
Okay, maybe I am getting a little carried away about something as simple as beer.



Today, I entered the Foodista Food Blog Contest, and I did not enter this recipe because the text of the original post was too long. Nevertheless, this carne asada post got more hits on my old blog than any other.
People just love taco shops and carne asada, the search results do not lie. So I am posting it again, even though I just posted carne asada fries the other day. Here is how to marinate, and make your own.
SECOND POST ON CARNE ASADA
Posted January 5, 2009
I got a comment asking for clarification on my carne asada recipe. Firstly, please forgive me for any confusion. I think I was just so excited over the success of making my own carne asada that I went too fast! Timeless recipes do that to me. The correction/clarification is in all caps below.
Here we go...my version of a Mexi-Cal classic;
CARNE ASADA
for marinade:
juice of one orange
juice of one lime
juice of one lemon
1/2 cup soy sauce
1-2 tbsp. cumin
1 tbsp. ground coriander
* 2 TBSP. CHILI POWDER *
2 tbsp. dried Mexican oregano
one bunch chopped fresh cilantro
one chopped yellow onion
1/2 cup honey
what I will add next time: tomato paste
2 lbs. flap steak
Let steak marinade overnight, rotate the meat within the marinade a few times to make sure flavor gets integrated. Grill about five minutes per side.
####
The reader who asked me to clarify on the chili pepper/chili powder ingredient is from behind what they called the "Redwood Curtain." I am guessing this means Northern California (NorCal). Thank you for reading, for sharing your Roberto's story with me, and for giving me the answer to this weekend's Sunday afternoon riddle (what to cook?). I had been wondering about that. And if it is NorCal I'm thinking, I want you to know I envy your location as well. Nine years ago I drove out of the Redwoods and saw/smelled the ocean intermingling with the forest, and it was an experience I will live my whole life and never forget. That and seeing wild blackberry bushes and wildflowers thriving along the two-lane highway, or finding sea glass aplenty on a beach in Mendocino.
Those provocations towards the senses make life worthwhile.
ORIGINAL POST
Posted September 11, 2008
Doesn't everyone eat Carne Asada burritos at 2:00 a.m.?
"When we travel to California, we make sure we go to Roberto's," I hear out-of-towners say. Roberto's, Royberto's Aliberto's, and Mariscos are all euphemisms for the prototypical western United States taco shop where Mexican fast food reigns among other fast food.
Since I was high school – we had off campus lunches – the taco shop to me has been a sure thing, a routine destination, and an icon of youth and southwestern culture. My college campus had taco shops, because trips and purchases there cure pre-exam jitters, post-exam hunger, hangovers and deliciously filled the need of between class re-fueling.
In the days before children, when I worked (I should say, got paid to work) and had strict one hour lunch breaks, the taco shop read my urgency and hunger, and complied every time. When I began this mommy thing, and my first child had to be driven around at night to get to sleep, the taco shop once again became a destination, as many taco shops are open 24/7. A new Mommy with a good memory, I would sit in my Jetta, baby in the back, watching singles leaving the bars or parties to reunite at the taco shop in the wee hours. It was cute. Or it wasn't pretty. But it has never changed.
Taco shop food comes wrapped in a waxy yellow paper or styrofoam box. The goodies found within are representative of the many levels of our lives, now that I think and write about it. Tortillas filled with cheesy, gooey, meaty, sour cream and salsa, or the enticing crunch from a rolled taco - I'll never stop eating this food. These days, I haul taco shop food to play dates, the park, soccer and baseball tournaments.
Or polish off the leftovers while everyone sleeps. ("Mom, what happened to my burrito?")
The taco shop aroma, it's just the familiar scent of home - grilled, spiced meat intermingling with salty sea air, smoke from a brush fire, or eucalyptus trees. It makes even the worst day better.
Every city in the United States has a McDonald's, but taco shops in the southwest, I think, must be like delis in New York or Cracker Barrels in the Midwest. Rustic regional food - it's just comforting to know there's one on almost every corner.
When they closed down the last Bob's Big Boy in San Diego, the first taco shop I ever saw went up in its place, the smoke emanating from the roof somewhere. Plastic tables sat out front, nailed to the ground. It was a newly built establishment, this eatery that uprooted Bob ( another blog), but it looked like it had been there for years. I gave it a shot. One taste, and I traded burgers for burritos.
