Women in Third World Countries are Laughing at Me

Confession: I don't know how to make rice. I grew up on Minute Rice and stuck with the quick cooking stuff once I lived on my own, so, while I've followed recipes with passable results, I don't have a go-to method for making white rice. (I'm sure it surprises no one that grocery stores here don't carry Minute Rice.) 

Not long after Spanish teacher Sandra asked if I wanted a Dominican cooking lesson (duh!), we settled on rice with concón, a layer of crispy, browned granules on the bottom of the pot. We'd serve it with fried eggs - a common combo when a) there's nothing else in the house or b) a comfort food craving hits - and a tipile, a Dominicanized version of Middle Eastern tabbouleh salad. The latter wouldn't normally accompany arroz con huevo frito, but we wanted something fresh, and the typical sliced avocado doesn't require much in the way of teaching. 

First things first: Monday was grocery shopping day. The pot on the far left is key. Apparently you can't make proper rice with concón in any old pot; it has to be an aluminum caldero. My kitchen is now duly outfitted with one. It needed to be seasoned prior to use (by boiling salt water), similar to a brand new cast iron skillet, and Sandra says it'll last me a lifetime. 

I put the wheat for the tipile in water yesterday to soak overnight. Our version would be distinct from its origins in that it used cilantro instead of parsley and lime juice instead of lemon. 

Fellow missionary Caitlin and sous chef Abraham joined us in the kitchen.  

Sandra and I with her to-go container of tipile - it made a ton! I forgot to take a picture of the entire meal, plated, in my rush to eat, clean up, and get to a meeting. 

I guess now I should say I didn't know how to make rice. The concón method was entirely new to me and I was freaked out the entire time that it was going to burn, but it was crunchy and nutty and worth experimenting with again. The grating sound of a spoon scraping the concón from a caldero is, I'm told, the trademark of any Dominican kitchen around lunchtime. Per my request, my next lesson is going to be berenjena guisada (stewed eggplant), best served with you know what that you know who is in charge of...

Until next time, blessings!