Arroz con leche (Rice with milk)
me quiero casar (I want to get married)
con una señorita que sepa bailar (with a young lady who knows how to dance)
que sepa coser, que sepa planchar (who knows how to sew, who knows how to iron)
que sepa abrir la puerta para ir a jugar. (who knows how to open up the door to go out and play).
I would always sing this song as a little girl with my sister and my mom. I was never sure what the meaning behind this song was…was it meant to teach little kids what was expected from a good wife? Who knows! All I knew was that my abuelita Maria del Carmen, a gentle woman with soft skin and long salt- and-pepper hair, was not going to teach me to be a good wife because she refused to teach me to cook (granted, I was only five years old) . She was known for being an amazing cook; her dishes always displayed a simple perfection, a good balance of flavors and always a sprinkle of affection. She was able to take her meager food allowance and multiply it to feed an army; there was always enough food for a hungry wanderer.
Abuelita gracefully dominated the kitchen as the most talented orchestra conductor; stern conductor that is. She had rules that were never to be broken; rule number 1: no kids in the kitchen, period! We all know how enticing such a kitchen can become to a curious little girl like myself…especially one with such a rule! My mission became to sit by the kitchen door and ask my abuelita over and over “can I help?” Of course I knew the answer, but I figured if she saw how badly I wanted to cut the onion, she would one day cave in. Truth be told, I wanted to experience the same emotions that everyone experienced when they cut the sweet crystal ball. Somehow it evoked aching memories of past loves and sweet tears would roll down their check as they laughed and blamed it on the innocent onion. Did I have a past love at the age of five…yeah, I had three. Two twins from my classroom that were cute and chubby with black curls sprouting from their head. I could not decide which one I liked so I decided I had a better chance if I liked them both. My third love, a handsome light-haired boy I would call canchito (little blond one) who lived a block away from abuelita’s house. How was I going to learn to become a good wife and marry one of my three loves if abuelita did not teach me to cook? I asked again, “can I help?” mildly annoying abuelita as I was distracting her from the task of accomplishing rule number 2: do not burn the tortillas! I was as persistent as I was curious, but I was facing a woman whose rules were NOT meant to be broken.
con una señorita que sepa bailar (with a young lady who knows how to dance)
que sepa coser, que sepa planchar (who knows how to sew, who knows how to iron)
que sepa abrir la puerta para ir a jugar. (who knows how to open up the door to go out and play).
I would always sing this song as a little girl with my sister and my mom. I was never sure what the meaning behind this song was…was it meant to teach little kids what was expected from a good wife? Who knows! All I knew was that my abuelita Maria del Carmen, a gentle woman with soft skin and long salt- and-pepper hair, was not going to teach me to be a good wife because she refused to teach me to cook (granted, I was only five years old) . She was known for being an amazing cook; her dishes always displayed a simple perfection, a good balance of flavors and always a sprinkle of affection. She was able to take her meager food allowance and multiply it to feed an army; there was always enough food for a hungry wanderer.
Abuelita gracefully dominated the kitchen as the most talented orchestra conductor; stern conductor that is. She had rules that were never to be broken; rule number 1: no kids in the kitchen, period! We all know how enticing such a kitchen can become to a curious little girl like myself…especially one with such a rule! My mission became to sit by the kitchen door and ask my abuelita over and over “can I help?” Of course I knew the answer, but I figured if she saw how badly I wanted to cut the onion, she would one day cave in. Truth be told, I wanted to experience the same emotions that everyone experienced when they cut the sweet crystal ball. Somehow it evoked aching memories of past loves and sweet tears would roll down their check as they laughed and blamed it on the innocent onion. Did I have a past love at the age of five…yeah, I had three. Two twins from my classroom that were cute and chubby with black curls sprouting from their head. I could not decide which one I liked so I decided I had a better chance if I liked them both. My third love, a handsome light-haired boy I would call canchito (little blond one) who lived a block away from abuelita’s house. How was I going to learn to become a good wife and marry one of my three loves if abuelita did not teach me to cook? I asked again, “can I help?” mildly annoying abuelita as I was distracting her from the task of accomplishing rule number 2: do not burn the tortillas! I was as persistent as I was curious, but I was facing a woman whose rules were NOT meant to be broken.
Now, at the age of 27, I must confess to abuelita that I did break into her kitchen one day. She was out running an errand and my Tia was in charge of making diner. I knew my Tia would cave in, and she easily did as she saw no fault in letting three young girls help in the kitchen. My sister, my cousin and I enjoyed every second of it! I don’t know what they were thinking, but I know I was delighted to be participating in the concert of cooking dinner. I even wore abuelita's cooing apron as I danced around the kitchen with a toothless smile.
Unfortunately, abuelita passed away and I was never able to record her recipes. Luckily my mother knows a few of them. When I visited Guatemala back in 2005 (after 15 years of being gone) I tried to ask my Tia for some of abuelita’s recipes, but as expected, her response was, “just add a little bit of this and a little bit of that.” In order not to let the few of the recipes I know banish…I am committed to record them in this blog.
The following is the recipe for my abuelita’s Arroz con Leche. Depending on her mood she sometimes added raisins to this lovely treat.
Arroz con Leche
This recipe takes more than 11/2 hours to cook.
4 oz of short-grain rice
4 cups of water
4 cups of hot milk
1 cinnamon stick
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
ground cinnamon
Boil water with cinnamon stick and salt. Bring down to a simmer and add rice and sugar; cook for 45 minutes stirring frequently. Add hot milk and continue to cook at a simmer for 45-60 minutes. Don;t forget to stir the rice every so often.
Divide the Arroz con Leche in bowls or cups and top with ground cinnamon. Buen provecho!
This recipe takes more than 11/2 hours to cook.
4 oz of short-grain rice
4 cups of water
4 cups of hot milk
1 cinnamon stick
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
ground cinnamon
Boil water with cinnamon stick and salt. Bring down to a simmer and add rice and sugar; cook for 45 minutes stirring frequently. Add hot milk and continue to cook at a simmer for 45-60 minutes. Don;t forget to stir the rice every so often.
Divide the Arroz con Leche in bowls or cups and top with ground cinnamon. Buen provecho!
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