Antebellum Fried Oysters

Oysters have a peculiar place in our historical foodways. Once plentiful across the Chesapeake Bay, as well as both seaboards and the Gulf of Mexico, their abundance enabled the bivalve to become a food item that was available to everyone. And, for some, especially the enslaved Africans who worked on plantations up and down the Chesapeake Bay during Antebellum times, the oyster was an important staple of their meager diet.

Most slave owners provided little more than a monthly or periodic allotment of cornmeal, salt, and poor-quality meat. For example, George Washington provided his slaves who worked at Mount Vernon with "1 quart of cornmeal and 5-8 ounces of salted fish (usually shad or herring)."  It was just enough, in the eyes of owners like Washington, to sustain the slaves. "[A]s much as they can eat without waste and nothing more," in the words of the General and former President. From the slaves' perspective, it was not enough to survive. This led slaves to search for food that would supplement their diets, ending with whatever they could find or catch. 

Oysters were an important part of this supplement. As Frederick Douglass once wrote, the enslaved at the Wye House (which was a plantation on Maryland's eastern shore), the enslaved African-Americans gathered oysters to "make up the deficiency of their scanty allowance of food." The collection of oysters from local waterways is a practice that can be traced across the Atlantic Ocean. A reknowned historian and chef, Michael Twitty, saw the parallels between Virginia and Senegal. While walking through the Kermel Market in Dakar, Senegal's capital, Twitty noticed the "blue-hued crabs, the fish that resembled shad or rockfish, and the shallow troughs filled with oysters," which "transport[ed his] mind to the Chesapeake and its tributaries." It was common practice in Senegambia (the combination of present day Senegal and The Gambia) for families to collect crabs and oysters, along with other crustaceans and shellfish, from the brackish waters along the Gambia river. 

When Africans were forcibly brought to the new world as slaves, they brought this collective knowledge about oystering with them. Slaves could have gone out at low tides and collected oysters from reefs close to the shore. Slaves worked on oyster vessels, plying the waters of the bay and tonging for oysters. As an aside, slaves who worked on these vessels were some of the first to be emancipated, long before President Lincoln gave his address at Gettysburg, through the issuance of Seaman Protection Certificates (as early as 1797) that defined the holder of such a certificate as a U.S. citizen. Indeed, Frederick Douglass escaped from slavery posing as a seaman, borrowing a certificate from another African-American. 

Back at their quarters on the planation, enslaved African-Americans often ate oysters right out of the shell. Cooks would also prepare oysters using what little they had on hand, such as that cornmeal and whatever cooking oil or lard they could find. This recipe seeks to recreate a very basic preparation of fried oysters that could have been prepared by slaves in their cabins for their families. No fancy mignonettes, no special preparations. Just oysters, cornmeal and cooking oil. 

I prepared this recipe, as well as this post, because I deeply believe that we need to learn and understand all of our history, both the good and the bad, especially the bad. If we do not fully understand and come to grips with what our country has done, then we can never truly improve our country or even come close to the ideals upon which it was founded. Moreover, the current administration is trying to wipe away all of the progress that we have made over the past fifty years. The President is using his administration and the government to coercively substitute our history with others' propaganda, whitewashing what our country did to millions of its citizens by diverting their attention toward a false beacon of hope. We should be acknowledging the transgressions of our past, learning from those mistakes as we build a better future for every person in this country. That is what fuels me during each and every day in my actual job. It now fuels me each and every moment of my free time when I work on my blog, as embodied in my personal version of Federal Project Number One.  

ANTEBELLUM FRIED OYSTERS

Recipe adapted from multiple sources

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 pint of shucked oysters or about 24 oysters shucked, liquor reserved
• 1 cup of corn meal, more if needed
• Sea salt
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 cup cooking oil, butter or animal lard

Directions:

1.  Prepare the oysters. Pour the cornmeal in a bowl. If you are using a pint of oysters drain the oysters through a finsh mesh sieve or cheesecloth and reserve the liquor in a bowl. Return the oysters to the bowl with the liquor. Take an oyster and roll it in the cornmeal until covered, set aside. Repeat with the remaining oysters.

2. Fry the oysters. Heat the oil, butter or lard in a pan over medium high heat. Add a few oysters at a time, making sure not to overcrowd the oysters. Cook the oysters for 2-3 minutes until they begin to brown and then turn. Brown the other side for 1-2 minutes. Remove and set aside on a plate lined with a paper towel. Repeat with the remaining oysters. Once all oysters have been cooked, serve immediately.

