Bajan Hot Sauce

"Yuh don't need to eat a whole pig to know yuh eating pork."

-- G. Addington Forde, De Mortar-Pestle: A Collection of Barbadian Proverbs

The words set forth above come from Barbados, wisely suggesting that one needs only a small sample of something to understand the value of what they are enjoying. That can be said of one truly Barbadian product: namely, Bajan Hot Sauce.

My introduction to Bajan Hot Sauce came with a bottle of Lottie's Yellow Hot Pepper Sauce. I would find bottles of it occasionally on the shelves of a local general store (attached to a brewery). The label reads, "just add a little of this national and international award-winning gourmet hot pepper sauce and all of your dishes and recipes will explode with flavor." That label evokes the above proverb. I don't need to consume much of Lottie's Hot Pepper Sauce to know that I am tasting Scotch Bonnet peppers. Just a little reminds me of why that Bajan hot pepper sauce ranks as one of my all-time favorites.

If one were to travel to Barbados to visit Lottie's production facility, as someone from Fiery Foods Central did, they would come across a building with fourteen people working around a table. The workers would be performing tasks like cleaning Scotch Bonnet peppers, chopping onions, and mixing spices. Some workers may also be putting labels on bottles of sauce. The owner of Lottie's, Jackie Heath, previously sold insurance. However, she decided she needed a change in careers to become a producer of hot sauces. And, as one of her consumers in the United States, I am glad she made that decision. 

However, Lottie's Bajan hot sauce is not always on the shelf of the stores where I buy hot sauce. So, while I continue my search, I also decided to try to make some of my own in my kitchen. I found a recipe on the website of Chili Pepper Madness, which is a site that I strongly recommend if, like me, you are into really spicy foods. Although I was not able to find some Scotch Bonnet peppers around me, I simply substituted a close relative to the Scotch Bonnet: habanero peppers. I wanted to make sure that I wanted to ensure the golden yellow color of the hot sauce, so I bought some orange peppers. (In any event, the use of mustard and, in particular, turmeric, nearly guarantee a yellow or gold color.) 

Once the recipe was done, it brought back memories of Lottie's Yellow Hot Pepper Sauce. It also confirmed to me that, if I cannot find a bottle of Lottie's on a shelf, I can spend about a half hour making the sauce myself. 

BAJAN HOT SAUCE

Recipe from Chili Pepper Madness

Ingredients:

• 4 ounces chopped Scotch Bonnet or Habanero peppers (about 12), stems removed
• 1/2 cup chopped white onion
• 3 cloves garlic, chopped
• 1 tablespoon yellow mustard
• 1/2 cup distilled white vinegar
• 1/2 teaspoon turmeric powder
• 1/4 teaspoon brown sugar
• 1/4 teaspoon sea salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice or to taste

Directions:

1. Prepare the sauce. Add the chilies, onion, garlic, mustard, vinegar, turmeric, brown sugar, salt and black pepper to a pot. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 10 minutes. 

2. Finish the sauce. Transfer the ingredients to a blender and add lime juice. Process until smooth. Adjust for lime and salt. Transfer to a clean sealable bottle and enjoy. 

PEACE.

City Chicken

There was a trend at one point in American culinary history where cooks would create "mock" dishes. One such dish was "mock chicken." As early as 1908, there were recipes -- such as one that appeared the Winchester News (a newspaper in Winchester, Kentucky) that called for two pounds of veal being cut up into pieces, breaded and fried in oil. "This is excellent," the article boasted, "equal to fried chicken."

By 1926, "mock chicken" got a new name, "city chicken." Newspapers, like one in Binghamton, New York, and another in Washington, D.C., published recipes for "city chicken." The moniker came from an article published in a Binghamton, New York newspaper. The recipes followed the initial steps of mock chicken, starting with 1 pound of veal and 1 pound of pork. The instructions called for the meat to be cut into chunks and then threaded onto wooden skewers. The skewers were then rolled in beaten eggs and cracker crumbs. The breaded skewers were then fried in a pan until browned on all sides. At this point, one would have been "equal to fried chicken," but these recipes went a few steps further. They called for the browned chicken skewers to be put in a roaster with two cups of water (or alternatively, add the water to the pan), covered and then cooked for an additional length of time. Once the skewers were finished, one was supposed to remove the skewers, add a cup of "rich milk" and then make a gravy.  The mock chicken got all dressed up. 

By the time of the Great Depression, the city chicken became a very popular dish. The reason involved basic economics: chicken was too expensive. There were no factory farms at the time, and, the farms that existed needed chickens more for their eggs than their meat. (A dead chicken produces no eggs; a dead rooster ultimately meant no new chicks.)  Given the scarcity of chicken meat, and consequently, its high price, most Americans -- who were already struggling to make ends meet -- turned to beef, pork and even veal. This reality was one of the reasons why pork farmers referred to pork as "the other white meat." The farmers were not boasting about the health benefits of eating pork, they were trying to convince people to substitute cheaper pork for the chicken that they really wanted.  Moreover, the dish returned to its more basic "fried chicken" roots, with the extra steps for "gravy" disappearing from recipes. 

