Long Pepper Chicken

Historical recipes truly amaze me, especially the old ones. And, when I say, "old" I mean really old. This historical, culinary interest of mine can itself be dated back to a dish called Etruscan Chicken. That was the first time that I made a concerted effort to learn about the history of an ancient people, along with their cuisine and that dish. Since then, whenever I see a possible recipe that could serve as a springboard into some historical research, I jump at the opportunity. Sometimes, that effort may only involve going back a few hundred years. Other times, like the one that serves as the focus of this post, go back millennia.  

The subject is a recipe for Long Pepper Chicken. The recipe's history can be traced back to around 200 to 300 BCE. Historians found the recipe in the Arthashastra, which an ancient Sanskrit treatise written around that time. They believe that the reci[pe was written by Kautilya, who was an assistant to the first emperor, Chandragupta, of the Maurya Empire. Yet, the Arthashastra was not a cookbook; instead, the venerable tract primarily addressed economic policy, military strategy and the management of state affairs. Kautilya's work helped the emperor establish an empire that ruled over much of the Indian subcontinent at a time when the Ptolemies ruled over Egypt and there were still two republics -- the Roman Republic and the Carthaginian Republic -- in the central Mediterranean. 

While the Arthashastra dealt primarily with political, economic and military issues, Kautilya nevertheless included discussions about food. After all, no empire can survive, let alone thrive, unless all of its citizens are fed. To that end, Kautilya gave us a glimpse into what an average person ate during the third century B.C.E. A meal basically consisted of a kilogram of rice or grain, a quarter-litre of soup, 1/16 liter of ghee or oil and salt. That was a meal for an average male. Women received 3/4 of those amounts and children received only 1/2 of that amount. 

The Arthashastra also included discussions of how to cook meat. Typically, for one kilogram (or two pounds of meat), cooks would use fifty grams of salt, 50 grams of sugar, 10 grams of spices, whopping 1.25 kilograms of yogurt, and a small amount of ghee or oil. Of course, when one talks about spices, it was usually, among other things, ginger, cumin, mustard, coriander and long pepper. 

As for Long Pepper Chicken, Kautilya provided the recipe, but in terms of Mauryan measurements. One needed 20 balas of chicken meat and one kaduba of ghee or oil, along with curd, salt and spices, like ginger, mustard seeds and long peppers (apparently to be measured by one's own instinct or experience, like many modern chefs do today). 

And here is where we get another look into the history of food. The use of long pepper, which originated in the Indian subcontinent and southeastern Asia, goes back to the sixth or fifth century B.C.E.  We can trace this ingredient that far back because it is mentioned in the works of Hippocrates, although he referred to long pepper as a medicine, rather than a spice. Yet, cooks used long peppers because it provided a sweet and pungent flavor. It was the principal pepper used by cooks across Asia and Europe until it was ultimately displaced by the black peppercorn in the 14th century C.E. (which later faced its own competition from the chiles originating in the New World). 

So this recipe is not only one of the oldest known Indian recipes, but also a recipe that uses a venerable spice. Both the recipe and the long pepper seemed lost to history. Indeed, the Arthashastra was lost for a period of time, only to be rediscovered by researchers in 1905. The long pepper was also lost, pushed into obscurity by the black peppercorn and chiles (at least for me), until 2025, when I came across a bag of dried long peppers in a local Indian supermarket. Just as there are long peppers left in that bag, there are more stories to tell about the spice. Those will have to wait for future posts.... 

LONG PEPPER CHICKEN

Recipe from Indiaphile

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken thighs
• 1/4 cup ghee
• 3/4 cup yogurt
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 12 long peppers, split (roughly grind 5 peppers in a mortar and paste, leave 7 whole)
• 1/2 teaspoon mustard seeds
• 1 teaspoon ginger paste (grated with micro-plane)
• 1 teaspoon lemon juice

Directions:

1. Marinate the chicken. Whisk the yogurt in a bowl to smooth it out. Add crushed long pepper, ginger and salt. Stir to combine. Add chicken and stir to coat. Cover and let marinate for at least 30 minutes to overnight.

