Day 18 – Picadillo for the Soul

We are in a time for comfort food: the nostalgia infused dishes we associate with the warmth and safety of the home. Having left my native Cuba at an early age, I have collected a multicultural arsenal of comfort foods. Some date back to the Havana of my childhood. Many others have intersected my gustatory memories during decades residing in the US: the place where I grew up and learned to appreciate meatloaf and mashed potatoes, chicken pot pie, brisket, chicken dumplings, and melted cheese sandwiches.

I also have a passion for all things French that expand from museums, fashion, and music to a gourmand’s inclination: coq au vin, boeuf bourguignon, or cassoulet. Thin toasts with pâté foie gras and fig marmalade envelop my taste buds with just the exact touch of decadence. Love of Spain comes through in the preference for braised oxtail and codfish. But Spanish croquetas, made with perfectly thickened bechamel sauce, top the list. I could live on croquetas and delicately sliced Iberian ham.

The sweet crown to comfort foods is also a bridge to the culinary traditions that enrich my life. Arroz con leche by any other name: whether rice pudding, riz au lait, or rizo e latte, is a uniquely homey dish. The fragrant confection made with milk-cream, rice, sugar, Ceylon cinnamon sticks, and lemon peel produces comfort food to the oomph degree. Whether in Miami or Paris, New York, Florence, or Barcelona, those pillowy puffs of citrusy creamy sweet milk thickened with rice starch line the conducts of my memories like a warm comforter tucking me in on a winter night. Rice pudding gives me solace. It’s a refuge from an imperfect world.

However, picadillo holds a special place in my culinary hierarchy. My version is a mix of ground beef sautéed in chopped onions, minced garlic, cubed fresh (peeled and seeded) tomatoes, with caper, olives, and diced potatoes. A splash of white wine, salt, and pepper to taste, et voilà. As if by magic, it transports me to the family dinner table with the chatter of different conversations happening simultaneously; we, Cubans, have expertise at choreographing banter with precision. Given that I make large quantities, most of the time, there’s enough to make shepherd’s pie, another favorite.

My affinity for picadillo transcends from childhood to adult life. But that’s not all. It connected later to my daughter, whose preference for a meal built around it is such that my granddaughter also relishes it.

A few days ago, amid the COVID-19 quarantine, SM announced: “I’m making picadillo!”  It felt as if we would be getting together around the same dinner table for a family meal. It felt as if things were getting back to normal. That’s what picadillo does to us; it’s equal to a celebration at a time of social distancing.

Our idea of a post-COVID-19 quarantine meal: picadillo, brown rice, and arugula salad, slices of crunchy baguette rubbed with fresh garlic and slathered in crushed fresh tomatoes. A glass of crisp, cold Sancerre to toast the return to living more socially connected. And warm arroz con leche sprinkled with cinnamon to top it off.