The taco shop era of my life began. From junior high on, I fell in love with cilantro, easily afforded quesadillas, and only recently, discovered carne asada fries. Carne asada fries - strips of lean meat marinated in spices (these vary), placed atop French fries. That alone make this meat-and-potato girl curl my toes in anticipation, but the toppings make this dish; first, you've got the fries, then the grilled and chopped meat, then shredded cheddar and Monterey Jack cheese, sour cream, guacamole, cilantro, and salsa fresca. Potato nachos if you will, a meal that all three of my kids agree on. For pure indulgence, I get the California burrito - carne asada fries wrapped inside a tortilla with pico de gallo.
Many taco shops have up to 20 combination plates; enchiladas, tamales, rolled tacos, open tacos, with rice and beans. I usually get stuck deciding between rolled tacos - tortillas wrapped around shredded beef or chicken then fried - or chicken enchiladas. When I can't decide on that, I'll move over to the burrito menu and vacillate between macahaca, chorizo, pollo asada, or fajita. My husband never deters from his standard carne asada burrito. Everyone has a favorite.
In my experience in the food industry, I have met some masterful Mexican chefs who immigrated from south of the border. The best taco shops are backed by guys like them.
And I believe good food should be accessible to everyone, not just through a drive-up window.
"Macario, I need to know how to make the white sauce for fish tacos!"
"Does the chef share his ceviche recipe?"
"How did your abuela make it?"
"You're family is from Mazatlan? No kidding? Tell me about the beans!"
"Auntie, let's talk menudo while the kids are swimming."
When it's a recipe I want, I know how to talk to people. With some luck and their spirit of generosity, I now treasure my archives of fifty plus original Mexican recipes from artistic, ritualistic, innovative chefs with roots in Mexico who displayed - in the kitchens where I worked - instinct, good ingredient choices, and common sense: the food must taste good. Period.
I see these philosophies demonstrated every time I drive by a taco shop, the drive-thru packed, the service lines deep. Sometimes, I just don't want to wait in one of those lines. Sometimes - Quetzalcoatl forbid - traditional recipes are tinkered with and flavors thrown off.
So I made up my own. Macario, Mr. Gutierrez, and Aunt Rose Marie would be proud of me.
Here is my recipe for carne asada. I am reluctant to tell you that I used soy sauce which is probably not an original ingredient. However, I ran this by a friend of mine whose family knows carne asada and she seemed familiar with this addition. I need to do some more research on carne asada before I perfect this recipe, get it more authentic, but this was a good start. I grilled the carne asada last night before we went to Alex's ball game, and when we got home, I served salsa, guacamole, sour cream and corn tortillas with it. Alex finished whatever was left on his sister's plates (atta boy).
The meat is lean, the flavor is taco shop worthy, it's the perfect cure for Mexican food jonesing, little bodies enduring growth spurts, and family re-grouping after each one of us goes in a different direction during the day.
CARNE ASADA
for marinade:
juice of one orange
juice of one lime
juice of one lemon
1/2 cup soy sauce
1-2 tbsp. cumin
1 tbsp. ground coriander
2 tbsp. chili pepper
2 tbsp. dried Mexican oregano
one bunch chopped fresh cilantro
one chopped yellow onion
1/2 cup honey
what I will add next time: tomato paste
2 lbs. flap steak
Let steak marinade overnight, rotate the meat within the marinade a few times to make sure flavor gets integrated. Grill about five minutes per side.
FRESH SALSA
4 tomatoes, diced fine
1/2 white onion, diced fine
tomato paste (little bit)
garlic puree (you can find this in the produce section, or puree a few peeled cloves in a mini-chop processor)
lime juice
serrano pepper, diced fine (remove seeds - handle and discard carefully)
jalapeno pepper, diced fine (remove seeds - handle and discard carefully)
white pepper
coarse grain salt
chopped fresh cilantro
I haven't listed many measurements here because salsa is so subjective. Start out with small amounts of ingredients (except for those indicated with a specific amount), and add the other ingredients from there to your liking. For example, if the lime is particularly juicy, you needn't squeeze it dry. If the lime is small, squeeze until the last drop is released from the fruit, and add the zest, if you like. Trust yourself. Act like you've been making this all your life. Sometimes mojo begins with an illusion.
I begin with half of a serrano and half of a jalapeno. I then set aside some of the salsa and add the additional jalapeno and serrano, making a "spicy" bowl for my husband and son. I like mine mild, with extra cilantro.
If you just don't like how it looks, maybe the veggies are not diced fine enough, or whatever, puree the salsa in a blender. The chips don't know the difference!
Make sure you clean that blender well before getting started on the margaritas. When you get into college and beyond, you need more than a Coke to wash this food down.