2. Cook the chicken. Heat the oil in a large pan. Add mustard seeds and allow them to pop for a few seconds. Add whole peppers and let them cook for about 20 seconds. Add marinated chicken and let it brown, then turn the pieces and allow the other side to brown. It will take about 6 minutes on each side. 

3. Continue cooking the chicken. Add 1/4 cup of water to the marinade. Stir and pour over the chicken. Deglaze the pan by scraping it with a spatula. Cook the chicken in the sauce until it has reduced to half, about 6-8 minutes. Add water to adjust consistency. Finish with a squeeze of lemon. 

PEACE.

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Ireland

 "Laughter is brightest in the place where the food is."

-- Irish proverb

This proverb recognizes that food, especially good food, can create community, bringing together people in an environment of hospitality and inclusion, which leads to happiness and joy. While that recognition is a truism, the proverb originated in a country, Ireland, whose history is marked with roughly seven centuries of colonization, deprivation, and famine. That history hardly produces circumstances where food, let alone laughter, abounds.

Yet, the history of the Irish people and their cuisine goes back much further than British colonialism. Indeed, Irish cuisine spans some 8,000 years and that history has been well documented. As chef, restauranteur and writer J.P. McMahon once observed, "[f]ood has always lived in the background of Irish poetry and folklore, simmering quietly, never quite at its centre, yet essential to its scent and materiality." Indeed, one needs only look to Irish literature to get some insight into the ingredients, dishes and meals that have been served across the Emerald Isle over time. And, As Mairtin Mac Con Iomaire and Eamon Maher wrote in Tickling the Palate (2014), "Irish literature is replete with descriptions of food." 

Take, for example, The Hermit's Song or Marban to Guaire. It is a poem written in the 8th century C.E. The poem reads:

To what meals the woods invite me

All about! 

There are water, herbs and cresses,

Salmon, trout.

A clutch of eggs, sweet mast and honey

Are my meat,

Heathberries and whortleberries for a sweet.

Round me grows,

There are hips and haws and strawberries,

Nuts and sloes.

And when summer spreads its mantle

What a sight! 

Marjoram and leaks and pignuts,

Juicy, bright.

All of those wonderful ingredients and not one of them was a potato. (Potatoes are a relatively new ingredient, having been introduced in Ireland about 400 years ago.)

This wealth of ingredients and dishes fell out of reach for most Irish over time, and the literature describing Irish cuisine became more barren. Much of this occurred during the period of English and British colonization, which began in 1169 but brought the entire island under colonial rule during the 17th century. The colonialist policies, along with British landownership, forced much of the population into poverty.  And, by 1840, nearly 75% of the Irish were poor. Their cuisine became one that is often described as the food of the poor. The Irish survived by raising and eating what they had on hand, whether it was sheep or root vegetables -- like the potato -- that they could cultivate in their own gardens.  Indeed, the potato was vital to survival. As Dr. Mac Con Iomaire observed, the Irish found that they could grow "enough potatoes on one acre of poor or marginal land to feed a family of ten, with very little work." But, when the potato blight hit Ireland, the loss of this critical foodstuff led to the Great Famine and Great Hunger, with at least one million dying and another million leaving Ireland. 

As one would expect, Irish literature reflected the more difficult times. The ballad, "The Praties They Grow Small" is a work that starkly evokes the hunger of the Irish people: 

Oh, the praties they grow small,

Over here, over here

Oh, the praties they grow small

And we dig them in the fall.

And we eat them skins and all, 

Over here, over here.

Oh, I wish that we were geese,

Night and morn, night and morn,

Oh, I wish that we were geese,

For they fly and take their ease

And they live and die in peace,

Eating corn, eating corn.

The long periods of deprivation took their toll in so many ways. And, as writer J.P. McMahon explored in their work, that deprivation continued to present itself in Irish art and literature, long after the end of colonialization.

