When you believe that each person who crosses your path has a lesson for you, it's hard to regret their role in the play that is your life, whatever it be. Generally speaking, I think the bigger the part and the longer the scenes before the exit, the greater the lesson (or the more pigheaded we are about learning it)...
They say men tend to marry their mothers and women their fathers. And though I would have liked to believe this wasn't my truth, after 11 years of what some would call an *unbalanced* marriage, a nasty divorce in the aftermath of what I call a *LONG AND EPIC PERSONAL BREAKDOWN*, and a few more years of oft painful reflection, I have to admit that it was very much my truth. Staring me in the face for 13 years through the eyes of a hard-working, well-meaning, self-sacrificing but very passive aggressive and hugely enabling little Ecuadorean woman, were some of the biggest lessons I needed to learn before I could step forward into a mutually loving, caring, nurturing and respectful partnership - one that I would proudly model for both my son and daughter.
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| Picadillo empanadas. As with almost everything deep fried, they are insanely tasty. :) |
In moments of judgment, I saw her as a self-made victim of Latino machismo who quietly went along with her Cuban husband's chest pounding only to turn around and curse it in whispers under her breath. I would wonder in frustration why she didn't just tell the man to his face that he was full of mierda when he made whales of some of the minnows he fished out of life. (To be clear, I have a lingering love and affection for both of these complex people who loved me like the daughter they never had.)
But in moments of empathy, I understood exactly why she didn't. She didn't because she, like I, came from a culture, nature and history that made us want to protect a man's ego, and our perception of that man (no matter how deluded), at all cost. Obviously at cost to the woman suffering a man who needs big praise for little deeds, but also not so obviously at the cost of true growth for the man too easily and eagerly resting on that praise. And so in my own marriage, save the contemptuous whispers, I often found myself doing the very thing for which I criticized my mother-in-law: preserving my husband's ego at the cost of my own sanity, well-being, and sense of truth.
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| No delusion here - just tender, flaky, delicious pastry... |
I don't fault her the whispers. I think that if I'd stayed married, I would also have found a quiet way to process my feelings. I've never been much for screaming matches nor for Western psychology's notion that we can pay a disinterested (and likely uninterested) third party to somehow stoke the flames of lasting inner growth that we lack the desire to make on our own.
But with due respect for the life the ex MIL continues to live her way, I like to think that I exited stage left from her son's life because I was fortunate and able to learn a lesson that perhaps her circumstances did not allow: that a painful severance grounded in reality is ultimately better for the soul than a lasting union based on delusion.
We don't talk very much any more, our relationship a casualty of the tension between me and the son she is compelled to continue enabling. But the last time we had a heart to heart, I told her why I'm not going back. She teared up momentarily for the loss of so many things I'm sure, but then nodded and said "I understand." And in that moment, it was as though we had both fulfilled our biggest purposes in each other's lives - both as mirrors of our selves and as windows offering a glimpse of what lay, or could lay, ahead, for the choice to see, and act on, things as they are and not as we hope or pretend them to be.
If I have rejected some part of her in walking away from a life with her son, I still remember fondly, albeit sometimes sadly, the many moments of real warmth and affection shared between us, mostly in the kitchen, that are not likely to ever happen again. But in addition to her blessing to move on to a better life, she gave me a rich legacy of delicious foods I never knew existed until I married her son.
Empanadas are my favorite of all of her dishes because they're such crowd pleasers. Savory picadillo with bits of salty, briny olive and a sweet surprise of the occasional raisin - all wrapped in a delicious, deep fried pastry. Too hot fresh out of the oil, so you chat and wait and chat a little more until they're ready to bite into...
She likes to use the frozen Goya wrappers, or discos, as they're called in Spanish. But one of those inspired, DIY, elbow-grease-y moments sent me on a search for a perfect empanada pastry recipe, and I found a near-perfect one on epicurious. Just a couple of modifications produced a lightly sweet and oh so tender yet flakey pastry that works well with both sweet and savory fillings.
It's not a difficult recipe, but you do have to commit yourself to the time and effort it takes to make, chill, and roll the discos. A lazy weekend afternoon with a nice, chilled glass of pinot grigio and some Gipsy Kings is probably not a bad way to go about it.
EMPANADA WRAPPERS (DISCOS PARA EMPANADAS)
Adapted from this GOURMET 2004 recipe. My additions in italics.
Makes 12 to 15 wrappers.
- 2+1/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
- 1+1/2 teaspoons salt
- 1 stick (1/2 cup) cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
- 1 large egg
- 1/3 cup ice water
- 1 tablespoon distilled white vinegar
- 1 Tablespoon Sugar
- 1 Tablespoon cold (solid) chicken fat (or 1 extra Tablespoon butter - I always have chicken fat left over from making stock, but the chicken fat does give it a different flakiness. Worth the modification if you've got it, but not a huge biggie if you don't.)
1) Sift flour with salt into a large bowl and blend in butter with your fingertips or a pastry blender until mixture resembles coarse meal with some (roughly pea-size) butter lumps. If you don't have a sifter, just grab handfuls of flour and sift them through your fingers from 6 inches above the bowl. Do this about 10 times, and your dry ingredients will be incorporated and aerated.
2) Beat together egg, water, and vinegar in a small bowl with a fork. Add to flour mixture, stirring with fork until just incorporated. (Mixture will look shaggy.)
3) Turn out mixture onto a lightly floured surface and gather together, then knead gently with heel of your hand once or twice, just enough to bring dough together. Form dough into a flat rectangle and chill, wrapped in plastic wrap, at least 1 hour. If you're in a hurry, 30 minutes in the back of the freezer will do.
If it's a warm day, I like to keep the dough I'm not currently working in the fridge. The butter can melt quickly and make the dough challenging to work with.
4) Cut dough into equal sized cubes (about 1+1/2 inches) and roll into balls. Leave 3 or 4 out to roll, and put rest in fridge.
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| A baker's dozen here, but I can actually squeeze 15 to 18 (and get a less doughy center) out of this recipe if I roll real hard... |
5) Roll into 4"-5" discs, depending on how big you want to make your empanadas.
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| Roller is in storage. This worked swell. |
Par for the course, I take measurements for one thing, and forget them for another. Will try to get some filling recipes up shortly.
shinae
06.10.11 - Picadillo recipe posted here.
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