Goi Ga (Vietnamese Chicken Salad)

 Ăn uống hài hoà 

(Eat and drink harmoniously)

Balance is important in every aspect of one's life, including what one cooks and eats. As I continue to explore the cuisines of cultures around the world, I have noticed a current that runs through the recipes and dishes of many cultures, including, by way of example, Vietnamese, Chinese, Thai, Indian and even Native American. It is balance. This balance may take many forms, such as a balance of ingredients or a balance of cooking methods. Nevertheless, it is still there. 

More recently, I found this balance in Gỏi Gá, a chicken salad that is commonly prepared in Vietnam. From what I could find, the salad originated in the north of the country. However, it is dish that is popular throughout Vietnam. Goi Ga is often served at home for family gatherings; but, people can also find the salad being served at festivals and even as street food. When one peruses the ingredient list, they will find a recipe for a light salad that incorporates chicken, fresh vegetables, fresh herbs and a dressing that features one of my favorite ingredients, fish sauce. 

Yet, there is something more fundamental about Goi Ga. It represents balance, or as the Vietnamese would describe it, "Ngũ Hành" or "ngũ vi." I have previously explored the multiple levels of balance in Vietnamese cuisine. For example, there is the balance among the five tastes: spice, sour, bitter, salty and sweet. There is also a balance in texture: crispy crunchy, chewing, soft and silky. There are even further levels of balance, such as in cooking methods. 

Balancing "Ngũ Hành" or "ngũ vi" on multiple levels can seem somewhat like a culinary game of 3-D chess. Gỏi Gá achieves that balance. The ingredient list illustrates the balance across all five tastes: peppers (spice), lime juice and vinegar (bitter), sugar (sweet), and fish sauce (sour and salty). It similarly shows a balance with respect to texture, with crispy elements (fried shallots), crunchy (peanuts), silky (olive oil), soft and chewy (chicken). 

Each bite of the Gỏi Gá brings with it a sense of harmony, and, along with that, a sense of happiness. This recipe is a call to be mindful of ingredients and how they interact. It is a mindfulness that I lack and have struggled to develop, especially given the lack of balance elsewhere in life, such as the work-life balance.  Still, If I can make this dish every once in a while, it will serve as a necessary reminder to take a moment and think more about what I prepare, eat and serve to others.

This may be the reason why I subconsciously keep coming back to dishes from Vietnam or elsewhere, such as China's Sichuan province. It is my own little nudge to find my some balance, even if it is only of the culinary kind. 

GOI GA (VIETNAMESE CHICKEN SALAD)

Recipe from Food & Wine

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 2 tablespoons sugar
• 2 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon fish sauce
• 1.5 tablespoons fresh lime juice, plus lime wedges for serving
• 1.5 tablespoons distilled white vinegar
• 1 tablespoon water
• 1 serrano chile with seeds, minced
• 1 small garlic clove, minced
• 1 cup vegetable oil for frying
• 2 large shallots, thinly sliced
• Kosher salt
• 4 cups green cabbage (from 1/2 small head), finely shredded
• 2 carrots, finely shredded 
• 1/2 small red onion, thinly sliced
• 1/4 cup coarsely chopped cilantro
• 1/4 cup coarsely chopped mint
• 3 cups chicken (from 1/2 chicken), shredded
• 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
• 3 tablespoons coarsely chopped unsalted roasted peanuts

Directions:

1. Prepare the dressing. In a small bowl, combine the sugar, fish sauce, lime juice, vinegar, water, chile and garlic. Stir until the sugar is dissolved. Let the dressing stand for 5 minutes.

2. Fry the Shallots. In a small saucepan, heat the vegetable oil until shimmering. Add the shallots and cook over heat heat, stirring constantly, until golden, 3 to 4 minutes. Drain the shallots on paper towels. Reserve the oil for another use. Sprinkle the shallots with salt and let cool.

3. Finish the dish. In a large bowl, toss the cabbage, carrots, red onion, cilantro, mint and shredded chicken. Add the olive oil and the dressing and toss. Sprinkle with the peanuts and fried shallots and serve the chicken salad with lime wedges.

PEACE.

Rohingya Tomato Soup

While much of the world (including myself) focuses its attention on the Middle East, there are atrocities that continue to unfold around the world. One such atrocity marked its seventh anniversary: Myanmar's ethnic cleansing of the Rohingya in the Rakhine state.

Seven years have led to between 750,000 and 1.1 million Rohingyans being forced to flee Myanmar for neighboring Bangladesh. Most of the Rohingyans who fled to Bangladesh have found themselves in Cox Bazar, a district where there are thirty-three refugee camps that, combined, house over 930,000 Rohingyans as of July 2023. 

The camps are overcrowded, many of which exceed the guidelines established by the United Nations Human Rights Commission ("UNHCR"). For example, the UNHCR standards provide that the number of people per latrine should be 4-6 and, in emergency situations, up to 20 per latrine. Six of the refugee camps are at 30 people or more per latrine and one is as high as 54 people per latrine. The UNHCR standard also provide that the number of people per water supply should be 1 water supply for every 80 people. Nine of refugee camps exceed that standard, with one of them -- the Nayapara Refugee Camp -- having a water supply for every 1,931 people. Add in the lack of educational and employment opportunities generally in the refugee camps, and, the situation is very bad and getting worse for the Rohingyan refugees.

