So why am I feeling like the cat at the cream pot, a Tampa Bay fan, the foxiest female at her umpteenth high school reunion?
Check the crammed (and sticky) condiment rack on the inside of the fridge door. Run your eyes past the sriracha, the capers, the
See that jar gleaming like a pot of gold, complete with nuggets? That’s why I’m one smug sister.
It’s a magical Mexican elixir called Mojo de Ajo, and I owe Rick Bayless big time. I heard him waxing poetico about it on his PBS program “Mexico One Plate at a Time.” It didn’t look difficult to make, it wasn’t expensive, and Rick assured me that it would change my life in a good way. He was right.
Chef Bayless admitted that peeling the cloves of four heads of garlic could be a tiny drag, but so worth it. Inexplicably, karma smiled on me this week. I follow Saveur Magazine on Facebook and when it posted a video called “How to Peel a Head of Garlic in Ten Seconds”, I knew that a batch of Mojo de Ajo was going to happen within five minutes, not five hours.
Here it is, peeps, the best cooking trick I’ve learned in years. You’ll need two medium-sized mixing bowls approximately the same size—lighter weight metal bowls work well. If you have small hands a meat pounder or a rubber mallet could be handy.
Step One: Position the head of garlic flat side down, then smash it into its separate cloves with the heel of your hand. (Or pounder or rubber mallet.) Smash is the operative word here: you want to apply enough pressure to loosen the skin slightly.
Step Two: Place the cloves in one bowl, cover with the other, rim to rim, and shake it like the dickens. Full disclosure: it took me 15 seconds.
Here’s the recipe, courtesy of RickBayless.com
SLOW ROASTED GARLIC MOJO
Mojo de Ajo
Makes about three cups mojo de ajo (made with two cups of oil)
Recipe from Season 7
Ingredients
Four large heads garlic
OR 10 ounces (about 1 3/4 cups) peeled garlic cloves
Two or three cups fruity olive oil
One teaspoon salt
1/2 cup fresh lime juice
Preparation
Heat the oven to 325 degrees.
Break the heads of garlic apart, then mash each clove (a fist against the side of a knife is what I do) to release the clove from its papery skin; if using already-peeled garlic, scoop the cloves into a heavy plastic bag and use a rolling pin to mash them slightly.
Stir together the garlic, oil and salt in an 8x8-inch baking pan (make sure all the garlic is submerged), slide it into the oven and bake until the garlic is soft and lightly brown, about 45 to 55 minutes.
Add the lime juice and return to the oven for 20 minutes for the garlic to absorb the lime and turn golden brown. (If you’re using the larger quantity of oil, ladle off one cup—no garlic cloves—and store it in a cool dry place for use in salad dressing or sautéing.)
Using an old-fashioned potato masher or large fork, mash the garlic into a coarse puree.
Pour the mixture into a wide-mouth storage container and refrigerate it until you’re ready to enjoy some deliciousness. The mojo will last for up to three months as long as the garlic stays submerged under the oil.
I’m still thinking of new uses for my mojo. We’ve sautéed shrimp in it, tossed it with some spaghetti and dried red pepper and sat down to dinner 10 minutes later.
If you check out the recipes at Rick Bayless’s site, and I hope you do, he seems to love it with all kinds of fish and seafood. But ooh! Think about how a couple of tablespoons could transmogrify mashed potatoes, or ratchet up some ratatouille? I’m going to sub it for half the oil in my next vinaigrette. One day, when I’ve been a very good girl, I’m going to make transcendent garlic bread—I moan just thinking about it.
Non-culinary bonus: this stuff is deeply, gloriously garlicky. With your Mojo de Ajo in the house, you’ll never be bothered by vampires again.