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Eventually, chicken became more abundant and, as a result, more affordable. Yet, city chicken lived on, mainly in immigrant communities and working class families across the midwestern United States. Polish and Ukrainian families -- from Detroit, Michigan to Scranton, Pennsylvania, and many points in between -- adopted the dish. That was the case for my family, even as late as the 1980s. I can recall my grandmother making city chicken for us to eat, as well as extra servings that would be frozen and taken home with us for dinners on other days.   

As is the case with many dishes, city chicken began to recede on to the pages of history. As I grew up and moved out, I never thought about the dish, let alone prepared it or ate it. It was not something that I searched out, and, having moved out of the Midwest, it was not something that readily appeared on menus or tables where I lived. Yet, on a recent trip to visit my parents, I was sitting at the kitchen table and I got to thinking about city chicken and my childhood. The memories of seeing breaded pork skewers, both in the freezer and on the plate came back to me. I then decided that it was time to try to make this recipe myself. It would be the first time that I have ever made City Chicken and it would decades after I had last eaten the dish. 

I found a recipe from a PBS Western Reserve, which is the public broadcasting service in Cleveland, Ohio. That seemed appropros. I followed the recipe, but, my lack of artistic skills revealed themselves as my skewers resembled anything but chicken legs. Still, the endeavor was worth it. A chance to revisit a little of my own culinary history, as well as the more broader American culinary history. 

CITY CHICKEN

Recipe from PBS Western Reserve

Serve 4

Ingredients:

• 1 whole pork tenderloin
• 6 6-inch bamboo skewers
• Salt
• Freshly ground black pepper
• Dried thyme
• 1 pinch cayenne pepper, or to taste
• 2 eggs, beaten or more, as needed
• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour, or as needed
• 1/2 cup panko bread crumbs, or as needed
• 2 cups vegetable oil, or as needed

Directions:

1. Prepare the pork. Cut tenderloin into three sections, the thick center section and the two end sections. Cut the thinner end portion into chunks. Slice the thick center section lengthwise into even halves. Cut the center sections and thicker end portion into 1/2-inch slices. 

2. Prepare the skewers. Thread the pork pices, starting with the smallest pieces and working up to wider pieces, onto each skewer to resemble chicken drumsticks. Season skewered "drumsticks" with salt, black pepper, thyme and cayenne pepper on all sides. 

3. Prepare the breading. Whisk eggs together in a bowl. Pour flour into another bowl. Put the bread crumbs into a third bowl. Gently press the "drumsticks" into flour to coat and shake to remove excess fluor. Dip "drumsticks" into egg and press into bread crumbs. Place finished drumsticks on a plate in a single layer and refrigerate, uncovered for 15 minutes. 

4. Finish the dish. Heat the oil in a cast iron skillet over medium-high heat until the suface of the oil is shimmering. Cook "drumsticks" in the hot oil until golden brown on all sides and cooked through, 4 to 5 minutes per side. Transfer to a paper-towl lined plate, lest rest for five minutes. Season with salt and serve immediatey.  

PEACE.

Pisano Rio de Los Pajaros Tannat Reserve

Uruguay is a small country in South America whose name translates into "river of the painted birds" in the indigenous Guarani language. And, the name is an apt description of the rolling hills and rivers throughout the country. There are over 400 different species of birds of all sizes and colors, from small hummingbirds to large flamingos. 

Yet, Uruguay is better known for other things, such as its food. The country's beef consumption per capita is one of the highest in the world, which I learned about as I made a Smoked Ribeye Roast, Uruguayan Style. It is also known for the Chivito al Pan, a heart-clogging sandwich of steak, ham, bacon, cheese, egg, and other toppings that is perhaps my most favorite sandwich of all time. 

There is also something from Uruguay that is one of my most favorites ... a tannat wine from Pisano, a vineyard and winemaker run by a small group of family vignerons. The wine caught my attention because of its single varietal .. the tannat grape. Tannat grapes are perhaps one of the most tannic grapes out there, with thick skins, deep purple color and more seeds than other wine-making grapes. Those characteristics contribute to what winemakers and sommeliers would refer to as an "aggressive structure," which includes high levels of tannins and acidity. Those elements would make for a harsher, more astringent wine on their own, which is why Tannat is typically used to balance softer grapes, like Cabernet Franc or Cabernet Sauvignon.

The Tannat grape was first planted in the Basque region of France along the Pyrennes mountains. It particularly took root (pun intended) in the Madiran AOC and the Basque appellation of Iroulèguy. A Madiran AOC wine must include at least 60% Tannat grapes, supplemented by Cabernet Franc (Bouchy), Cabernet Sauvignon, and/or Fer (Pinenc) grapes. There are also Madiran wines that are 100% Tanat. In the Iroulèuy region, which lies in the French Basque area, Tannat grapes -- known as Bordelesa Beltza -- are also to make similar wines.  