*     *     * 

P.S.: As to the ingredient itself, I wanted to ensure that I used oysters from the Chesapeake Bay, not from somewhere else (such as along the shores of the Gulf of Mexico). While vacationing in the eastern shore of Virginia, I purchased a pint of pre-shucked oysters from the Great Machipongo Clam Shack, which is an amazing restaurant located on Route 13 in the eastern shore of Virginia. The oysters came from H.M. Terry Company, an established oyster farmer that has been operating in Willis Wharf, Virginia since 1903. The oysters were Sewansecotts, which are a briny bivalve cultivated by H.M. Terry in the waters near Hog Island, Virginia.  

PEACE.

Poulet Basquaise

"The extent to which you can walk in someone else's shoes or at least eat their food, it's a plus for everyone." 

-- Anthony Bourdain

Although I have always been fascinated by other countries and other cultures, in many respects, Anthony Bourdain has been the one to introduce me to someone else's food. Whether it was No Reservations or Parts Unknown, I would watch intently as Bourdain traveled around the world and communed with people at a table eating food. It is one of the most basic ways to achieve a mutual understanding. 

One of the many places that Anthony visited was Basque country, a region that straddles both Spain and France. It was a place that returned to again and again. The reason, as he described it, was "my love for the Basque, for Basque culture, for my Basque friends, is absolute." If a region, its people and its culture can strike a feeling like that in Anthony Bourdain, then an exploration is a must. 

I have previously prepared dishes from Basque country, but mostly focusing on that part that lies within Spain. I wanted to cross the border into France, to learn more about the Basque who live in that country. Anthony Bourdain's recipe for Poulet Basquaise provided that opportunity. 

The dish, Poulet Basquaise, is said to have originated from the Soule province of southwestern France, which is deep in the Basque country. The original recipe called for creating a sauce from bread and vegetables; however, it evolved over time to require the use of a piperade, which is base of tomato, onion and bell pepper. The dish also features the espellete, a pepper grown in the region (but which can be hard to find elsewhere). While the use of espellete is a must in Basque cooking, adequate substitutes include paprika or, if you would like a little more heat, Aleppo pepper. The Basque are also known for their wines, which can sometimes be hard to find as well. If you cannot find a Basque white wine, an adequate substitute is Picpoul de Pinet, a wine that comes from the neighboring French region of Languedoc. (I used that wine because it is more available and, as an added bonus, reasonably priced.)

When one prepares a dish like this, it transports them to a kitchen of a house in a small village in Soule. A dish that brings together local produce, a chicken from a nearby farm or market, some wine in the house, and herbs from the garden to produce a dish that would be the centerpiece of the family dinner. Basque cuisine features heavily local ingredients, influenced by French cuisine more than Spanish cuisine. It evolved over time, as evidenced by the tomatoes and peppers in the piperade. But, just as French cuisine has influenced Basque cuisine, the reverse is also true, as this particular dish is not just popular in Basque country, but in other areas of France as well. 

The exploration will continue, both in Basque country and elsewhere. Stay tuned....

POULET BASQUAISE

Recipe from Food & Wine

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 whole chicken, cut into 8 pieces
• Salt
• Pepper
• Pinch of cayenne pepper or piment d'Espelette
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 tablespoon butter
• 2 red bell peppers, thinly sliced
• 2 green bell peppers, thinly slice
• 1 onion, thinly sliced
• 1 can (16 ounces) Italian plum tomatoes
• 1/2 cup white wine
• 1 cup water
• 1/2 cub chicken bouillon or 1/2 cup light chicken broth or stock
• 3 sprigs of flat parsley, finely chopped
• Rice pilaf, for serving

Directions:

1. Prepare the chicken. Season the chicken all over with salt, pepper and the cayenne pepper. Heat the oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium high heat, about 2 minutes. When the oil is hot, add the butter. When the butter has melted and the foam has subsided, add the chickens, skin side down and brown on that side only, about 5 minutes. Remove the chicken and set aside on the plate. 

2. Saute the vegetables. Add the peppers and onion to the pot and reduce the heat to medium low. Cook for about 10 minutes, then add the tomatoes and cook until the liquid is reduced by half. Stir in the wine, scraping to get up the good stuff. Cook until the wine is reduced by half, then add the water and bouillon cube or broth. Return the chicken to the pot, making sure to add all the juices on the plate. Cover the pot and simmer on low heat for about 25 minutes. 

3. Finish the dish. Transfer the chicken to a platter. Crank up the heat to high and boil the sauce until it has thickened and reduced, about 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper and add the parsley. Pour the sauce over the chicken and serve with rice pilaf. 

PEACE.

Chile Verde Guacamole

If one looks at a guacamole recipe, they will most likely see an ingredient list that includes avocados, as well as perhaps tomatoes, onions, and cilantro. Almost all of those recipes have lime juice as an ingredient. But, as it turns out and I soon learned, that not all guacamole is prepared with lime juice. 

That happens to be the case in the Mexican State of Sonora. Chefs and cooks prepare their guacamole with out the added juice. Instead, they use other ingredients to provide additional layers of flavor, such as roasted anaheim chiles, to to enhance the "heat" of the dish, such as serrano chiles. 

