Today I Was Seduced by a Guava

Yes, it’s true. Well, actually, I understate it. A pile of gorgeous green guavas, none much bigger than a kiwi, conspired to woo me from my pre-guayabas ignorance. It was the heady musky fragrance of the tropics that took me down this morning at Foodland when I wandered over to the display where my friends Angela and her mom, Bertha, were bagging some fruit. I remember that when the powerful scent hit me, my mouth dropped and my eyes widened trying to figure out what I had walked into. I think I even laughed in delight. Bertha pointed to the fruit and told me they were guavas, something I'd obviously heard of and probably even drank as juice, but had never actually seen.

They were irresistible, though, and I immediately bagged half a dozen, not even caring about whether I’d like the taste. I simply had to have them. So, that sweet aroma—part jasmine, part passion fruit and a huge dollop of pineapple—trailed me home and has now taken over my kitchen. In short, guavas are to fruit what gardenias are to flowers. Intoxicating. Sure, one bite of that creamy white, pear-like sweetness sealed it for me, but, to be honest, their flavor was almost irrelevant. I got, well, olfactorily sucker punched.

I honestly don’t know how I’ve gone all these years living in Southern California without ever having been exposed to the guava before. They grow in San Diego, but I haven’t seen them in any gardens I’ve been in—at least I wasn’t aware of them.

So, I’m a late bloomer, pardon the pun. But, oh, does it really matter when you discover something wondrous once it finally happens?

Guavas, I learned today following a little bit of research, are in the myrtle family, and are native to Mexico, the Caribbean, Central America and northern South America. While the guavas I bought have white flesh under their thin green skin, other varieties range from pink to red on the outside and have orange-salmon flesh. All have lots of small, hard edible seeds. And, the best news is that they’re rich in vitamins A, B and C. In fact, they have more vitamin C than a typical citrus fruit, mostly found in the rind. And, guavas are rich in calcium. So, eat them whole—enjoy the flavor and improve your health. They’d also be great cut up in a fruit salad and I can imagine them poached like a pear, but are often used to make preserves and juices.

Okay, I’ve calmed down now. I didn’t just freefall for guavas at Foodland today. I actually returned there to check out more of their prepared foods. I wanted to try their nopales salad again, see how their ceviche compared with Northgate’s quality and selection and try more salsas. Of course, I had to pick up their freshly made chips and tortillas. And, couldn’t possibly walk out without their sweet bisquetes.

The result was that I effortlessly had the makings of a feast of a lunch for my friend Angela and me. All I needed to do was reheat a stack of gorditas—thick corn tortillas. I took out a couple of the $1.50 trays I bought at Daiso and placed on them containers of guacamole with jalapeños, salsa fresca, roasted tomato salsa, fish ceviche, ensalada de nopales and a small wedge of panela cheese.

No surprise that the chips—again light and crisp—and the warm gorditas didn’t disappoint. The guacamole was rich but had a residual kick that needed to be toned down with the panela. I discovered that while I liked the flavor of the roasted tomato salsa, the consistency—like a thick tomato sauce—just wasn’t what I wanted in a salsa. I prefer the chopped freshness of the salsa fresca. As for the fish ceviche, that little container didn’t stand a chance. I couldn’t identify what kind of fish was used, but its sweetness melded nicely with the tomatoes and onions, and the lime juice gave it just enough of a punch. Angela and I ate about half at lunch and I polished off the rest for dinner. Now, was it as good as Northgate? Not quite. I simply prefer Northgate, which has a wider variety of ceviches (loved the octopus) and I like their recipe better. The flavors are just that much perkier. On the other hand, Foodland has a much, much better nopales salad. The primary reason is the salty queso fresco they add that slips in another layer of flavor and texture.

On a whim, I also picked up a small container filled with chocolate flan—well, actually a layer of chocolate cake beneath a layer of flan.

That went down nicely. The sweet smooth flan was nicely complemented by the rich, chewy chocolate. Neither was too sugary and the textures came together nicely. Definitely something to return for.

