Attempting sopa de lima
A few weeks back, Folkie reminded me that I had not yet fulfilled my vow to recreate sopa de lima after returning from my trip to Mexico. I didn't want to let Folkie down, so I quickly made my way over to the Supermercado Morelia on Clark Street in Chicago to get the ingredients. I love hanging out in the produce sections of Latino markets. Huge bunches of cilantro were 33 cents apiece, and a Styrofoam tray piled high with cubed papaya, mango and pineapple, dusted with chili powder and served with a wedge of lime and a plastic fork, was just $1.99.
But I would not be distracted from my real purpose: sopa de lima. I’m still a bit unclear on exactly what constitutes a “lima” versus a “limon”, so if anyone wants to set me straight, feel free. Limons look like key limes; limas (or limas dulces) look like tiny lemons, and are sweet enough to be eaten alone. Neither of them resembles the limes and lemons with which I am familiar.
I was starving when I visited the Supermercado Morelia, which I don't recommend. It caused me to ravenously prowl the aisles salivating over things that I wouldn’t normally find particularly appealing (chicharrones, for example). I picked up ingredients to make chorizo tacos, chipotle black beans and my first attempt at the soup, based on a consolidation of three separate recipes I found on various websites (you can find my version here). A random aside: despite the fact that it probably contains hearts, lips, intestines and an assortment of other offal, I must insist that chorizo is one of the foods of the gods.
Sopa de lima is a popular dish in the Yucatan. It’s basically chicken soup with a citrusy broth that’s full of tomatoes, onions and green peppers, usually garnished with avocado slices and tortilla strips. Also, it’s freaking delicious. Did I mention that yet? It’s just divine.
I picked up a mango and carrot juice with this inspired name:
I thought it was Mexican, but in fact it is Polish. Either way, buy it for the label alone.
On a whim, I also got a packet of Royal flan mix (made by Kraft Mexico) in the scary gelatinous products section. I love flan, and I wanted to see whether I could make palatable version out of a box without English instructions. It is a testament to Kraft that I completely screwed it up by adding only half the required amount of milk and it still came out fine. (Isn’t that so depressing? It wasn’t because I didn’t understand the Spanish. It’s because I am dumb.) My dad said it tasted “plasticky” and lacked eggy flavor, but I figure as long as it was remotely edible I had done my job. I mean, it was Kraft. Because we don’t own ramekins, I had to pour the mix into a eclectic variety of small containers, including the collection of tiny salad bowls that my parents have retained from various airplane meals (back when they actually served food on airplanes).
Come to think of it, the flan looks plasticky, too.
The soup was delicious; it tasted light and sunny from the limas dulces. The tacos were dandy, stuffed as they were with toothsome chorizo. Just stay away from that flan.
But I would not be distracted from my real purpose: sopa de lima. I’m still a bit unclear on exactly what constitutes a “lima” versus a “limon”, so if anyone wants to set me straight, feel free. Limons look like key limes; limas (or limas dulces) look like tiny lemons, and are sweet enough to be eaten alone. Neither of them resembles the limes and lemons with which I am familiar.
I was starving when I visited the Supermercado Morelia, which I don't recommend. It caused me to ravenously prowl the aisles salivating over things that I wouldn’t normally find particularly appealing (chicharrones, for example). I picked up ingredients to make chorizo tacos, chipotle black beans and my first attempt at the soup, based on a consolidation of three separate recipes I found on various websites (you can find my version here). A random aside: despite the fact that it probably contains hearts, lips, intestines and an assortment of other offal, I must insist that chorizo is one of the foods of the gods.
Sopa de lima is a popular dish in the Yucatan. It’s basically chicken soup with a citrusy broth that’s full of tomatoes, onions and green peppers, usually garnished with avocado slices and tortilla strips. Also, it’s freaking delicious. Did I mention that yet? It’s just divine.
I picked up a mango and carrot juice with this inspired name:
I thought it was Mexican, but in fact it is Polish. Either way, buy it for the label alone.
On a whim, I also got a packet of Royal flan mix (made by Kraft Mexico) in the scary gelatinous products section. I love flan, and I wanted to see whether I could make palatable version out of a box without English instructions. It is a testament to Kraft that I completely screwed it up by adding only half the required amount of milk and it still came out fine. (Isn’t that so depressing? It wasn’t because I didn’t understand the Spanish. It’s because I am dumb.) My dad said it tasted “plasticky” and lacked eggy flavor, but I figure as long as it was remotely edible I had done my job. I mean, it was Kraft. Because we don’t own ramekins, I had to pour the mix into a eclectic variety of small containers, including the collection of tiny salad bowls that my parents have retained from various airplane meals (back when they actually served food on airplanes).
Come to think of it, the flan looks plasticky, too.
The soup was delicious; it tasted light and sunny from the limas dulces. The tacos were dandy, stuffed as they were with toothsome chorizo. Just stay away from that flan.
posted by cindym at 11:07 AM
5 Comments:
ohmygod, i must try that soup. i have a thing about citrusy broth soups, especially lately. yum yum. And I am going to try and find that supermercado myself... those chili-dusted fruits sound really good.
Thank You! And thanks for the info on what to do if you live in NH where no people other than white people want to live and you can't find limas dulces. I agree with foodnerd, I got totally caught up and distracted by the fruit dusted with chili powder. So soup for dinner it will be, and chili dusted fruit for after. Hurrah!
Delicious Dessert) and Chorizo Leche Flan (
In Jaro, Iloilo City, Philippines we call this flan “leche plan’ from the word “leche” means milk and it is so delicious to eat after lunch or dinner. In Philippines, there is a custom here where one town/ city will celebrate its birthday with their patron saint and every house prepare food and invited their friends, family and relatives for one day of feast and different foods served as a thanksgiving to their patron saint like in our place Candelaria de Jaro from the word candles in which the Virgin Mary held lighted candles, and it is a tradition here that every February 2 every house prepare food for guest and for dessert usually there is leche flan and buko-fruit salad(coconut and fruit cocktail salad).
We have also chorizo here and we usually ate in breakfast with egg and the best one is sold by a store in Aldeguer St. in Iloilo City.It was from your site I realize that Spanish influence in food can also be seen not only in Mexican food but also in Ilonggo food and in Philippine food. I think God created a universal taste, how come you tasted the leche plan and chorizo, so……delicious, the same as I taste it.
Huh, I thought limon was lemon and lima was lime. I'm actually making this soup right now and I used regular limes and it tastes fine. =]
This is another translation problem which cannot be solved by a dictionary because the words for lemons, limes, and limas tend to be regional in Mexico. You can be sure of one thing: limas are about as similar to limes as lightening bugs are to lightening. They are not particularly sweet nor are they notably sour. If anything, they are bland, and how they can be transformed into a wonderful dish is little short of miraculous.
I, too, am searching for an authentic sopa de lima recipe so I can approximate what I've tasted in Yucatán. It's almost as difficult as finding really good horchata!
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