There are two atolls, consisting of more than two dozen coral islands, in the Indian Ocean that lie far from any major land mass. It is 1,683 kilometers (or 1,013 miles) from these islands to the nearest point in Australia (Exmouth). It is slightly shorter -- 1,270 kilometers (or 789 miles) from the islands to Indonesia (Jakarta). While not the most isolated places on Earth, these islands -- known as the Cocos Islands or the Keeling Islands -- are truly isolated.
The islands are formally a part of Australia, the result of the expansion of colonialism and the British empire, which formally annexed the islands in 1857. Yet, the inhabitants of the Cocos Islands have stronger cultural connections to southeastern Asia than anywhere in the United Kingdom or even Australia, which took control over the islands after a transfer of power from the U.K. in 1955. And, it is this connection that I wanted to explore, to learn more about the people and their cuisine.
The history of the people, known as the Cocos Malay, goes back to at least 1825, when they were brought to the islands by a British trader, Alexander Hare. Soon thereafter, another British trader, John Clunies-Ross, took control of the island. Clunies Ross forced the slaves and indentured servants to work on coconut plantations to produce copra, the dried white flesh of the coconut. The workers all toiled for the Clunies-Ross family under a basically feudal system for generations. The system ended in the late 1970s, when Australia forced the family to sell the islands to the government. The coconut and copra production was taken over by the Cocos Islands Cooperative Society, LTD., but ultimately ceased in the late 1980s.
The Cocos Malay people.
The Cocos Malay -- who number about 600 -- are predominantly Malay in ancestry, but their ancestors were brought in from not just British Malaya (now Malaysia and Singapore), but also the Dutch East Indies (now Indonesia), New Guinea (now Papua New Guinea), Ceylon (now Sri Lanka), and even as far away as South Africa. The Cocos Malay are united by their language, a distinct dialect known as Basa Pulu Kokosand their Muslim religion.
Drawing from that heritage, the cuisine of the Coco Malay draws its influences from Malaysian, Indonesian and Sri Lankan cuisines. Yet, the Cocos Malay cuisine is distinct. There are dishes such as vegetarian rice noodles, sweet and sour fish, and ayam payang (chili chicken).
This particular recipe reflects the Indonesian influences upon Cocos Malay cooking. The dish, nasi goreng, is the Indonesian version of Chinese fried rice. As the story goes, Chinese traders and migrants brought the dish to the East Indies, where the locals made it their own. The recipe serves an very good purpose, as it was a way to make use of leftover rice and other ingredients. In fact, the best rice to use is day-old rice, as its drier texture makes it easier to fry.
Just as the Indonesian people took fried rice and made it their own through nasi goreng, the Cocos Malay have taken nasi goreng and, in turn, made it their own. However, given the Cocos Islands are relatively isolated, if it does not come from the sea or could be cultivated from small personal gardens, then it is to be imported. There is one exception ... the coconut. And it is coconut flakes that help the Cocos Malays make the nasi goreng their own.
1. Saute the garlic and onion. Heat the oil and saute the garlic with the onion, shallots, and Sambal. When fragrant, add the rice and mix well. Add the soy sauce and Maggie powder. Stir until well incorporated, then add the mustard greens, coconut, and sliced chiles.
2. Finish the dish. Drizzle a little sesame oil over the rice and serve with shredded chicken.
Tibet and the Tibetan people can trace their history back to 604 C.E. That history alternated between long periods of independence and periods of occupation. For nearly 75 years, Tibetans have experienced the latter, with Tibet -- or as it is currently known, the Tibet Autonomous Region, -- has been under the control of the People's Republic of China ("PRC").
Chinese control over Tibet has not been very easy to maintain. When the Chinese formally annexed Tibet in 1951, the communists claimed a territory and a people who had significiant cultural and social differences. At first blush, the traditional Tibetan society and economy, which was more feudal in nature, was exactly the type of system that the communists sought to eradicate. However, the Chinese communists granted autonomy to the Tibetans, allowing their culture, society and economy to continue, albeit with the presence of twenty thousand communist soldiers in the area.
There were reasons for such autonomy. China faced a huge problem: namely, there were no roads connecting Tibet with mainland China. Resupplies required pack animals and long treks over the mountains. Thus, the Chinese soldiers stationed in Tibet were completely dependent upon the Tibetans for food. One interesting story to emerge out of that time period involved hungry Chinese soldiers. They knew very little about Tibetan cuisine, and, when they saw tsampa(roasted barley flour), they tried to relate it to something they were familiar with, such as rice or wheat. Yet, when the Chinese soldiers ate tsampa, they choked and gagged on the roasted flour.
Finely ground roasted barley, also known as Tsampa.
As an aside, I have previously walked the "Tsampa Path," exploring the cultivation of barley in Tibet, as well as the preparation of the ground flour. It was part of my effort to be more mindful of my cooking, which, in part, involved an effort to incorporate Buddhist principles in what I prepared. I even established my own practice of eating tsampaevery morning, although it has been hard to keep up.
Returning to the story, the roasted barley flour quickly became a symbol of Tibetan identity. It emerged as a culinary distinction that separated the Tibetans from the Han Chinese (who are the majority ethnic group in the People's Republic of China). This distinction, in turn, became a rallying cry to unite Tibetans in the years after the Chinese annexation of their homeland. In 1952, the year after the formal annexation of Tibet by China, the editor of the Tibetan language newspaper The Tibet Mirror, Dorje Tharchin Babu (a staunch anti-communist) wrote a letter to his fellow Tibetans:
We, the tsampa eaters, chuba wearers, dice players, raw and dry meat eaters, followers of Buddhism, Tibetan language speakers, the people from the Three Circuits of Ngari (Ngari Korsum), Four Hours of Central Tibet (U-Tsang Ru-Zhi), Six Ranges of Eastern Tibet (Dokham Gangdrug) and the Thirteen Myiarchies of Tibet (Bod Trik-khor Chuksum) we must make an effort to end the [Chinese] occupation.
