Maduro con queso

      

One of the most abundant and staple foods in the tropics of Ecuador is the plantain, a starchy fruit related to the banana, but distinct. Plantains are larger than bananas and are never consumed raw. They are cooked in a plethora of ways -- boiled, fried, baked, roasted, and even barbecued -- and in different regions of Latin America, the same plantain dish can have different names. For example, a savory preparation of plantain called patacones in Ecuador is called tostones in Puerto Rico.

Plantains are harvested when mature and are eaten in two main stages of ripening: green and yellow. Green plantains are called verdes in Ecuador. More ripe, yellow plantains are called maduros, meaning mature. Regardless of their ripening stage, plantains are harder to peel than bananas, usually requiring a knife to open. 

Verdes are not sweet at all; they are starchy, and often play the role of understudy to the potato in Ecuadorian dishes. They can be boiled, mashed, and seasoned in bolón (a common breakfast dish); they are fried, pressed and re-fried in patacones (my favorite). They are sliced thinly into chifles (plantain chips), and they are even boiled and mixed with water to form the thickened broth base of sancocho, a traditional soup.

Maduros are sweet -- sometimes too sweet. They, too, can be prepared in a wide variety of manners but are more likely to be the star of the show than verdes. They can be boiled and served alone or as part of soup, dipped in flour and deep fried into emborajados (maybe Paul's favorite), and often in restaurants pan fried and served as a side with rice and protein.  

Dillon quite enjoys breakfast bolón. I, too, love savory verdes -- particularly as chifles and patacones -- but my two younger kids definitely tend to be more excited about maduros.  My guess is because of their sweetness. 

One of the simplest plantain dishes Ecuadorians love is maduros con queso: sweet ripe maduros thinly sliced and pan-fried and then paired with chunks of salted queso fresco (fresh cheese). It is a sweet and salty treat that I came to enjoy decades ago but that my kids were not initially quick to appreciate. Gracias a Dios -- as they say here  with regularity --  now everyone loves them.

In early December, we landed in an unfamiliar bus station at the end of a looooong travel day. Everyone was hungry, and Paul and I were worried about how we were going to get food in our bellies and get to our hotel in a timely manner. Brynna, who had just started reading, looked up at a sign in the food court of the bus station. She read slowly at first, sounding out each syllable in Spanish, "MA-DU-RO. . . CON. . . QUE-SO. Madu-RO. . con QUEso. Maduro con queso." Her reading pace quickened, "Maduro con queso. Maduro con queso. Maduro con queso. Yo quiero maduro con queso!"

In that singular moment, I realized that Brynna was speaking Spanish, reading Spanish, and craving Ecuadorian comfort food. And you better believe that I leaped up from the cafeteria table and bought her a giant plate of maduro con queso. The generous plate came piled high and hot as heck, but we all dove in with delight, and in the end, we all felt better enough to finish the last bit of our long day with smiles.

maduros cooking on our stove top

yummy maduros con queso (carefully arranged by Jonah)

                      

a delicious bolón with cheese at the beach