Sugar-coated pastry makes season bright
The holiday season in Mexico City was always slightly cold and by far my favorite time of the year.
Though I left a decade ago, it seems like it was yesterday that I was baking side-by-side with my Aunt Martita, my first pastry mentor.
(John H. White/Sun-Times)
As December approached, there was always great food, memorable desserts and tons of celebrations with pinatas, candies, ponche con piquete (hot fruit punch with brandy or rum) and lively music.
At home, my mom and dad would take Christmas decorating very seriously. We would all participate in picking a fresh Christmas tree at our local supermarket that, most of the time, was imported from the United States or Canada. Decorating it was everybody's job.
My mom, a great fiesta planner, would decide weeks ahead what everybody in the family had to cook or bake for Christmas Eve and New Year's.
Among my mom's four sisters and one brother, she had plenty of specialties from which to choose.
Aunt Rochi was known for her Bacalao a la Vizcaina, cod prepared the Old Spain way, with capers, olives, white wine, almonds, tomatoes, spicy yellow peppers and parsley.
Aunt Blanquis' famous ravioli were stuffed with her best refried black beans or spicy ham filling, all covered with her secret creamy tomato/chipotle sauce.
My favorite aunt, Tia Martita, being such a good cook and baker, would make stuffing for the turkey and her famous fruitcake. Yes, even in Mexico we eat fruitcake.
My mom and I always would offer to cook the turkey. My mom always would buy a huge bird, so big that we would struggle every year to fit it in the oven. Our recipe was very simple: we would inject as much white wine as possible into the turkey and then rub a garlicky butter with herbs and spices all over the bird before cooking it.
Uncle Memo and Tia Judy would round out the menu with their Smoky Adobo Pork Loin, as well as their fabulous cocktails.
But the holidays were never complete without Grandma's bunuelos. These golden, crispy-sweet, tortillalike fritters were sprinkled with Mexican cinnamon and sugar.
Traditionally, for New Year's Eve, my grandma would get us all together again for bunuelos and hot chocolate.
I remember her every New Year's Eve in the afternoon, preparing the dough by hand and rolling them into perfect circles patiently, always with a smile. She would fry them methodically for hours until she would have a tower of bunuelitos.
At midnight, we would line up and wait for her to hand them out. We knew these phenomenal pastries were worth waiting for and were the best finale for the holiday season.
Abuelita Blanca is now in heaven. In her memory, we make bunuelos at Bombon Cafe for New Year's Eve so that our customers can enjoy this beautiful tradition.
Laura Cid Perea is the pastry chef and owner of Bombon Cafe, 36 S. Ashland, and Bombon, 3748 W. 26th St., and and pastry chef consultant for the Cake Gallery, 1238 W. 18th St.