Fanesca

When Lent came to Quito, so did the rains. It was always wet, never dry. I walked around the Centro a lot then.  In the early mornings, the Centro was chilly, with clouds in the streets, smoky with the scent of toasted cinnamon. During Lent the Centro smelled like that, but also – strongly – of incense: incense and cinnamon.

During Holy Week the narrow and dark streets of the old colonial center took on a pose of tangible grief, the churches were stripped of decoration, and the crosses covered with flowers that looked like blood. It felt as though the whole of the place was hungover, drooping with some sort of unrecoverable guilt.

So it rained, and I walked through the streets, and I smelled the cinnamon and the incense.

On Holy Thursday, I followed Chelita to eat fanesca at her sister-in-law, Leonor’s, house. Fanesca is a pale brown stew eaten throughout Ecuador, often, over and over again, and constantly – but only during Lent. It’s virtually impossible to find any other time of the year. It means, literally, “mixed up”, and, along that vein, it symbolizes the harried grief of a helpless mother.

The story goes that the Virgin Mary was preparing supper when news came that the Romans had arrested Jesus.  In the shock and hurry to find her son, Mary threw all the grain and beans that she had on her lap into a great boiling pot before rushing out.   The modern version of the stew includes a dozen grains, dried cod, and milk.

We stepped into a house sharp with the smell of cooked habas, a super-bitter bite of stewed-bean smell that I’ve only ever found in Ecuador. Habas – fava beans – grow there to the size of thumbs, their dull green skin ending in inky black lips. Their meat tastes as pungent as any animal meat – Ecuadorian habas are like the organ meats of Earth.  The peanuts – ground to a paste – are my flavor saving grace. White fleshy chunks of cod, both salty and milky, float in the soup’s thick broth.

There were candles down the center of the dinner table, along with deep dishes of hard-boiled eggs, platanos fritos and empanadas de viento (the minute “air”-filled empanadas that we eat like popcorn).  There were cordial and wine glasses filled with amaretto, cognac, and wine.  The different colored liquors shimmered in the sunlight like stained glass.

Wide bowls of the beany soup appeared in front of us, and everyone began passing around the eggs, plantains, and empanadas. We ate and we drank and talked as the room darkened around us.

I’ll say this – the soup made me drunk. The soup and the wine came together in my belly and into my blood.

After the fanesca, we leaned back in our chairs like floating sea cows, our lips red, satiated, our bellies bursting.   We didn’t see Leonor until almost the end of the meal. By the time she appeared, we were bleary-eyed, transformed. 

Fanesca never felt like abstinence to me – it never felt like lenten punishment. It felt more like a dizzying smack in the face by the Earth gods, a kind of divine roofie.

We walked back out into the gray streets. Our bellies were big. Chelita and I burst out of our pants, stumbling into the driving rain like a lost tribe of pregnant Marys.

Fanesca (An approximation: not recently kitchen tested!)

Ingredients:

1 pound of bacalao de Noruega (salt cod)

2 tbs of lard (or bacon drippings)

2 medium onions, finally chopped

1 clove garlic, minced

1 teaspoon of oregano

1/2 teaspoon of cumin

1 bay leaf

salt and pepper

1 cup of hominy

4 cups of zucchini

4 cups of cubed pumpkin

1 cup of fava beans, cooked and shelled.

1 cup of green peas

1 cup of young pinto beans cooked

1 cup of chochos

1/2 cup of ground peanuts

4 cups of milk

1 cup of light cream

1 cup queso fresco

3 hardboiled eggs, sliced

3 plantains (maduros) and oil to fry.

Soak the dry cod fish in water, changing water every hour for three hours.

Soak fish in milk, drain and save the milk.

Soak the fish in water for another 3 hours 

Boil the fish in fresh water until tender. 

Remove from the boil (save the water)

Remove the skin and bones from the fish and cut the flesh into bite pieces.

Heat 2 tablespoons of lard in a saucepan.  Sauté the onion and the garlic until the onions are soft. Add the pepper and the rest of the ingredients (except the fava beans, plantains and eggs). Add one cup of the fish cooking water bring to a boil.  Cook until the zucchini and the pumpkin dissolve.  Add water as needed.

Lower the heat and simmer until the the soup has a creamy consistency.

In a blender, blend 2 cups of the saved milk with the peanuts until smooth.  Add to the pot and continue to simmer. Add the fava beans, and more milk if needed. Add cream to taste. The soup should be creamy and smooth before adding the cream. If you like a heavy fish taste in the soup, add half of the fish to the soup at this point and simmer for a couple more minutes. Adjust the seasoning.

Garnish the soup with parsley and egg slices, serve with the fish and fried plantains on the side