Ensaimadas
We spent a chunk of the weekend (minus the driving part) on the top of a snowy mountain. W went skiing for the first time (us in our boots, coaxing him toward each other at the bottom of one of the more secluded hills). Beyond that, and watching the Olympics, and drinking vast quantities of wine, we had intense and excited conversations about lard. You can imagine the boys were relentless in their taunting that their wives’ weekend revolved around a side of pig fat. (“It’s Saturday night – what are you doing? We’re rendering pig fat!”) They nonetheless reaped the benefits of our efforts, and liked it.
But first, while I backtrack to the point where we decided to make lard our weekend activity, I should backtrack further. There’s no point being elusive about the friend I’ve come to visit; you may have noticed here here, subtly popping up now and then in the comments. Sue is just an excellent person. The shyest two at our small Junior High school, we were thrust together by teachers playing matchmaker for the ones who just didn’t seem to have much in the way of social standing. It was a good call. We spent our formative years listening to U2 and the Clash, wearing tights and slingbacks, dating British boys and pouring mickeys of rye into Super Big Gulps. And speaking of boys -we met Mike at her big sister’s apartment, and it was up for debate over the course of that first year which one of us would go around with him (I told her she could have him).
Sue had always wanted to be a barnstormer, eventually got her pilot’s license, and snatched herself up her very own pilot in the process. About a decade ago they produced a baby girl (who when she was brand-new looked like a Maurice Sendak drawing – and I mean that in the cutest possible way) and soon after relocated to the top of a mountain in BC, very close to exceptional skiing, he being an ex-speed skier in New Zealand and still thoroughly obsessed with the sport.
Which is all to say I WISH SHE LIVED CLOSER. (No pressure if you’re reading this, Sue.) But as is so often the case I probably see her as often as my Calgary friends, she having access to cheap flights via her most excellent West Jet pilot husband, and conveniently living halfway between Calgary and Tofino. And when we do see each other, it’s good quality time spent.
Who am I kidding? I still wish she lived closer. I think the old adage absence makes the heart grow fonder only applies to romantic situations in which logistics prevent you from being bothered by the facts of domestic life – socks on the floor, annoying bathroom habits and the like – and the, ahem, benefits never stagnate.
There are two things you should know about Sue: 1) she’s an unbelievable cook, and appreciates food in all the same ways I do (when we see each other we invariably make fruitcakes or jam or something, and if not the conversation is very food-centric, which actually works out just fine because the boys are always busy discussing planes), and 2) she’s a brilliant writer. She reads as much as I always intend to. Even her emails are good reads. She’s also very smart – she was the one getting marks in the high 90s in physics and math while math was the bane of my teenage existence and I Forest Gumped my way through English having not actually read Hamlet (but still managed an 83%!). I keep telling her she should combine the two somehow and I don’t know – write a blog or something – but so far she hasn’t, so I thought I’d swoop in and steal her for myself, and ask if she might like to do an occasional guest post here, just to get her toes wet. (I suppose that wasn’t the very best analogy for a food blog, but you get the gist.)
Anyway. We’re equally enthusiastic about food and its preparation, so there’s almost always a cooking project on the table – something we likely wouldn’t bother with if the other wasn’t there to hold our hand and share in the revelry. A couple weeks ago, when it was confirmed we’d be coming to visit, she sent an email saying oh goody – and let’s make these! Using lard we make from scratch! Which I admit is something I’d considered doing in the past, but only briefly – the stigma of pure white pig fat acts as effective deterrent.
But here’s something I didn’t know: lard made from pure rendered pig fat is lower in saturated fat than butter. For real! Although the thought, I concede, is a little gag-inducing, it was a big selling point to go ahead and make some. And it does fall into the whole food category – unprocessed, no additives – I know exactly what’s in it. I’d rather eat pork fat from a farm in BC than most of what comes in a tub and is labeled as some sort of butterlike spread.
So as soon as I walked in the door on Saturday afternoon and dropped my suitcase, Sue presented a slice of pig – a giant slab of fat and skin, which we promptly set about chopping – or rather sawing – to set in a cast iron pot and melt in the oven. Our blades didn’t slide through it like butter, as we expected it to – it was more like chewing through leather – we took turns and enlisted Mike’s help to get it into little pieces to put in the pot. (Note to self: get the butcher to grind it next time. Or score and throw in with skin intact, to let the fat melt off? Also: try it in the slow cooker.)
It sat on the stove for awhile before we popped it in the oven at its lowest temperature when it came time to go to bed. (The idea is that you melt the fat without browning it – adding a bit of water helps prevent this, and cooks off as the fat is rendered.) Poor Lola sat in waiting, hoping some pork bits would spontaneously jump from the pot. They didn’t.
In the morning we poured the fat off of the clumpy, sticky bits of skin (is this what’s supposed to turn into cracklings? they never did) and chilled it. It came out solid but spreadable, pure white and fairly benign in flavour. It had an appealing texture – creamy and soft, like whipped Vaseline – softer than butter – evidence of its lower saturated fat content.