Thus, to be Tibetan is to be a tsampa-eater, or po mi tsmasey. And, a few years later in 1956, The Tibetan Mirrorcalled upon "tsampa-eaters" to "unite their minds" and "stand up." Tibetans eventually stood up in the 1959 uprising; however, the Chinese communists won that battle. In its aftermath, the Chinese government cracked down on Tibetan society. The autonomy was gone, the communist policies would be formally (and brutally) imposed upon Tibet as they were elsewhere around the country.
While many Tibetans lost their lives in 1959, along with their autonomy, their collective identity survived. The Tibetans residing in the Tibetan Autonomous Region held onto their culture, and their cuisine, especially barley, even while the newly arrived Han Chinese settled in the region, bringing their preference for rice or wheat. Uprisings would erupt from time to time, but the Chinese hold over the Tibetan Autonomous Region remained firm.
In 2008, the tsampa-eater identity re-emerged as protests commenced again, this time with 300-400 Buddhist monks from the Drepung Monastery marching for religious freedom. They were met with violence by Chinese police, who arrested 60 of the monks. The next day, another 300-400 Buddhist monks from the Sera monastery when to march for the release of their brothers. They too encountered police violence, and more were arrested. A few days later, more monks tried to protest, but they were blocked from leaving their monastery. Violence erupted, that led to burning and destruction of buildings and stores owned and operated by Han and Hui (eastern-Asian Muslims). The calls evolved from the release of imprisoned monks to the independence of Tibet and its people. The response was yet another crackdown.
But, Chinese crackdowns could not break the Tibetan identity. In the following years, such as 2009, Tibetan monks called upon "tsampa eaters" to "rise up." Tsampa itself became part of the protest, with protestors eating tsampa and throwing the ground barley flour into the air during demonstrations. In 2012, tsampa eating made its way into rap, as NPR noted in an article back in 2019. A Tibetan rapper named Shapaley wrote a song and produced a music video about Tsampa and the Tibetan identity. The video is below:
The music is very catchy, and the lyrics sum up the centrality of tsampa in the Tibetan identity better than I have done in this entire post. (That is almost always the case when someone discusses their own experiences, as opposed to another trying to recount them.) While I may not be a Tibetan, I am a tsampa-eater in solidarity with them.
I am happy to say that my tsampa eating now includes Tsam-Thuk, a Tibetan soup recipe. Tsampa plays and important role as a thickener. The preparation begins with the ground barley flour being mixed with bone broth or beef broth to create smooth base, which is then made into the consistency of soup with more broth. The additional ingredients include onions, radishes and beef, which is found in versions made in Tibet's capital, Lhasa (as rural versions are prepared with yak meat). The soup is then finished with baby spinach and melted butter. I decided I wanted a soup with a thicker consistency, so I only used 2 cups of water (in actuality, I just used the rest of the beef broth, to avoid any waste). The end result is a very delicious and hearty soup (which one needs when they live at the altitudes of Tibet).
TSAM-THUK (TSAMPA SOUP)
Recipe from Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Daguid,
Beyond the Great Wall, pg. 47
Ingredients:
1.25 cups of Tsampa (or substitute 1 cup barley flour dry roasted in a skillet until golden)
1/4 pound daikon radish (about 1/2 small radish)
6 cups of Tibetan bone broth (or substitute beef broth or chicken broth)
2 tablespoons peanut oil, vegetable oil, or butter
1/2 medium onion, thinly sliced
1/2 pound to 3/4 pound boneless beef round or sirloin steak, cut into strips about 1.5 to 2 inches long and 1/4 inch wide
2-3 cups water
1.5 to 2 cups baby spinach leaves or coarsely chopped regular spinach
2 tablespoons butter
Directions:
1. Prepare the ingredients. To make sure that the tsampa or roasted flour is fine enough, pass it through a fine sieve. Set aside. Peel the daikon radish, then grate it on a coarse greater into long strands.
2. Prepare the broth. Pour 3 cups of the broth into a heavy pot (4 quarts is a good size) and bring to a boil. Add the tsampa or roasted flour and stir until smooth. Add the remaining 3 cups of broth and bring to a boil. Add the radish strands and simmer until tender, about 10 minutes.
3. Prepare the other ingredients. Meanwhile, heat the oil or butter in a heavy skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and sauté gently for several minutes. Add the meat strips and 1/2 teaspoon salt, raise the heat to medium high and cook turning once, until just the beef has changed color, about 3 minutes. Use tongs to lift out the meat and set it aside on a plate. Add the onion and oil or butter to the soup.
4. Deglaze the pan. To deglaze the skillet, place the pan over high heat and add a cup of water and bring to a boil. Scrape the bottom of the pan with a spatula to detach any browned bits or caramelized juices, then add the flavored water to the soup. (The recipe can be prepared ahead to this point and set aside for up to 1 hour. Or let cool, refrigerate for up to 36 hours. Bring the soup to a simmer before proceeding.)
5. Finish the dish. Add 1 cup more of water to the soup and bring back to a simmer. Add the meat and bring back to a simmer. Add extra water if you wish a thinner broth. Taste for salt and add up to 2 more teaspoons if necessary. Add the spinach leaves to the simmering broth. When they turn bright green, after a minute or two, add the butter and stir to blend it in. Serve the soup hot in large bowls with bread, or with rice if you prefer.
"We will be known forever by the tracks we leave."
-- Words of wisdom from the Dakota People
Thanksgiving is supposed to be a day in which we give thanks for all of our blessings over the past year. The holiday draws inspiration from events, partly historical and partly fictional, that transpired in the fall of 1621. The pilgrims of the Plymouth colony (that is, white colonizers) organized a feast to celebrate their successful harvest, giving thanks for the cultivation of food that would support them through the winter.
