Medianoche

If you're lucky this holiday season, you'll have lots of delicious leftovers. If you're creative, you can throw together a medianoche or Cuban Sandwich. And it's appropriate for New Year's Eve, because medianoche means "midnight", and a salty savory sandwich like this would go very well with a young bubbly wine full of crisp acidity.

Take a soft, long loaf of bread and slice it open lengthwise. If it's really tall, you might want to slice an inch out of the center. On the bottom slice of the loaf, lay down some mustard. The traditional option is just yellow mustard, but I prefer Dijon, and I also add a bit of mayo, which I know is anathema to some purists. Whatever your spread, layer on sliced Kosher dill pickles. Again, opinions vary: delis and restaurants tend to skimp here, but I say double up on the pickles. So much of the flavor comes from pork that you need something tart and acidic to balance it out. Then layer the sliced pork loin (or shredded pork shoulder, or whatever roasted pig you have on hand), the ham, the Swiss cheese, and finally the top half of the loaf.

Many guides will tell you to butter the inside of the bread, and I will admit that this is tasty. But I prefer to spread the butter on the outside, as it aids in crisping. With a manageable 12" loaf, I'll do it in a skillet and press it down with a casserole dish, but with anything longer you'll want to do this in the oven, on a cookie sheet, with another sheet on top of the sandwich and a set of weights on top of that to press it all together (clean bricks are ideal). Flip it occasionally to make sure both the top and bottom get equal heating.

Personally I prefer the shorter sandwich in the skillet or on the griddle; like I said, take anything solid and sanitary and press down as hard as you can on top of the sandwich while it's grilling. Not only will it smash the flavors together but the bread will become this buttery, crusty, compressed wonder. (If you're using a fancy panini press, just heat up the meats beforehand, otherwise you'll have a hot exterior and a cold interior.)

Traditionally this would be served with French fries or perhaps rice and black beans. Both are delicious, but in the interest of balance and digestion, I'd heavily recommend a salad with a light vinaigrette or some fresh fruit. As wholly delicious as this sandwich is, keep in mind that it's a concentrated mass of meat, salt, fat, and starch. The pickles and mustard are key to balancing it out, but they're not quite enough. Make a salad, grab some celery sticks, or even go with cole slaw. It's all about harmony, folks.

The El Presidente Cocktail

In the wake of the big Festivus Cubano and its voluminous leftovers, I decided to make a round of the Cuban cocktail that goes by the name El Presidente. Hemingway was a fan of many Caribbean cocktails and perhaps one of these passed his lips at some point.

Follow the above link for a recipe, but in the handful of times I've made it, El Presidente has been pretty forgiving of the ratios. Feel free to use a splash here, a splash there, add something nuevo, it's all bueno. The important part is to focus on the citrus flavors. In the pictured variation I used lime juice instead of lemon juice and fresh pomegranate juice as opposed to grenadine: I feel this is fresher and better tasting than the straight recipe. And that's a wedge of clementine floating in the glass, not just a strip of peel. A dash of grapefruit bitters finished things off nicely.

I'll say it again: the importance of citrus cannot be ignored when it comes to proper cocktails. And I'm referring both to the use of fresh squeezed juices (never canned or bottled!) as well as the right liqueurs for the right occasion. My home bar includes Gran Gala (a delicious and affordable substitute for Gran Marinier), Orange Curaçao (made from the peels of the laraha citrus), and of course the elegant Cointreau, which is currently being promoted by the lovely Dita Von Teese.

Festivus Cubano

I'm a big fan of Festivus, a fake winter holiday created as part of a Seinfeld episode. I skip the aluminum pole and the airing of grievances, and I don't even celebrate it on December 23. For me, Festivus is a great nickname for any dinner party during November or December that's not tied to Thanksgiving, Christmas, or New Year's. If you invite an acquaintance to a Christmas party, there's an expectation of presents and maybe dressing up and conflicts with other family obligations and whatnot. But a Festivus dinner can include damned near anything, dress can be as casual as desired, and no relatives are going to disown you because you decided to hang out with friends on December 15 or November 30.

This year, dear friends Sally and Terry offered to buy the groceries if I'd do the cooking, and I decided that it was high time to do some Cuban cooking. Memphis has had a couple of Cuban restaurants over the years, but currently there are none. Yes, a few places offer pale imitations of the Cuban sandwich, but if I want lechon asado or vaca frita I've got to do it myself.

Clad in a Hawaiian shirt while listening to mp3s of the Canadian radio host Stuart McLean, I spent a few hours prepping a proper Festivus Cubano. Big thanks to the Taste of Cuba website, source of most of the recipes.

We started things out with an apple/pumpkin soup called sopa de calabaza y manzana, spiced up with the addition of a few tangy cubanelle peppers. At this point the guests were finishing off cocktails, including the Silver Fizz and Manhattan. With the soup served in coffee mugs, it was just enough to whet the appetite and provide a little base for the feast to come.

For the second course, I adapted this recipe and used tilapia. Some amazing canned San Marzano tomatoes really brought an intense flavor to this dish. Since I'll jump at any opportunity to use a sparkling wine with food, I elected to open a bottle of NV Codorníu Original Cava. $15, 11.5% abv, La Mancha region of Spain. For Sally I added a splash of pastis, and for Paul I added a splash of Cointreau; Cava adapts readily to Champagne cocktail recipes. I had mine plain, where it presented a lemon and toast nose with a crisp, clean flavor, balanced acidity, and a short finish. This is a good all-purpose sparkler from a family that's been in the wine business for 500 years.

After a palate-cleansing course of chayote salad (most of the diners had never had a chayote before), it was time for the main course: rabo encendido or oxtail stew. Regular readers will note that I've been on an offal kick for the past few months, and oxtails are a relatively non-scary way to get used to these immensely flavorful parts of the cow/pig/etc. They're also pretty cheap, but rising popularity will surely drive up the price. Accompanying the dish were rice and slow cooked black beans with country ham. All told this was a decadent, rich, savory course that belied the total absence of expensive ingredients.

In keeping with the theme of wines from Spanish-speaking countries, I poured the 2006 Crios Malbec from female winemaker Susana Balbo. $15, 14% abv, Mendoza region of Argentina. Tobacco and coffee nose with blackberry and cinnamon flavors. Bright and smooth with a neat finish.

All in all a successful dinner, and I satisfied my craving for Cuban food. The guests were stuffed, laughter filled the house, and a good time was had by all. Truly a Festivus miracle.