U is for Uruguay

U is for Uruguay

Goededag, dames en heren! I’m writing to you from a little room in a very breezy Delft, in the Netherlands, where I’m putting my shamefully rusty Dutch through its paces in an intensive language course. So, I apologise if nothing in this post makes sense. At this moment in time, my brain is reminiscent of a melted ice cream, or indeed een gesmolten ijsje, as the folk here would say.

The dough and, well, my table

Blah blah blah, no-one cares about all that nonsense, I hear you cry. Alright, I’m back on track, on the food train, heading south west! The letter U was surprisingly plentiful in choice: I was expecting it to be a case of 3 or 4 countries, but once again, my utter lack of geographical knowledge led me astray. There were, in fact, 7 entire countries to choose from – and not bad ones at that. Having tackled Russia a few weeks ago, I ruled Ukraine out pretty sharpish, and the United Arab Emirates may as well have not been there at all, for all the enthusiasm I had for cooking food from the Gulf again. I was very tempted to have a total calorific blow-out and make any number of sinful dishes from the USA (chicken fried steak, mac ‘n cheese, a properly massive Devil’s food cake), or indeed to pay tribute to my homeland of the UK. Lord knows I can demolish a scone in about 3 seconds flat. But no, at the time of cooking, a very dear friend of mine was visiting and so, to thank her for schlepping all the way over to Germany to see yours truly, I left the choice down to her. And what was her country of choice? Well, none other than little old Uruguay!

Chimichurriiiiiii

Uruguay, where even are you? I mean, yes, we all know somewhere in South America, but where? There, in the middle somewhere? Oh. Oh no, not even close. To the left? No, not there either. Oh dear. Right down at the bottom of Brazil?! Who knew?!?! You kept that secret, you sneaky little country. And little it is, at least in comparison to its mammoth neighbour to the North (Brazil, obvs) and its sizeable pal to the West (Argentina). In fact, geographically-speaking (and we all know how GREAT my geoggers is by now) it’s the second smallest country in South America after Suriname, a former colony of my interim home here, the Netherlands. Although I apparently have zero idea where it actually is, I have to say, I harbour a secret admiration for Uruguay, primarily for its superlative national attitude towards renewable energy (almost 95% of the country’s energy is from renewables, dontcha know). But having just Googled the country, my obeisance for it has at least quadrupled in the last 10 seconds. Why? Well, here are just a few reasons for you to chew on: on a per-capita basis, it contributes more than any other country in the WORLD to UN peace-keeping missions. I KNOW!! It also ranks first in Latin America in terms of democracy, peace and lack of corruption. Are you packing your bags, too? Finally (at least for this bloglet), Uruguay is regarded as one of the most liberal and progressive nations on the planet, leading The Economist to crown it country of the year in 2013. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m already looking at apartments in Montevideo.

Before the fill-fest

When it came to investigating the tasty treats that this absolute beaut of a country serves up, I admit I had my preconceptions. Given its proximity to Argentina, land of meat, I was pretty sure this week would be a choice of steak, steak, or maybe even steak. Generally not something I would go for, as I’m not a massive carnivore, but for the sake of this project, I was willing to struggle through and get hold of a couple of big juicy slabs of meat. Hard life, eh? However, once I’d delved deep into the black hole of the internet, it transpired that Uruguayan cuisine is surprisingly diverse and indeed European, basically welcoming any and every other national cuisine with open arms. Goddamit, Uruguay, must you excel in EVERY area of life? It’s particularly heavy on Mediterranean flavours, with more than a few nods to Spanish, Portuguese, French and Italian cuisine. This, for the most part, is down to immigration. Once again, it was the Spaniards (yeh, those guys again – seriously, was the rest of Europe just picking their nose for centuries or something?) who paved the way for Europeans who wanted to try out life halfway round the world, swiftly followed by a sizeable wave of Italian immigrants. As is the case in Argentina, Spanish and Italian immigrants formed the backbone of society in Uruguay, and their influence can still be felt in the architecture, language and traditions of both countries. You need only go as far as Montevideo (say with an Italian accent whilst gesticulating wildly to get the full effect) to get a clue as to how much of an influence the Italians had there.

My outstanding assistant, sans head

As a result of this melting-pot situation, I was faced with quite the dilemma when trying to figure out what to cook. Given the above-mentioned influx of Marios, Giuseppes and Marias, it’s hardly surprising that pizza is kind of a big deal in Uruguay. Of particular intrigue was fainá, which is a thin, round chickpea flour pizza-crêpe type job found all over the shop in Uruguayan pizza joints. However, my idea was swiftly poo-pooed by my guest, who understandably fancied something a little more interesting than a chickpea crêpe. The dessert section of the great menu of Uruguay was also brimming with possibility: not only are they fans of everyone’s favourite artery clogger, dulce de leche (sweet, sticky caramel-type sauce), but they also enjoy a good churro. If that ain’t enough to get you reaching for your phone, just in case you have a heart attack, Uruguayans also indulge in a wide range of so-called bizcochos, which is more or less what we know as Danish pastries. May I reiterate: Uruguay is the dream land.

Yes yes YES empanadas

However, my dear guest and I had already almost eaten ourselves into a sugar coma by the time it came to cook, and so we opted for a savoury dish: empanadas. I’m sure most people have heard of empanadas before – they’re a popular snackette all the way across Central and South America, as well as in the Southern states of the US, and indeed in Spain, the originators of the little blighters. But what exactly is it? Well, basically, it is the Spanish equivalent of a Cornish pasty: a semi-circular pie filled, in general, with some kind of meat, and fried. And all of that in a practical hand-sized portion, ready for you to inelegantly stuff into your chops without the inconvenience of using cutlery. The Uruguayan version does not differ hugely from its neighbours, although the use of a generous handful of fresh herbs seemed to be bucking the trend slightly. The version we produced also called for a bowl of chimichurri sauce on the side, made of a buttload of parsley and oregano, chilli and garlic. As baking goes, empanadas are definitely not hard to make at all. It was actually strangely therapeutic filling them and making them look all nice with forked edges. The end result was a hit, if I do say so myself, with the herbalicious chimchurri giving the whole shebang a nice whack ‘o fresh. I feel like I’ve said this a lot throughout this blog, but people, this time I mean it: Uruguay is IT. Montevideo, watch out, I’m coming for you!