A preparation of guacamole without lime juice may seem out of the ordinary (at least it did to me). However, I like to think that the Sonorans may be holding onto something that reflects a more traditional method. Something that goes back centuries. 

Allow me to explain.  The domestication of avocados in Mexico can be dated back at least 5,000 B.C.E. The dish that we know as "guacamole" is not as old, with its history going back to 14th to 16th centuries. At this time, the Aztec empire controlled much of central Mexico. History has accounts of Aztecs preparing a spread consisting of mashed avocados, along with added tomatoes, onions and chiles. That spread pretty much sums up guacamole. The name of that spread, ahuacatl  (avocado) and molli (sauce), gives us the term "guacamole." The Aztecs did not use lime juice, even though they did use that ingredient in other dishes. So, in a sense, the Sonoran way of preparing guacamole tracks the traditional and historical method of the Aztecs, at least with regard to the absence of lime juice. 

One final note: this particular Sonoran guacamole recipe adds two types of chiles - a roasted Anaheim chile and a serrano chile. The latter chile obviously provides heat to the dish and, if a serrano is too much heat for you, then you can substitute a jalapeno pepper. But, don't use a green pepper, you need to have some kick in the guacamole. The former chile chile provides some smoky and even sweet elements.  If you cannot find Anaheim chiles, you can substitute a poblano pepper. 

CHILE VERDE GUACAMOLE

Recipe from NYT Cooking

Yields 3 cups

Ingredients:

• 1 fresh Anaheim chile
• 1 serrano chile, finely chopped
• 3 tablespoons finely chopped white onion
• 2 tavblespoons coarsely chopped cilantro leaves and tender stems
• 1 teaspoon kosher or sea salt, plus more to taste
• 3 ripe avacados, haved and pitted, diced and mashed

Directions: 

1. Prepare the Anaheim chile. Place the Anaheim chile on a small baking sheet covred with aluminum foil. Roast it under the broiler, flipping a couple of times, until the chile is wilted and its skin is completely charred and wrinkly. (Alternatively, you can char the chile direclty on a hot comal or a cast-rion pan set over medium heat, or a grill set to high.)

2. Continue to prepare the Anaheim chile. Place the charred Anaheim chile in a plastic bag and close it well. Let it steam and sweat for 5 to 10 minutes. 

3. Prepare the rest of the ingredients. As the Anaheim chile steams, add the serrano chile, onion, cilantro and salt in a bowl or molcajete, and mash until combined. add the avacado and continue to mix and mash until you have formed a chunky puree.

4. Finish the dish. Once the Anaheim chile is cool to handle, remove fromthe bag, slip off the charred skin adn make a slit down the side and remove the seeds and stem. You could rinse the chile under a thin stream of water to help remove the seeds or rinse it off by dipping it into a bowl of water. Finely chop the Anaheim chile. Add to the avocado mixture and stir to combine. Season to taste with salt. 

PEACE.

Edith Dyson's Crab Cakes

"The government killed my grandmother and grandfather when they took that land from them." 

-- Edith Dyson

Almost every recipe comes with a story. Sometimes that story involves the dish itself, or its ingredients. However, every once in a while the story may be part of a larger history lesson. That history will often fade, like the printing on a page, unless there are people who are able and willing to tell it. Recently, I came across the work of someone - Kara Mae Harris - who strives to tell not just the history of recipes in Maryland, but about the people who make them. I came across her blog, Old Line Plate, during a search for historic Maryland crab cake recipes. That is when I was introduced to crabcake recipe of Edith Dyson, which was originally printed in 300 Years of Black Cooking in St. Mary's County Maryland. The recipe was also reproduced by Harris on her blog, with the story, and history, of Edith Dyson and her family.  

John and Louise Dyson
(Source: Library of Congress)

The story actually begins with John Dyson, who was born into slavery in approximately 1860. (Maryland abolished slavery in 1864.) That fact comes from notes that accompany photos of Mr. Dyson taken in 1940. The notes read, "he was born into slavery over 80 years ago." By the time the photos were taken, Dyson was at least 80 years old and married to his wife, Louise Dyson. According to census records, the Dysons also had at least two children, although the records have inconsistencies. 

The photos were taken by John Vachon, a photographer who  worked for the Farm Security Administration ("FSA") from 1940 until 1942. The FSA was an agency born from the New Deal in 1937 (as a successor to the Resettlement Agency). The FSA had a mission to help poor farmers, sharecroppers, tenant farmers and migrant workers by providing loans for land, equipment and livestock. The FSA also provided training and health insurance.