Rohingyan refugee camp in Cox Bazar (Source: Danish Refugee Council)

Life for Rohingyans who remain in Myanmar is also getting worse. Approximately 636,000 Rohingyans remain in Myanmar, where they are subjected to an apartheid legal system that refuses to recognize them as an ethnic minority (even though Myanmar recognizes 135 other minority ethnic groups). To make matters even worse, those Rohingyan remaining in the Rakhine State are caught between a military conflict between the Myanmar army and the Arakan Army, a nationalist military organization. The situation continues to worsen and little is seen or heard as it is drowned out by events elsewhere in the world.

To be sure, I have spent quite a bit of time in recent months focusing on Palestinian culture and cuisine. However, I have talking about the plight of the Rohingyan people for years. I have previously focused upon the Rohingyans, their culture and cuisine, along with their plight. My prior posts can be found here and here. 

Rohingyan family (Source: CORE)

I return my focus to the cuisine of the Rohingyan with this recipe for a Tomato Soup. This recipe is not just any soup. It is a window that reveals a common bond shared between the Rohingyan people and many other groups of people from Pakistan to Thailand (and beyond). That window can be found in the combination of three ingredients: ginger, garlic and turmeric. Together those three ingredients are the base of a curry. And not just any curry. They are the fundamental building blocks of the original curries that emerged from the Indus river valley more than four thousand years ago. That historical curry is the foundation of curries across the subcontinent and into southeastern Asia. 

This connection proves a basic truth: despite an organized, governmental effort by Myanmar to strip the dignity and humanity from the Rohingyan people (by refusing to recognize their ethnicity and declaring them a stateless group), the Rohingyans have a common bond with the other peoples. This bond extends to the other ethnic groups across Myanmar. This tomato soup shares similarities with other curry dishes prepared in Myanmar, such as those who live in the Shan Hills. But the bond extends far beyond the borders of Myanmar, across not only the subcontinent and southeast Asia, but across the world.

ROHINGYA TOMATO SOUP

Recipe from SBS Food

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
• 1 large onion, thinly sliced
• 12 garlic cloves, finely chopped
• 40 grams ginger, grated
• 1 tablespoon ginger powder
• 1 tablespoon ground turmeric
• 2 tablespoons ground coriander
• 4 large tomatoes, roughly chopped
• 1 liter of water
• Salt, to taste

Directions:

1.    Saute the vegetables. Heat the oil in a large, heavy-based frying pan over medium heat. Add the onion, garlic and ginger and stir for 5-6 minutes until softened. Add the spices and stir until fragrant. 

2.    Add the tomatoes and water. Add the chopped tomatoes, water and season with salt. Bring to a boil, then simmer for 7-10 minutes until slightly thickened. 

3.     Finish the dish. Serve scattered with chopped green chiles and coriander (cilantro), with lime wedges and steamed rice on the side. 

PEACE.

An Internal Struggle

This is not the post that I planned. I have a relatively long line of finished posts ready to be published. I also planned out the timeline for publishing, posting on a weekly basis about my exploration of cooking and cuisine both here in the U.S. and around the world. 

This past week was no ordinary week. 

I am still struggling to process what happened. How a majority of Americans could vote for an openly racist and misogynist candidate for President. How could Americans vote for candidates affiliated with the Republican party, whose platform not only embraced racism and misogyny, but contains a Spanish Galleon's worth of planks that are truly unpopular with a majority of Americans? How could a majority of Americans vote for politicians who openly campaigned on such racism, targeting communities of color, and who publicly called for utilizing the government to inflict substantial harms on groups who have known little else than discrimination and persecution by the supposedly greatest democracy in the history of civilization?

Cooking provides an escape for me. It is a way to close the door to my daily anxieties and stress. I can immerse myself in learning about food and the people who prepare it. I often joke that this blog also serves as an outlet for my international studies degree, as I travel virtually around the world to learn more about people. I try to learn as much as I can about their history, culture, and, of course, their cuisine. 

In recent months, I have viewed my culinary journeys as following the footsteps of someone who I have revered ... Anthony Bourdain. He traveled the world in a quest to learn not only about food, but the people who prepare it. His travels took him to some very troubled places, like the Middle East (Lebanon, Gaza, and the West Bank), Haiti, and the Democratic Republic of Congo. He detailed in an open, objective way, the struggles of the people. In so doing, Anthony would ultimately show how food united people, showing how much more we have in common than what divides us.

Anthony Bourdain in Beirut, Lebanon (Source: No Reservations)

I have been "walking" in those footsteps for some time. Over the past few years, I have explored the cuisines of Armenia, Vietnam, St. Helena, Portugal, China, Mexico, Thailand, The Gambia, Argentina, India and Sri Lanka. I have also explored the cultures and cuisines of some very troubled places, like Gaza, the West Bank, Myanmar, Xinjiang, and Kashmir.  