There was much hoopla and speculation over the potential pastry and biscuits it might produce. From the two of us, anyway – everyone else in the house looked up from speed skating and moguls (yay Bilodeau!) and rolled their eyes. But I bet if we had made biscuits and pie, they’d have eaten them. It’s probably a good thing we left early enough this morning to not have time for more lard-baking. And can you imagine the roasted potatoes?
So this was all lard-making for the sake of lard-making, but also to produce the Ensaimadas Sue had seen on Delicious Days.
We made the dough using fresh yeast (half a pound for a little over a dollar, and it worked swimmingly) – it’s a lovely, soft dough made with eggs and olive oil, rolled it out, brushed it with the lard, rolled and coiled each piece and set them aside to rise as we went to collect the kids from craft night in the village.
We made the mistake of baking them before dinner, and sprinkled them as they emerged from the oven with icing sugar – they were light, soft and ethereal. But oh the possibilities! For this dough (wonderfully light and slightly sweet, with no butter) as well as their shape – I’m dying to make a cinnamon bun in this form; the sugar and cinnamon and nuts enclosed in its spiral and then coiled like a snail shell; in fact, the next time I make a roll of cinnamon buns rather than cut them into rounds I’ll try coiling the lot, baking it and then slicing into wedges. They were just so pretty – and I imagine doing them this way would prevent overly sticky fingers. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, unless you’re short on napkins.
Besides cinnamon, we fantasized various cheese blends with garlic, pesto and prosciutto, mincemeat. The very best kind of recipe is that which begets even more creations.
Ensaimadas
AuthorJulie
In a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar and salt. Make a hollow in the middle, crumble in the yeast and a pinch of sugar and pour over enough of the milk to cover; stir just the yeast and milk once or twice, then cover the bowl with a kitchen towel and let rest for about 15 minutes or until the surface of the yeast milk looks bubbly.
Add the rest of the ingredients (the remaining milk, eggs and olive oil) stir until a dough forms and then knead on a lightly floured countertop for a few minutes, until smooth. (The dough was a little sticky; don't worry about it.) Put it back in the bowl, cover and let rest in a warm place for 30 minutes to an hour, or until doubled in size.
Punch it down softly, then flip the dough onto a lightly floured surface and sprinkle with a little flour. Cut the dough into 10 equally sized portions and form into balls, then let them rest on a baking sheet, covered with a towel, for another 30 minutes.
Flatten each ball of dough and roll out into a thin circle and brush with the softened pork lard. Roll each up loosely, then coil so that it resembles a snail's shell; keeping it a bit loose as the dough will rise further. Place about five ensaimadas on each baking sheet, making sure to leave enough space between them. Lightly brush with lard (if you like - we missed this step) and cover up again. Let them rise for 1-4 hours, until nice and poufy; or if you want them for the next morning, refrigerate overnight, which will slow the rise.
Preheat the oven to 390° F and bake for 14 to 16 minutes, or until golden. Dust with icing sugar and eat while still warm.
Ingredients
Directions
In a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar and salt. Make a hollow in the middle, crumble in the yeast and a pinch of sugar and pour over enough of the milk to cover; stir just the yeast and milk once or twice, then cover the bowl with a kitchen towel and let rest for about 15 minutes or until the surface of the yeast milk looks bubbly.
Add the rest of the ingredients (the remaining milk, eggs and olive oil) stir until a dough forms and then knead on a lightly floured countertop for a few minutes, until smooth. (The dough was a little sticky; don't worry about it.) Put it back in the bowl, cover and let rest in a warm place for 30 minutes to an hour, or until doubled in size.
Punch it down softly, then flip the dough onto a lightly floured surface and sprinkle with a little flour. Cut the dough into 10 equally sized portions and form into balls, then let them rest on a baking sheet, covered with a towel, for another 30 minutes.
Flatten each ball of dough and roll out into a thin circle and brush with the softened pork lard. Roll each up loosely, then coil so that it resembles a snail's shell; keeping it a bit loose as the dough will rise further. Place about five ensaimadas on each baking sheet, making sure to leave enough space between them. Lightly brush with lard (if you like - we missed this step) and cover up again. Let them rise for 1-4 hours, until nice and poufy; or if you want them for the next morning, refrigerate overnight, which will slow the rise.
Preheat the oven to 390° F and bake for 14 to 16 minutes, or until golden. Dust with icing sugar and eat while still warm.