Have some thoughts about Foodland Mercado or other Latin markets in San Diego? Have you met up with a guava yet? Do you have a favorite neighborhood market or shop that carries unique or unusual foodstuff? Let me know or add to the conversation by clicking on comments below:

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Mariscos España and Comercial Mexicana: Adventures in Rosarito, Parte Una

When it comes to great places to eat, experience has told me that if you hit on someplace fabulous in New York or L.A. you keep it to yourself or else you’ll never be able to get in again but that in San Diego you have to tell everyone you know so that it will stay in business. I’m of two minds when it comes to Mariscos España in little Puerto Popotla, just four miles south of Rosarito. After all, I hate to ruin it for my friends Paula and Armando, who live in Rosarito and are frequent patrons. Paula, herself, was apprehensive about my writing about it here. However, when the owner, Elvira España, hands you a four-color business card as you leave, then obviously she’s looking for crowds. And, why shouldn’t she enjoy more business? What she does exemplifies the essence of how treating fresh ingredients simply and with respect brings out their true flavors.

Now Mariscos España is not a market—we’ll get to that a bit later. It’s one of about 25 restaurants (and I use that term loosely) sitting on a very ragged road in the Popotla fishing village. Immediately south of the Fox Baja Studios/Foxploration, Popotla is a wonderful alternative to Puerto Nuevo and its now clichéd lobsters.

We’re talking fairly primitive facilities here, but if you want an authentic Baja experience, you’ll enjoy a splendid and inexpensive meal made from the catch of the day, if not the hour, along with tortillas, chips, salsas, rice and beans. And if the ambiance of plastic tables and chairs doesn’t move you, consider that they’re overlooking a gorgeous view of either the ocean or the fishing cove, and in the case of Mariscos España, both.

My friends Paula and Tamara and I enjoyed a huge and extraordinary meal there last week. Paula called Elvira in advance to let her know we’d be coming so she could prepare Paula’s favorite menu, which was to include fresh fried crabs. We were lucky. The day was warm and sunny, the ocean sparkling. We lugged in a cooler filled with cervezas, faux cervezas and sparkling water (yep, bring your own drinks and glasses) and sat down at our table overlooking both the cove and the ocean as fishing boats pulled in from the ocean and were doggedly lugged up the beach by tired looking pick-up trucks and vans. We even had a host, our own resident and very proprietary seagull who politely stood guard on the white tile wall, keeping his kin at bay while we ate. (Yes, he got his tip at the end of the meal.)

Elvira’s daughter started us off with a basket of thick chips and two salsas, a spicy roja and a much gentler fresh salsa cruda. Then she brought out three plates of plump shrimp quesadillas. The shrimp is gently sautéed with both salsas added at the finish, then they’re added to a flour tortilla with shredded cheese and more salsa, sealed and—get ready for this—flash fried.

What was presented was a terrific seafood indulgence, crispy on the outside with soft, sweet chunks of flavorful shrimp smothered in warm cheese inside. But, wait, there’s more.

Next what looked like softballs wrapped in foil were brought to the table. We each carefully unwrapped the packaging on our plate and discovered an enormous clam that had been steamed on the grill with chopped tomatoes, jalapeños, onions, parsley and Oaxaca cheese. This was more like an amuse buche, a lovely couple of bites to tease the palate. Elvira actually created this recipe for Paula years ago because Paula couldn’t eat raw clams, and has been serving it to her and Armando ever since.

Once we finished the clams, we went to the kitchen to select the main course—our fish. Unfortunately, Elvira, told us, she couldn’t serve us crabs. None had come in yet. So, we had our choice of freshly caught pescado rojo—rock cod.

Fish were everywhere in the kitchen—resting on the counter, hanging in a scale and on ice in a cooler. Paula, draped in one of the enormous white flour-sack towels she wisely brought in anticipation of the mess we’d make with the crabs, picked our fish in the cooler. After receiving several swift slashes on top, it too, was flash fried. Elvira is big on frying. Paula calls it "the Puerto Nuevo syndrome, what Rosarito is famous for." Fortunately, Elvira's technique is so good that you get crunch, not grease. The food is actually very light. And, there's no melted butter to be seen. So, we wonder after indulging in a full meal of flash-fried food, how bad could it be?

Served with hot flour tortillas, a small bowl of limes cut in half and more salsa, along with bowls of seasoned rice and beans, we had our feast. I rarely eat fried food, but this is the opportunity you wait for. The flesh was sweet and tender, the skin wonderfully crispy. We could have finished it off without a problem.

