Snow. Cold. More snow. More cold. We’re paying our dues for living in the North. Wouldn’t it be great to escape for a few days to a nice warm place in the sun? Northerners heading for a respite in Florida peel off Interstate 95 at Daytona, Palm Beach, Fort Lauderdale or on down the coast. Anyone booking rooms in Miami gets the bonus of being dropped into the epicenter of an interesting and tres-chic regional cuisine. Florida cuisine, sometimes called “Floribbean,” is an easy, breezy, big-flavored cooking style that expands our imaginations, not our waistlines.
Florida cuisine reflects a tropical stew of cultures, tastes and ingredients, according to Steven Raichlen, a cooking teacher, food writer, syndicated columnist and one of Florida’s most vigorous cheerleaders. It was bound to happen, he says, because of a unique confluence of events.
• Political upheaval in Latin American countries and the Caribbean caused a rapid influx of immigrants to Florida, mostly to Miami. Fidel Castro sent Cubans packing, and with the fall of the Somoza regime, Nicaraguans fled to Miami. Miami’s Haitian and Colombian communities are the largest in the nation. As a result, nearly 50 percent of Dade County today is Hispanic.
• Florida is home to a cornucopia of resources. The Atlantic Ocean and Gulf of Mexico are fisherman’s paradises and supply as many as 500 varieties of finfish, along with stone crabs, spiny lobsters and Gulf shrimp. There’s a year-round growing season in the semitropical climate. Most famous are the citrus groves. Is there anything more refreshing than an Indian River ruby red grapefruit?
• Fickle fashion played its role, too. Not so long ago, Miami Beach was a retirement city. Now the 800 or so streamlined, pastel-colored buildings in the South Beach Art Deco District have been transformed and given historical designation. Enter European jet-setters, Rollerbladers, fashion photographers and sun-starved Yankees. SoBe, as South Beach is called, is a multilingual nonstop carnival.
Way back when, while a nation of couch potatoes was watching “Miami Vice” on TV and pondering the time lapse between Don Johnson’s five-o’clock-shadow shaves, a gang of young Florida chefs was honing a new style of cooking. Nobody taught them. Working in classical styles in their day jobs, they’d hang out in ethnic neighborhoods on their own time. They experimented in their kitchens. They played with strange and exotic produce.
The Florida chefs are Mark Militello of Mark’s Place, Allen Susser of Chef Allen’s, Robbin Haas of the Colony Bistro, Doug Rodriguez, Sonia Zaldivar and roving author-chef Norman Van Aken.
As a result, Florida may be the proving ground for the way health-conscious Americans will eat this century. The vibrant food with big flavors and healthful choices emphasizes fish and shellfish, fresh fruits and vegetables, salsas instead of sauces, spice rubs and marinades for grilling instead of frying. After all, if you’re spending time on the beach, you want your body to be trim and taut.
But wait a minute. There’s a different, critical accent to this multilingual cuisine. Tons of restaurants serve Miami’s working-class Latino population. We’re talking beans and rice, garlicky plantain fritters and massive roast-pork platters garnished with strips of salty, crisp pork fat.
Miami is also famous for delicious, piled-high, wild-combination sandwiches. The Cuban area, Calle Ocho, is famous for empanadas, tamales and arepas, a popular Colombian snack that’s a cross between polenta, pancakes and a grilled cheese. For a major beef fix, folks order churrasco at Los Ranchos restaurant, which was founded by members of Nicaragua’s former ruling family, the Somozas. Frosty, fresh fruit shakes called “batidos” quench thirst in the tropical heat. Tiny cups of sweet Cuban coffee put a jolt on the day, and rum and lime daiquiris smooth it out.
Next time you’re smothered in mufflers or shoveling the sidewalk, think about the sun, the beaches and the fabulous food in Florida. Aren’t you due for a couple of vacation days?
Key lime pie for today
This recipe is from “Miami Spice: The New Florida Cuisine,” by Steven Raichlen (Workman).
1¼ cups cinnamon graham cracker crumbs
⅓ cup unsalted butter, melted
3 egg yolks
1 14-ounce can sweetened condensed milk
5 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
5 tablespoons fresh lime juice
2 teaspoons plus ½ teaspoon grated lime zest, divided
1 cup whipping cream
3 tablespoons confectioners’ sugar
½ teaspoon vanilla
Combine graham cracker crumbs and butter in a mixing bowl, and mix to form a crumbly dough. Press mixture into an 8-inch pie pan. Bake crust in 350-degree oven f5 minutes. Remove crust from oven, but leave oven on.
Combine egg yolks and sweetened condensed milk in a mixing bowl, and beat with a mixer at high speed until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. Gradually beat in lemon and lime juices and 2 teaspoons grated lime zest. Pour mixture into crust. Bake pie for 6 to 8 minutes or until filling is set and a skewer inserted in the middle comes out clean and hot to the touch. Remove pie from oven. Cool to room temperature, or refrigerate until serving time.
To make topping, place whipping cream in a chilled bowl, and beat it until soft peaks form. Add confectioners’ sugar, vanilla and remaining ½ teaspoon grated lime zest, and beat until the cream is stiff. Spread or pipe the whipped cream over the pie and refrigerate, uncovered, until serving.
Tangerine tuna
This recipe also is from “Miami Spice.”
4 tuna steaks (about 1½ pounds total) cut ¼- to ½-inch thick
¼ cup soy sauce
¼ cup fresh tangerine juice
4 ½-inch strips tangerine zest
3 tablespoons honey
3 tablespoons sesame oil, divided
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 scallions, trimmed and white part minced, green part finely chopped and reserved for garnish, divided
1 tablespoon minced ginger root
3 1½-inch strips lemon zest
2 tablespoons toasted sesame seeds
Preheat a barbecue grill to very hot. Rinse the fish steaks and pat dry.
In a shallow mixing bowl, whisk together soy sauce, tangerine juice and zest, honey, 2 tablespoons sesame oil, minced garlic, white part of scallion, ginger root and lemon zest. Place tuna steaks in a baking dish, and pour marinade over top.
Marinate tuna, covered, in the refrigerator for 30 to 60 minutes, turning once or twice. Drain steaks, and blot them dry. Brush with remaining 1 tablespoon sesame oil. Grill tuna for 1 minute per side or until cooked to taste. Sprinkle steaks with the chopped scallion greens and sesame seeds, and serve immediately. Makes 4 servings.
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