I took my kids to the killing floor of a butcher shop last week and we watched the whole process. They were butchering pigs while we were there, and the guy showed me the different places where the lard comes from. He said the kidney fat (and he showed me a huge, 2-3 foot strip of it that was left attached to the pig’s cavity) makes the best lard because it melts at higher temperatures. I thought it all profoundly interesting…
The rolls look delish. My mom is, at present, working to perfect her sugar cookie that she makes with lard. Yum.
hi there — i think i might be delurking with this comment — but i just have to tell you how much i enjoyed/appreciated this post! the best pies are made with lard, and i have often wondered how to go about rendering my own. (i also find myself frequently joking that you can figure out where you are based on where and in what quantity you can find lard in the grocery store: in the southwestern US, tubs of it are in the baking aisle. now that i live in the northeast, good luck — you’ll find small packages near the butter. sometimes you can find lard in the imported mexican food section.)
anyway, thanks for this! sounds like you had a fantastic trip!
thanks for the food porn posting.
HAHA Rea!
I was at first disgusted by the thought of you rendering your own lard. Ugh. Now, I am pretty interested in these beautiful spiral rolls..hmmmm…
You girls are seriously cool…and your weekend – lard rendering and all – just sounds so fun!
Well now, if the lard didn’t suck me in, the looks of those stunning little rolls sure did. (Okay, the lard did, too). Never seen anything like it! Beautiful.
barefootrooster is right: this was a really spectacular post. I’ve always wanted to learn how to properly render pig fat–in fact, I’ve got ziplock bags of it in my freezer just waiting for my skill set to improve! Now, a blueberry pie crust made w/ non-scary lard is calling my name.
Thanks, Julie!
You are blessed to have a friend so in tune with your culinary interests. It’s neat to be able to dive right in and know your pal understands your obsessions. My friends (most in their 50s) roll their eyes when I mention even a “Y” peeler…only an elderly gent of 86 expresses the same passion for food, but living in a care home, he doesn’t get to cook much anymore!
My Blog Aid Cookbook was just delivered! It is beautiful! All your hard work produced a fabulous book!
I loved this post too. More because of your beautiful friendship than the lard truthfully. How lovely that you are still friends, still see each other, still have so much fun together… I’m so envious of that!!
Nice to have such a great lifelong best friend!
Amazing girlfriends are the absolute best thing ever (followed closely by homemade buns!!)! Wonderful post!
WOW! This is amazing. Usually I can doggedly follow along and pull off your delicious dishes ……. but I think I am going to chalk this one up to “leave it to the experts.”
I echo Vivian’s comment. The rolls look lovely and tender. I would plrobably have skipped right over hte recipe at the mention of rendering your own pork fat but I’m glad you didn’t!
Re your vending machine twitter request: Longview Beef Jerky
Update: This afternoon I walked to a nearby sausage and deli (on the off-chance that they’ve got butcher connections) and ordered three pounds of fatback! Exciting! Blueberry pie, here I come!
You had me at pork fat.
I loved your story Julie!! Almost brought a tear to my eye…… sniff sniff……. And OMG, delicious! I’d love to sink my teeth into one of those babies! MmmmMmmmMmmmmm!
That was amazing Julie! Such a weird and wonderful thing to read about and I’m so impressed that so many other commentors have actually tried or have been preparing to try making their own lard. I’m impressed- what an interesting/weird/useful thing to know how to do….
I felt squeamish about lard until I read Jennifer McLagan’s wonderful book, Fat. What a fun-sounding food weekend, and this recipe looks amazing. I’d love to make it soon – I know where to buy lard in Edmonton, so I probably won’t take the time to make my own, but maybe some day!
My first impression was “Lard? Ewwww” but those buns look amazing
I did it! I did it! I made lard!
How did it go???
It looks glorious. I’m thrilled.
Wow, those are bonafide works of art. The shape is so delightful.
I recently rendered lard for the first time after making charcuterie and the doggy gets a crackling or two everyday now.
I just ordered some pork fat (ground) from the butcher and I’m very excited to try making lard. I’ve been cooking with it more and more because of it’s beautiful texture. My pork will come without the actual skin, but the butcher assures me that I will be left some crispy bacon bits at the end. I sure hope so!
Hey Julie,
I’ve been dreaming about lard since your segment on the radio. Actually, had a few thoughts about commercial lard before that, but dismissed it because of the additives.
I’ve been enjoying the lard debate. I whole hog agree it’s the way to go.
I ordered 5 pounds of free range piggie fat, to pick up Friday. Sigh. I can hardly wait.
Blissfully in Hog Heaven
Many thanks
It’s really nice to see recipes like this posted around. One suggestion, true ensaimadas use strong flour (bread flour) not all purpose flour…the texture and flavor come off very different…also no milk is used…though I suppose it won’t hurt…I should know…I’m from Spanish descent, my grandmother use to make them a lot…I remember her rendering the lard and all that good stuff back when..keep up the good work…buen apetito…
Actually, Spanish Guy, in Canada our duram “A P flour” is equivalent to the strong, bread flour needed to bake such things in the US. For some reason in the US regular flour is softer, something about gluten content. Whatever one has to use, these little spirals are to die for!
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