Instructions: I get all kinds of responses when I tell people where my family is from. My favorite was uttered at a party by a young woman swathed in a gauzy, tie-dyed dress who was eating an alarming amount of hummus:

"Oh, the Azores! You know, theyre the remains of the lost city of Atlantis. I lived there in a past life."

Most people know surprisingly little about my familys homeland, and even less about our food. And for good reason: Strewn some 1,000 miles off the coast of Portugal, the Azores - Terceira, Sao Miguel, Faial, Sao Jorge and five other islands - are happily marooned in the middle of the Atlantic.

Unfortunately, so too is our distinctive cuisine (unless you live in Californias Central Valley - a rich, century-old repository of immigrants from the Azores and the motherland, Portugal).

Geographic isolation is only one conspirator in our foods invisibility. Like most peasant cuisines, Azorean cooking is home-based; economics prevent most families from frequenting restaurants. Mine was so poor that "acordas"

brothy soups filled with swollen chunks of crusty homemade bread - were sometimes all there was to fill bellies.

Consequently, owning a cafe or "pastelaria" (pastry shop) held little promise. So when Azoreans arrived in the United States during the great waves of immigration in the early part of the 20 th century, few opened eating establishments. In turn, our food remained largely undiscovered by Americans.

Those mothers and grandmothers who wanted to formally share their recipes were thwarted by illiteracy, because in the old country most of them werent required to attend school. Without any permanent records, many family favorites disappeared from the table when the cooks passed away.

Despite such obstacles, Azorean food has managed to thrive - and even resist being overtaken by the Mediterranean-infused cuisine of mainland Portugal.

"Our food is more authentic Portuguese because we have fewer Spanish influences," says Ana Taveira, a well-known cook on the island of Sao Miguel. "We dont use much cilantro, curry or cinnamon.

Were more heavy-handed with other spices, especially the hot ones." She adds proudly, "Ours is a simple, hearty food." For tiny islands, the archipelagos foods are remarkably regionalized, differing by island, town and even neighborhood.

According to Deolinda Avila, Palo Alto author of the self-published book,

"Foods of the Azores Islands," Sao Miguel and some towns on Pico lead the way in the use of hot peppers.

Manuel Azevedo, a Sao Jorge native who owns LaSalette Restaurant in Sonoma, says, "Polvo (octopus) wasnt as popular in my family or on my island as it was in other places. We liked lamprey and limpets more."

To further compound our rich gastronomic diversity, some islands embrace spices such as cumin, allspice and cloves while others dismiss them entirely.

Nowhere is Azorean individuality seen more than in "sopa de couve," the islands version of Portugals unofficial national dish, "caldo verde"

(green broth).

"Sopa de Couves is made differently in the Azores than on the mainland," explains Avila. "On Faial we use more potatoes and dont mash them (to make a thickened base). We also dont cut the greens into thin strips. Its a more country dish the way we make it."

Variations include the addition of red beans, ham hocks or beef shanks and a sizable portion of "chourico" (spicy smoked sausage), not the miserly single slice of the mainland version.

David Leite runs Leites Culinaria Web site: www.leitesculinaria.com.

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