Except, that after about 10 minutes we got a surprise. As we were each digging into the fish, pulling it apart where Elvira had made her cuts, tucking steaming white chunks of cod into the warm tortillas along with the salsas and giving it a quick squeeze of fresh lime juice, Elvira came out bearing a platter filled with—crabs, one for each of us. We were tickled and she was so pleased; they had just come in and she quickly put them in hot oil. (Remember, keep it simple.)

Out came three worn wood cutting boards accompanied by gray beach rocks the size of a fist. In Baltimore, they may use a mallet, but in Rosarito, it’s beach rocks that do the job. The fish was pushed aside as we smashed the crabs with the stones and pulled apart the legs. They were fiercely hot, but once in the mouth, moist and naturally salty from the sea. Not a drop of oil to be seen; in fact, I had thought they were boiled. They were purely fun and satisfying finger food.

We sat outside, talking, enjoying our meal and the activity in the cove for a couple of hours. There just couldn’t have been a better or more decadent way to enjoy the surroundings. And, with tip, it cost us each $19.

Then it was off to go shopping, including a visit to Rosarito’s Comercial Mexicana—one of Mexico’s major supermarket chains. I know, the irony of it all. But wait till you hear about it.

Mariscos España is located in Puerto Popotla, KM 33.

Have some thoughts about Mariscos España or other seafood restaurants in Baja? Do you have a favorite neighborhood market or shop that carries unique or unusual foodstuff? Let me know or add to the conversation by clicking on comments below:

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Northgate González Market: A Taste of Jalisco in Southcrest

It happened as soon as I published my Foodland entry at the end of April. All of a sudden people started asking me if I’d heard of this great Mexican market off the 805 called Northgate. Friends of mine got there before I was able to and touted it as the Whole Foods of Mexican markets. Well, all of this chatter of course made me more than a little curious. So, last weekend with little time to spare, unfortunately, I headed over with my friend Angela on a turbo-charged run through the place, loved it and returned during the week for a more complete experience.

Northgate is terrific, but comparing it to Whole Foods isn’t fair to either market. For one thing, Northgate doesn’t do organic, it’s not anywhere near as pricey (in fact, its prices are very reasonable) and it isn’t exactly gourmet. But in one major respect, the comparison is understandable. The produce section at Northgate is remarkable—full of variety with gorgeous offerings and the setup and lighting actually looks kind of like Whole Foods.

The Northgate González Market in Southcrest is the only San Diego branch so far in a chain of 26. According to store manager Benito Medellin, the family-owned business is planning on expanding in San Diego but the location of the next market hasn’t been selected yet. Even this place is just celebrating its first anniversary here on June 22. The other markets are in L.A. and Orange Counties. The first store opened in 1980 in Anaheim, the vision of Don Miguel González Jiménez and his older sons, who immigrated here from Jalostotitlán, Jalisco. The “Northgate” name was the original store name before the family took it over and it stuck. Gradually, the family bought more stores, with the various González siblings running them.

That’s the history. The San Diego store is a bustling place. On the Saturday morning Angela and I visited, you couldn’t even get to the meat counter to see what was there, it was 10 deep at least in shoppers across the entire back of the store, where there are counters for beef, pork and lamb, poultry and seafood. You want fresh pulpo (octopus)? They’ve got it, along with whole, cleaned tilapia and snapper, fillets of lots of other fish and tons of shrimp—all very fresh looking.

In the meat department, no part of the animal goes to waste—pork lard, snouts and hocks sit side by side with beef tongue, lips, cheeks, liver and guts. You’ll find tripe and chicken feet—as well as the regular cuts of these animals. And, if you need a bit of an assist, there is a wide selection of meats already marinated and ready for the grill.

All that is great, but to me, there are two really compelling reasons to go to Northgate: the produce and the salad counter.

The produce is beautiful. In anticipation of a Sunday lunch party I was throwing, I went with a list of ingredients I needed. The avocados were just right, about to be perfectly ripe the following day when I needed them for a salsa with cilantro, white onions and limon juice. The limons—tiny key limes—also were lovely.

I bought utterly flawless tomatoes on the vine, a small watermelon, a pineapple, mango, peaches and apricots. Then, I took a breath and saw that among the beautiful rainbow of chiles, vibrant yellow squash blossoms, paddles and prepared bags of fresh nopales, bulbous Mexican onions, now familiar xoconoxtles and barrels of jamaica and tamarindo were some products I hadn’t seen before.