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This history serves as the background for the wine that is the subject of this post -- a Tannat wine whose grapes are cultivated on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. Basque winemakers emigrated to the New World and one particular immigrant, Pascual Harriague, brought Tannat grapes to Uruguay. Harriage planted vine cuttings in Salto around 1870 to 1874. The grape adapted extremely well to the climate of Uruguay, in some rather interesting ways.  The coastal humidity and warm weather of Uruguay help to soften the grape, which help to make the wine more fruit-forward and less astringent (albeit slightly). The grapes eventally became the most widely planted grape in Uruguay, as well as the national grape of the country.  

There are two styles of winemaking with Tannat grapes: a traditional style and a modern one. The traditional style reflects its Old World origins, which a red wine that has a lot of tannins, deep red color, and a significant period of aging in oak barrels. These wines are very structured, and, require additional aging in the bottle, as well as some time (usually about an hour) in a decanter once opened. By contrast, the modern style creates a relatively "lighter" wine (Tannat wines can only be so "light" given the high levels of tannins and acidity in the grapes). These wines tend to be aged less in oak barrels (or not at all), and much more fruit forward than a traditional Tannat wine.  

In my humble opinion, Pisano's Rio de los Pajaros Tannat pours like a modern Uruguayan Tannat wine. The wine has a lot of structure, but with a medium-bodied red wine, with a dark red color that is not completely impenetrable. The winemakers describe the color as a garnet red, which I think is a good description. The winemakers also describe the aroma as "dark chocolate, red and black fruit, and spices." I get the red and black fruit, and perhaps some notes of chocolate. The spices were a little more hidden than the aromas. 

As for the taste, I definitely get the red and black fruit, such as raspberries, black cherries and blackberries. The winemakers also suggest some coffee notes, but, like the spice aromatic elements, they were a little hidden in the taste. The winemakers hit the mark in describing the balance of this wine. I could definitely sense the tannins in the wine, but they were rounder and softer, which allowed the fruit notes to come through more prominently.  

This wine is one of my favorites and I always pick up a bottle when I see it in the store. If you come across a bottle, I would recommend it ... you will have an opportunity to try a wine from a region you probably would not have thought to exist and a varietal that you might not have thought would be used to make a standalone wine. All in all, it is definitely worth a try, and another one, and another one. (I think you get the point.) Until next time ...

PEACE.

Gamja Bokkeum (Korean Sweet Soy-Glazed Potatoes)

This recipe checks off a couple of culinary boxes for me: one looking for new and interesting side dishes to prepare and another looking to prepare more Korean food. I have prepared some Korean dishes in the past, and even included South Korea as part of my Around the World in 80 Dishes challenge. (That was, in fact, my first foray into Korean cuisine.) And, ever since then, I have been wanting to prepare more Korean food. My only problem was fitting it in amongst all of the other cuisines that I want to prepare as well. 

This particular dish, gamja bokkeum, goes all the way back to the Joseon Dynasty, which ruled from 1392 to 1910. It was a dish of peasants, simple faire made from the relatively few ingredients that they may have in their kitchens or on hand. The very basic versions were prepared with potatoes, soy sauce and little else. Some "fancier" versions may have included vegetables, like carrots and scallions. And, while this dish evolved over time and by region, I wanted to pay tribute to its humble origins. Hence, this recipe.

In the end, this recipe serves as yet another reminder that the simplest of dishes could rival the most complex of dishes. The combination of soy sauce and sesame oil provide the earthy flavors that complement the starchy texture of the potatoes. Those earthy flavors are balanced by the sweetness of the sugar, and enhanced by the umami of fish sauce (as it always does). This recipe might become a go-to in the kitchen whenever I need a quick, starchy side dish.

GAMJA BOKKEUM (KOREAN SWEET SOY-GLAZED POTATOES)

Recipe from Serious Eats

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 3 tablespoons soy sauce
• 3 tablespoons water
• 2 tablespoons sugar
• 1 teaspoon fish sauce
• 1 medium clove garlic, finely grated
• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
• 10 ounces small Yukon Gold potatoes, sliced in half
• 1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil
• 1 tablespoon toasted sesame seeds

Directions:

1. Prepare the glaze. In a small bowl, whisk together soy sauce, water, sugar, fish sauce, and garlic until sugar is dissolved, about 30 seconds. Set aside. 

2. Cook the potatoes. Pour oil into a 3 quart saucier or saucepan. Add potatoes, arranging them cut side down in a single layer. Set saucier over medium high heat and cook, uncovered, until potatoes are light golden brown on cut-side, 5 to 6 minutes. 