That's where the history ends and much of the fiction begins. Subsequent generations would be taught that the feast was one shared by grateful pilgrims and their neighbors, the indigenous Wampanoag people. That is not entirely accurate. The feast was initially a white person, pilgrim/colonizer affair, because they did not initially invite the Wampanoag to the feast. Rather, the Wampanoag arrived after hearing gunshots fired off by celebratory pilgrims, thinking that the pilgrims were under an attack. Only after they arrived were the indigenous people allowed to stay and join in the feast.
Thanksgiving was, and continues to be, built upon a myth of celebration and cooperation between white colonists and the indigenous people. The actual history -- over four hundred years of it -- defined what would become the United States. That definition includes the forced displacement and death of a majority of the indigenous people, removed from the land upon which their ancestors built not only comunities but also entire cultures and societies. Much of those civilizations have been lost, as the United States established itself, and expanded itself, at the expense of the indigenous peoples, nation after nation.
Those are the tracks that we have left as a country and as "the American people." It is a path hardly discussed because holidays like Thanksgiving have us looking anywhere but down at our feet. So, for this particular Thanksgiving in 2025, I thought I would do something other than express gratitude for my blessings. I am looking down at my feet, at the ground.
The particular context of my feast unfolded in the city of Crisfield, Maryland, where my beautiful Angel and my wonderful family took a short trip during the holiday weekend. I found a lovely house in Crisfield, Maryland (more about that in another post), where I would prepare our holiday feast with help from our family. The city of Crisfield lies on a peninsula that was originally the home of the Annamessex people, who, in turn, were part of the Pocomoke Paramountcy. As an aside, the colonizers who reached this penninsula referred to it as the "Annamessex Neck."
It is difficult to find much about the Annamessex people, but there is more out there about the greater Pocomoke nation. That nation stretched across the eastern shore, particularly along the Annamessex, Manokin, and Pocomoke rivers. They were organized into communities, with women and younger children growing corn, beans and squashes, while men and older boys hunted, trapped and fished. The Pocomoke were also traders, producing wampum, which are the shell beads and belts, and peake, which are darker beads made from clams. In addition to trading wampum and peake, the Pocomoke also crafted dug-out canoes that they used for transport and trade.
As European colonizers settled in Annamessex Neck, the indigenous people were driven from their lands. The colonizers claimed the territory, refused to allow indigenous people to hunt on the land, and, with the assistance of the local and state governments, forced the Annamessex onto a reservation located at Askiminokonson, near present day Snow Hill, Maryland. Eventually, the white colonizers claimed that territory, leaving the Annamessex, along with the greater Pocomoke nation, with nothing.
I have been unable to locate any Annamessex or even Pocomoke recipes for a turkey. This particular roast turkey recipe comes from Sean Sherman, an Ogala Lakota chef who has made it his mission to preserve and advance indigenous cuisine. He focuses upon both the ingredients and cooking processes used by indigenous cooks across Turtle Island. (I also used his recipe for wojape to serve alongside the turkey).
I have to admit that I had some concerns, because the recipe did not call for a stuffing. I have always prepared roast turkeys with stuffings, using the latter to help regulate temperatures and add flavors to the meat. Fearful that I would overcook the bird without a stuffing, I decided to utilize a stuffing from Renewing America's Food Traditons, a book written by Gary Paul Nabhan. A first-generation Lebanese-American, Nabhan is an Agricutural Ecologist, Ethnobiologist, and Franciscan brother. He has worked with indigenous peoples, particularly in the southwestern United States and Mexico to preserve their foodways and advocate for their sovereignty. This particular stuffing comes from the opposite side of the United States, with a recipe offered in connection with a discussion of the endangered Naragannsett Turkey. The stuffing is not a traditional one that would be served alongside the bird. Instead, it consists of ingredients intended to provide additonal flavors to the meat.
With these recipes in hand, I proceeded with Chef Sherman's Roast Turkey, Wild Onions and Maple Squash recipe. The overall dish provided a great example of indigenous foods could be prepared by indigenous peoples like the Annamessex. Wild turkeys are found across the State of Maryland; and, as noted above, the Annamessex cultivated squash. They could have easily gathered wild onions from around their village, along with other ingredients, such as juniper berries, which could have been gathered from the eastern red cedar trees or perhaps the common juniper (before it went locally extinct in the State of Maryland).
In sum, this dish and my heart is with honoring those who were originally present and thriving here, long before any Spanish explorer or English colonizer ever set foot on dry land in this hemisphere. I also want to acknowledge the tracks that have been left over the centuries, and, for what that means when it comes to the United States. Our greatness (if it can be called that) came with a tremendous cost, a price not paid by those who benefitted the most, year after year, decade after decade, generation after generation. If we want to truly be known as a great country (however that could be defined), then that requires us to come to terms with our past. Otherwise, we can never truly achieve greatness as a country.
ROAST TURKEY, WILD ONIONS AND MAPLE SQUASH
Recipe from Sean Sherman, The Sioux Chef's Indigenous Kitchen, pg. 107
Additional cavity stuffing recipe from Gary Paul Nabhan, Renewing America's Food Traditions, pg. 125
Serves 8
Ingredients (for the roast turkey):
1 small turkey (about 10-12 pounds)
1/4 cup hazelnut oil
2 tablespoons chopped sage
Coarse salt
Crushed juniper
2 cups corn, wild rice, or turkey stock
4 wild onions or 2 large onions, quartered
1 cup wild mushrooms, chopped
2 cups winter squash, cubed
1/4 cup maple syrup
Ingredients (for the cavity stuffing):
2 tablespoon sea salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon dried marjoram or sweet basil leaves
1/4 cup finely chopped flat-leaf parsley
1/2 cup whole wheat bread crumbs
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1/4 cup chopped celery stalks
1 small white onion, chopped
Directions:
1. Prepare the turkey. One hour before roasting, remove the turkey from the refrigerator and bring to room temperature. In a blender, puree the hazelnut oil and sage and rub over the turkey. Season with salt and juniper.