The first were in the chayote family. Little white chayotes and prickly chayotes. I bought both, more curious about the latter, of course. To be honest, when I got home and started researching prickly chayote to figure out how to use it without becoming horribly disfigured, I was at a loss.

I could find nothing online that explained how exactly to deal with the blanket of tiny golden needles. So, this evening after thinking about it, I decided to boil it whole for 15 minutes, then don some heavy dishwashing gloves and peel it. It worked. I got a smooth, spring green squash ready for … what? Easiest is best so I sliced it into strips and placed them in a bowl, tossing them with thin slices of red onion, minced garlic, olive oil, freshly grated dry Sonoma Jack and salt and pepper. Then I spread the mixture in a baking dish and baked it at 375 for about 20 minutes or so. Lovely. Was it worth the pinpricks? Maybe not. It didn’t taste much different from a smooth chayote, but it was a bit of an adventure.

The second discovery I made was fresh garbanzo beans. These lovely little gems are enclosed in a thin papery pod. I bought a couple of handfuls of them, since I had no idea what to do with them. It turns out they are the essence of cheap thrills. Think edamame. First off, you can eat them raw. Just push in the pod and out pops the green bean, which tastes very similar to a fresh pea out of the pod. Snack on them, add them to a salad. Online you can find recipes for fresh chickpea hummus and salsa. I didn’t try these because I didn’t buy enough, but here’s a salsa recipe from supplier Califresh of California:

Fresh Chickpea Salsa

2 Cups Chickpeas - Cooked and Cooled

1 Clove Garlic

1/2 Cup Fresh Cilantro Leaves

1 Jalapeno Pepper- seeds removed finely diced

1 Large Tomato - chopped

3-6 Green Onions - finely chopped

Juice of 1 Lime

Salt and Pepper to taste

Place chickpeas, garlic and cilantro in blender or food processor and blend just until coarsely chopped. Scrape into a medium sized bowl. Add remaining ingredients and stir - season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve as a dip with tortilla chips or as a garnish over grilled chicken, beef or fish.

You can also roast them. It’s quick and the results really are like edamame. Spray a skillet with non-stick cooking spray or a little olive oil. Add a single layer of garbanzos in the pod, then add just a teaspoon or so of water. Cover and cook on medium/high heat for about five minutes, shaking the skillet from side to side periodically. They should smoke a little and the pods will turn dark on the bottom. That’s it. Slip them into a bowl and sprinkle liberally with kosher salt. Then, just like edamame, bite the bean out of the pod and discard the pod. They’re delicious and will surprise your guests. And, the great thing is that these are in season from May through October, so you should find them at Northgate fairly easily for the next several months.

Alongside the produce section is another great find, the Palapa station. Northgate prepares fresh salsas, guacamole, pico de gallo, nopales salad and, my favorite, a variety of ceviches. I bought small amounts of several and each was better than the one before. There’s the ceviche de pescado with catfish fillet—chopped fish, tomatoes, olives, cucumber, cilantro and lime juice. It’s got the tartness of the lime and saltiness of the olives and simply a wonderful fresh fish flavor. The ceviche de camaron (shrimp)—chopped shrimp, tomatoes and cilantro with lime—has a simple but profound shrimp taste. The ceviche de camaron con pulpo y chile was my favorite. Smooth shrimp, chewy octopus and a bit of heat from the green chile was marvelous. I also tried the aguachile verde shrimp, a dish of whole shrimp marinated in a spicy verde sauce. Very good, particularly in a fresh warm corn tortilla. I didn’t enjoy the ensalada de nopales as much as Foodland’s. It needed more seasoning and I missed the addition of queso fresco. The salsas are all delicious and the pico de gallo is a perfect combination of flavors and a real deal. If you don’t have the time to chop up veggies, buy a container and enjoy with tortilla chips.

Near the produce section is the Pasteleria, or bakery. They have flat cema breads, a variety of cakes, gelatina de leche, rice pudding, buñelos and an amazing flan. You can buy a whole flan or by the slice. It’s simply divine in both texture and flavor.