3. Continue cooking the potatoes. Lower heat to medium-low, add soy sauce mixture and stir to combine with potatoes. Cover saucier with a lid and cook until potatoes are completely tender and offer no resistence when pierced with a cake tester or paring knife, about 10 minutes. 

4. Create the glaze. Remove the lid and increase the heat to high. Cook, uncovered, stirring constgantly with a heat-resistant rubber spatula, until the liquid has reduced and thickened to a sticky caramel consistency that fully glazes the potatoes, 1 to 2 minutes.

5. Finish the dish. Remove from heat, and transfer potatoes to serving bowl. Drizzle with sesame oil, sprinkle with sesame seeds and serve. 

PEACE.

Gambian Oyster Stew

"We had no money and struggled - we used to only charge 10 dalasi per cup, now its 60 dalasi. We are a family now, this association." 

-- Marie Demba

The above quote references the sale of cooked oysters by a female vendor at one of the markets in The Gambia. The quote is part of a larger story. It is the story of how that little bivalve can play an oversized role in the economic empowerment of marginalized people.

The Gambia is a very small country in Western Africa, basically running along the shores of the river of the same name. It is not a place that one would ordinarily associate with oysters; however, there are mangrove forests along the river. Those forests provide an ideal place for oysters to plant themselves and grow. And, for four months of the year, from March to June, the oysters can be harvested. 

Approximately 98% of the people who harvest oysters in The Gambia are women. During low tide, they take canoes out onto the water and, with small axes, the women chip oysters off the roots of the mangrove trees. Once the tide re-emerges, the women return to the shore. They process the oysters that they have harvested. The process begins with a sorting of the oysters. If the oysters are destined for a local market, then the women shuck them and cook them.  

All of this work is hard and dangerous. Many of the women do not know how to swim, so there is the threat of drowning whenever they go out onto the river. When they return safely, the women confront the absence of basic facilities needed to prepare the oysters, such as clean water. They also lack basic protective gear when they shuck the oysters, like gloves, leaving their exposed hands to being cut by the sharp edges of the oyster shells. 

Nevertheless, they persevere and do so collectively. For example, the female oyster harvesters in Kartong, a small village in the south of The Gambia, have joined together to establish the Senegambia Oyster Women Association. Through this association, the harvesters get training in oyster cultivation, including how to preserve the mangroves where the oysters grow. A video produced by the United Nations Food & Agricultural Organization describes their work: 

Not only do the women make money by harvesting, boiling and then selling the oysters, they also create additional income through the byproduct -- the oyster shells -- that are used to make jewerly or sold to be turned into white lime for construction uses. The women generate income to support themselves and their families, including paying for their children's education, paying their rent and even establishing their own bank accounts. The Senegambia Oyster Women Association has also grown, bringing in additional harvesters from neighboring villages. 

The story of the women harvesters, as well as their association, demonstrates perhaps the most important feature of the common oyster ... its ability to lift communities out of poverty through economic empowerment, enabling people to achieve economic independence and relative prosperity that has been otherwise denied to them. This empowerment has been demonstrated, time and time again, over the course of history, both in large countries, like the United States, and small ones, like The Gambia. 

Having learned how oysters empowered women in The Gambia, I began to search for a Gambian-inspired oyster recipe. That search was rather difficult, as there are few such recipes to be found. Nevertheless, I eventually I found the makings of an oyster stew in a video interview of Ida Cham-Njai, who is the founder of the Yabouy Home Cooking School. While I have made many oyster stews in my time, this particular stew provided a unique opportunity to try something different. Most notably, and perhaps expectedly, the base of the stew does not include cream. Rather, the base is created with tomatoes (which, quite frankly, I like a lot more than cream). Additional flavor comes from the use of onions, bell peppers, scallions and garlic, but there are no other herbs or spices added to the stew. The end result is a simple to prepare stew that is very delicious.

GAMBIAN OYSTER STEW

Recipe from Give Me This Day (recipe originally from Ida Cham-Njai)

Serves 2

Ingredients:

• Handful of fresh oysters in their liqueur (about 12 oysters)
• 3 tablespoons peanut oil, divided
• 2 tablespoons of tomato paste
• 1 large onion, diced
• 5 tomatoes, chopped
• 1 red pepper, diced
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 bunch of scallions, white parts diced, green parts sliced
• Salt, to taste
• Freshly ground pepper, to taste
• Cooked Rice, to serve

Directions:

1.  Saute the oysters. Heat 1 tablespoon of oil in a skillet over medium high heat. Add the oysters, and cook for only 1-2 minutes, until they firm just slightly around the edges and start becoming opaque. Remove immediately and set aside. 

2. Prepare the stew base. Heat the oil in a pan over medium high heat. Add the onion, scallions, and the pepper, and saute until the onion is translucent and the pepper softens, about 3 to 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for about 1 minute more. Add the tomato paste and stir to combine with the ingredients, then add the tomatoes and oyster liqueur. Lower the heat to medium. Continue to cook, as the tomatoes break down, for another 3-5 minutes. 