2. Prepare the cavity. Rub the cavity with a mixture of 1 tablespoon of salt, 1/2 teaspoon of pepper, all of the basil or marjoram, and some of the chopped parsley. Combine the bread crumbs, lump of butter (mixed with salt and pepper), the rest of the parsley, chopped celery and onion. Stuff the mixture into the cavities of the turkey.
3. Roast the turkey. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees Fahrenheit. Place the turkey in a roasting pan, add the stock and put in the oven. Roast until the turkey is a light golden brown, about 45 minutes. Reduce the oven temperature to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and continue roasting. After about 1 1/2 hours, scatter the onions, mushrooms and squash into the roasting pan and baste the turkey and vegetables occasionally with the pan juices. Continue cooking until the an instant-read thermometer inserted into the thigh reads 160 degrees Fahrenheit, about 30 minutes to 1 hour longer. Brush the turkey with the maple syrup.
4. Finish the dish. Remove the turkey from the oven and transfer to a cutting board. Arrange the vegetables on a platter. Carve the turkey and arrange over the vegetables. Drizzle the pan juices over all. Serve with wild rice and cranberry sauce or wojape.
One of my favorite cookbooks is Beyond the Great Wall, a book written by Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid. Both Alford and Duguid explore Chinese cuisine, but not the typical cuisine that most people know and eat. Instead, they explore the cuisines of the many minorities who live throughout China. One of those minorities is the Tibetans, whose cuisine I too have expllored from time to time.
Alford and Duguid provide several Tibetan recipes in their cookbook. However, this particular recipe -- Tenzin's Quick-Pickled Radish Threads -- caught my attention. It may have been the reference to Tenzin, as I was watching The Legend of Korra at the time. (The show has a character named Tenzin.) It may have also been the pickled radish threads.
Radishes -- or labu as they are referred to in Tibetan -- are grown on the Tibetan plateau. Tibetan cooks use radishes in a variety of dishes, such as stews like Labsa and soups like Thukpa.
But the root vegetable has a very special place on the Tibetan table, as a condiment. It's known as Son Labu or Son Labhu. The Tibetans use large, long white radishes, which resemble the daikon radish. Typically, the radish is thinly sliced, combined with other ingredients (which, as with many recipes, depends upon the cook), and then submerged in rice wine vinegar for the pickle.
The picked radish recipe found in Beyond the Great Wall differs in that it calls for grating the radish, rather than slicing it. The recipe also caught my attention for another reason: namely, the use of Sichuan peppercorns. I have used this ingredient in the past, such as to make Togarashi, Jioma Jipian, and Qiatou Yi Nen. The numbing properties of the peppercorns adds an unusual experience with dishes, which is something that I like when I am cooking and eating. The recipe calls not only for the use of Sichuan peppercorns, but also onions, scallions, garlic and ginger, all of which provide additional flavors to the pickled radish threads.
Son Labu is an interplay between spicy, sour and salty. As with radishes generally, this condiment can be eaten by itself as a little snack or added to dishes, like a cold noodle soup or a stir fry beef.
Finally, this particular quick-picked radish thread recipe comes with a story from Alford and Duguid about a Tibetan named Tenzin, who prepared this recipe for the authors. For that story, you will need to buy the book.
QUICK PICKLED RADISH THREADS (SON LABU)
Recipe from James Alford and Naomi Daguid, Beyond the Great Wall at pg. 25
Ingredients:
1 pound daikon radish, peeled and coarsely grated or thinly sliced
1. Prepare the radish. Place the radish, scallions, onions and ginger in a large bowl and toss to mix them well. Stuff half of the mixture in a sterilized 4 quart jar and add 1 tablespoon of the salt and garlic and/or Sichuan peppercorn if you wish. Add the remaining radish mixture and the second tablespoon of salt and pour on the vinegar, which should cover the mixture completely. Seal and shake the jar to distribute the vinegar well.
2. Store the jar. Place in a sunny spot by the window for 2 to 4 days, giving the jar a shake occasionally to help blend the flavors. It is now ready to use. The pickle will keep indefinitely if well sealed and refrigerated.
3. Finish the dish. To serve, use a clean spoon or fork or chopsticks to lift out a clump of radish strands and place them in a condiment bowl.
"The extent to which you can walk in someone else's shoes or at least eat their food, it's a plus for everyone."
-- Anthony Bourdain
Although I have always been fascinated by other countries and other cultures, in many respects, Anthony Bourdain has been the one to introduce me to someone else's food. Whether it was No Reservations or Parts Unknown, I would watch intently as Bourdain traveled around the world and communed with people at a table eating food. It is one of the most basic ways to achieve a mutual understanding.
One of the many places that Anthony visited was Basque country, a region that straddles both Spain and France. It was a place that returned to again and again. The reason, as he described it, was "my love for the Basque, for Basque culture, for my Basque friends, is absolute." If a region, its people and its culture can strike a feeling like that in Anthony Bourdain, then an exploration is a must.
I have previously prepared dishes from Basque country, but mostly focusing on that part that lies within Spain. I wanted to cross the border into France, to learn more about the Basque who live in that country. Anthony Bourdain's recipe for Poulet Basquaise provided that opportunity.
The dish, Poulet Basquaise, is said to have originated from the Soule province of southwestern France, which is deep in the Basque country. The original recipe called for creating a sauce from bread and vegetables; however, it evolved over time to require the use of a piperade, which is base of tomato, onion and bell pepper. The dish also features the espellete, a pepper grown in the region (but which can be hard to find elsewhere). While the use of espellete is a must in Basque cooking, adequate substitutes include paprika or, if you would like a little more heat, Aleppo pepper. The Basque are also known for their wines, which can sometimes be hard to find as well. If you cannot find a Basque white wine, an adequate substitute is Picpoul de Pinet, a wine that comes from the neighboring French region of Languedoc. (I used that wine because it is more available and, as an added bonus, reasonably priced.)