The Panaderia is an entire wall of pan dulce, hot bolillos (football-shaped rolls, great for sandwiches), bisquetes, churros and other sweets. Shopper Sergio Beszeditz helped me distinguish between the various pink-, yellow- and brown-topped pastries.

The big, thick cookies were “polvorones” (powder), so named because they crumble almost at the touch. The conchas on the other hand are big and puffy with a colorful crumbly topping. Inside they’re almost like slightly sweet doughnuts in texture. There were some crescent-shaped pastries, but don’t assume they're croissants—these are dense, solid breads that break apart, not tear.

On the opposite side of the store are more prepared foods along with the tortilleria. So, yes, you can get freshly made corn tortillas, chips, tostados and masa fina. Then get ready for an inundation of pollo asado, a wonderful butterflied roast chicken with overtones of chile; surprisingly delicious moronga (pork blood sausage); carnitas; costilla de puerco (pork ribs); buches (pork stomach); pupusa de chicharron or de queso, a very greasy pancake-like item stuffed with pork crackling or cheese; and other completely unhealthy but probably delicious foods like fried chicken and pizza.

On the way to the checkout, I found a stack of containers filled with some unidentifiable vibrantly red ingredient. They glistened under the fluorescent lights and I was pulled in. The label said they were chamoyada de mango—dried mangos with chile. Okay, they looked interesting and they are, but kind of chewy and not really snackable. One of my tasting partners had a great idea for them, however—cut them into small pieces and serve them on cheese and crackers as an appetizer. I liked it and am passing that onto you as something unique to serve with drinks.

As usual, there’s a lot more to see and taste. I’m planning on returning for more garbanzos and ceviche. And, what makes Northgate especially tempting is its location. Take the 805 to 43^rd St. and the freeway exit drops you right in front of the store’s driveway.

Northgate González Market is located at 1410 S. 43^rd St.

Have some thoughts about Northgate González Market or other ethnic markets in San Diego? Do you have a favorite neighborhood market or shop that carries unique or unusual foodstuff? Let me know or add to the conversation by clicking on comments below:

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Foodland Mercado: La Vida Dulce in El Cajon

Being so close to the Mexican border, San Diegans have long had a natural affinity for Mexican and Latin food. But, authenticity hasn’t always been part of the experience, especially if all it embraces is Taco Bell, El Torito or Acapulco. I was stunned when I moved here from L.A. almost 20 years ago to find the offerings so bland and limited. That, however, has long since changed and both the restaurant scene and the markets embrace our region’s strong Hispanic roots.

It’s easy now to take for granted the selection of tomatillos, chayote squash, papayas and half a dozen different fresh chiles in Henry’s or even big supermarket chains. But if you want real immersion on this side of the border, it’s available at Foodland Mercado. Last Sunday, I visited the El Cajon store with my friend Angela Nava and her mom Bertha. While the El Cajon store is their favorite, Dallo Enterprises, the company that owns Foodland, also operates two others, on Highland Ave. in National City and in San Diego on Federal Blvd. near Euclid Ave. They also own Eduardo’s in San Diego on National Ave. at 32^nd St. and Hometown in Chula Vista on E. St. And, something that may surprise you. Dallo Enterprises owns the upscale Jonathan’s, Harvest Ranch and Orchard Market.

The Foodland in El Cajon is a bustling place. Along with a bountiful produce department and aisles filled with the usual supermarket fare, Foodland has a pasteleria, or bakery, that turns out sweet breads and pastries, a taqueria serving fresh hot foods, a tortilleria that makes corn tortillas daily and flour tortillas on Wednesdays, a cheese counter overflowing with wheels of queso fresco and queso panela and containers of cremas (sour cream), and a robust meat department. Piñatas hang en masse from the ceiling and festive Latin music completes the feeling that you could easily be shopping in a prosperous Mexican neighborhood.

What hit me first when I walked in was the sweet scent of the bakery. That fragrant melding of sugar and yeasty dough embraces you at the door and tugs you in. Long tables are filled with cakes and flat rounds of bread made with molasses called cema. I bought a loaf of cema con fibre, a whole wheat bread with an undertone of sweetness to it, delicious sliced and lightly toasted, topped with butter and honey. In bins across from the breads are the pan dulces, or sweet breads. Most of us are familiar with churros, the long fried doughnut-like pastries rolled in cinnamon sugar. Foodland has those, but there are also a variety of sweet rolls, nameless unfortunately. Some were frosted with coconut.

