Boston Cream Pie

WHAT? State-sanctioned sweet. There are two enduring mysteries about this traditional custard-filled, chocolate-glazed sponge cake: 1) Why is it called a pie? 2) Don't legislators in Massachusetts have enough to do? Let's start with the latter question. In 1996, Boston Cream Pie beat out Indian pudding and the Toll House cookie (created by a Massachusetts restaurant of that name in the 1930s) for the official designation "dessert or dessert emblem of commonwealth." (Chapter 2, Section 41). The chocolate chip (or Toll House) cookie was designated state cookie the following year. (Whew.) Incidentally, the Bay State has a State Muffin, too—the corn muffin. As for our first question, after a good bit of investigation, columnist Tom Harte of the Southeast Missourian wrote that "the best guess is that they were so labeled because they were baked in pie tins, which were more common in 19th-century America than cake pans."(The modern version of Boston Cream Pie is attributed to Boston's Parker House Hotel, which also gets credit for the Parker House roll.)


WHEN? October 7, Michael and Wendy Jordan, Rosemary's Restaurant, Rosemary's at the Rio

Feijoada [fay-ZHWAH-duh]
WHAT? ? Brazilian bean supper. Today feijoada may be the national dish of Brazil, but it was originally a creation of African slaves. Forced to live on discards, they cleverly combined salted pork ears, tails, and feet with beans for a protein-packed, stick-to-your-ribs meal. Nowadays, the meat in feijoada is often upscaled—you're likelier to find linguiça or other sausages and salted beef. The beans vary from region to region; the recipe varies from cook to cook, but invariably includes onions and garlic. The finished dish is served for a weekend lunch, usually in a cast-iron, banana leaf-lined pan, always with a side of collard greens with orange sections, rice, and farofa (manioc flour) fried in butter; it's washed down with beer or caipirinhas. It is said feijoada is eaten at lunch in order to allow time for digestion. One recipe we found included post-lunch instructions: "Take a long nap in a nice hammock."


WHEN? October 3, E. Michael Reidt, Wish at The Hotel

Yacon [yah-KON]

WHAT? Looted root. A crunchy, edible root tuber from the Andes that is a distant relative of the sunflower, yacon has been traced as far back as pre-Incan times, but these days it's at the center of a very modern dispute. Japan stands accused of pirating the plant and placing monopoly patents on its use. That's no small potatoes—lest you've forgotten, another Incan root vegetable—because yacon is believed to have considerable potential commercial value. The yacon can be "as sweet as candy" according to Lost Crops of the Incas (National Academy Press), but—here's the important thing—its sugar is not metabolized by humans, "meaning that weight-watchers could scarf down a lot more pastries without popping any buttons," according to www.etc.group.org. "In theory, yacon could supplant crops like sugarcane and high-fructose maize as a non-fattening sweetener from cakes to cola." Further, because the sugar in yacon does not bring about a glycemic reaction, it's also an ideal sweetener for diabetics. The yacon germplasm supposedly was smuggled out of Peru by the Japanese ambassador, who just happens to be the brother-in-law of the scandal-ridden former Peruvian president Albert Fujimori. "The yacon case is a real loss for Peru and the other Andean countries and peoples who have nurtured yacon for centuries," writes www.etc.group.org. Yacon (polymnia sonchifolia) is said to taste like a cross between an apple and a watermelon. The vegetable is pickled, eaten raw in salads, baked, or boiled. Peruvians grate it and squeeze it through cloth to make a refreshing drink.


WHEN? October 14, Pedro Miguel Schiaffino, La Huaca Pucllana, Miraflores, Lima, Peru