Chocolate Banitsa (a variation on a Bulgarian tradition)

Earlier this year, Abbie called me up to see if I wanted to come on a trip with her. She had some vacation time to use up and was thinking of France. Obviously, I'm up for a trip, but I've been to France. And Abbie spent every summer of her childhood in France.

I suggested a game I like to call the EasyJet Lottery, in which you simply choose EasyJet's cheapest destination and go there. But before we did any of the requisite research, I remembered that Bobby was spending the month in Bulgaria, and we decided to visit him. Turns out, it is one of the cheaper destinations anyway, so we did fulfil the spirit of the adventure in cheapness, if not in randomness.

Bobby showed us nearly everything there was to see his city, which he obviously loves. Then we all went to this little village called Melnyk. It's in the Pirin Mountains, near the Greek border, and it's just beautiful there. Bobby (the best host ever) had to go back to the city after one day, but Abbie and I spent a few days there alone, hiking in the mountains and eating all kinds of unfamiliar but delicious foods. They have SUCH good food in Bulgaria!

Granted, the goodness of the food we got in restaurants did decline after Bobby's departure, when we had to resort to pointing randomly into menus.

One evening, we completed the 10 leve challenge, in which we ate dinner for 10 leve or less (about £5 GBP). Browsing the menu, I settled on a glass of Melnishka (a Bulgarian brandy, 2.50 leve), a Russian salad (3.50 leve), and something called Drob Syrma, which was translated to Lamb Specialty (4.00 leve). I tasted everything and got all self-congratulatory. Yay, me! I ordered in a foreign language which I do not understand, and it all tasted pretty great and wow, what a successful meal!

As I ate the Drob Syrma, which was similar to a risotto with little chunks of lamb meat in it, I noticed something about the texture of the meat. On closer inspection, the meat was actually kidney and tongue and stomach. I made myself pretend that the giant chunks of vein were actually macaroni. And I got through most of it. But in the next-to last mouthful, I crunched down on something... that I can only assume was a kidney stone, and PHOOOOO! Pewey! Ptaw! That was the end of it for me.

The best of the Bulgarian food was by far the Banitsa. We went to every cafe in the village in search of the best banitsa. No surprise, the cafe that had the best banitsa was the one we went back to about twice a day. So, banitsa is a pastry that is traditionally made with filo dough, egg and white cheese (very similar to feta cheese) and it's just really really good. Since returning from Bulgaria, I've become a banitsa making fool, and have baked about a million of them. The variation I'm sharing with you now is one of my own concoction, although I suspect a Bulgarian would consider it a banitsa abomination, since chocolate is not something you'd normally find in one of these.

Chocolate Banitsa

2 packages filo pastry sheets
300 grams chocolate, chopped to bits
4 eggs
1.5 cups milk
3 tbsp sugar
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp cinnamon
butter

Liberally grease the bottom and sides of a 9x13" baking pan with butter. Fold one sheet of pastry in half, and place in the bottom of the pan.

On a fresh sheet of pastry, sprinkle some of your chocolate. Fold this pastry sheet into an accordion, ensuring the chocolate is distributed among the folds. Place the accordion in the pan, so that the folds are vertical. Repeat the folding process with additional sheets of pastry until you have filled your pan.

Crack eggs into a bowl. Add the milk, vanilla and cinnamon, and beat with an electric mixture until frothy. Next, spoon the egg mixture evenly over the pastry, ensuring that you pour a bit of egg in between the pastry and each side of the baking pan. Drop small knobs of butter over the top of the pastry.

Bake 35-40 mins at 200 C, or until the egg is set and the pastry is golden.

Serve hot or cold, at any time of day. This is especially good served with a hot cup of espresso.

Mexilicious

So, Brandon is surprisingly diverse ethnically. The Maple Leaf meat plant (epidemic free for over a year now!), brings people in from all over the world to work here, and many of them come from Latin America. There are two Mexican grocery stores in town, which means I'm up to my elbows in tortilla flour now!

My mom and Blair came to visit over the weekend, and we did up the Mexican food. We made homemade salsa, got some maseca and did up the tortillas, and made black beans hearkening back to our Guatemala days. We also got a bag of dried chipotles, and I made up chipotle chicken. I've never bought dried chipotles before, and here's what I learned about them:
1) They smell amazing.
2) They're freakin' hot.

And I mean hot. Burn your nosehairs off hot. I made up a sauce by pureeing a whole chipotle (possibly overkill), with 3 cloves of garlic and a can of crushed tomatoes. Did I mention it was hot? So I strained it out, discarded seeds and peel bits, added another can of tomatoes, and mixed it with shredded chicken. After it was watered down a bit it was actually pretty good. The table was beautiful - I can't believe I forgot to take pictures.

I also did up the Arroz con Leche that my friend Nelly taught me years ago. Nelly is a fantastic cook, and her Arroz con Leche (rice pudding) is legendary. The secret is the lime zest, which adds fantastic flavour and a bit of colour. I don't think she'd mind if I shared this one with you:

1 cup rice, soaked overnight (you don't have to soak it but it comes out better if you do)
1 litre milk
1 can evaporated milk
1 can condensed milk
1 stick cinnamon
1 lime, zested
1 dash vanilla (optional)
1 handful raisins (optional but encouraged)
powdered cinnamon for topping

Mix the milks, rice, cinnamon stick, lime zest, and vanilla in a pot and boil over a low head, stirring very frequently. Boil until the mixture becomes very thick and the rice is soft to the taste. Stir in raisins. Pour into a cake pan or serving dish, and sprinkle with cinnamon. Allow to set for about 30 min. Buen Provecho!