Since its independence, Ireland -- along with its people and their cuisine -- have indeed recovered what they have lost with a return to the wealth of ingredients from both the land and the sea. For one thing, the Irish are known for their cheeses, whether it is the Dunbarra, a brie style cheese from County Cork; the Durrus, a washed rind cheese from West Cork; or the Drumlin, a raw cow's milk cheese from County Cavan. (Not all Irish cheese begin with the letter "D" but I chose these three to show the range of cheeses from north to south of the isle). Then there is also the seafood, whether it is mussels in cream, served along the shores of the Galway Bay, or the Dublin Bay prawns. And, of course, the there are beef, lamb and mutton dishes, such as Irish Stew, corned beef, and spiced beef.  

MAIN COURSE

Irish stew has always been prepared with what farmers and their families had on hand. Prior to the late 16th century, the stew consisted basically of mutton (or goat), onions and water. After the potato was introduced to Ireland in the late 1500s, farmers and cooks began adding slices of the tuber to help thicken the stew. 

One of the earliest written recipes for Irish Stew, which reflects the combination of mutton, onions, potatoes and water, comes from the O'Brien family, who lived in southern Ireland during the 1600s. The Countess of Thomond wrote down the recipe: 

To make an Irish stew of mutton Season the bones of a neck of mutton with pepper and salt, put it down with a layer of onions, put them in a covered stewpan, to keep in the steam & as much water as will cover it. The chops must be very tender, but as they are all put down together, the potatoes must be taken out first, as they burst. 

Over time, as more ingredients became available, cooks would add them to the stew, such as substituting lamb for mutton. And, that is what I am doing here, as the preparation of Irish Stew will satisfy this personal culinary challenge for my Around the World in 80 Dishes. 

STOBHACH GAELACH (IRISH STEW)

Recipe from New York Times

Serves 6 to 8

Ingredients:

• 3 pounds lamb shoulder, cut into 2 inch chunks
• Salt
• Pepper
• 4 tablespoons vegetable oil
• 2 pounds onions (about 6 medium), cut into wedges
• 1 pound of carrots (about 6 medium), cut into 3-inch lengths
• 4 cups chicken, veal or beef broth
• 1 large sprig thyme
• 3 pounds russet potatoes (about 12 small), peeled and halved in 2-inch thick slices

Directions:

1. Brown the lamb. Pat lamb dry and season well with salt and pepper. Put oil in a heavy-bottomed soup pot over medium high heat. Brown meat on all sides, working in batches. 

2. Cook vegetables. Set meat aside and add onions and carrots to the pot. Season with salt and pepper. Cook vegetables, stirring, until lightly browed, about 3 minutes. Heat oven to 350 degrees. 

3. Continue the stew. Return meat to pot, add broth and bring to a simmer. Put in thyme sprig and arrange potatoes on top (it's fine if potatoes are not completely submerged. Season potatoes, cover pot and transfer to oven). 

4. Continue the stew. Bake for about 1 hour, until lamb is quite tender when probed with a skewer or pairing knife. Remove fat from the top of broth. Ladle stew into shallow bowls and serve. 

SIDE DISH

Colcannon is a uniquely Irish dish that features mashed potatoes mixed with kale or cabbage. As Dr. Mairtin Mac Con Iomaire once described it, colcannon brings together the ancient and the modern of Irish cuisine. The ancient is represented in the cabbage or kale, which has been grown by the Irish on farms or in gardens for centuries. The modern is, as you may have guessed by now, the potato. The combination of the two ingredients creates a filling dish that could sustain a working person, whether in the fields or in factories, for a long time. 

And, as you also may have guessed, colcannon has its place in Irish art and literature. The first reference to the dish comes from a diary entry written in 1735 by William Bulkely. Mr. Bulkely was traveling from Wales and found himself in Dublin on Halloween night. As he recalled, "Dined at Cos. Wm. Parry, and also supped there upon a shoulder of mutton roasted and what they call there Coel Callen, which is cabbage boiled, potatoes, and parsnips, all this mixed together. They eat well enough, and is a Dish always ahd in this Kingdom on this night." 