It is the posts about those troubled places that have profoundly moved me, just as I expect it did to Anthony Bourdain as he walked the streets of Gaza or visited with home cooks in Haiti or the Congo. I learned about the struggles and suffering of people, the cause of which more often than not lied outside of their direct control. While it has been hard to write some of my posts (like those about what is happening in Gaza right now), there was always a small light off on the horizon. A beacon that, if it could guide humanity, would lead to something better: an end to conflict, an amelioration of suffering, and a restoration of human dignity. 

This past week revealed that such a beacon may, at best, be further off in the distance than I thought, or, at worst, may be nothing more than a mirage. Setting aside the untold level of masochistic pain that Americans have just unleashed upon themselves, they have also opened the floodgates to a further torrent of violence, suffering and pain around the world. 

For example, the past week's election represents an "all-clear" to the far-right wing Israeli government to continue and perhaps intensify its campaign of genocide in Gaza and ethnic cleansing in the West Bank. It waved on Israeli fighter jets to further clear the southern reaches of Lebanon of not only Hezbollah, but also of Lebanese civilians.

The past week's election will also embolden Russia in its effort to recreate what it lost back in 1991, pushing it to not only eliminate Ukraine's existence, but to further destabilize other countries, like Georgia, Armenia, Moldova, and the Baltic States. 

However, it goes beyond Ukraine and the Middle East. As Lady Liberty's torch goes dark, I look at the prospect of not just more suffering and blood in many other places around the world. Places where the strife was the result of a history that bears the marks of our past foreign policy or our current capitalist economy. (Just look up and down the Western Hemisphere.) Strife that will only get worse because the next administration lacks the empathy, knowledge, and understanding to do anything about it. 

Source: ABC News

As Lady Liberty's torch fades into darkness, I find myself struggling with whether the path that I am on is one that I should continue to explore. Why try, even in the smallest way, to promote empathy and understanding when a majority of people in your country just don't care. Why try to promote what unites us when that majority seems quite content to drown in what divides us. 

I've come too far to go back to posting what random dish that I made on a particular day. I could choose to explore the cuisines around the world, confining myself to places free of suffering and pain. I could limit myself to just cooking out of cookbooks or recipes off of the internet. But, that is not who I am or who I want to be. I can't turn a blind eye to what is going on or what will happen, which means that the road ahead is one that may be too overwhelming and unsustainable. I just don't know right now. 

While I try to resolve this internal struggle, I will continue to post what is in my queue. After that, only time will tell. Until then, I will close with my undying wish for everyone around the world ...

PEACE. 

Lahmajoun (Lahmacun/Lahmajo)

This post has been a long time coming. The spark of inspiration goes back years, perhaps more than a decade. I was sitting at home watching Anthony Bourdain eating with someone at a small restaurant in Turkey, most likely Istanbul. He and his guest were eating a flatbread that had a layer of minced lamb and vegetables. Tony identified the flatbread as "lahmacun." Ever since that day, I have wanted to make that flatbread. However, a lot of days went by. Then the years passed. I still wanted to make this recipe, but I made a lot of  other ones instead (as this blog will attest). 

Perhaps the one obstacle in my mind was making the dough. Sure, I make pasta, but I don't really do a lot of baking or working with dough. Thoughts of how long it would take to make the dough, or what would happen if I screwed up the dough, became difficult to overcome. However, I recently decided that, on some time off from work, I would take the time to make the dough. Then other obstacles got in the way. It seemed that more days, weeks and years would go by without me making this flatbread. That was, until I had a batch of thawed pizza dough in front of me. That batch served as the springboard with which I would finally make lahmacun.

Or is it lahmajoun or lahmajo? There is a serious debate in which these two words -- lahmacun and lahmajo -- are at the very heart.  The debate asks the question of where did this flatbread originate? Was it Turkey, where it is referred to as lahmacun? Or, was it Armenia, where it is referred to as lahmajoun.

As it turns out, the answer requires some explanation. The original name derives from Armenian, in which lahmajo means "meat with dough." One account traces the dish back to the city of Aleppo, Syria, where Armenian merchants settled from areas such as Aintab, Urha and Cilicia. The Armenian community in Aleppo began preparing the dish, and local cooks offered it to customers as "lahmajoun." The dish became very popular throughout Syria and Lebanon (where it is called lahm bi ajin), as well as in Turkey, where it took on the name lahmacun. 

Of course, those in Turkey disagree with the above account. The Turkish version traces the flatbread's origin to the southern Turkish cities of Urfa and Gaziantep. (It should be noted that there were significant communities of Armenians who lived in both cities until the end of the nineteenth century.)

Setting aside the dispute over its origin, I decided to make the recipe for myself. The batch of pizza dough made the preparation of this dish a lot easier for me. I could just focus on preparing the spread. I relied upon a recipe from the World Central Kitchen cookbook, which came from a Lebanese chef (which, for this reason, I will refer to it as lahmajoun). I made only one change to the filling. Instead of using a mixture of half beef and half lamb, I decided to use all lamb. There were two reasons. First, I think lamb is more traditional (although there could be some debate about that). Second, ground lamb comes in one-pound packages and I did not want to have to buy a separate package of ground beef. 

In the end, I think that this was a very good first effort at making lahmajoun. I think when I return to this recipe, I will try some of the regional variations, as well as incorporate other ingredients. Hopefully, it won't take a decade for that to happen.

