Dora, Chini, & Capuchinos

Some of my most treasured memories are about people who weren't blood related, but might as well have been. Dora and Andres "Chini" Cruz were such people. My grandmother and Dora had known each other as acquaintances in Cuba, but found themselves in the same circle of Latin American friends after settling in Spartanburg, South Carolina.

Chini was born in Remedios, Santa Clara, Cuba, on July 12, 1925. He had worked in Cuba rolling cigars, and cut shirt collars at S&S Manufacturing in Spartanburg. Dora was born on January 6, 1921, in Jovellanos, Cuba, the oldest of three Correa sisters. She, along with my grandmother, also worked at S&S as a sewer. In Cuba Dora had been employed at a clothing store.

This couple was a fixture for me during my childhood until they moved to Miami in 1987. Because they had never had children, I was like a grandchild to them. I can still imagine the days as a kid when Papi, my grandfather, and I would drive to pick up Abue and Dora from work. I can see those two, sweaters and purses slung over their shoulders, ambling down the walk toward the car. Dora, smelling of stale smoke, a cherry Lifesaver candy clicking around in her mouth, would climb into the backseat beside me. She was a tiny lady, barely five feet tall, with reddish-brown tinged beehive hair, perfectly painted brown eyebrows, huge glasses, polyester suits, and a rough but sweet smoker's voice.

My grandmother, Esther Jimenez, and Dora, sometime in the late '70's.
I well remember that green shiny chair, as well as those cone-shaped lights.

They had been our neighbors at Georgetown Village Apartments when I was very small. My American-born Dad tells the story of Dora serving him pig's feet stew, and how he broke into a sweat and she ended up insulted. Another time, used to asking babies "Tienes sueñito?" ("Are you sleepy?" but it's kind of like saying to a child, "Are oo sweepy?"), when my Dad saw Chini yawn, he posed him the baby question. There are many hilarious little tales like this involving them.

Chini was gentle, always with a cigar in hand, and a pocket protector in his shirt. His hands shook with Parkinson's, and he was my buddy. He spoke virtually no English, to the point that my Dad remembers it as "not even 'hello'." He had open heart surgery in 1987, before moving to Miami. He died in 1996, and Dora passed away maybe five years ago, maybe more...I lose track.

I was in the first grade when this photo with Dora and Chini was
taken at my grandparents' house on Brookside Road, Spartanburg.

A child takes for granted the older generation that provides joyful times. We have no idea at the time that memories are being made, and that these people who are part of who we are will one day be no more. Oh, how I miss Dora and Chini! It is hard for me to grasp that they left Spartanburg when I was only eleven, as they had such an impact on my daily life. Once they were in Miami, I only saw them on yearly trips down there. They lived in a different place, Chini was sick and weak; it just wasn't the same.

As I've written before, the longing I have for folks such as these can be heartbreaking at times. I thank God for the love they poured into me, and for the funny, beautiful things I recall about them. Dora and Chini are worth remembering. I have albums full of them and the fun we had, and every now and then will take time to savor the photos and let my mind wander back.

When I was little, Chini made all the desserts for my birthday parties. He loved baking, and was known to advise others to always put in a pinch of salt, regardless of whether or not the recipe called for it. I do this and think of him. My aunt, Margarita Jimenez of Ft. Lauderdale, reminded me of a fantastic way in which I can remember and honor Chini: by recreating the delicious "capuchinos" from the same recipe that he used to make.

These are delicacies: "dulces finos," my aunt calls them, because they are fine, elegant sweets usually sold in bakeries, not often prepared and eaten at home. Chini made them every time I had a party, and I grew up savoring their lucious sweetness. As an adult, I had all but forgotten about capuchinos, then one day decided I had to revive this dainty from my childhood.

The following recipe comes from my aunt, but creates capuchinos just like the ones that Chini would produce for my birthdays:

For the syrup: 2 cups sugar, 1 cup water, 1 tsp. vanilla extract, a few drops of lemon

For the cakes: 5 egg yolks, one egg white, 1 tsp. sugar, 2 tsp. cornstarch

You will need a muffin pan for miniature muffins, and many mini muffin cups.

Don't forget a pinch of salt!

Boil all the syrup ingredients, and set the pot aside. It will look like this:

To get the cake part ready, mix the egg parts on regular speed, then add the sugar and little by little the cornstarch. At first, your mixture will look like this:

This will look like a very small amount at this point. Once the ingredients (and the tiniest pinch of salt!) are mixed, turn the mixer on high speed, and walk away. As my aunt says, do your laundry or clean, allowing the mixer to continue at high speed for about twenty minutes. During this time, go ahead and turn the oven to 350 and line your molds with mini baking cups. When it's ready, the mixture will look like this, almost like meringue:

Drop a small spoonful into each baking cup. Bake about eight minutes, until the capuchinos have risen. Turn the oven to broil, and allow the tops to brown. They will come out of the oven looking like this:

Once out of the oven, allow the capuchinos to cool only a minute or so, then remove them carefully from the wrappers. Do this slowly and deliberately to avoid sticking, and throw these used wrappers away. Place them in a 9x13 pan (or rectangular Tupperware container) and pour the syrup over them. I usually bake two batches, then pour the syrup over all of them at the same time. Refrigerate until ready to serve.

When you are ready to serve the capuchinos, they will have soaked up the syrup, and will be nice and gooey. Take out more wrappers (I use plain white for the baking, and save my pretty ones for plating). Place your attractive wrappers on a serving plate, and slowly take the dripping, syrupy capuchios and place them in the new wrappers. They will only stay there a moment, as these are eaten quickly, but they will look beautiful and wow your guests when you present them. More than that, the sight of them reminds me of how they looked at my birthday parties, made lovingly by Chini.