From Argentina With Love

Tarta Pascualina--Easter Spinach Ricotta Pie

 
A couple of years ago, I posted a great recipe for Tarta Pascualina with roasted red peppers that was sent to me by a reader in Washington.  Since this dish is popular in Argentina during this season, I'd share another variation of the recipe.  Pascua is the Spanish word for Easter, so Tarta Pascualina literally means 'Eastertime Tart'.

What makes this dish extra-special is that under the crust, little wells have been made in the filling, and eggs are cracked into each well.  The average Tarta Pascualina has between 6 to 8 eggs per pie, which get cooked inside the filling as the tarta bakes.  When the Pascualina is served, each slice has a cross-sectioned hard-cooked egg in it.

Since Easter is right around the corner, we're eating all the traditional Lent and Easter season foods at our house.  One of the most typical for this time of year is this tart--a Spinach and Ricotta pie--great for observing Lent since it's meatless.  The eggs in the dish make it an obvious choice for Easter, but really, it's delicious with or without the eggs, at any time of year.  Served as a main dish, it can be accompanied by baked sweet potatoes or corn on the cob, served as a side, it can accompany a family barbecue spread as a vegetarian option.

According to Katie of Seashells and Sunflowers, the recipe for Tarta Pascualina dates back to the 16th century, and was brought to Argentina by Italian immigrants from the Liguria region.  Chef Francis Mallmann says that the traditional recipe calls for 33 layers of pastry, representing the number of years Christ lived on earth. 

Today, though, we take a shortcut to make the much faster version of the dish, using pre-made tarta shells and frozen spinach--though of course, these can be done the slow way, too!  As Spring springs, enjoy this eggcentric dish--and save it for another time of year, too.

 

Tarta Pascualina

Eastertime Tart

Serves 6-8

Chard is also used frequently in Tarta Pascualina.  Feel free to use chard or a combination of chard and spinach.

2 tarta shells or pie crusts--store bought or homemade (one package contains 2 shells, available at Latin markets.  Pillsbury pie crusts also work well, and a homemade pie crust is excellent)

2 packages (9 oz.) frozen spinach

2 cloves garlic, crushed

1 cup ricotta cheese

1 cup mozzarella cheese, shredded

1 cup parmesan cheese, shredded

1/2 teaspoon nutmeg

1 teaspoon salt, or to taste

1/4 teaspoon pepper, or to taste

1 tablespoon cornstarch

2 tablespoons milk

6-8 eggs

butter, for greasing pan

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Defrost the spinach by heating in the microwave or in a pot on the stove top over medium heat.  Heat the spinach to defrost, but do not heat it up too hot.  Let cool before handling. Place the spinach in a linen towel, and squeeze out to drain the moisture from the spinach.  Not until it's totally dry, leave alittle moisture.  In a medium bowl, mix together the spinach, crushed garlic, ricotta, and the mozzarella and parmesan cheeses.  Season with the nutmeg, salt and pepper, and mix well to combine.  Dissolve the cornstarch in the milk, and add the milk mixture to the spinach and cheese mixture and stir well until incorporated.

Traditionally, Tarta Pascualina  is made using a spring-form pan.  However, a regular pie plate also works fine.  Grease the bottom of your pie pan or spring form pan with butter.  Line the bottom of your pie plate or spring-form pan with one of the tarta shells.  Put the filling into the shell.  Make 6-8 indentations in the filling (about one inch apart, and one inch from the edge of the pan) and crack an egg into each indentation.

Cover the pie with the other tarta crust.  Seal the edges by pinching together the two shells with your thumb and forefinger making an indentation, as you would seal an emapanada.  Slice a few vents in the top of the pie.  Optional: brush the top of the crust with beaten egg to give it shine.

Bake for 45 minutes, until the crust has turned a golden brown on top.  Slice and serve warm or at room temperature.

Pastel de Papas--Argentinean Shepherd's Pie

 
 

In the small Patagonian villages of San Carlos de Bariloche and Villa la Angostura, gnomes abound.  Yes, gnomes.  Shops all over town sell carved garden-style gnomes of all sizes, engaged in all sorts of activities.  They grace 'welcome' plaques, are fashioned into door-stoppers, or are figurines 'caught in the act' of everyday gnomish life.  Indeed, they are something of a town mascot.

The area, with its wooded lakeshore, charming alpine architecture, and quaint tea shops completely lends itself to that fantasy; it's easy to imagine a little gnome house deep in a thicket, under a giant red toadstool, or inside of a moss-covered log.

Niños Envueltos--Stuffed Cabbage Rolls in Tomato Sauce (Golubki)

 

Florencia, my mother-in-law, has roots in Kiev; in the era that her parents decided to emigrate to Argentina, the Ukraine experienced loads of political upheaval.  Her family was culturally and linguistically Ukrainian, but borders in that era were in constant flux, and post-WWI, Kiev was invaded by and became part of, at one time or other, the territory of Germany, Austria, Poland, and Russia, before being absorbed into the Bolshevik empire of the USSR in the 1940s.

To hear my suegra describe it, her teenage mother would go to school, and from one year to the next, classes would be held in German, Polish, Russian.  Her family, like so many others of the same generation, tired of the upheaval and destruction, decided instead to take their chances and strike out on their own, seeing a golden opportunity in South America. There, they could have a relatively peaceful, if hardscrabble life, and work the land.

 

 

Humitas en Chala con Queso de Cabra--Corn Pudding Tamales with Goat Cheese

 

Today you get a tidbit of Argentinean history along with your tidbit of food:

In 1879, the forces of Tucuman-born future oligarch of Argentina General Roca wiped out most of the indigenous peoples that inhabited the Pampa.  Such was the nature of conquest--'new' lands being colonized by to extend land expansion meant death or enslavement for native peoples--what amounted to a genocide of Mapuche tribes.  Roca's campaigns left the country with a 97% European population, and most of the land went into the hands of himself and his friends--a power that led to his election as president. 

 Sadly, so many indigenous traditions during campaigns such as Roca's are lost, but then, a few survive--and one of the things that most often carries on are recipes--because they are created from what is readily available in the area.  Argentina in the 1870s was pretty inhospitible for European immigrants, and the popularity of such native foods like squash, pumpkin and corn were due to the dearth of good quality greens, which is really the only way that recipes like this have carried on.

 

Milanesa a la Napolitana--'Neopolitan-Style' Schnitzel

 

Months ago, I wrote about how the iconic Milanesa got it's name--and while the dish was pilfered by an Austrian Count during a stay in Italy and  adopted by the Austrians as Wiener Schnitzel, those in Spanish-speaking countries use the name that's a nod to the city it came from.

In Argentina, they are so Italian that even their Spanish is spoken with an Italian accent (more than 60 percent of the population is of Italian descent) but don't let that fact or the name Milanesa a la Napolitana confuse you--this milanesa  is 100 percent Argentinean.

It starts with a grass-fed beef cutlet, breaded and fried.  But then, it dresses itself up as if it were a countess going to a costume ball in the era of Count Radetzky, a frilly, layered swath of temptation.  First goes on a  slice (or two) of thin, salty prosciutto.  A generous dressing of tangy tomato sauce.  Topped with thick slices of Mozzarella.  And the final touch--it's placed under the broiler until the cheese topping browns and bubbles.