LAHMAJOUN (LAHMACUN/LAHMAJO)

Recipe adapted from Jose Andres, World Central Kitchen Cookbook, page 85

Serves 4-6

Ingredients (for the topping):

• 1 batch store-bought, fresh pizza dough
• 16 ounces ground lamb
• 1 tablespoon tomato paste
• 1 tablespoon ground allspice
• 1 tablespoon kosher salt
• 1 1/2 teaspoons Armenian red pepper paste or finely chopped roasted red peppers
• 1 2/3 teaspoon sweet paprika
• 1 pound plum tomatoes diced
• 1 medium red onion, chopped
• 1 small red bell pepper, chopped
• 1/2 cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
• 1 medium garlic clove

Directions:

1. Make the topping. In a medium bowl, combine the beef, lamb, tomato paste, allspice, salt, red pepper paste, and paprika. Gently mix in the diced tomatoes, onions, bell peppers, parsley and garlic until well distributed - avoid overmixing. 

2. Prepare the oven. Heat the oven to the highest temperature, preferably with a pizza stone or foil lined sheet pan inside. 

3. Prepare the flatbread. On a lightly floured surface, divide the dough into 12 pieces (to do this, cut the ball of dough in half, then half again, then divide each quarter into 3 pieces). Roll each piece into a round about 8 inches in diameter and about 1/8 inch thick. Put 3 to 4 tablespoons of filling in the center of the round and use a spoon to spread it out nearly to the edge, leaving 1/4 to 1/2 inch border all around. 

4. Bake the flatbread. Depending on the size of the stone or baking sheet, bake the lahmajoun in batches until they start to brown but the dough is still soft enough to fold over - the meat layer will be completely cooked by the time the dough is done. There are no rules for the time and temperature. The hotter the oven and stone, the shorter the baking time and the tastier the lahmajoun. In a home oven that can reach 500 degrees Fahrenheit, it should take 6 to 8 minutes. While the flatbread is baking, you can grill long pieces of eggplant over an open flame until smoky, and season with sea salt.

5. Finish the dish. Serve warm. Lahmajoun are served folded over, sometimes with a squeeze of lemon, a yogurt dip or the traditional Armenian Ayran yogurt.  

PEACE.

Oysterfest 2024

It is that time of year again. The leaves start turning various colors. The cool breeze kicks up now and again. And there are oysters aplenty. That is, if you happen to find yourself in St. Michaels, Maryland and on the grounds of the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum for its annual Oysterfest. 

The Oysterfest is perhaps one of my most favorite events. I look forward to it every year. To be sure, I love the opportunity to eat oysters in a variety of ways, whether raw, steamed, fried (or, this year, they even had smoked oysters). It is even better when one can chase those bivalves with a beer from a local brewery, such as RAR or St. Michael's Brewery. I also like perusing the stands of local artisans of every kind, taking a particular interest in the photography of everything about the Chesapeake Bay, from the iconic Bay Bridge, to the workboats that ply the waters, to the crabs, fish and oysters that take residence in the bay.

Everyone obviously comes for the oysters, and there are always the mainstays at the event. There is the Talbot Watermen Association, who have numerous shuckers preparing plates of six or twelve oysters, raw or steamed. The six oysters to the right came from the Talbot Watermen Association. Other oyster vendors included the Choptank Oyster Company, which had a much smaller crew shucking choptank sweets oysters, and Slow Descent Oysters, which introduced smoked oysters to the event. 

There were other food stands as well. In addition to a few food truckers, there was the Tilghman United Methodist Church. Volunteers offered fried oysters, as well as their cookbook, What's Cooking at Tilghman's Island, which I purchased a few years ago and which I occasionally peruse looking for something "local" to cook. And, lest I forget, one of the favorite stands in the opinion of my little big guy - Big Bad Wolf Bacon. They are a regular at Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum events; and, in this case, bacon works very well with oysters. (One piece of advice for the future - they should work with the Talbot Watermen Association to sell a bacon wrapped oyster.) 

However, there is one part of the Oysterfest that always piques my interest, or, I should say, the culinary motivation of Chef Bolek. It is the Oyster Stew competition. Every Oysterfest features the competition, where local restaurants, chefs and cooks compete to see who has the best oyster stew. 

We have been going to Oysterfest since 2018; and, with the exception of last year, every year that we attended the event, we took part in the competition. Not as someone who has offered an oyster stew for judging (although the thought has crossed my mind on a couple of occasions), but as a judge. People have an opportunity to sample each of the oyster stews and then vote for their favorite one. 

Having judged several of these competitions, I am always struck by the different approaches that one can take with something like an oyster stew. This year's competition was no different. There were six oyster stews from six different restaurants or chefs. 

Here were the six contestants:

Bistro St. Michaels: This entry had the creamy broth, with right the right amount of herbs and spices. The execution of the chowder was polished, but it was more like a bisque than a chowder. I thought that the oysters were cut up too much, with some of them to have been almost minced. In my mind, a good oyster stew has oysters that should be a decent size. 

Ruse at Wildset: This entry presented more of what one would expect of a chowder. There were clams, but there were also potatoes, peppers and other ingredients in the mix. And, there were a lot of ingredients. Perhaps too many, as the oysters seemed to get a little lost in the overall presentation. But, it did have a very good smoky note from the bacon.