From the documentary evidence, John Dyson had a home and property; and, he also participated in the FSA's loan program. It is unclear what loan he received and how he used it. However, this is where John Vachon and the FSA may shed some more light. The timeless legacy of the FSA is not its loans, but the photography project that Vachon was a part of. The FSA employed Vachon and others for their photography skills, seeking to document the lives of poor rural farmers and sharecroppers. 

Vachon took numerous other pictures of John and Louise Dyson. Many of those pictures appear to involve John Dyson surrounded by pear trees, picking their fruit. For example:

John Dyson picking pears (Source: Library of Congress)

By his 80s, Mr. Dyson was living with his wife in a house in what was known as Fordtown. Perhaps by that time, he may have been a farmer cultivating pears from trees around his house. 

Edith Dyson in the kitchen
(Source: Library of Congress)

However, according to his granddaughter, Edith Dyson, Mr. Dyson originally made his living from the water, not the land. As she recounted, "my grandfather worked the water. There were hotels and families that bought fish from him. These fish were caught on a hook and line; they they were not caught on rod and reels." Having worked the water in St. Mary's County, John Dyson would have been familiar with more than fish. He would have also known about blue crabs. And, while there is much less known about Louise Dyson, John Vachon does provide some visual history in the form of a picture of Louise in the kitchen of her home. 

I would like to think that, at some point, that either Mr. Dyson or Mrs. Dyson prepared crabs in some fashion in the kitchen. It would provide a narrative that could explain why  their grand-child, Edith Dyson, offered up a crab cake recipe nearly thirty years later for a cookbook about African American cooking in St. Mary's County.  This part of the story will most likely be left to conjecture. While Edith gave an oral history about her grandfather and his farm, which is noted in Kara Mae's research, I have been unable to located that audio.

But, I was able to determine what happened to Mr. Dyson's farm. The community of Fordtown, along with Pearson and Jonestown, were seized by the Federal government through eminent domain in 1942. As one homeowner, Webster Bell recounted, "It was in March, a cold, windy day. My wife heard this banging outside and she went to the door and looked out and here was this man, driving a great big 20-penny nail through this stack of papers that looked like a Sears Roebuck catalog." That stack of papers was an eviction notice. The residents -- including the Dysons -- who lived in these small African-American towns, in an area that was then called Cedar Point, were forcibly evicted from their homes. They received money for their land, but, for many (and most likely for Mr. Dyson), it was not a lot. They lost their land and their communities. What was Cedar Point would become known as Naval Air Station Patuxent River. And that all happened roughly two years after the pictures above were taken.

Not every story has a happy ending. Many stories about our country lack that happily-ever-after. We should never delude ourselves into thinking that our past was great. It alway makes me think about the Woody Guthrie quote, "I don't care how good the good old days were for you. They were not good enough for me." Or for those African Americans who lived in Fordtown, Jonestown or Pearson. This crab cake recipe offers a history lesson about entire communities that no longer exist. 

EDITH DYSON'S CRAB CAKES

Recipe (and much of the research) from Kara Mae Harris at Old Line Plate

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• Onion, finely chopped
• Green pepper, finely chopped
• Peanut oil
• Prepared mustard
• 1 egg
• 1/2 cup mayonnaise or an additional egg
• Cracker meal
• 1 pound of crab meat
• Breadcrumbs
• Worcestershire sauce
• Salt
• Cayenne Pepper
• Black pepper
• Seafood seasoning

Directions:

Use the above ingredietns according to your tastes and needs. Saute the oinion, green pepper, red pepper (cayenne), salt and seafood seasoning in oil. Do not brown. Beat the eggs and/or maynnaise. Add the sauteed ingredients, worchestershire, salt, pepper and mustard. Gently fold in breadcrumbs and crab meat to mix. Make into cakes or patties. Roll in cracker meal and fry in vegetable or peanut oil until browned.

*     *     *

A post-script to this post, provided by the research of Kara Mae Harris. Edith Dyson recounted a visit with her grandparents after they were forced to relocate to New Jersey. As she recounted, "my grandfather was sitting on the porch and I will never forget it: he was playing his accordion, he was playing 'Look Down that Lonesome Road.' and that is a very sad song. I said, 'Grandfather, don't play that song, don't play that song. You know, play something, say something, let's dance it off. But there was no pleasure in him, everything was gone. There was nothing you could bring up to him that wouldn't bring back St. Mary's County. And we never, we never wanted to remind him of St. Mary's County." 

John Dyson playing his accordion for Louise Dyson (Source: Library of Congress)

PEACE.

Javaher Polow (Persian Jeweled Rice)

Few dishes leave me in awe, and Javaher Polow or Persian Jeweled Rice is one of them. My awe manifests itself in a couple of different ways. On the one hand, I marvel at the visual impact of seeing the dish. Studded with fruits and nuts, it truly looks as if jewels are embedded throughout the dish. On the other hand, I am struck by the complexity of preparing the dish: to create this be-jeweled masterpiece requires time, skill and patience. Many times I feel like I lack all three, and, hence, the dish has been an aspiration of mine for quite some time. 

