I love my mom. It is for my love of food that I owe her my life. It was she who fed me but most importantly, she introduced me to her vast knowledge of spices, fruits, and vegetables.
The many daily chores I saw my mother accomplish while I was a youngster was memorable since she had attended to six children, one big child (my dad), and herself. Can you imagine the work she had to do? Amazing! That will be another story for later but today I want to reflect on the wonderful foods that she made for her family.
My mother, Maura Luna, came from a family of master cooks that had a strong family tradition of Texan and Mexican blends of cooking...some may call it Tex Mex with a Luna twist. My mother learned many recipes from her mother, which were passed down through generations.
As the wife of an American soldier, Mom was blessed with an opportunity to travel overseas to be with her husband as well as taking her children along. The US government provided perks such as housing and medical care. As my dad worked up the military ranks, they also provided local servants to help out with everyday maintenance such as cooking, cleaning, laundry, and lawn care. My earliest memories of food began when we were stationed in Japan when I was 6 years old in the late 1950s. My mother had a mama-san (a Japanese house mother) who helped take care of us kids and cooked for us. She mostly made noodles and oriental soup variations but my father, who grew up with huevos rancheros (Spanish style eggs) soon put his foot down on the noodle dishes. He thought that she and his new family, even in Japan, should learn my mother's style of cooking.
It was my mom's flour tortillas that started my food lover's journey that influenced the rest of my life. She learned this simple and cheap skill from her mother and I grew up watching her almost daily make homemade tortillas. On a clean counter top she threw together some flour, salt, lard, and warm water to create a smooth, white dough. She would then pinch off a bit at a time to roll into balls, flatten them out by hand, then use a rolling pin to make perfectly round tortillas. Next, she would cook them on a hot griddle, turning them over to slightly brown both sides, then place them in a cloth layered basket to keep in the heat. Of course, the smell was so heavenly that we hungry kids would sneak a bite until she put a stop to it. There is nothing more wonderful than a hot, homemade tortilla smothered with butter and Mom's love.
Mom also made a mean huevos rancheros for breakfast. She would start out by making fresh a pico de gallo that was to die for by grinding garlic and herbs together in a molcajete (a stone bowl or mortar and a pestle to grind spices). In a hot skillet with olive oil, she would toss in fresh cut tomatoes and onions, the ground herb sauce, salt and pepper, then set it aside. Of course, the bacon was ready and waiting by this time and the grease was ready for perfectly fried eggs. My mother knew the exact time to turn over an egg, not too runny but not too hard. (I too follow my mother's example about over easy eggs. It's an art form.) For the children, she made scrambled eggs.
Mom would always have a big bowl of cooked pinto beans in the fridge. On her hot griddle with bacon grease, she added the cold beans to make fresh frijoles refritos (refried beans). Mom would then plate the eggs, bacon, and beans then pour pico de gallo on top. Tortillas were served on the side to sop up the sauce. Breakfast perfection! Huevos rancheros with flour tortillas is still my all time favorite dish. Breakfast at Mi Tierra restaurant in San Antonio is my second favorite.
My mother was every bit the Betty Crocker mom of the fifties and sixties. She dressed the part, had the in style hair do, and owned the latest kitchen gadgets as well as wearing an apron. Her desire to expose her family to worldly and innovative recipes was fulfilled through cookbooks and the local cooking styles of the countries we were stationed in. Oh yes, she experimented on our stomachs but her tried and true rice with chicken is my second favorite 'Mom' dish. She would make the best Spanish rice by frying the grains first, briefly frying chicken portions, then steaming them all together to perfection. When served with pinto beans and flour tortillas, it tasted soooooo good.
For breakfast, she made both oatmeal and porridge. We loved her rice atole (Mexican rice pudding) with cinnamon. Almost every night after dinner she would fry up some flour and other ingredients to make tasty bunuelos. With cocoa or coffee, they were a cheap and easy dessert for us kids. One of my favorite desserts was her infamous apple dumplings. She would roll out some dough and stuff each pocket with apple, spices, and sugar juice then top them with cinnamon, butter and raisins before baking. These were a huge hit with my family! We lived for her apple dumplings.
Mom would also make an assortment of cookies, pies (pumpkin, pecan, cherry, and my favorite lemon meringue) and cakes (I especially loved her German chocolate) from scratch but the best part of all her cooking was the love she put into each dish. She really made a great effort to bestow everything she had to give her very best. Not all of it was delicious but I consider it a culinary journey...we all survived. I loved my mother's cooking and have attempted to recreate some of it for my own family.
NOTE: This story is dedicated to Maura Luna Balli on her 83rd Birthday on November 29th. Happy birthday Mom!