Theo's Steakhouse: This entry followed in the footsteps of Ruse at Wildset, presenting a more traditional chowder. Theo's Steakhouse also got the proportions a little better, with more oyster and less peppers, potatoes, and onions. I also liked the broth a little more with this entry than the Ruse at Wildset, as I felt that there was more of an herbal presence.

Gourmet by the Bay: This entry took on a slightly darker color, and I could not quite figure out the reason. It did not have the smoky elements of the Ruse at Wildset, although I did get some of that bacon flavor in this one. The rest of the flavor profile was a little different and it took some effort to try to figure it out. This entry did its part to set itself apart from the rest.

Oaks Waterfront Inn: This entry had the most oysters in it; and, the most whole oysters. That immediately elevated it above the ones that I had tried up to that point. While I could get the sense of other ingredients, they definitely took the back seat to the oyster. This stew also had the right balance of herbs and pepper, making it one of the more rounded entries.

Hambleton House Catering: The final entry really tried to set itself apart. Like the very first one, this chowder took on a more bisque like texture and approach. The difference between this entry and the first one was that the oysters were blended into the chowder (which is more of a bisque approach). This entry also had a different flavor profile, one that suggested curry rather than smoke.

To be sure, I had my favorites. My vote was for the Oaks Waterfront Inn, which I believe created the best overall oyster stew. My beautiful Angel chose Gourmet by the Bay, while my little bean voted for Ruse at Wildset. My little big guy decided not to participate. Our voting was all over the map.

But, we live in a democracy, and the overall vote produced a different winner than the one I chose. The overall winner was Bistro St. Michaels. (I should note that Bistro St. Michaels also won the oyster stew competition the first year that we attended the Oysterfest.) Oaks Waterfront Inn came in second and Gourmet by the Bay came in third. 

With every year that we attend the Oysterfest and every year that we judge, there is an after effect. It is the motivation on my part to make my own oyster stew. Two of those stews -- one motivated by our time at the Oysterfest in 2018 and another inspired by our time there in 2019 -- have made it as posts on my blog. 

I think it may be time to come up with another oyster stew recipe. Only time will tell and only if I can find the time. Until then ...

PEACE. 

Nuoc Cham Marinated Steak

One thing has become increasingly clear as I cook my way around the world: namely, that I have become a huge fan of fish sauce and recipes that incorporate that ingredient into a dish.  My growing interest in this sauce made from fermented fish and salt has led me to prepare a variety of dishes from southeast Asia. 

Many of those dishes incorporate a Vietnamese sauce known as nuoc cham. It is typically served as a condiment, served alongside something else. For example, I prepared and served it as a dipping sauce for raw oysters.  I also prepared nuoc cham as an unconventional sauce for a New Year's Eve fondue.

These efforts have elevated nuoc cham, increasing its presence in my mind. For this reason, when I happened to stumble across a recipe for Nuoc Cham Marinated Steak, I immediately added it to my "to-do" list. Unlike many recipes on my to-do list, which languish for long periods of time before I get around to making them, this recipe was made within just a few days.

There are three regional variations of nuoc cham - northern, central and southern. The northern Vietnamese version uses a broth made from pork and shrimp. The central Vietnamese version uses recipes that incorporate the same amounts of fish sauce, lime juice and sugar, but also with fresh chiles. The southern version uses palm sugar and coconut water.

This particular recipe seemingly draws from the central Vietnamese variation, because of the balance of ingredients and the incorporation of chiles. If the Thai chiles are too spicy for you, you can substitute a less spicy chile, such as a serrano chile or jalapeno chile. 

NUOC CHAM MARINATED STEAK

Recipe from Food & Wine

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1/2 cup fish sauce
• 3 tablespoons granulated sugar
• 3 tablespoons fresh lime juice (from 2 limes)
• 1 tablespoon soy sauce
• 1.5 teaspoons grated garlic (from 4 medium garlic cloves
• 3 Thai chiles, halved
• 1.5 pound beef strip steak (about 1.5 inches thick)
• 1.5 tablespoons canola oil
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• Lime wedges for serving

Directions:

1. Prepare the marinade. Whisk together the fish sauce, sugar, lime juice, soy sauce, garlic and chiles in a small bowl until sugar dissolves. Prick steak all over with a fork and place in a ziploc plastic freezer bag. Pour nuoc cham all over steak in bag. Seal bag and shake to ensure that steak is evenly coated. Chill for 4 hours. 

2. Prepare the steak. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Remove the steak from the refrigerator and let come to room temperature for 30 to 45 minutes. Heat oil in large cast iron skillet over medium high heat. Remove steak from marinade; discard marinade. Pat steak dry with a paper towel and sprinkle both sides with salt. 

3. Cook the steak. Add the steak to the skillet and cook, undisturbed, about 3 minutes per side. Transfer skillet to preheated oven and bake until a thermometer inserted in the thickest steak registers 125 degrees Fahrenheit, 12 to 15 minutes, turning half way through. 

4. Finish the dish. Transfer steak to cutting board and let rest for 10 minutes. Cut steak against the grain into thin slices and serve with lime wedges. 

PEACE.