Yet, the dish has been around much longer than any aspiration. Javaher Polow, also known as Morasa Polow, dates back -- at least -- to the 16th or 17th century, when it graced the royal tables at Qazvin, the capital where the Safavid dynasty ruled an empire stretching from the Caucasus mountains to the Persian gulf, and from Hoveyzeh to Qandahar (which is in modern day Afghanistan). The Safavid empire was one of the longest lasting Persian empires, from 1501 C.E. to 1736 C.E.

Many consider the Safavid empire to be the period of time when Persian cuisine truly developed. It may also be due to the fact that much of the history of Persian cuisine traces back to the Safavids, with sources become more scarce prior to that time. Nevertheless, it is beyond dispute that the Safavid court gave rise to many dining traditions and many dishes that remain a fundamental part of Persian cuisine to this day. Maybe someday I will have the time to truly explore that history, which can be found in manuscripts from the chefs of the royal kitchens, like the Matatolhayat, which recounts the lived experience and recipes of Nurollah, the chef to Shah Abbas I. 

Back to Javaher Polow, this dish involves a process that, depending upon the recipe, can take a lot of time and skill. Fortunately, I found a simplified version of the recipe on Milk Street, which is the website for Christopher Kimball's Milk Street cooking school and magazine. This simplified recipe provided a way for me to try to tackle this recipe without having to master the layering of rice, avoiding the over-cooking or under-cooking of the rice, and to focus on the basics. The simplified recipe enabled me to produce a delicious rice dish that probably ranks in the top 5 of most beautiful dishes that I have ever prepared. 

Having prepared a "simplified" version of Javaher Polow, I have begun to build up the confidence to try recipes from Persian chefs. The goal is to produce an authentic version. While I have more of the skill, and while I work on my patience, I still need to find the time.

JAVAHR POLOW (PERSIAN JEWELED RICE)

Recipe adapted from Milk Street

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 teaspoon saffron threads
• 4 tablespoons salted butter
• 2 medium yellow onions, halved and thinly sliced
• Kosher salt
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 2 cups basmati rice, rinsed and drained
• 2 teaspoons ground cumin
• 1 3/4 teaspoons ground cardamom
• 2 medium carrots, peeled and shredded on the large holes of a box grater (about 1 cup)
• 1 cup dried cranberries
• 1 teaspoon finely grated orange zest
• 1/2 cup shelled pistachios, chopped, divided

Directions:

1. Prepare the saffron water. In a small microwave bowl, combine the saffron with 3 2/3 cups of water. Microwave on high until the water has taken on a yellow hue, about 1 minute. Set aside. 

2. Prepare the rice. In a 12-inch skillet over medium, metl the butter. Add the onions and 1 teaspoons salt, then cook, tstirring occasionally until softened and light golden brown, about 10 to 12 minutes. Stir int eh rice, cumin, cardamom 1/2 teaspoons salt and 1/2 teaspoon pepper. Cook, stirring frequently until the grains are light browned and no longer transluscenet, about 4 to 7 minutes. Stir in the saffron water, the carrots and cranberries. Bring to a boil over medium high, then cover, reduce to lw and cook until the rice has absorbed the liquid and the carrots aee tender, 25 to 30 minutes. 

3. Finish the dish. Fluff the rice with a fork, then stir int he orange zest and 1/4 cup of postachios. Taste and season with salt and pepper. transfer to a shallow bowl and sprinkle with the remaining 1/4 cup pistachios. 

PEACE.

Goat Sukha

Whenever I order food from a particular Indian restaurant, I always include an appetizer of goat sukka (or sukha). As an aside, this particular restaurant allows its customers to choose between an American level of spice and an Indian level of spice for their dishes. I like a restaurant that not only caters to the local Indian community in this way, but also offers those options to someone like myself, who is not Indian. Given my love for very spicy foods, I always order my dishes from this restaurant at the Indian spicy or Indian very spicy level. 

Being able to choose spice levels in accordance with the Indian palate is important to me, because I want to experience the foods of southern India as one would prepare them for people who live in that region. Chefs and cooks alike across southern Indian states like Karnataka, Kerala and Tamil Nadu have embraced chiles. In so doing, they create dishes that contrast with those from the north of India. 

A sukka (or sukha) is a dry curry dish that originates from the south of India. The word sukha is Hindi and means "dry." Unlike a typical curry, sukhas are not prepared with a yogurt, tomato, or coconut milk base. Instead, recipes typically call for a combination of chiles and spices that, when prepared, cling to the featuerd protein with a paste-like texture. And, as for that protein, it could be just about anything. The most common versions of sukhas feature mutton or lamb, but one can find many recipes for Mangalore Chicken Sukha or even Chana Sukha (for vegetarians).  

