Vinnie Hansen
is the author of the Carol Sabala Mystery Series, the stand-alone novel Lostart
Street, and numerous short stories. Still sane after 27 years of teaching
high-school English, Vinnie has retired and lives in Santa Cruz, California,
with her husband and the requisite cat. Learn more about her and her books at
her website.
For
those who want all the creature comforts of home, Cuba may not be the travel
destination for you. The long-standing embargo has created many shortages, including
a lack of basic staples like salt. The Cuban people compensate for the dearth
of supplies with great resourcefulness—nothing goes to waste. But the island is
better suited as a destination for those who like locations precisely because
they don’t have a Starbuck’s on every corner. People like my husband and me.
While
my husband and I enjoy cultures that are different than ours, we don’t
necessarily relish the arduous process of getting there. Cuba beckoned us—a
non-stop flight to Cancun and then a simple hour hop to Havana. Fairly simple
travel to be in one of only two places in the world without Coca-Cola.
We
ventured (illegally) to Cuba in 2010, where we traveled for a month, staying in
casas particulares, private homes that rent out rooms and
provide breakfast. The typical breakfast is white bread, possibly jam and
honey, coffee, eggs, juice, and fresh fruit. Because of the embargo, the fruit includes
choices from what grows in Cuba—guavas, pineapple, mangos, watermelon, and
small, firm bananas. There is a good chance what you eat will be organically
grown. But don’t expect variety!
While
the menu items may not vary, the quality can vary widely. We were served
everything from rotten bananas and instant coffee with powdered milk, to sweet
fresh fruit and strong, delicious Cuban coffee.
Danny
and I were on our own to scout out other meals. According to a billboard,
Cubans eat Cuban pork. As non-meat eaters, we never tried Cuba’s famous pulled
pork. A standard meal for us was fish with cristianos
and moros—white rice (imported from Vietnam) and black beans.
This
is a typical meal for the locals, as well, although Cubans don’t eat in the
same restaurants as tourists, unless, by some miracle they can afford it.
Cubans have their own eating establishments where tourists are not allowed, and
the food is a tenth of the price. We had a connection to a Cuban citizen who
snuck us into one of these out-of-sight diners. We rapped on a door behind the
tourist restaurant and were admitted to a galley-room with about four tables
and no windows. The food, though, was no doubt the same fare that was being
eaten in the restaurant in front.
Although
Americans have been restricted in their travel to Cuba, that doesn’t mean the
country lacks tourists. We met people from all over the world. The Cuban government
has started to allow privately owned and operated restaurants to serve these
visitors. Some of them are quite good. We even managed to eat pizza one night!
But
even in these spots, one has two choices for beer—light or dark. Steak is
practically unheard of. Even with chicken, expect only dark meat. White meat is
reserved for mucky-mucks, or so we were told.
The colorful culture of Cuba provides
the backdrop for Black Beans & Venom,
the seventh book in my Carol Sabala Mystery Series.
Because
Cuban people lack resources, Cuban black beans can be bland.
My friend Huve Rivas supplied the following recipe. He hails from Puerto Rico
and this is an adaptation of a recipe from his mother, Carmen Olmeda Rivas. The
people of Puerto Rico like their black beans a little soupier than the people
of Cuba. These are truly delicious!
Black Beans
Serves 8
2 tsp. olive oil
1 pound of black beans
8 oz. can tomato sauce
sofrito (sautéed onion, cilantro, clove of garlic, 1 bell
pepper, lots of cilantro in olive oil)
10-12 olives (pimiento stuffed)
1 T. capers
2 cubed medium-sized potatoes
Enough water to keep an inch or two above beans while cooking
salt to taste
1 tsp. ground cumin (optional)
Rinse beans and let them soak in a pot of water overnight to
soften. (Use whatever water is not absorbed for cooking.)
Lightly sauté sofrito.
In a large pot place beans, cover with water, and bring to a
boil. Lower flame to bring beans to simmer.
Add salt and sofrito (you can add extra raw cilantro). Let it
simmer 20-30 min., then add potatoes, olives, capers, and tomato sauce.
Cook for another 30-40 minutes or until beans are tender. Don’t
let the water level go below beans. Gently stir every once in a while. Some
people simmer beans uncovered while others cover with a lid.
Black Beans & Venom, Book 7 of the Carol Sabala Mysteries
No one wants P.I. Carol Sabala to take the
case. Her boss is apprehensive about an illegal investigation in Cuba. Carol’s
boyfriend worries about her physical safety. But the client is rolling in
dough, the office has unpaid bills, and Carol chafes under the mundane tasks
assigned to her.
In Old Havana, Carol sets off to track down
Megan, the client’s missing daughter, who is battling metastasizing cancer and
running from a sociopathic boyfriend. Struggling in the exotic world of the
island, Carol races to find Megan, before the disease or her ex-boyfriend kills
her.
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10 comments:
Thank you for hosting me, Lois!
Believe it or not, my husband and I ate these beans last night with fried fish. Tonight we'll use the leftovers in quesadillas.
Enjoy, Vinnie!
Yum, quesadillas with homemade black beans. Can I come to your house for dinner tonight, Vinnie?
I loved Black Beans and Venom. One of my all-time favorite books.
Thanks for dropping by, Kassandra. I think Black Beans & Venom is my best book. Hopefully, I will keep growing and improving as a writer.
Yum! And I've read this book, and it's wonderfully evocative of Cuba.
Thanks for dropping by, Kirsten, and for reading the book!
This recipe sounds as good as the book which is terrific.
I've gotta ask--how was the pizza? What interesting items were on it? Fascinating post! Thanks for sharing, Vinnie!
Gilian, the pizza came late in our visit. After eating the same things for weeks, the pizza tasted phenomenal. But, in truth, it was probably mediocre. I remember it as a simple cheese pizza.
Thanks, Nancy! Geez, all this praise for Black Beans & Venom is making me blush.
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