There is also a children's song, "The Auld Skillet Pot," that provides a rather vivid description of the dish. The lyrics include: 

Well, did you ever make colcannon made with lovely picked cream

With the greens and scallions mingled like a picture in a dream

Did you ever make a hole on top to hold the 'melting' flake

Of the creamy flavored butter that our mothers used to make

Oh you did, so you did, so did he and so did I

And the more I think about it, sure the nearer I'm to cry

Oh weren't them the happy days when troubles we knew not

And our mother made colcannon in the little skillet pot.

Guided, and perhaps inspired, by this history and art, I decided to make colcannon. (I have to admit that I needed that inspiration because neither cabbage nor kale rank very high on the list of my favorite ingredients to cook with or eat.) And, while I will not be composing songs or writing poems about this dish, I have to admit that it was very good ... and filling.  

COLCANNON

Recipe from The Spruce Eats

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 3 large (about 2 pounds) Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and quartered
• 2 teaspoons fine salt, more to taste
• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature, divided
• 3 cups coarsely chopped kale or other seasonal greens (leaves only, tough ribs discarded)
• 4 medium green onions, thinly sliced, white and green parts divided
• 1 dried or fresh bay leaf
• 1 1/4 cups milk
• 1 teaspoon dry mustard powder
• Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Directions:

1. Boil the potatoes. Put the potatoes into a large (4-quart) saucepan. Add 2 teaspoons fine salt and enough cold water to cover the potatoes by 2 inches. Bring to a boil over high heat. Cook until the largest potatoes are tender (they will yield easily when pierced with a fork and break apart), about 12 minutes. Drain in a colander set in a sink while you prepare the greens. Set the saucepan aside; you will use it again. 

2. Prepare the greens. Melt 2 tablespoons of unsalted butter in a medium skillet over medium, heat. Add the kale (or other seasonal greens), white parts of the scallions, and the bay leaf and cook, stirring occasionally until the kale is tender, about 5 minutes. 

3. Add the milk. Add the milk and dry mustard. Once the milk simmers, reduce the heat to low and keep warm. 

4. Finish the dish. Return the drained potatoes to the reserved saucepan. Add the remaining 4 tablespoons of unsalted butter and the green parts of the scallions. Mash with a potato masher until nearly smooth. Add the kale-milk mixture to the saucepan, discarding the bay leaf. Stir to combine. The mixture may initially appear too liquidy, but it will thicken as the potato starch absorbs the mosture. Season with salt and freshly ground pepper to taste and serve. 

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This challenge was a success, especially given that I ate the Colcannon despite my aversion to kale. The Irish stew was also delicious and, although I was a little worried about the size of the lamb chunks and other chunks, they cooked nicely. (Tip: maybe cook stuff a little longer, maybe 15 minutes more.) There is so much more that I could write about, both with respect to Irish cuisine and its reflection in art and literature. There is also so much more I need to make, whether it is Mussels and Cream from the south of the Island or Greencastle Chowder from the north of the Island. There will definitely be additional posts about Ireland and its cuisine. Until then ...

PEACE.

Salmoriglio

Its history is lost to time. That happens sometimes when a recipe has been around for so long, that people forget where it came from. Take, for instance, salmorigio (which comes from the Sicilian word, salmurigghiu, a lemony sauce made with parsley, oregano, and olive oil that has been used as a marinade or served alongside dishes for centuries in kitchens and restaurants across Calabria and Sicily. (Although one could indirectly date the sauce back to at least the 9th century C.E., when Arabs brought lemon trees to Sicily during their colonization of the island.)

When I first came across a recipe for salmorigio, my mind immediately associated it with the chimichurri sauces of Argentina. Fresh green herbs, combined with garlic, and then blitzed or mixed with olive oil and, in the case of salmoriglio, a little bit of water. 