For this recipe, I attempted to recreate the goat sukka dish from one of my favorite restaurants. I had some extra goat meat from another recipe that I prepared (which will also be posted on this blog). I encountered some difficulty finding a goat sukha recipe, which I needed to ensure that I prepared the goat properly. I eventually decided to use a mutton sukha recipe, for which there are many, and incorporated the directions for preparing goat from that other recipe I mentioned above. 

In the end, this dish was good, but it was not the goat sukka that I would order from the restaurant. There are two reasons for this conclusion. First, I am not as good at cooking goat as the Indian cook or chef at that restaurant. (Despite my best efforts, the goat was a little overcooked.) Second, the recipe would probably translate to an Indian mild or Indian medium on spice level. As noted above, my minimum threshold is Indian hot. 

GOAT SUKHA

Recipe adapted from Relish the Bite

Serves 2-3

Ingredients:

• 1 pound goat, cubed, bone-in
• 1/2 teaspoon turmeric
• Salt, to taste
• Garlic, 5 cloves minced
• 5 dried chiles (e.g., Kashmiri)
• 1/2 teaspoon fennel seeds
• 1/4 cup onions, sliced thinly
• Few curry leaves
• 4 green chiles (e.g., jalapeno)
• 1 teaspoon chile powder
• 1 teaspoon coriander powder
• 1 teaspoon cumin powder
• Salt, to taste
• 2 teaspoons oil
• Lime juice and coriander (cilantro), chopped, for garnish

Directions:

1. Prepare the goat. Place the goat, turmeric and salt in a sauce pan and cover with water. Bring to a boil and boil until cooked, about 15 to 20 minutes. Remove the goat from the water, strain the water through a fine mesh and reserve. 

2. Prepare the base. While the goat is cooking, combine the garlic, dried chiles and fennel seeds in a mortar and pestle. Grind the ingredients, with a dash of salt, until they become a paste.

3. Prepare the curry. In a pan, heat the oil over medium high heat. Add the onions, green chiles and curry leaves. Saute until the onions become translucent and the chiles become softer. Add the paste, along with the red chile powder, coriander powder and cumin powder. Saute well. 

4. Finish the dish. Add the goat and stir. Add some of the reserved water and let it cook until the water evaporates. Drizzle some lime juice and garnish with the chopped coriander (cilantro). Serve with rice and naan. 

PEACE.

Pre-Punk in London

I have been a huge fan of punk music for a long time, but I kow little about what came before that genre. I wanted to learn more about the genres of music that could be considered pre-punk music, and, a particular beer provided me with an opportunity to dive headfirst into that proverbial pit. 

The name of that beer is Pre-Punk in London, which was produced by the brewers at Dogfish Head's brewpub in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. According to those brewers, this beer "harkens back to the off-centered feel of pre-punk London, when things were calm but with an underlying sense of something coming." Reading this description got me to thinking: so what exactly was pre-punk London?

The answer takes us to Ladbroke Grove, a name for a street and a neighborhood in western London. The area served as a focal point for the counterculture in the 1960s. Mick Farren, an English musician and author, decribed Ladbroke Grove and its residents as "an enclave freaks, immigrants and bohemians...." Some of the people who walked the streets at the time included, besides Farren, the likes of Joe Strummer, Lemmy Kilmister, and Stuart Goddard (who would become better known as Adam Ant). The "feel" of those in Ladbroke Grove at the time was anti-war and anti-establishment. 

It is from this area that the genre of proto-punk, along with bands like The Deviants (which Mick Ferran was a part of) and The Clash, emerged. Proto-punk is usually described as "stripped down" or "minimalist," but aggressive and high-energy. It gave us songs like White Riot (The Clash) and  Slumlord (Deviants). Or, in the United States, it was songs like Kick Out the Jams (MC5) or Trash (New York Dolls). These songs and bands, along with many others, set the stage for what followed, most notably, punk music itself.

I tried two versions of the Pre-Punk in London, first the cask version (which would perhaps come closest to how this beer should be served in the first place) and then the regular version. At first sight, the beer falls nearly into an Ordinary Bitter style, sporting amber or copper hues. A slight, off-white foam graced the top of the liquid, but that receded relatively quickly. 

The brewers describe the beer as having an "aroma of subtle fruit and citrus notes with a malty backbone." I could identify that "malty backbone," as well as a hint of citrus on the aroma. As for the taste, the brewers write of notes like "sweet bready malt, brown sugar and balanced citrus." The bready malt and even a sweetness (perhaps brown sugar) were present for me. The citrus was present, reminding me that this is a bitter ale. 

