Empanadas. Since my arrival in Buenos Aires seven weeks ago, I have become completely addicted to these amazing nuggets of goodness. Every time I feel the slightest pang of hunger, (sometimes imaginary, since my host madre feeds me so well), I use it as an excuse to run into the nearest tienda or restaurant for an empanada break.

Argentinian food is predominantly a mishmash of Spanish and Italian cuisines, with a whole lot more beef. One of the few authentic Argentine savory snacks that comes carne optional, empanadas have become one of my almost daily indulgences in my hold-out vegetarian status. Every restaurant in Buenos Aires, from the most basic hole in the wall right up to the fanciest*, serves empanadas—the only difference being the price. $3-4 pesos on the street can become $6-8 pesos in an extremely fancy place. Either way, that’s less than $2 in the United States. These days, empanada price is basically my primary indicator of whether I can afford a restaurant.

(*The only place I didn’t see them on the menu was a tiny Middle Eastern restaurant. But they compensated with a slightly terrifying belly dancer whose aggressive gyrating against our table almost sent my falafel flying. So we’ll forgive them.)

By this point, if you aren’t lucky enough to have tried one before, you’re probably wondering: what the eff is an empanada? At its most basic, an empanada is a pocket of dough filled with your traditional savory filling of choice and then either baked or deep-fried. But this description doesn’t even begin to do them justice. The name comes from the verb “empanar”, to wrap/coat in bread, so despite all its mystique, empanada simply means wrapped in dough.  The empanadas themselves originally came from Galicia, Spain, where they are more like plate-sized pies filled with fish. Based on medieval European cookbooks (yeah, those exist) food historians believe that both Iberian empanadas and the Italian calzones were a product of Moorish influence, and started out as European attempts at the Arab samosa. They only evolved to their current sweet, sweet, incarnation in Latin America where they are common throughout the continent and the Caribbean.

Katya Botwinik ’13 insists that I can’t possibly write about empanadas without having tasted the beef version. Point taken. Those are technically the most common and she can attest to their tastiness. I can only advocate on the behalf of the other guys–by no means the underdogs, available almost everywhere meat ones are found. These are filled with queso y cebolla (cheese and onion), or espinache (spinach), or humita (sweetcorn) or caprese or Roquefort. Try them. Or better yet, make them!

I have not yet been able to try my hand at making empanadas myself, since my host madre only lets me into the kitchen to stuff my face with dulce de leche (more on that particular habit next time). Therefore I leave the responsibility of testing this recipe up to you, dear reader. There are literally dozens of different empanada recipes, as everybody and their “tia” have their own version. For the sake of the Middletown Fire Department and everyone else trying to use the Butts kitchen, stick to the falafel cart for your late night deep-fried fix. Empanadas al horno (baked) are more common in Buenos Aires anyways.

Preparation

1. In a bowl, beat the water, egg, egg white, and vinegar together. Set aside.
2. In another bowl, mix together the flour and salt.
3. Now, mix the butter into the flour mix using two butter knives. Make a little hole in the center of the flour mix and pour your liquid ingredients from the first bowl into the hole.
4. Now, using a fork, mix the wet and dry ingredients until stiff.
5. Sprinkle a little flour onto your work surface and knead your dough  until all the flour is incorporated and the dough is smooth. Don’t over-knead just because it’s fun and you feel professional–your dough will be tough and harder to seal.
6. Wrap the dough in cling wrap and plonk it in the fridge for 1 hour (minimum!) while you preheat the oven to 375 degrees F and prepare your fillings. If you run out of steam after this step and want to keep the dough longer than 24 hours before baking, you can freeze it.

Ingredients
3 cups flour (plus a little more for kneading)
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 cup cold water
1 egg
1 egg white
1 tsp. vinegar
3 tbs. butter

Filling and Baking

Here are a few of the most common vegetarian fillings:
-Queso y cebolla (mozzarella cheese and onion)
-Humita (mozzarella plus “choclo”, canned sweet corn)
-Caprese (mozzarella cheese, tomato, couple fresh basil leaves and a sprinkling of dried oregano)
-Roquefort cheese
-Verdura (almost always just steamed spinach–make sure the filling isn’t too wet or it will be soggy and gross. You can also add some cheese if you want, feta might be nice).
-Calabaza (pumpkin) is one of my personal favorites, but takes a bit more effort as you have to peel, cook and mash it first. But with a little sugar, some black pepper, salt and oregano…mmm!
-Or, feel free to invent your own fillings and if Katya has you convinced, Google a recipe for a meat filling. If you read Spanish, I recommend http://www.empanadascriollas.com.ar/

7. Once your oven is nice and hot and you’ve got your filling mix ready, roll out the dough til it’s 1/4 inch and and cut the dough into circles. If you happen to have brought a 6-inch cookie cutter with you to college, that would work perfectly. Otherwise, improvise with the mouth of a Mason jar (I know you’ve all got one of those) and make them slightly smaller than is traditional.
8. Now place your filling in the middle of your dough circle,  leaving a clear dough margin around the edges and making sure not to over-stuff.  Moisten your finger in a little water and run it along the entire edge of the circle. Carefully fold over the dough circle with your filling in the middle so that it looks like a semi-circle, or half-moon if you’re feeling romantic. Press the edges together as you do this.
9. The traditional way to seal an empanada is with a braided seal called the “repulgue”.  Starting at one corner of your half moon and holding the two dough edges together with your thumb and forefinger, fold a small triangle from the edge inwards and press down to seal it, extending that bit of dough a little and making another triangle right next to the first. Press it down to seal and repeat until you have crimped all along the edge. It should look like it’s braided. Try YouTubing it if you don’t understand what I mean.
10. When you have filled and sealed all your empanadas, stick them on a baking sheet about an inch apart. Brush them all over with an egg wash (egg yolk and a bit of water) and bake until golden brown. Eat them right away while they’re hot or later at room temperature…if there are any left.
Ps. If your empanadas are overstuffed, not properly sealed, or just plain don’t like you, a couple from every batch will leak or explode in the oven. These ones will still taste good, promise.