As I would come to learn, salmorigio is separate and distinct from chimichurri sauce. For one thing, the prominent taste element in salmorigio is lemon, which is infused two-ways into the sauce: first, through the addition of lemon juice; and, second, through the use of lemon zest. The result is a sauce that features the citrus first and foremost, unlike a chimichurri, in which much more garlic is used to create sauce. The difference is notable: salmoriglio is a thinner, smoother sauce that has a lighter, fresher flavor.  

That texture and flavor may explain why Calabrians and Sicilians use salmoriglio as a sauce, dressing or marinade with chicken and seafood. I, on the other hand, decided to use it with beef. I came across a recipe for Carne Arustuta, which is a Sicilian grilled steak recipe. The recipe calls for marinading the beef with, among other things, lemon juice and lemon zest. I thought that those ingredients, which are shared by both salmoriglio and carne arustuta, could be what ties the two recipes together. And, it did. In this sense, the salmoriglio worked like a chimichurri, perfectly complementing the grilled meat. 

SALMORIGLIO

Recipe from Forager Chef

Ingredients:

• 1 cup packed flat leaf parsley, leaves only
• 1 cup packed fresh oregano leaves (or bee balm leaves)
• 1 large clove garlic
• 1/2 cup light olive oil
• 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
• 1/4 cup water
• 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
• Zest from one large lemon
• Kosher salt and pepper

Directions:

1. Prepare the oil and herbs. Mix the two oils together. Bring a quart of salted water to a boil. Add the parsley and cook for 5 seconds. Remove the parsley and refresh in cold water. Squeeze the parsley dry and reserve.

2. Prepare the sauce. Add the garlic, lemon juice, water, oregano, and parsley to a blender. Begin pureeing the mixture, drizzling the oils until the sauce is smooth and emulsified. Double check the seasoning for salt and pepper and then transfer the finished sauce to a container. Stir in the lemon zest and refrigerate. 

PEACE.

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Yemen

 "Don't worry about Yemen. Yemen started in peace, and it will end its revolution in peace, and it will start its new civil state in peace."

-- Tawakkol Karmon, Nobel Peace Laureate (2011)

The journalist, politician and human rights activist -- Tawakkol Karmon -- spoke those words fifteen years ago when she accepted the Nobel Peace Prize. She accepted the award in the midst of the Arab Spring, when masses rose up against dictatorial regimes across North Africa and the Middle East. One of those revolutions took place in Yemen. That revolution brought down then-President Ali Abullah Saleh, a military officer who served in that role since 1990. 

Yet, over the course of the following fifteen years, peace has proved elusive in Yemen. The country has become a battleground between different forces, political and religious, internal and external. Those battles have inflicted severe harm upon the over 40.6 million residents spread out from the Red Sea across the southern Arabian peninsula to the borders of neighboring Oman. Yet, at least in the West, much of that harm goes untold, as the media focuses more upon the offensives of the political and religious actors. We hear more about missiles being fired from Yemen or ships being seized in the Red Sea than we hear about the millions of Yemenis who face starvation or the lack of essential infrastructure for much of the population. The result is a damning story that talks more about violence and less about the people. 

"The People are Not the Same as Their Government."

One really has to dig deep to get past the narrative that has been built by the media over the years to learn more about the Yemeni people. I have never been to Yemen, although I have always read with fascination and viewed with wonder about the country, its residents and their achievements. For example, there is amazing mud brick architecture, such as the 16th century walled city of Shibham. The city has densely packed, mudbrick buildings that are several stories tall, which has led to the city being  often referred to as the "Manhattan of the desert." And there is the Seiyun Palace in the eastern region of Hadramut, which stands as the largest mud brick structure in the world.  