If I could find this beer on a store shelf, I would buy the Pre-Punk in London. A low ABV, English Ordinary Bitter just seems punk to me and perfect for relaxing while The Stooges play in the background and I delve even further into the roots, reaching into garage rock and even skiffle. Meanwhile, if you find yourself in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware, head over to Dogfish Head Alehouse and have a Pre-Punk in London. It is definitely worth it. 

PEACE.

Grilled Octopus, Roasted Salsa Verde, Tomato Piquillo

For the past several years, my work would take me to Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Most of those trips involved a stay at the Hilton Fort Lauderdale Beach Resort. Each stay inevitably included at least one lunch and/or dinner at a restaurant within the hotel. The restaurant is Sun Surf Sand or S3. 

I spent each occasion sitting at a table on the outside patio of the restaurant, staring at the Atlantic Ocean whose waves rose up to the beach across the street. I rarely spent much time looking at the menu, because I always knew what I wanted. It was an octopus dish, prepared with a salsa verde and a tomato piquillo. 

During my last trip to Fort Lauderdale, I probably ate that dish three times over the course of two weeks. It is perhaps the best dish on the restaurant's menu and it was always something that I looked forward to when I was in town. A plate of nice sized octopus pieces and large beans, brought together with the salsa verde and highlighted with the tomatoes and leafy greens. 

When I returned home, I decided that I would try to prepare this dish myself. I purchased some pre-cooked octopus tentacles (which makes preparation of this dish really easy), and all of the other ingredients. While I could try to prepare the dish as I remembered it at S3, I decided to do things a little differently. First, I decide that I would grill the octopus tentacles. That would provide a slight crunch that could contrast with the beans and the tomatoes. I also decided to prepare a roasted salsa verde. This required a quick roasting of the tomatillos, chile and garlic before blending them together with the cilantro to create the sauce. 

In the end, I am glad I made this dish. It made for a delicious, light lunch. Given how easy it is to make, it will be made again and again in the future. 

GRILLED OCTOPUS, ROASTED SALSA VERDE, TOMATO PIQUILLO

A Chef Bolek Original

Serves 4

Ingredients (for the octopus):

• 1 pound octopus tentacles
• Olive oil
• 1 can of gigante beans or butter beans
• Handful of micro-greens 

Ingredients (for the sala verde):

• 1 pound tomatillos, husked and rinsed
• 1/4 cup fresh cilantro, minced
• 1 garlic clove, peeled
• 1 serrano or jalapeno pepper, stem removed
• Sea salt

Ingredients (for the Tomato Piquillo):

• 1 cup grape tomatoes
• 1/4 piquillo pepper

Directions:

1. Complete initial preparation. Rinse the beans under cold water and set aside. Rinse the microgreens under cold water, set aside. 

2. Prepare the salsa verde. Spread tomatillos out on a baking pan. Roast tomatillos about four inches under the broiler for about 6 minutes until they start to brown on one side. Flip the tomatillos and continue to roast them for another 6 minutes. Remove the tomatillos and set aside to cool. Once they are cool, add the tomatillos to a blender wtih the cilantro, chile, and garlic. Blend until you reach your desired consistency, season with sea salt.

3. Prepare the tomato piquillo. Finely dice and mash the piquillo pepper into a paste. Add the tomatoes to a bowl and then the pepper paste. Combine until the tomatoes are covered and season with a little salt. 

4. Grill the octopus. Heat a grill over medium high heat. Brush the octopus legs with olive oil. Grill the legs, about 3-4 minutes per side, until the legs are charred. Remove from the grill. 

5. Finish the dish.  Portion out the beans on four plates or dishes. Slice the octopus tentacles in relatively even pieces, and portion them to each plate or dish. Drizzle the roasted salsa verde over the octopus and beans. Garnish with the tomatoes and microgreens. 

PEACE.

Crab and Crawfish Etouffee

"We have a common language with food."

-- Chef Leah Chase

Chef Leah Chase was a culinary icon in New Orleans, known as the "Queen of Creole Cuisine." Her restaurant, Dooky Chase, was a center of Creole cuisine and culture, earning her many awards and honors. But, Chef Chase's contributions go far beyond food. 

The restaurant, Dooky Chase, had an important role in the civil rights movement. It was one of the very few places in New Orleans where African Americans could meet and discuss the struggles of the time. Local civil rights leaders would meet in the upstairs meeting rooms of the restaurant, while Chef Chase would serve gumbo and fried chicken. Some of those meetings involved Martin Luther King, Jr. and the Freedom Riders. As they began to organize the bus boycott in Montgomery, Alabama, King and others would meet with local civil rights leaders at Dooky Chase to learn about the similar boycott in Baton Rouge.

The struggle for equal rights is an important part of our history as a country. That history is under attack. Such an attack is not simply an attack upon African Americans, but it is an attack upon all of us. It is an effort to deny a painful part of our past, out of a mistaken notion that our admitting to our shortcomings somehow makes us weak. To the contrary, acknowledging our shortcomings actually makes us stronger, because it is the first step toward fixing our past mistakes and building a better future. 