3. Add the oysters. Add the oysters, and gently stir the oysters into the base. Cook for about 1 to 2 minutes more. Remove from the heat. 

4. Finish the dish. Plate some cooked rice, and spoon the stew with the oysters over the rice. Garnish with scallion greens. 

PEACE.

Chapulines al Ajo con Chile y Sal

 One of the few chefs that I follow is Sean Sherman, a member of the Ogala Lakota tribe who has dedicated his work to preserving the foodways of indigenous peoples throughout Turtle Island (or what non-indigenous people refer to as "North America"). I have dined at Chef Sherman's restaurant, Owamni, which recently closed to make way for an even greater restaurant, Indigena by Owamni. I have also purchased his cookbooks, including his most recent, Turtle Island.

I have been reading the book, which is excellently written and very thorough, planning in my head how I can acquire certain ingredients and when I can make some of the recipes. However, as I reached the section entitled "Mesoamerican Highlands and Pacific Coast," I came across a recipe for Chapulines al Ajo con Chile y Sal. A simple recipe for which I already had all of the ingredients, including the chapulines. 

A couple of years ago, I made Tacos de Chapulines con Tequila y Guacamole. It way my nod to Chef Jose Andres, who served a very similar taco at his restaurant, Oyamel. Ever since then, I have kept dried chapulines in my pantry for future dishes. Now, with Chef Sherman's new cookbook, I had the opportunity to prepare a recipe for chapulines in a different, and more fundamental way.  

Before the arrival of the Spanish conquistadors and colonizers, the indigenous peoples who lived in the States now known as Oaxaca and Puebla, including the Zapotec and the Mixtec, relied upon chapulines as one of their protein sources. In fact, grasshoppers have more protein than beef. Grasshoppers were everywhere. During from spring to fall, farmers would head out early in the morning to collect the insects using special nets. The time of year would usually dictate the size of the grasshopper. Maria Itaka, a writer for Culinary Backstreets, once spoke with Inocencia Mendez, a vendor who owns Chapulines Dona Chencha, a food stall in Oaxaca's Central de Abastos Market. As Mendez observed: 

"The babies are caught in June, the small-medium and medium-sized ones are collected between July and August, and the medium-large and large ones in September, October and even November."

Once collected, the chapulines are washed and then cooked in water, salt, garlic, and lime juice. The chapulines are then dried and toasted on a comal. Once prepared, chapulines are usually served straight as a snack to hungry Oaxacans, or added as a garnish, such as tacos or guacamole, to provide a herbal or briny flavor to the dish.

While many people (including some Savage Boleks other than myself) may find chapulines off-putting, these insects represent a significant part of a cultural and culinary heritage of indigenous peoples across Meso-America. Indeed, the Zapotec and Mixtec peoples -- who live in the present-day states of Oaxaca and Puebla -- have a long history of eating chapulines dating back centuries, whether as a snack (such as this recipe), or incorporated into dishes, such as tacos or tlayudas. 

Finally, the collection, preparation, and consumption of chapulines also represents an environmentally friendly way to protect crops without the use of pesticides. A natural way to engage in pest control.  And, while there are many efforts to industrialize the raising and production of chapulines, pretty much like every other food commodity, we should be supporting those who have gathered, prepared and sold chapulines in the traditional ways. Traditions are worth honoring, which holds true for every culture.

CHAPULINES AL AJO CON CHILE Y SAL

Recipe from Sean Sherman, Turtle Island at pg. 224

Makes 1 cup

Ingredients:

• 3 tablespoons sunflower oil
• 2 garlic gloves, smashed
• 1 cup dried chapulines, preferably unseasoned
• 1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
• 1 teaspoon ground chipotle or chile de arbol

Directions:

1. Saute the garlic. Line a plate with paper towels and place near the stove. In a medium skillet, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the garlic, tilting the skillet if necessary to allow it to fry a bit in the oil and cook for about 2 minutes or until fragrant. Using a slotted spoon, remove the garflic from the oil and discard or add to a salsa. 

2. Saute the chapulines. Add the chapulines ot the skillet and stir to coat evenly. Toast for 3 to 4 minutes, stirring frequently until crisped. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the chapulines to the paper towels to drain. Season them with the salt and chile powder and serve. 

PEACE.

Dhal Bhat

"Dhal bhat power, 24 hours."

-- Nepali saying

Many cuisines are readily identifiable by one dish. For example, jollof rice would be cited for the cuisines of Ghana or Nigeria. Sushi could be identified for the cuisine of Japan, while pho could be identified for the cuisine of Vietnam. And, if one had to choose which dish could be representative of Nepali cuisine, that dish would be dhal bhat. 

The name translates literally into lentil soup and rice, which is a very good description of the dish. Yellow or red lentils are prepared with a variety of spices, like mustard, turmeric, coriander and cumin, to prepare a stew that is served alongside or with rice.