Another great resource (surprisingly enough) is YouTube, where one could watch videos posted by people who have been brave enough to travel to war-torn and troubled places. Many of those travelers go out of their way to learn about the people themselves. And, as traveler and storyteller Drew Binsky has noted, the Yemeni people are not the same as their government. His video can be watched here: 

I strongly recommend Drew's videos generally, because of his efforts to talk with the people of a country to learn more about their culture and cuisine. In his video about Yemen, Drew is honest about the difficulties Yemenis face, but he is equally honest about the Yemeni themselves. As Drew says in his video, "the people are not the same as their government." Yemeni's hospitality is warm, curious and genuine. Yemenis are quick to welcome people in, share food, and talk about themselves, their cuisine and their culture. 

"Yemeni cuisine is ... a cultural narrative woven into every dish."

Yemeni cuisine differs from the cuisine of Arabic cultures. The differences arise in part from Yemen's relative isolation from the broader Arabic world. The country lies at the southwestern end of the Arabic Peninsula. The Rub al Khali -- the "Empty Quarter" -- limits land routes to Yemen, leaving only those that trace along the coastline of the peninsula. Yet, Yemen has nearly 2,000 miles of coastline, as well we major ports like Aden, Hodeidah, Mukallah and Nishtun. Yemen's ports played an important role in the maritime history of the spice trade, welcoming foods and ingredients from Persia, India and as far away as Indonesia. 

Over time, these foods and ingredients, along with culinary practices, became interwoven with the indigenous ways of cooking. They helped to create a cuisine that sets itself apart from other Arabic cuisines. There is a diversity that, for example, blends Persian cooking methods and indigenous cooking ingredients, Turkish ingredients with local fish, and much more. It is a cuisine that focuses on slow cooking methods, with many herbs and spices (cardamom, caraway, cumin, fenugreek, saffron, and turmeric, just to name a few), and, of course, chiles. The dishes are often served communally, shared among family and friends. Once again, a practice reflective of Yemeni culture and hospitality. 

"Before I had everything to eat. Now, it's one bite."

The rich culinary history cannot be viewed in isolation from the present situation in Yemen. The toll of decades of war, both fueled internally and externally (by Saudi Arabia and the UAE), have created a situation where mass starvation has the people in its grips. In the good times, Yemen imported a substantial amount of its food (sometimes up to 90% of it); war makes such imports problematic. It also makes the delivery of food aid and other humanitarian aid very difficult. As a result, mass starvation threatens large numbers of Yemenis. The United Nations estimated that, as of June 2025, nearly 5 million Yemenis faced food insecurity, with nearly 1.5 million of those Yemenis facing emergency food security. To put it in context, that would be the same as the entire population of Dallas, Texas or San Diego, California facing emergency food insecurity. And those are just the numbers from the southern regions of Yemen. 

There are numerous reasons for food insecurity in Yemen. That discussion is best left to another post or perhaps another blog. (There is a lot of reporting about food insecurity in Yemen out there). The point here is that such insecurity is projected only going to get worse, as the violence -- but not humanitarian assistance -- continues. The U.S. Agency for International Development provided substantial assistance (as much as $1 billion in Fiscal Years 2019 and 2020) that helped to provide food, medical care, safe drinking water and more to Yemenis. With the Trump administration's closure of USAID, the ripple effects are felt across Yemen, such as, by way of example, the closure of malnutrition support services for Yemeni children, as well as pregnant and breastfeeding mothers. 

MAIN COURSE

Given this rich culinary history, and the ongoing food insecurity issues, this particular occasion is a challenge for me in more ways than one. On the one hand, there are a wide array of main dishes that could be the subject of this challenge. For example, there is mandi, which is considered Yemen's national dish. It consists of lamb or chicken, marinated in spices, and cooked in a tandoor. There is also maraq, which is a soup made with lamb, that often serves as a first dish but can be used to make salta, a stew that is also considered a national dish. On the other hand, there is the knowledge that millions of Yemenis are struggling to find that "one bite."

Lamb shanks before the marinade.

