Romi Viola's Canelones

My name is Romi Viola but I go by Romi Kid. I’m from Argentina. I’m a social communicator with a passion for traveling, cooking, and creating random playlists that I listen to while riding my bike. I’m from a city called Villa Carlos Paz, located in the heart of Cordoba by a big lake. Cordoba is also located in the heart of Argentina. How can I describe my province? Well, you can’t say Cordoba without singing. It’s a place of laughter, dancing, cooking by the fire, sharing with family and friends, surrounded by mountains, winding rivers, and the purest air. 

Mercado de la Tierra is a very special place to me. It's only a few blocks from my house and it's guarded closely by the green mountains.

The team here grows all types of greens, flowers, peppers, and aromatics. You find things here you’ve never even heard before, and that’s something that I absolutely adore. 

For my recipe I harvested the greenest spinach. Oh, and I also got a few black and golden radishes to snack on.

Today I’ll be cooking canelones de verdura, or green cannelloni. This recipe is imprinted in my head from watching my dad make it over and over again, mostly on rainy Sundays. There are no written sheets or cookbooks, my grandma taught this recipe to him before her passing, and he shared it with us. It’s an Italian dish but it has French and Spanish influences, and I love that, because a bit like Argentina, the combination of influences makes it so much richer. 

Like I mentioned before, I don’t follow a recipe. It will sound cheesy, but I follow the instructions by memory. After seeing my dad cook it so many times, it’s easier to just close my eyes, and relive the process. My chihuahua, la Cobra, is my sous chef. She will eat anything that falls on the floor, keeping it sparkling clean. I need to be careful. 

I start by making the pancakes. I mix eggs, flour, and milk with a little bit of salt and pepper. I then cook each pancake with a little bit of butter in a nonstick pan. They are thicker than a crepe, but thinner than a pancake. 

Then, I make the filling. I clean the spinach, at least two bags, I chop it and I steam it in batches with a sprinkle of salt. 

Because my dad hates condiments and alliums (how am I his daughter?) we add the filling of a sausage without the casing to add some flavor and some minced pork meat. Once it's cooked through, we also add some heavy cream and a mountain of Pecorino cheese. 

Finally I make the bechamel sauce. At home, we simply call it salsa blanca, or white sauce. I don't follow a technique although I'm sure there’s one in the books. I simply melt a stick of butter, I make a paste with some flour until well integrated, and then I add milk slowly, making sure the mixture is homogeneous before adding anymore. I finish it off with a healthy dose of cheese, salt, pepper, and nutmeg if I’m in the mood.  

To wrap it up, I fill the pancakes with the spinach sausage mixture. I place them all together in a buttered tray. And I cover the whole thing with a lot of the magic white sauce. 

A third and final heaping portion of cheese is added and into the oven it goes, until bubbly and golden.