Chicken Savoy

Recently, I have joked with friends and colleagues that my personal cooking blog, Chef Bolek, has become the means through which I have applied my undergraduate degree in International Relations. My posts have explored a range of cuisines and dishes across the globe. At the same time, it seems that posts about American cuisine have become few and far between. 

This post brings me back to the United States, and, in particular, to the State of New Jersey. The town of Bellville, New Jersey to be exact. That is where one can find the Belmont Tavern, an Italian restaurant that became the home of a truly American dish ... Stretch's Chicken Savoy.

The story takes us back to 1967, when the owners of the tavern brought in Charles "Stretch" Verdicchio to work as the cook. Stretch introduced the owners and the customers to a dish consisting of a whole chicken broken down into its constituent parts, rubbed with a mixture of herbs and cheese, and baked in a very hot oven. The chicken is finished with a splash of red wine vinegar that, when cooked down, becomes a sauce that can be spooned over the finished dish. The dish became a regional hit in northern New Jersey.

The actual recipe for Chicken Savoy is a closely guarded secret within the Belmont Tavern, much like the recipe for Oysters Rockefeller is locked away at Antoine's in New Orleans. Yet, there are commonalities among the versions that have emerged at local Italian restaurants throughout northern New Jersey. All involve the use of whole chickens, broken down into their constituent parts. All involve the use of a mixture consisting of dried herbs (dried oregano and dried thyme), finely grated cheese (pecorino), garlic and olive oil. And, all of the recipes involve the use of red wine vinegar, which provides a tangy aroma and taste to the dish. 

This dish is very simple to make. The hardest part (to the extent any part of this recipe can be deemed difficult) is the breaking down the whole chicken. Yet, one could make this recipe buying a package of chicken breasts and chicken thighs, which saves time. That results in a recipe that could easily become a weekday meal for a very busy family with little time to do prep work. 

CHICKEN SAVOY

Recipe from Saveur

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 3-4 pound chicken, cut into 8 pieces
• 1/3 cup finely grated pecorino
• 1/4 cup olive oil divided
• 1 tablespoon dried oregano
• 1 teaspoon dried thyme
• 4 garlic cloves
• 1 cup red wine vinegar
• Kosher salt
• Freshly ground black pepper

Directions:

1. Prepare the chicken. Position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat to 500 degrees Fahrenheit. Season the chicken generously with salt and set aside. 

2. Prepare the paste. In a small food processor, or a mortar and pestle, blend the pecorino, 3 tablespoons of the oil, the oregano, thyme, and garlic to a paste. 

3.  Begin cooking the chicken. To a large skillet over medium-high heat, add the remaining tablespoon of oil. Add the chicken, skin-side down and cook until browned on one side, about 6 to 8 minutes. Turn the chicken, then use a spoon to smear the skin with the paste. Bake until brown and cooked through, about 20 to 25 minutes. 

4.   Finish the dish. To the hot pan, add the vinegar and spoon it over the chicken until reduced slightly, about 1 minute. Serve the chicken from the skillet or transfer to a platter. 

PEACE.

St. Helena Fish Cakes

If you find yourself in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean in the southern hemisphere, you may find yourself very far away and very close at the same time. You will most likely be far away from any significant land mass, as both South American and Africa are separated by thousands of miles of ocean. But, you may be very close to the island of St. Helena (and that is a big maybe).

St. Helena sits in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean in the Southern Hemisphere. It is over 1,200 miles from the African coast (where one would be standing in Namibia or Angola) and 2,500 miles from the South American coast (where one would be standing in Brazil). The island is figuratively and literally in the middle of nowhere. 

That isolation proved helpful when it came to banishing a certain Le Petit Caporal (i.e., Napoleon) in 1815 after he escaped his first imprisonment on the island of Elba. But, there have been people living on that ten mile by five mile long island since the late seventeenth century. Recent statistics place the number of people calling the island their home at over 4,400.  

Saints (source: St. Helena Info)

The people of St. Helena -- who refer to themselves as "Saints" -- descended from Europeans, who were mostly planters, government workers and ex-soldiers. Given St. Helena was part of the British empire, there are also people of Chinese ancestry, whose family members came to the island as workers, or of other Asian or African ancestry, whose family members were forcibly brought to the island as slaves. Together, the Saints have developed their own identity, culture and cuisine.

The cornerstone of Saint cuisine is the Fish Cake. Given St. Helena is an island surrounded by thousands of miles of ocean, one could expect that fish would have a prominent role in both the cuisine. The most prevalent fish in the Saint diet may well be yellowfin tuna. Saint cooks take fresh tuna, shred it down with a knife, and then prepare the fish cakes with mashed potatoes, onions, parsley, thyme and bacon. But, there is one ingredient that is just as important to the fish cake as the fish ... the chile. A Saint Fish Cake must have bite (that is, in the Saint vernacular, it must be spicy). Most recipes call for a "chile" or "chilli," but, depending upon the bite you are looking for, I would go with a jalapeno pepper (for less of a bite) or a serrano pepper (for more of a bite). If a serrano is not enough, there is alway the Scotch Bonnet or Habanero pepper.

