Pane Hispaniola

     I made Pane Bianco about year ago and loved the bread.  It was filled with basil and sun-dried tomatoes - such a flavorful bread.  But it seems I can never leave things alone.  I thought about the flavors that I love - I love Mexican food.  Roasted peppers, cilantro, cheese, and chorizo. So this variation was just had to be.  I used a cured Spanish chorizo, roasted poblano peppers, fresh cilantro, queso fresco, and a dusting of chili and garlic powders.  I love Mexican chorizo, but I was worried about it being a little too greasy with an overpowering flavor.  I think I made the right decision.  What a aromatic and wonderful combination.  This bead along with a nice tossed salad made a great dinner.

     I come by my love of these flavors honestly.  I love telling people that I am Hispanic.  I get that sure, whatever you say look.  I can understand these looks; I am pretty fair complected with medium brown hair and light brown eyes.  My hair color of choice has been light auburn, I am fair enough to pull it off and have it look natural.  You can see the Murphy and McConnell in me.  My mother's paternal side of her family was from Spain by way of Cuba.  My mother's maiden name was Santa Cruz. She and her six siblings all had black hair, dark brown eyes, and olive complexions.  My mother nor any of her siblings ever learned to speak Spanish.  My cousin, Lillian (named after our grandmother), learned to speak Spanish when she became a missionary as a young adult.  We taught together for many years, with Lil teaching Spanish.  The kids couldn't understand why I didn't speak Spanish since she did.  She would tell her students that she found me in a garbage can when I was an infant, and she took me to her aunt.  One student came to me telling me how wonderful Ms. Pil was.  I agreed she was wonderful, but asked "Why do you think she is so wonderful?"  The student was completely disheartened when I told her it was a story.  Lil always wanted to go to Spain, and she and I went for 2 weeks about 20 years ago.  We toured Spain and walked through the Santa Cruz quarters in Seville.  (Where we saw the Bourbon Street Bar.)  It was a wonderful trip with many cherished memories, but for Lil it was the trip of a lifetime.  Anyway, my mother and her siblings could never deny one another. They all looked so much alike; I used to say if you could have put them all in a bag, shake them up, and pull out one it would be like pulling them all out.  The picture below has eight children in it, the littlest one on the end was Anthony from next door who ran in.  I used to refer to it as the refugee picture.  It was during the depression, but they looked like they just got off the boat although they were all born in New Orleans.

The Santa Cruz clan from left to right - Malcolm (called Mattthew), Alguinaldo  (called Gonala), Antonio (called Tony), Soulita (called Soul), Dolores (my mother), Louiska, and Rosita (called Rosie)