All of this requires us to know our true history, which inevitably and unquestionably demands that we acknowledge the contribution of everyone to our combined existence. This acknowledgment in particularly embodied in Creole cuisine. When one thinks of Creole food, perhaps the first thing that comes to mind is its relationship to French cuisine, most likely because of the Acadians who migrated from Canada to the Mississippi delta. But, the true history of Creole cuisine is so much more. It is a true melting pot, incorporating African American and Native American ingredients, processes and traditions. Creole food is truly a common language that unites multiple groups of peoples, each unique in their own history, but each of whom share a common bond. 

I wanted to acknowledge that common bond when I prepared this recipe of Crab and Crawfish Etouffee. I used my No Man's Land seasoning. The mix uses a Creole seasoning base but adds sundried tomato powder and crawfish powder, both of which are ingredients drawn from the culinary history of enslaved Africans. The combination of those powders added an earthiness and almost an umami to the dish, whcih easily made up for the lack of pork or sausage. In the end, this dish was perhaps one of the best dishes that I have prepared in recent months. 

CRAB AND CRAWFISH ETOUFFEE

Recipe adapted from Food & Wine

Serves 6-8

Ingredients:

• 2 pounds crawfish. tails and meat removed
• 4 1/2 cups of water
• 1/2 cup unsalted butter
• 1/2 cup all purpose flower
• 1 medium sized yellow onion, finely chopped
• 2 large celery stalks, finely chopped
• 2 large green bell peppers finely chopped
• 10 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
• 1 tablespoon Creole seasoning (or No Man's Land Seasoning)
• 1 dried bay leaf
• 4 thyme sprigs
• 1 pound fresh crabmeat, picked over
• Kosher salt
• Long grain rice, for serving

Directions:

1. Prepare the crawfish. Rinse well. Remove the tails and remove the meat from the tails, reserving the shells from the tails. Bring 4 1/2 cups water and reserved shells to a simmer in a large saucepan over medium heat. Remove from heat; let stand for 15 minutes. Strain stock and discard shells. Set aside 4 cups crawfish stock.

2. Prepare the base. Melt butter in a large heavy saucepan over medium heat. Whisk in flour. Cook, whisking constantly until light blond in color, about 3 minutes. Add onion, celery, bell pepper and garlic. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are tender, about 8 minutes. Add the creole seasoning, bay leaf and thyme and cook, stirring constantly 1 minute. Add stock, cook, stirring occasionally until slightly thickened, about 30 minutes. 

3. Add crawfish and crab meat. Add the crawfish and crab meat. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, about 3 minutes. Discard the bay leaf and thyme sprigs. Season with Kosher salt to taste. Serve over rice.

PEACE.

Gomasio

"Simplicity reveals the truth of taste."

Author unkown

 

There seems to be an eternal struggle within myself, particularly when it comes to cooking. I always feel the urge to prepare something big, even when (especially when) I am just cooking for myself. This blog recounts (in some, albeit incomplete detail) some of those cooking efforts. Those efforts send me on a search for hard-to-find ingredients, reading recipe after recipe for new processes and techniques. I spend a significant amount of time to prepare a dish that, in the end, usually does not look like the picture and does not always leave me satisfied in any or every sense of the term. 

In recent months, I have been trying to break free from that culinary and personal struggle. There are many reasons, beyond the obvious (namely, less stress). The most important of those reasons is my health. I want to prepare dishes and learn cooking techniques that can improve my overall health. And, as I have come to learn (and relearn again and again), the starting point begins with the principle of simplicity.

The concept of simplicity is a core precept of Japanese cuisine. A couple of ingredients, prepared together using basic processes, can be used to create a healthy dish. Rather than layer that dish with sauces or additional proteins, one can use other precepts, like balance, to add carefully ingredients that maintain the minimalist or simplistic approach. 

For me, gomasio represents a starting point for simplicity in cooking. Two ingredients - sesame seeds (goma) and salt (shio) -- are ground together to create a simple condiment. That condiment is packed with protein and calcium, which comes from the sesame seeds. It can then be used when one seeks balance in a dish, providing an earthy and salty flavor to a dish. It can be sprinkled over rice, added to soup dishes, or over sushi.

GOMASIO

Recipe from Elana's Pantry

Ingredients:

• 1 cup raw sesame seeds
• 1/2 tablespoon sea salt

Directions:

1. Roast the sesame seeds.  Place the seeds in a cast iron skillet over medium heat. Roast for 10 minutes, stirring constantly until the seeds turn golden brown. 

2. Grind the seeds and salt. Place the toasted sesame seeds and salt in a suribachi or mortar and pestle, grind to a coarse meal. Transfer to a glass container. 

PEACE.