Yet, to Nepalis, dhal bhat is not just a dish or even a meal. It is a story as old as the people themselves. Nepali farmers have been cultivating both lentils and rice for centuries. Nepali cooks have take those two building blocks to prepare a dish that became the source of fuel or energy for farmers when they went back into the field. Hence the phrase, "dhal bhat power, 24 hours." Between 400 C.E. and 750 C.E., dhal bhat became more popular generally as both Buddhism and Hinduism, with their emphasis on vegetarian dishes, spread among the Nepali people. As time went on, especially during the thirteenth through eighteenth centuries,  dhal bhat went from representing fuel for farmers to a dish that meant hospitality and community. It was something that not only energized farmers in the fields, but also something that brought families together. Even today, when someone serves dhal bhat, it is a sign of regard and respect of the host toward guests. 

There are regional variations of dhal bhat within Nepal. If one travels the terai, which are the lowlands of western Nepal, they would most likely find a thinner dhal bhat prepared with mustard oil and chiles, making a spicer dish. If they headed into the Himalayan mountains, they would be served a thicker stew, with barley or millet serving as a substitute for the rice. 

I found a recipe for a dhal bhat prepared in connection with the Tibetan Nuns' Project, a charity that supports and educates nuns living in India. The dish caught my attention as part of my own Mindfulness Foodways, where I have been exploring healthier foods to prepare. A dish that could naturally provide power for twenty-four hours is far more preferable than western-style supplements. Although the source describes this dhal bhat as "Tibetan-style," it is very similar to the dishes prepared by Nepalis, whether in the Himalayas or the terai.

This dish challenged me in a few ways, but all of them are good. I have eaten lentil dishes in the past, but they are not a regular part of my culinary repetoire. This dish provided a compelling reason why they should be. Quite frankly, I should be preparing a huge pot of this at the beginning of the week and making a small bowl of this part of my breakfast for the day. That definitely provides me with something to think about. Until then ....

DHAL BHAT

Recipe from the Tibetan Nuns Project

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 cup red lentils
• 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
• 1 small red onion, chopped in small dice
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 tablespoon ginger minced
• 3/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon mustard seed
• 1/2 teaspoon tumeric
• 1/2 teaspoon cumin seeds
• 1/2 teaspoon coriander powder
• 1 medium tomato, diced
• 1/2 tablespoon butter or ghee
• 2 tablespoons cilantro and/or green onion, chopped. for garnish
• Water
• Basmati rice
• Indian chutney or pickle (achar) as accompaniment

Directions:

1. Prepare the lentils. Wash the lentils and rinse a couple of time. Be careful to remove any stones. If you have the time, soak the lentils in water as long as you can, up to overnight, before you cook. They can get very soft and can cook faster.

2. Prepare the rice. Prepare the rice according to its instructions. 

3. Prepare the base. Heat the oil in a pan for a minute or two. Add the ginger, garlic and onion and stir fry on high until the onion is a little brown on the edges, about a minute or two. Stir in the cumin seeds, salt, turmeric, mustard seed and coriander powder, turn down the heat to medium and cook for two minutes (stirring often). Add the tomatoes and butter. Stir and cover with the lid and cook for four minutes. 

4. Continue cooking the lentils. Stir in the lentils, cover and cook for 5 minutes. Add one cup of water, cover the lid and cook for 5 more minutes. Stir in 2 more cups of water, as the water will begin to decrease as you cook. Continue to cook on medium heat for 10 minutes. 

5. Finish the dish. Remove from the heat, garnish with the cilantro and/or green onions. Serve immediately with rice. 

PEACE.

The Other Fish Crisis

As someone who follows conservation issues as they pertain to what we eat and who we are, I often come across articles, essays, and studies about the critical state in which many of the ocean-going fish and mammals, like cod, tuna, groupers, sturgeons, and even whales. This work readily conjures images of massive sea-going vessels dragging even larger nets, scooping up everything in their path, threatening populations around the world. (For an example of what I read when I research posts like this one, check out Our World in Data.)

Yet, there is another crisis that is much closer to home. It is unfolding in the creeks, rivers and lakes all around us. And, it's impact could be just as severe, if not more so, than what is unfolding in the oceans. And, admittedly, I had not really thought about it until I received an email from Andrew Zimmern's Spilled Milk substack that led me to his post about the freshwater fish collapse.

The headline: 81% decline in migratory freshwater fish species -- such as eels, giant catfish, salmon, striped bass, sturgeon, and trout -- between 1970 and today, with the largest losses in the Caribbean, Europe and Latin America. That headline is based on a joint study recently released back in 2024 by the World Fish Migration Council, The Nature Conservancy, the Wetlands Foundation, WWF and others. 

There are so many reasons for the loss of freshwater fish populations, and those reasons are far beyond our control as individuals. However, as communities and as societies, we can do more to address some of the issues, such as environmental pollution, habitat loss, and overfishing that places these fish at risk. We can also be smarter and more educated when we shop for fresh fish. There are websites, like Monterrey Bay Aquarium's Seafood Watch, that can help you pick out which fish are raised and harvested in a sustainable way. 