In the end, I decided to make Lamb Haneeth. It is a dish that originated in the Hadhraaut region, which is the area that Drew Binsky traveled when he was in Yemen. However, Lamb Haneeth is more than just a regional dish; it has deep roots in Yemeni culture and cuisine. Indeed, this dish has been described as "an expression of familial bonds, cultural continuity and the preservation of a culinary legacy that transcends time and borders." The word haneeth hints at that legacy, as it refers to slow-cooked meat, which is a cornerstone of Yemeni cuisine.

The dish is also served in a manner that is truly reflective of Yemeni culture. Lamb Haneeth is served "family style" or "communal style," on a large platter with rice to be shared by guests and family members. Such a dish makes the perfect challenge for me to prepare. 

LAMB HANEETH

Recipe from Every Little Crumb

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 bunch scallions
• 1 bunch chives
• 3 peeled garlic cloves
• 1 tablespoon cumin powder
• 1 tablespoon turmeric powder
• 1 tablespoon salt
• 1/2 tablespoon black pepper powder
• 3 cloves
• 4 whole cardamom pods
• 3 bay leaves
• 1/3 cup olive oil
• 1.5 tablespoons butter
• 2 dried lemons (optional)
• 4 lamb shanks or lamb pieces with bone (about 1.5 pounds)

Directions:

1. Prepare the marinade. Combine all the ingredients from the green onions through to the butter (everything but the dried lemon and the lamb) in a food processor or blender and process until well blended and has turned into a thick paste consistency. If you need to, add a splash of water if the sauce is so thick that it won't combine well. 

2. Marinate the lamb. Pour the green sauce over the lamb and toss to coat thoroughly, then cover tightly by placing a sheet of parchment paper on top of the lamb, then sealing with foil and marinade for as much time as you have, anywhere from four hours to overnight. 

3. Roast the lamb. Preheat the oven to 465 degrees Fahrenheit. Remove the shanks from the wrapper Place the shanks, covered with foil, on a foil covered pan in the oven for 1 hour. After 1 hour, reduce the temperature to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and cook for another 2 hours. Halfway through, toss the lamb, flipping the pieces over. When 30 minutes of cooking time remain, uncover the dish so the outside of the lamb crisps up a little.

4. Finish the dish. Serve with rice, preferably topped with toasted nuts and garnished with chopped cilantro.  

CONDIMENT

Shatta is a spicy hot sauce that often accompanies dishes in Yemen. It is not unique to Yemen, and, its culinary history can actually be traced to the Palestinian cuisine. The popularity of the hot sauce enabled it to transcend Palestine to reach tables in Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, Saudi Arabia and, of course, Yemen.

This condiment is typically prepared with long red chiles or jalapeno chiles. I did not have access to red chiles, so I went with jalapenos. The end result is not a fiery red hot sauce, but a deceptively hot green sauce (as I left as many of the seeds in as possible.)

SHATTA

Recipe from My Goodness Kitchen

Ingredients:

• 250 grams (1/2 pound) long red or jalapeno chiles
• 1 tablespoon salt, non-iodized
• 3 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
• 1 teaspoon lemon juice
• 3 tablespoons olive oil

Directions:

1. Prepare the pepper mixture. Slice the chiles into coin-wide rounds. Combine the sliced chiles with the salt and stir well. Transfer the salted chiles to the jar and pop the lid on. Place the jar in a cool, shady place for 3 days or transfer to the fridge for up to 7 days.

2. Finish the hot sauce. Drain the chiles through a colander or sieve and transfer them to a food process or mortar and pestle. Add the vinegar and lemon juice and process - or pound in the pestle - until you are happy with the texture. Transfer the chile paste back to its jar and pour in enough olive oil to cover it. Store in the fridge for up to six months. 

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In the end, the Lamb Haneeth was delicious and, when served with the shatta, it seemed to be truly reflective of Yemeni culture and cuisine. A land where it is hot (over half of Yemen is desert), but, like the people, warm and welcoming to those who are brave enough to make the trip there. This challenge was important to me, because it is important to highlight what does not get disseminated by the global media, and to put the focus where it belongs ... the Yemeni people. 

PEACE.