In the end, the fish cake was very tasty, but I have to work on my preparation skills with this dish. I am used to making crabcakes, whose starch usually involves crackers. The use of mashed potato was part of the binding agent was new for me. I had some difficulty keeping the fish cakes together during the cooking process, but that can be improved when I make this dish again. 

Until then, I can just sit back and think about a short banished emperor sitting at a table on an island in the middle of nowhere. According to historical records, it took a while for Napoleon to get used to his new surroundings. Records published in 1824, which was after Napoleon's death in 1821, recounted that "fresh beef was so precious as to have occasioned restrictions upon its consumption." While fresh beef may have been hard to come by, one could picture Napoleon staring down at a table of full of fish cakes. And, thanks to artificial intelligence, we can now see a relatively close depiction of that fictional moment for ourselves. 

If you are as interested about St. Helena's island as I am, check out St. Helena Island Info at this website. 

ST. HELENA FISH CAKES

Recipe from Aberdeen News

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1/2 pound Russet potatoes, peeled, quartered
• 1/2 pound fresh tuna
• Mild oil, such as canola
• 1 small onion, finely chopped
• 1 small clove of garlic, finely chopped
• 1 slice bacon, diced
• 1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh parsley
• 1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh thyme
• 1 fresh serrano chile, finely chopped
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/4 teaspoon paprika
• 1/4 teaspoon cayenne
• 1 egg, lightly beaten
• 1 lemon, zested.

Directions:

1. Boil the potato. Settle potato chunks in a large pot of salted water. Bring to a boil; cook until tender (poke one with a skewer, it should be easy work), about 18 minutes. Press potatoes through a ricer into a large bowl or smash with a potato smasher. Let cool. 

2. Prepare the tuna.  Use a sharp, heavy knife to finely chop the tuna (a little coarser than ground beef.). Use a fork to gently mix into the cooled potato. 

3. Saute remaining ingredients (except egg and lemon zest). Pour 1 tablespoon of oil into a large skillet. Heat over medium. Scrape in onion, garlic, bacon, parsley, thyme, chile and spices. Cook, stirring, until everything looks brown and tasty, about 8 minutes. Scrape ono a plate to cool. Wipe out skillet. 

4. Prepare the fish cakes. Scrape the cooled onion mix onto the fish and potatoes. Pour in egg, scatter on zest. Mix gently. Shape 8 pucks about 3/4 inch thick and 2 1/2 inches in diameter. Fry pucks until brown, about 2 to 3 minutes per side. Drain on paper towels.

PEACE.

The Blue Cat Apocalpyse

Blue Catfish. They are the prototypical invasive species with an all too common origin story. The fish  were introduced into local waterways back in the 1970s. The waterways included the James River, York River and Rappahannock Rivers.  The introduction was meant to create a sports fishing scene for anglers who wanted a good fight when they fished. They achieved their objective, but at a devastating cost that is still unfolding to this day.

Blue catfish are apex predators, and, they quickly took over the local ecosystems. However, unlike most catfish, which are bottom feeders, blue catfish pursue prey at all levels of the water column. That "prey" includes just about anything and everything.  The fish eat vegetation, but they also go after blue crabs, clams, mussels, and other fish (like perch, menhaden, and striped bass). Blue catfish also hunt and eat turtles, muskrats and, as reported on one occasion, and entire wood duck. These catfish also eat between 8% and 9% of their mass everyday. The result is that blue catfish populations have eclipsed the populations of other species.

This has taken place not just in the original three Virginian waterways, but elsewhere across the Chesapeake Bay. The blue catfish have made their ways into Maryland waterways, where, in some areas, they comprise nearly 70% of the biomass in those waters.  And, the blue catfish are wreaking havoc on native species, including, as noted above, the iconic blue crab and the striped bass.

To make matters worse, as an apex predator, the blue catfish has a very high perch on the food chain. Only raptors, like bald eagles and ospreys, constitute predators of blue catfish. And, then of course, there are humans. In recent years, people have started initiatives to curb the blue catfish population. One such way has been through promoting the consumption of blue catfish caught in the Chesapeake Bay. This got me to thinking about my favorite catfish dishes that I have prepared. While some of these involve regular catfish, all of them can be made with blue catfish. 

MY FAVORITE CATFISH RECIPE (AS OF RIGHT NOW): 

CAMBODIAN GINGER FISH

Recipe from AllRecipes

Serves 4

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

1/2 pound peeled, matchstick-cut fresh ginger

4 catfish fillets (about 4 ounces each)

2 tablespoons fish sauce

1 tablespoons soy sauce

1 tablespoon oyster sauce

1 large yellow onion, sliced

1/4 red bell pepper, cut in thin matchsticks

1/2 bunch green onions, cut into 1/4 inch pieces

Directions:

1. Prepare the fish. Heat oil in a large skillet over medium heat.  Cook and stir ginger in the hot oil until slightly softened and brown, 5 to 7 minutes.  Add catfish fillets, cook until firm, about 3 minutes per side.  Remove fillets from the skillet to a plate and set aside.  

2.  Finish the dish.  Stir fish sauce, soy sauce, and oyster sauce together in the skillet.  Add onion and red bell pepper.  Cook and stir until softened, about 4 minutes.  Return catfish fillets to the skillet and spoon sauce and vegetables over the fillets.  Continue cooking until the flesh of the fish flakes easily with a fork, about 3 minutes more.  Garnish with green onions and serve immediately. 