MY FAVORITE FRESH FISH RECIPE (AS OF RIGHT NOW):

WHOLE ROASTED FISH WITH GULLAH MOPPING SAUCE

Recipe from the James Beard Foundation

Serves 3

Ingredients (for the fish):

• 3 dressed whole trout (1 1/2 pound each)
• 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
• 1 teaspoon cayenne pepper or sweet paprika
• 1 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 teaspoon turmeric powder
• 8 sprigs fresh thyme
• 2 lemons, each sliced into 4 rings
• 1 pint cherry tomatoes
• 1 cup of mopping sauce

Ingredients (for the mopping sauce):

• 2 1/2 cups apple cider vinegar
• 1 8-ounce can tomato juice
• 5 1/4-inch-wide paper thin slices of lemon rind (only the yellow rind, not white pith)
• 1 cup ketchup
• 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
• 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
• 1 tablespoon yellow mustard
• 2 teaspoons coarsely ground black pepper
• 2 teaspoons crushed red pepper
• Dash of hot sauce

Directions:

1. Prepare the mopping sauce. Whisk the ingredients together in a sauce pot over medium heat and simmer for 15 minutes, stirring constantly. Remove the pot from the heat and let cool. Store this mopping sauce refrigerated in a jar for up to six months.

2. Prepare the trout. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Pat the fish dry inside and out with paper towels. Make 3 diagonal cuts through the skin on each side of the fish and place on a rimmed sheet pan. Generously and evenly pour the olive oil over the fish. Season the inside and out with cayenne pepper (or paprika), garlic powder, salt and turmeric. Gently stuff the thyme sprigs and lemon rings into the fish's belly. Scatter the tomatoes in the pan and pour the mopping sauce over the fish. 

3. Roast the fish. Roast the fish for 25 to 30 minutes, basting every 8 to 10 minutes, until a thermometer inserted in the thickest part reads 140 degrees Fahrenheit. Remove the fish from teh oven and serve immediately. 

OTHER GREAT RECIPES TO TRY

If you are looking for some other interesting and tasty ways to eat fresh fish sustainably, then you can check out these recipes:

Ojibwe Fish Cakes: If you have lake perch or trout, this recipe enables you to make fish cakes in the style of the Ojibwe people. And, if you can get your trout from an Ojibwe-run fish hatchery, you are definitely eating freshwater fish in a sustainable fashion.

Pan Fried Trout: This recipe takes you to the country and cuisine of Czechia, where trout pulled from rivers can be quickly prepared and pan fried. This recipe is a prime example of how something simple can still be something delicious.

Masaledar Macchi:  A fish recipe from the Indian subcontinent that features a spicy marinade applied to trout before it is grilled. A relatively easy recipe that provides an easy recipe to make fish in a different way (grilled instead of in a curry). 

In writing this post, I came to realize that the bulk of my fish recipes involve fish from oceans or estuaries, as opposed to lakes and rivers (although some, like salmon, arguably inhabit both over their lifecycle. It has gotten me to think about making freshwater fish recipes more often, as long as they are sustainable. Until next time ... 

PEACE.

P.S.: The picture at the opening of the post is from the Divers Action Network.

Oysters with Lemongrass Chile Mignonette

Perhaps one of the greatest things about a mignonette sauce is its adaptability to ingredients. One never has to stick with a traditional mignonette that consists of shallots, vinegar, salt and vinegar. The sauce is, in many ways, a small canvas on which a cook or chef could create a variety of culinary artwork. 

Over the years, I have produced some culinary artworks (I use that phrase very lightly). I've prepared a Balsamic Mignonette, Lemon-Basil Mignonette, Beer Mignonette, Peach Champagne Mignonette, Mango Habanero Mignonette, and Green Mignonette. None of these mignonettes come close to a work of art. I am no culinary Leonardo da Vinci, Khalil Rabah, Amoaka Boafu, or Diego Rivera when it comes to mignonettes or any other culinary work. 

That is okay, because mignonettes are not supposed to be masterpieces. The sauces always play a supporting role. That role focuses upon highlighting the sweetness or brininess of the oyster. If someone is using an oyster to eat a mignonette, then they have turned the entire experience on its head. Mignonettes are intended to elevate the eating of raw oysters. 

But, I firmly believe that mignonettes can serve another purpose, namely, to introduce people to new flavors and flavor combinations. A mignonette should serve not only to enhance, but to educate. I often look for unique or different mignonette recipes that shed some additional light upon a cuisine or a people. That search led me to this Lemongrass Chile Mignonette. Lemongrass is a common ingredient in southern and southeast Asian cuisines, from Sri Lanka to Vietnam and every where in between (think Thailand, Cambodia, Laos, Malaysia and Indonesia). It is also a foundational pairing with chiles. Together, both ingredients add something missing from raw oysters. Lemongrass provides a citrusy aroma, as well as a little bitter or tartness, which works well with sweeter oysters). Chiles, of course, provide a little kick that also works very well with sweet oysters. 

Together, lemongrass and chiles (or, in this case, sambal oelek, which is an Indonesian chile paste) play their supporting role. They worked very with the Chesapeake Bay oysters that I paired them with, both Misty Points and Chincoteague Salts. But, I hope that this mignonette will open the door for those who may not be as familiar as myself with Burmese, Thai, Cambodian, Laotian, Vietnamese, Malayasian or Indonesian cuisine. Both ingredients can be found in many recipes from across the region. If you are looking for a starting point, perhaps consider Aromatic Chicken from the Shan Hills, a Burmese recipe' Ga Xao Xo Ot (Lemongrass Chile Chicken), a Vietnamese recipe; or Larb, a Laotian dish. All of these recipes are easy to make and delicious to eat.

OYSTERS WITH LEMONGRASS CHILE MIGNONETTE

Recipe from Hama Hama Oysters

Serves 2-3

Ingredients:

• 1 dozen oysters
• 1/3 cup rice vinegar
• 1 makrut lime leaf
• 1 tablespoon chopped lemongrass
• 1 tablespoon sambal oelek
• 1/4 cup finely minced shallots
• 1 teaspoon coarsely ground black peppercorns

Directions:

1. Infuse the vinegar. Heat the vinegar to a simmer, take off heat, and add lime leave and lemongrass. Let the vinegar infuse for at least an hour in the refrigerator (overnight is even better). 

2. Finish the mignonette. Strain out the aromatics and stir in the shallot, sambal and pepper. Chill for an hour to let the flavors come together. 

PEACE.

Clam Satay

Four very small islands in two separate reefs. They sit in the middle of a large expanse of water. It could be the Timor Sea or perhaps the Indian Ocean. As I wrote, the islands sit in the middle of a place where it is hard to draw boundary lines.

The islands and reefs do have names: the Ashmore and Cartier Islands.  The names were given to them by British captains: a Captain Nash named one set of islands after his vessel, the Cartier in 1800; and, a Captain Ashmore decided to name the other islands after himself in 1811.

Yet, neither Captain Nash nor Captain Ashmore "discovered" any of these islands. Long before either British captain came within eyesight of any of the islands or their reefs, indigenous fishermen from the East Indies (now called Indonesia) had been visiting the islands and fishing in their waters.  Those waters are home to a wide variety of fish, hundreds of different species including trevally, coral trout, snappers, dolphinsfish, marlin and sailfish. There is also a wide range of molluscs, including clams and giant clams in the area. 

As the indigenous Indonesians fished the waters, others acted with respect to the "ownership" of the islands. The United Kingdom annexed the Ashmore and Cartier Islands in the late nineteeth and early twentieth centuries. A few decades later, the U.K. transferred authority over the islands to Australia. The Australian government, or at least its Interior Minister Herbert Johnson viewed the islands as "almost valueless."    

Yet, the islands are important to those Indonesian fishermen. The governments of Indonesia and Australia worked out a memorandum of understanding in 1974 that sets forth the conditions by which those fishermen could continue to ply the waters around Ashmore and Cartier islands. They can do so only in fishing vessels that lack motors or engines. They also cannot use air compressors or compressed air breathing equipment. They are also prohhibited fropmentering the Australian Marine Park Sanctuary Zone, which includes the waters around some of the islands.

I came across the story of these fishermen when I found a recipe for clam satay. A satay is a quintessential Indonesian dish. It is their version of the kebab, meat on a stick grilled over charcoal and served with a sauce on the side. This clam satay recipe was inspired by those Indonesian fishermen, who collected clams around the Ashmore and Cartier Islands. 

This recipe is relatively straightforward: steam the clams, remove them from their shells, marinate the clams and then quickly grill them over charcoal. Yet, simplicity can result in something delicious, as these satay combined the slightly chewiness of the clams with the crunch of the shallots, along with the saltiness and sweetness of the soy sauce. While the recipe called for them to be served alongside Indonesian fried rice, quite frankly, the satay were long gone before any rice could be prepared, let alone served.

CLAM SATAY

Recipe from Food.com

Ingredients:

• 1 pound of clams, rinsed
• 5 shallots sliced
• 2 teaspoons sweet soy sauce
• 1 lime, juiced
• Salt
• Freshly ground black pepper

Directions:

1. Steam the clams. Place the clams in a steamer, steam until shells are just open. Cool and remove the meat. 

2. Marinate the clams. Mix the clams with the shallots, sweet soy sauce, lime juice, salt and pepper. Marinate for 30 minutes. 

3. Prepare the skewers. Place the clams on skewers and grill over hot coals until heated through, basting with the marinade. Do not overcook. 

PEACE.