, most flavorsome ever. Besides the broth and a piece of chicken, it had potato, carrot and chayote and a piece of elote rojo. I cut an avocado, and diced red onion and cilantro to garnish the soup. A lime half for each of us was a given. The tortillas were earthy as always and redolent of maíz y cal. I ate four, more than my usual amount. I can't imagine a more timely and satisfying supper, one that nourished spirit as as well as flesh, made by the hands of our dear neighbor, Sra. S.


15 comments:

Andean said...

What a nice story.
My mother always made "caldo de pollo" with those ingredients. Delicious!
And I now have to view the one thing I cannot get here, real tamales. !Qué pena!

DonCuevas said...

Today they brought us freshly made uchepos ( a sweet, unfilled sort of tamal.) I haven't opened any yet, but I imagine that they are made with piloncillo "raw sugar", and tend towards starchiness.

These uchepos pictured are at the breakfast restaurant, " El Gorgeo de las Aves en la Mañanas de Abril", at Ziracuaretiro, Michoacán; served with stewed pork rib chunks in Salsa Roja.

https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-MUqVX0_8tLI/S_pMj62-UTI/AAAAAAAAf-g/b-CSi7XGEMw/s640/IMG_7510.JPG

My swap to them today is some of the apple cobbler I made this morning.

Saludos,
Don Cuevas

Steve Cotton said...

Great relationship. With food as a bonus. What could be better?

Kim G said...

Wow, such a nice tale! Sounds like you all have a very nice, mutually beneficial relationship.



Saludos,


Kim G
Boston, MA
Where that barbecued elote looks wonderful.

Andean said...

In Ecuador those are called humitas. A good sweet breakfast treat.
But I would trade it for apple cobbler and a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side. Yum.

Bixa Orellana said...

And this lovely view of your life in the neighborhood is nourishment for the spirit, as well. Once again you've conveyed the deep pleasure of Mexican life.

DonCuevas said...

Today is pizza day here. Health Salad (See "Slaw Food Movement); pizza (1 Margherita (with grape tomatoes on top, fresh basil); 1 vegetariana (eggplant, sweet peppers, red onion, maybe cooked acelgas - I don't know about that one. Wish I had some fresh mushrooms.); and a deli meats pizza (bland ham, some sort of Italian deli meat from the freezer, homemade fennel sausage.) I have to decide whether I want to totally disgrace myself and add fresh pineapple to the latter in order to please local tastes. Nooo!

I am pleased that our local guests don't ask for catsup for their pizza.

Saludos,
Don Cuevas

Laurie Matherne said...

Elotes! Very popular in Honduras, too. I love your soup picture, too.

DonCuevas said...

Thanks, Laurie. Yesterday, I made a huge pot of Sopa de Milpa. I'm not going to give the recipe, but I have a few pictures.

https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/kT_Ill-VBhFj1fKObLdR-dMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=directlink

Saludos,
Don Cuevas

DonCuevas said...

Thanks, Laurie. Yesterday, I made Sopa de Milpa. I wont post the mainly improvised recipe,but I do have a photo.

https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/kT_Ill-VBhFj1fKObLdR-dMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=directlink

Saludos,
Don Cuevas

DonCuevas said...

Sopa de Milpa is another great soup. I made a cauldro n of it late yesterday.

https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Dwz83_zpkfw/UmFTswLERqI/AAAAAAAA6d0/V4tairNlOgg/s640/IMG_0353.JPG



DC

Andean said...

Why not post it. Looks delicious! I make soups often here, at this time of the year. Look forward to new recipes.

DonCuevas said...

Andean, because it was so improvised and inexact, than other than serving as a general guide, it wouldn't be reproducible.even by me.


DC

Andean said...

I understand. My adult children have asked for my traditional recipes recently, and I have had to think of the amount of each ingredient, as I never measured and still don't. To top it off I also trade ingredients if I don't have the one I usually use. So yes it's improvised many a time but always good. :) especially soups. I am glad they watched me cook enough to understand this kind of process.

DonCuevas said...

Andean, you and I are on the same wavelength.


DC