Others were thinly iced on top with vanilla or chocolate. Still another, called a bisquete, looks like a cross between a biscuit and a brioche. I bought one and had it for breakfast the next morning. A few minutes in the toaster oven brought it both warmth and a slight exterior crispness. Inside, folds of a yellow dough, like egg bread, peeled away in layers, soft and just a little sweet. Definitely something to return for.

Like many markets, Foodland has a deli case with prepared foods. Pre-chopped containers of cilantro seemed a little silly to Bertha, but nearby were containers filled with more promising products: both fish and shrimp ceviche, tuna salad with corn, ensalada de nopales (prickly pear cactus pads) and, naturally, a variety of salsas. Roja, verde, Mexicana and a surprising red salsa de tomatillo (tomatillos, with their papery husks, are decidedly green). I bought a container of the salsa Mexicana—basically a flavorful pico de gallo, sans the heat—and the ensalada de nopales.

For the salad, the nopales undergo a cooking process that includes pulling out sharp spines, peeling/scraping the pads of remaining nodes and boiling to get rid of the okra-like mucilagenous liquid (let's just be honest and call it slimy stuff). Once they're sliced, they look and taste like slightly sour al dente green beans. Then they're tossed with thin slices of red onion and crumbled queso fresco. Recipes I've seen also include olive oil, salt and pepper, of course, along with sliced green onions, diced radishes, cilantro, diced serrano chiles and dried oregano. If you're feeling adventurous, you can buy nopales at Foodland and try this. Grilling is also a popular technique and I'm told they're delicious with grilled meats. As for the salsa and salad, for days I enjoyed both, tucked inside corn tortillas from a package still warm when I picked it up at the tortilleria.

The tortilleria. This is authentic down to the vats of limewater in which the dry maize grain soaks to remove the outer hull before being ground into masa (if you want to get technical, the process is called nixtamalization). While corn tortillas are easy to make (buy a bag of masa and follow the recipe on the package) and taste so much better than commercially packaged tortillas, if you can’t make them yourself, buy them from a tortilleria. They’re a wondrous thing. And, the chips that follow are just as sublime. For decades I’ve been mad for the fat, paprika-laced chips from El Indio, but Foodland’s may just have displaced them. Lighter, less salty and less greasy, they still stand up to a thick, chunky salsa and complement the flavor. El Indio’s chips are assertive lead actors. Foodland’s are delicious ensemble players. The tortilleria also makes gorditas (thick corn tortillas), fried tostadas and buñuelos (flour tortillas fried and sprinkled with cinnamon sugar). And, if you’re motivated to make your own tortillas, Foodland sells aluminum tortilla presses and tortilla warmers as well as bags of masa.

Opposite the tortilleria in the back of the store are the cheese counter and meat department. In the cheese case are 12-pound wheels of queso fresco—mild, salty and crumbly—and wheels of queso panela, which is less salty and has less fat. Both have a texture similar to feta. Angela and I were curious about the queso enchilada, an aged, part-skim milk cheese coated in red chili powder.

We asked for samples, and agreed it was extremely salty. When you go, feel free to ask to taste the many cheeses they stock. You’ll also find large tins of olive oil, jugs of olives, pickled pig’s feet and other delicacies.

Surrounding the cheese counter are cases of fresh meat and poultry as well as a fish section. While some of the fish and shellfish looked frozen/defrosted, the meat was clearly fresh—honeycomb beef tripe for menudo, beef marrow guts, tongue, oxtails, large cuts of pork shoulder and pork feet. In another case were packages of fresh—not frozen—Cornish game hens. And stacked on a table nearby were three-pound packages of very white slabs of pork lard. Angela insisted I try the chicharonnes (pork cracklings), both plain and con carne, something I’d never had. I may never eat it again because it’s simply pure deep fried fat, but, oh, it proves how unfair life can be that something so delicious is so bad for you.

Once I got that out of my system, we headed over toward the produce section. On the way, I stopped to ogle the loose dried chiles, beans and tamarindo, a brown, pod-like legume often made into a drink, but also made into hard candies. In front of the dried products was a basket filled with piloncillo, unrefined Mexican brown sugar (the name refers to its cone shape).