OTHER GREAT RECIPES TO TRY

If you are looking for other ways to taken down an apex predator like the blue catfish, I would suggest the following recipes: 

Catfish Curry: This recipe is a Chef Bolek original. I began buying "catfish nuggets" at my local grocery store because they were cheap and I like catfish (nuggets are the pieces left over after the fish has been filleted). This recipe draws inspiration from the southeastern Asian curries that I have made over the years. 

Catfish Milanese: A classic Milanese is made with veal, but there are versions that use chicken. Why not use catfish, which not only has a texture that works well with the recipe but a long history of being fried and served on its own. This recipe dates back to 2015, when I first noted the problem of blue catfish in the Chesapeake Bay.

Blackened Catfish with Maque Choux: This is a very close second to my most favorite catfish dish. I strongly prefer blackened catfish over fried catfish and the maque choux - a dish that incorporates corn, green peppers, onions and tomatoes - is a great accompaniment to this dish. 

General Tso's Catfish: If I have said it once, I have said it many times, "a general cannot live on chicken alone." This dish substitutes the catfish for the fowl that it would most certainly eat if it had the chance. The texture of blue catfish would work even better than regular catfish in this recipe.

There you have it ... a few ways that you can help cull the blue catfish population wherever it is taking over the waterways. 

One last note: if you happen to have blue catfish to prepare, just keep in mind that there may be some advisories with respect to consumption of the fish. Those advisories depend upon where the fish was caught. For example, if the fish is caught in a river such as the Potomac, or even in the Chesapeake Bay, the fish have been found to possess elevated levels of PCBs. For that reason, authorities suggest that, at most, you limit your consumption of such fish to no more than four times a month, and to fish that measure between 15 inches and 24 inches. These limits are stricter for certain populations like children. 

Until next time ...

PEACE.

Espetada

It has been referred to as "meat on a stick, the Madeira way." The word in question, Espetada, actually refers to the cooking method. The method basically involves skewing food on sticks and cooking it over charcoal. However, on the Portuguese archipelago of Madeira, the Espetada rises to a completely different level.

Madeira consists of four groups of islands: Madeira, Porto Santo, Desertas and Salvagens. Only Madeira and Porto Santo are populated, Desertas and Salvagens are both set aside as nature reserves. Yet, it is Madeira that is the most popular, mostly due to its long history of wine making. (Or, if you watched the recent Star Wars series, Acolyte, the beautiful landscape, as scenes were filmed at Fanal Forest and the parishes of Canical and Ribeira de Janela.) While Madeira may have some very beautiful scenery, it is the wine that has in many ways defined the islands, and certainly defines its espetada.

The history of Madeira wine dates back to the 15th century (before that, Madeira was principally known for sugar, as well as all of the negative things that came with it at the time, like slavery and plantations). Madeira wine is a fortified wine, which means that - much like Port - it is fortified with neutral grape spirits. The wine tends toward the sweet side, and often is served with desserts. 

For espetada, it serves as the liquid for the marinade. The marinade itself is fairly simple: adding crushed bay leaves (or laurel leaves), black pepper and garlic. After the meat marinates for at least four hours, one would skewer it and whatever else you want to add -- such as tomatoes, bell peppers, or chorizo -- to long laurel skewers. Those skewers then get placed over hot coals, which would be traditionally produced using grape wood. I didn't have laurel skewers on hand, so traditional metal skewers are just fine, as is using a gas grill if that is all you have ready to go. 

One last thing about the Madeiran version of espetada: it is traditionally made with beef, along with bell pepper and tomatoes. However, beef could be substituted with chicken or pork, as well as seafood like shrimp or squid. (Obviously, cooking times will then vary.) 

ESPETADA

Recipe from Curious Cuisiniere

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 1/2 pounds beef sirloin, cubed into 2 inch chunks
• 6 garlic cloves, minced
• 12 bay leaves, crumbled
• 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 1/4 cup Madeira wine
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 3 Roma tomatoes, halved
• 2 green peppers, halved and seeded
• 2 teaspoons salt

Directions:

1. Marinate the meat. In a small bowl, mix together minced garlic, crushed bay leaves, and black pepper.  Rub the beef chunks with the mixture and place them in a flat baking dish or ziploc bag.  In another small bow, mix together the Madeira wine and olive oil. Pour the wine mixture over the beef cubes, making sure that they are well coated.  Refrigerate the beef for at least 4 hours or overnight. 

2. Prepare the skewers. Preheat the grill to medium high heat. Place the beef chunks on soaked, sturdy wooden skewers (or metal skewers) interspersed with tomato and green pepper halves. Sprinkle the beef and vegetables with salt. 

3. Grill the skewers. Grill the meat for 3-5 minutes. Flip the skewers and grill for an additional 3-5 minutes, until the beef is just starting to become firm.  Remove the skewers from the grill to a platter. Cover the skewers with aluminum foil and let them stand for 10 minutes before serving.

4. Finish the dish. Serve the skewers on a bed of crusty bread, drizzled with any juices that pooled in the platter as they rested. 

PEACE.