When one prepares a dish like this, it transports them to a kitchen of a house in a small village in Soule. A dish that brings together local produce, a chicken from a nearby farm or market, some wine in the house, and herbs from the garden to produce a dish that would be the centerpiece of the family dinner. Basque cuisine features heavily local ingredients, influenced by French cuisine more than Spanish cuisine. It evolved over time, as evidenced by the tomatoes and peppers in the piperade. But, just as French cuisine has influenced Basque cuisine, the reverse is also true, as this particular dish is not just popular in Basque country, but in other areas of France as well.
The exploration will continue, both in Basque country and elsewhere. Stay tuned....
1/2 cub chicken bouillon or 1/2 cup light chicken broth or stock
3 sprigs of flat parsley, finely chopped
Rice pilaf, for serving
Directions:
1. Prepare the chicken. Season the chicken all over with salt, pepper and the cayenne pepper. Heat the oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium high heat, about 2 minutes. When the oil is hot, add the butter. When the butter has melted and the foam has subsided, add the chickens, skin side down and brown on that side only, about 5 minutes. Remove the chicken and set aside on the plate.
2. Saute the vegetables. Add the peppers and onion to the pot and reduce the heat to medium low. Cook for about 10 minutes, then add the tomatoes and cook until the liquid is reduced by half. Stir in the wine, scraping to get up the good stuff. Cook until the wine is reduced by half, then add the water and bouillon cube or broth. Return the chicken to the pot, making sure to add all the juices on the plate. Cover the pot and simmer on low heat for about 25 minutes.
3. Finish the dish. Transfer the chicken to a platter. Crank up the heat to high and boil the sauce until it has thickened and reduced, about 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper and add the parsley. Pour the sauce over the chicken and serve with rice pilaf.
Basque cuisine gave us the "pintxos." Small plates adorned with tasty foods often served skewered with a toothpick, and served with bread, that could be found in most any tavern across northeastern Spain (also known as Basque country).
The history of these little dishes goes back more than 100 years, recounted well by Martin Buckley in a book called Basque Country and by a profile of the author and the book in the Independent. It was a time when food was scarce but comraderie was in abundant supply. Back in the 1920s, the social custom at the time was to drink outside of the house. People would go from bar to bar, socializing with their family and friends. By the 1940s, this practice of going from tavern to tavern with a group of friends, known as a kuadrilla, became well established. The kuadrilla is a closely-knit group formed of friends from early childhood. Its bonds are tightly formed over time, and often closed to outsiders, allowing those within the group to truly be themselves.
Yet, as those kuadrillas moved from bar to bar, they did so during difficult times. With the Spanish Civil War, scarcity set in. While there was plenty to drink, food was scarce. As the kuadrillak drank glass after glass of wine (some of which was smuggled in from France), the tavern owners would place small plates of food on the bar. Those small plates are the origin of pintxos (which is Basque for "to pierce"), althought the name did not catch on until a couple of decades later.
This particular pintxos is simple to make, although a little more difficult to plate. The combination of onions, shallots and garlic go well together (obviously), but they make a rather unstable base for the soft mushrooms. Fortunately, the toothpicks keep everything in place at least until they are eaten. As someone who enjoys Spanish tapas, as well as Basque pintxos generally, I think this is a start on a path to furhter exploration of these small plates.
1. Prepare the ingredients. Clean mushrooms by wipiong with a dry cloth or paper towel, discard stems. Dice onions, shallots, garlic. You can finely dice or rough chop.
2. Saute the onions, shallots and garlic. Add olive oil to a pan and heat on medium-high heat. Add onions and and shallots. Add onions and shallots to pan. Saute to soften, about 6 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking and over browning. When onions and shallots are soft, add garlic and cook until fragrant, about 1 minute.
3. Cook the mushrooms. Sprinkle flour over ingredents, stir to combine well. Place mushroom caps in pan, add wine, stir to combine well and place lid on pan. Reduce heat to simmer and reduce the sauce until thick and the mushrooms cook and reduce in size, about 10 minutes. Stir to prevent sticking or burning and rotate mushrooms a few time while cooking. The sauce should thicken and the mushrooms soften, but they should not brown too much.
4. Finish the dish. While the mushrooms cook down, slice baguette and drizzle with olive oil. Heat oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit. Bake for 8-10 minutes, until light lightly browned and crispy. When the mushrooms are softened and the sauce has thickened, use toothpick to skewer two mushroom caps onto the bread. Sppon sauce over the top.
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.
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.
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.
This post, and its recipe, have their purposes. I have devoted my personal culinary blog to exploring the cuisines and cultures from around the world. I often find myself conflicted in writing posts about food and recipes, especially when the people about whom I am writing face deprivation and starvation. That has certainly been the case when I prepare Palestinian recipes and write about their cuisine. Indeed, as of December 2023, the 2.3 million Palestinians living in Gaza constituted eighty percent (80%) of the the people in the world who were experiencing famine or extreme hunger. How can I write about Palestinian cuisine and food when millions have been relegated to eating not only canned food, but expired canned food?
The answer is two-fold: first, to honor the culture and dignity of Palestinians who live in Gaza and the West Bank; and, second, to protest the reasons why Palestinians are being forcibly starved. Those are the purposes of this post: namely, to take what is a very simple recipe to prepare and use it to protest against the governments and militaries that are waging campaigns that use deprivation and starvation as critical components of their strategies.
I have previously posted about the Palestinians, their culture and cuisine. I started with Zibdiyet Gambari, a spicy shrimp dish that came with a focus on the ties between Gazans, fishing and the sea. I turned inland to make Gazan Dagga, a salsa that combines chiles with dill and that included a discussion of the ties between Gazans and their land, especially when it came to agriculture. I concluded with Qidreh, an amazing lamb and rice dish that accompanied a discussion of the assault upon the Palestinian people and their culture.
All of those posts were my reaction to the inhuman, unethical and immoral campaign being waged by the far-right government of Israel against the Palestinian people. I had seen and heard too many people talk about how Hamas uses innocent civilians as human shields. That is a war crime. But I also saw and heard how the Israeli defense forces and the Israeli government - under the leadership of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, Defense Minister Yoav Gallant and National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir - simply directed their campaign at and through those human shields, rather than trying to wage their war against Hamas in a way that minimized the impact upon innocent Palestinian civilians. I firmly believe that those government officials should be indicted, hauled to The Hague, and stand trial for violations of international law.
To make matters worse, famine has both short term and long term consequences. Some of those long term consequences can impact future generations of Gazans. Study after study has shown that famine can cause increased risk of hyperglycemia (a condition most commonly associated with diabetes) not only in the current generation, but also the next generation. That next generation has a greater risk of developing diabetes, obesity and cardiovascular issues. Thus, in a real sense, Israel's use of starvation in its war against Hamas targets not only innocent Palestinians currently living in Gaza, but future generations of Palestinians.
This simple dish of tomatoes, chiles, garlic and sumac symbolizes what has been taken away from Gazans: the ability to obtain fresh ingredients, the opportunity to prepare a simple dish, and the necessity of being able to feed themselves to survive. Enough is enough. There must be a permanent cease-fire, accompanied by a restoration to the Palestinians what is rightfully theirs in Gaza and the West Bank, and an opening of the borders to allow humanitarian aid to reach those in need.
TOMATO, GARLIC AND SUMAC SALAD
Recipe from Reem Kassis, The Palestinian Table, at 99
Serves 4-6
Ingredients (for the salad):
1 pound tomatoes, seasonal or heirloom tomatoes, sliced into 1/2 inch thick rounds
2 green chiles, seeded and finely chopped
3-4 sprigs of fresh mint, stems removed, and leaves coarsely chopped
Flaked sea salt
1/2 teaspoon sumac
Ingredients (for the dressing):
2 cloves garlic, crushed
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons lemon juice
Directions:
1. Prepare the tomatoes: Arrange the tomato slices in a pretty serving platter or plate.
2. Prepare the dressing. Put the ingredients for the dressing in a small bowl and whisk until well combined, then spoon over the tomatoes.
3. Finish the dish. Sprinkle the tomatoes with flaked sea salt, then top the chopped green chiles and mint leaves and sprinkler with sumac. Serve immediately.
The Mapuche have a very interesting history, and, until very recently, it was one about which I knew very little. While I have been going out of my way to learn more about indigenous cultures, both generally and through this blog, I have to admit that my focus has largely been trained on North America, only occasionally diverting itself into Central America or the Caribbean. I had never really spent any time focused upon the indigenous people of South America. And, now I realize, that has left me with an incomplete picture of history before colonization and exploitation.
The Mapuche have lived in a region in the central part of present day central Chile, as well as part of western Argentina, for centuries. They are a proud people, who resisted colonization by the Spanish, even to the point of having their own independent society until well into the nineteenth century. That ended when the Chilean army, as well as the Argentinian army, invaded and occupied the Mapuche lands. While improvements seemed to be on the horizon during the Salvador Allende administration, which passed the Indigenous Law recognizing the Mapuche people, all of that came to a screeching halt under the dictatorship of General Augusto Pinochet. A once-independent proud people were reduced to what most indigenous nations face today: severe poverty, rampant discrimination, and a threatened identity.
Yet, the culture continues, both within the Mapuche themselves and those who want to learn more about them. I fall in the latter category, as I was looking for recipes for a rather sizeable cut of picanha or top sirloin cap. My search led me down well trodden pathways, usually ending with recipes that involved the preparation of a chimichurri. Those pathways are well trodden for a reason: chimichurri is the go-to condiment for grilled meats in Brazil, Argentina and Chile. I wanted to do something different, and I wanted to take a path less taken. That led me to the Mapuche and to Merken.
Merken is a ground chile mix prepared by the Mapuche. The traditional preparation involves a particular chile: the goat horn chile or cacho de cabra. The chiles are first smoked and then dried. Thereafter, they are ground to a powder, producing one of two spice mixes. There is Merken Natural, which consists of the ground chiles and salt. Then there is Merken Especial, which includes not only the ground chiles and salt, but also toasted, ground coriander seeds. The preparation of the especial is rather exact in its proportions: 70% ground chile, 20% ground salt and 10% ground toasted coriander seed.
Both preparations have an important role in Mapuche cuisine. They are used not only in rubs or marinades for grilled meats (which is my intended use), but also for soups and stews. Merken is basically that spice mix or condiment that is used much in the way cooks would use black pepper or cayenne pepper to season a dish.
Finally, cacho de cabra may not be available everywhere. (It certainly was not available where I live.) I looked for suitable alternatives, which may include the aji pepper from Peru or even the Hatch chile from New Mexico. However, the key to merken is that the chile is smoked. That step is important because it imparts particular aromatic and taste elements. Not any dried chile can recreate those elements completely. For that reason, I went with an ancho chile pepper. Ancho chiles are sometimes dried with the use of smoke and are known for contributing smoke elements to dishes. If you have dried chipotle peppers, those would work well too. If you wanted to balance out the smoke, perhaps use a mix of dried ancho (or chipotle peppers) and dried guajillo or hatch chiles.
In the end, I can say that this particular chile spice mix is incredible; and, I can only imagine what it would be like if I actually had cacho de cabra chiles on hand. This recipe - and this post - represent a first step in learning more about the Mapuche, both their culture and their cuisine. Who knows where the next step will take me.
8.5 teaspoons dried seeded cacho de cabra pepper flakes
2.5 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon coriander seeds
Directions:
1. Prepare the ingredients. If the peppers are leathery, they will need to be crisped. Place them on a baking sheet and put them in a 350 degree Fahrenheit oven. Immediately turn off the heat and let the peppers sit in the oven a few minutes. Remove the peppers from the oven and let them cool on the baking sheet. Toast the coriander seeds in a dry skillet until fragrant.
2. Prepare the mixture. Grind the salt and coriander seed together in a spice mill or coffee grinder until fairly finely textured. Crumble the peppers into the mill and grind the mixture to whatever consistency you desire.
Many recipes have a history; and, for this leg of lamb recipe, that history can be traced to the fourth century B.C.E. Alexander III of Macedon -- known as "Alexander the Great" -- was leading his armies on a path eastward into what was known then as Bactria. The region was well established along the Silk Road in an area that is divided amongst common-day Afghanistan, Pakistan and Tajikistan. While history confirms Alexander's conquest of the mountainous region in which Bactria could be found, what comes next is the subject of some dispute.
As one story goes, it was 327 B.C.E. when Alexander the Great had just conquered the Hindu Kush, a mountainous region that could have been the southern part of Bactria. Basking in the victory, Alexander married Roxane, the daughter of Oxyartes. The centerpiece of the wedding feast was known as Sikandari Raan or Alexander Raan. Alexander would go on to appoint Oxyartes to serve as the governor of Bactria.
Another story paints a different picture: Alexander the Great sent his army into the Battle of Hydaspes in 326 B.C.E. The battle took place along the Jhelum River in what would become northeastern Pakistan. By the end of the battle, Alexander's forces had captured the local king, Porus. Alexander asked Porus how he would like to be treated; and, the defeated monarch replied "treat me like a King would treat another King." Alexander the Great released Porus and the two became friends. A feast was held to celebrate the friendship. The centerpiece of that feast was a leg of lamb.
The true story, along with the recipe for that leg of lamb, are lost to history. Nevertheless, the centerpiece of the feast is still known as Sikandari Raan. And, unlike any conqueror or king, this leg of lamb recipe lives on today as the focal point of many celebratory meals.
I prepared raan for my own little celebration, namely, by birthday. I chose to prepare a Kashmiri-style raan, because I thought that this meal is reflective of Kashmiri cuisine. This cuisine is perhaps the most meat-centric of all the subcontinent cuisines, as Kashmiris eat more meat -- mainly lamb and mutton -- than in any other region of Pakistan or India. This aspect of their diet corresponds to the importance of livestock itself, as there is a long history of nomadic herders raising sheep in the region's valleys. While Kashmiri cuisine may be heavy on the meat, it is much leaner when it comes to the use of spices in recipes. Commonly used spices include chile powder, ginger powder, saffron, aniseed, and asafetida.
Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of Kashmiri cuisine is the distinction between Muslim and Pandit (Hindu). This distinction mostly revolves around the ingredients used to prepare the dishes. On the one hand, Muslim Kashmiris use onion, garlic and tomatoes in their preparations, while the Hindu Pandits do not. Another difference lies with the protein, as Muslims tend to use more lamb and mutton, while the Pandits use goat or chevron more in their dishes.
This Kashmiri-style raan is clearly inspired by the Muslim preparations, as it incorporates not only lamb, but also onions in the recipe. It also follows the traditional preparation, which incorporates two marinades. The first marinade is a dry rub, which is first applied to the leg of lamb. The second marinade is a wet rub, a combination of Greek yogurt and even more spices). Some recipes combine the two marinades together, but the Kashmiri-style raan recipe that I found retained this two-step approach.
Apart from the time it takes to prepare the lamb, this is a very easy recipe to make. The difficult part is to decide what should accompany the roasted lamb. I prepared a traditional Kashmiri pulao, and I even had an ambitious goal of preparing one or two sambals to go with it. (The sambals did not happen.) One can also just serve some naan and a salad alongside the lamb.
1. Prepare the lamb and the first marinade. Trim all of the fact from the lamb and, using a sharp knife. Roast the dry rub spices in a dry frying pan over a low heat for about 10 minutes. Shake the pan a few times as they release their aroma. Cool slightly and grind to a fine powder. Rub this spiced powder all of over the leg of lamb, in the cuts as well. Leave to marinate for 40 minutes while you get the second marinade ready.
2. Prepare the second marinade. Soak the saffron threads in hot water for five minutes. In a large frying pan, add the oil and fry the onions until light brown. Turn off the heat and cool. Set half of the onions aside. Add the remaining half of the onions, garlic, ginger, and 2 tablespoons of Greek yogurt to a blender. Blend into a smooth fine paste. In a large bowl, add the blended paste along with the remaining yogurt, chile powder, and saffron (with water). Season to taste and mix well. Pour this marinade all over the leg of lamb, mixing well to ensure that it is covered well. Drizzle the leg of lamb with honey. Cover and marinate in the refrigerator overnight or two nights.
3. Roast the lamb. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees Fahrenheit. Roast the lamb in a covered baking dish for 1/2 hour. Reduce the heat to 325 degrees Fahrenheit and cook for 25 minutes per pound, around 1.5 hours until the meat is tender.
4. Prepare the gravy. Blend the garlic and ginger to a smooth paste with a space of water in a grinder or blender. Heat a large frying pan with the oil. Add the paste and fry over a low heat for 2 minutes. Add the spiced powders along with the yogurt and ground almonds. Add any leftover marinade and juices from the baking try to the pan. Fry for 4 minutes. Add 6 tablespoons of water and simmer over a low heat for 12 to 15 minutes. Stir often to make sure that it does not stick to the bottom of the pan. Add a little more water if required to thin it out slightly. Season to taste and keep warm.
5. Finish the dish. Serve the ran on a platter with the fried onions, shallots, mint and pomegranate, as well as pulao and gravy.
We all miss home, but we cannot go back to the same fear. -- Nur Anya
For decades, the Rohingyans -- a Muslim minority group -- have suffered under dehumanizing discrimination in Myanmar. The government refused to grant citizenship to the Rohingyan people, denying legal status to an entire ethnic group. Yet, the government passed laws that placed significant restrictions upon the Rohingya. For example, in the northern towns of Mungdaw and Buthidaugn, the authorities limited Rohingyan couples to two children. The government also requires Rohingyans to get approval before they can marry, as well as to travel or move outside of their home towns. These conditions are exacerbated by the fact that the area where most Rohingyans call "home," the Rakine State, is the least developed of Myanmar's states and has a poverty rate of 78%, which is more than double the national rate of 37.5% percent.
The discrimination and repression led to violence in 2017, after a militant group known as the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army attacked police and army posts. The military cracked down on the Rohingyan people. As the United Nations would later find in an after-the-fact investigation, the Myanmar military showed "genocidal intent" and, in a 2018 report, the UN determined that Myanmar found that the military engaged in "clear patterns of abuse" that included, among other things, the systematic targeting of civilians, promoting discriminatory rhetoric against the Rohingya and establishing a "climate of impunity" for the government's security forces. After approximately one year, it is estimated that the Myanmar military and security forces killed nearly 24,000 Rohingyans.
Fleeing Death and Destruction
The violence and death led to mass displacement of Rohingyans, significant numbers of whom fled as refugees to other countries. I previously touched upon the Rohingyan refugee crisis as part of my culinary challenge involving Myanmar. Approximately 740,000 Rohingyans fled into neighboring Bangladesh. Many more fled to Thailand, Malaysia and Indonesia. It was, at the time, the world's fastest growing humanitarian crisis.
The stories of those who became refugees is heart-wrenching. As Nur Anya recounted from a refugee camp in Bangladesh:
In Myanmar, we had our lands where we grew flowers, vegetables and many plants. We had a big house where all the family members lived together. The violence and the killing drove us to leave our homes. They brunt houses in my neighbourhood. They shot and killed a lot of people in my village. We were living with fear every day. When we decided to leave, we had no other option.
It was the most difficult journey of my life. We walked 13 days and nights. To cross the river, my family used a handmade bamboo raft. There were a lot of people with us -- I could not say what the number was, it was so huge.
As Rohingyans became refugees, many of their villages were abandoned and even more were distroyed. At one point, 176 of 471 Rohingyan villages -- or more than 1/3 of the villages -- had been abandoned. The Myanmar government cleared entire Rohingyan villages and farms. The government then built homes, infrastructure and military bases in their place.
Preserving the Rohingyan Culture
The end result, and perhaps the government's objective, was to eliminate the Rohingya people from Myanmar. The government sought to take the legal status of the people -- that is, no recognition of the Rohingyans -- and make that a factual reality. This creates a clear and present danger to the Rohingyan identity and their culture, including their cuisine. The stories from the refugees include accounts where they had to leave everything behind, including all of their cooking utensils, which makes it harder for them to prepare food for themselves and their families. This leaves the people dependent upon food aid, which has become more difficult to obtain, leading to smaller meals or even skipped meals.
There are efforts to preserve that culture and its cuisine. One example involves the Endangered Material Knowledge Program (EDKM), which provides grants to conduct research on critically endangered knowledge. One project that was under consideration in 2023 was entitled, Rohingya Recipes and Food Practices of stateless Rohingya Community in Camps of Bangladesh. The project description noted the historical difficulty of the Rohingyan people when it came to food: they struggled to maintain the needed nutritional demands, whether it was at their homes in Myanmar or in the refugee camps in Bangladesh. The objective of this project is, among other things, to document recipes and practices of the Rohingyan people.
This research is sorely needed, as there are few resources and research available on the Internet about the Rohingyan people, their culture and their cuisine. I was able to find a few recipes (which was more than my previous research when I was working on my Around the World challenge). I found a couple of recipes, including one for Rohingyan beef curry.
This recipe is a very interesting one. It calls for beef with bones. When I went to the grocery store, I had to improvise: I purchased some stew meat and some marrow bones. The "masala" for this curry -- turmeric, red chile powder, coriander, cumin, and garam masala -- provided for an aromatic cooking experience and a lot of flavor to build upon the garlic/ginger paste.
The end result is a delicious beef curry with a slight kick. (I used Kashmiri chiles for the ground red chile powder.) I could not escape the thoughts about how this dish is just a memory for nearly a million Rohingyan refugees who have been forced from their homes and subjected to even greater poverty than what they previously experienced. I feel incredibly fortunate to be able to prepare this dish and prepare this post, as my effort to help publicize the Rohingyan culture and cuisine. More of this is needed so that the world does not forget the tragedies that unfolded over six years ago.
ROHINGYAN BEEF CURRY
Recipe from SBS Food
Serves 4
Ingredients:
2 large onions, diced
1 kg diced beef, with bones
1 large tomato, diced
2 potatoes, diced
1 tablespoon garlic paste
2 tablespoons ginger paste
1 teaspoon turmeric powder
1 tablespoon red chile powder
1 tablespoon coriander powder
1/2 tablespoon cumin powder
3 teaspoons garam masala powder
4 tablespoons cooking oil
Coriander, as garnish
Green chiles, as garnish
Directions:
1. Saute the vegetables and brown the meat. Heat oil on high heat in a large pot. Add onions, garlic paste and ginger paste. Stir for 2 to 3 minutes until brown. Add diced beef and bones and stir-fry for 2 minutes. Add turmeric powder, red chile powder, coriander and cumin. Stir-fry for 2 more minutes. Add the garam masala and stir-fry for another 2 minutes.
2. Add the liquid and tomatoes. Add 1 cup of water and diced tomatoes and cook on high heat for 5 minutes. Add the potatoes in the last half an hour.
3. Finish the dish. Garnish with coriander (cilantro) and green chiles. Serve with hot steamed rice.
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