You can substitute it for brown sugar in recipes. I found an intriguing recipe for pralines using piloncillo on gourmetsleuth.com:

Piloncillo Pralines

1 1/2 c. sugar
8 to 9 oz. piloncillo, softened and chopped
1/2 c. plus 2 tbl. whole milk
6 tbl. butter
1 1/2 c. pecan pieces, toasted
1/2 tsp. ground canela (cinnamon)
2 tsp. vanilla extract

Grease a 24-inch sheet of wax paper. Set it on several thickness of newspaper.

Combine all ingredients except the vanilla extract in a heavy saucepan. Bring to a boil slowly so that the piloncillo melts and continue cooking, stirring constantly, until the mixture reaches the soft ball stage, 238°F.

Add vanilla extract, remove the pan from the heat, and continue stirring as the candy cools. When the mixture becomes creamy and cloudy, and the pecans remain suspended while stirring, spoon the mixture onto the wax paper. You can make pralines of any size. Work quickly, before the candy hardens in the pan. The pralines set as they cool.

These are best the day they are made, but they will keep for several days if tightly covered. Use leftover pralines by crumbling them over ice cream. You can also pour the praline mixture into a pan and cut it like fudge.

The produce at Foodland is sparkling fresh. Of course, we found a wealth of chiles—deep green jalapeños, vibrant orange habaneros, anaheims perfect for stuffing with cheese and a variety I hadn’t seen before, manzanos.

These gorgeous round chiles take their name from their apple shape. Hot? Mild? I had no idea. Bertha said they could be either, depending on the color, which ranged from a light green to yellow to bright orange, and sometimes, just the individual chile. She prepares them by slicing them thinly and adding sliced onion, lemon or lime juice and salt. Marinate them overnight and enjoy them as a relish or add them to meat or poultry on the grill or in the saute pan. I bought about half a dozen and followed her directions (adding both lemon and lime). The chiles have the thick, firm consistency of a bell pepper and, as she said, some slices were full of fire while others were perfectly mild. I’m still working my way through the relish, but today I added cubed roma tomatoes and cubed avocado to make more of a salsa cruda (jicama or cucumber would be other good additions). I’ll probably top a grilled seabass fillet with it or just stuff it into a warm corn tortilla.

Another unfamiliar fruit I saw Bertha told me was a “tuna”—cactus fruit or prickly pear in English. She was right. And wrong. The store labeled them “xoconoixtle” and it turns out they are cactus fruit, but not the sweet tunas Bertha eats; instead a very sour variety often used for seasoning stews and salsa.

My friend Armando, a gallery owner who was raised in Mexico City but now lives and works in Rosarito, explained to me later that a buddy of his from Arrandes, near Tequila, slices them very thin and eats a slice after every sip of tequila instead of lime. It sounded interesting so I tried it. I loved the xoconotli (another spelling and pronounced “so-con-know-slee”); it has the texture of a ripe pear and the flavor of a Meyer lemon. However, it didn’t work for me as a tequila chaser because the tequila overwhelmed it. When I reported back to Armando, he pointed out that by the time the fruit gets up here, it’s lost some of its potency so it’s a better partner to tequila before it travels north. As a child, Armando spent a lot of time at the local markets with his mother and aunt and recalled a stew they made called caldo de olla, with vegetables and oxtail. In the last hour of cooking, sliced xoconotli would be added to provide a slightly acidic taste and help cut the fat.

The Navas wouldn’t let me leave Foodland without trying something from the taqueria, which got no argument from me. There were tacos, tortas and burritos to try, but Angela decided on sopes. It’s not unlike a small tostada, but instead of a flat tortilla, the sopes base is a very thick corn tortilla, almost tart-shaped in that the sides raise up about half an inch. They’re filled with beans, carne asada, shredded lettuce, cheese, crema and salsa. This is not date food. You pick it up and take a bite and whatever doesn’t go in the mouth slides down your face, your hands, your arms. In short, it can be a mess, but a delicious one.

Foodland Mercado is located at 1099 E. Main St. in El Cajon.

Have some thoughts about Foodland Mercado or other Latin markets in San Diego? Do you have a favorite neighborhood market or shop that carries unique or unusual foodstuff? Let me know or add to the conversation by clicking on comments below: