Mr. Bayley's West Indies Salad

It all started with a small grocery store at the corner of Dauphin Island Parkway and Fowl River Road, along the western shore of the Mobile Bay in Alabama. The owner, Bill Bayley, Sr. had big plans for that small store. Only, the plans did not involve a grocery store. It involved much more.

Bill Bayley, Sr. settled in the Mobile area after serving in the Merchant Marine. During his time at sea, he worked as a port steward aboard a vessel operated by the Alcoa Ship Lines. In that role, Bayley would have had many responsibilities, including the stocking of groceries for the vessel. Bayley would have also helped with the preparation of sandwiches, salads and other food for the crew. During a stop in the West Indies, Bayley was working in the galley. He boiled some lobster, added some onions, and then dressed it with oil and vinegar.  Bayley remembered that dish and it would play an important role in his future plans. 

Source: Alabama.com

Those plans involved taking the small grocery store that he owned, which stood at the corner of Dauphin Island and Fowl River Road, and turn it into a restaurant. People told him that a restaurant would not work at that particular corner of Mobile, Alabama.  However, Bayley did not listen to them. He opened his restaurant -- Bayley's Seafood, Steaks and Chicken -- in 1947. 

The menu featured an appetizer called West Indies Salad. The dish was inspired by Bayley's time as a port steward. There was one big difference: Bayley did not use Florida lobster. Instead, he chose an ingredient much closer to his new home ... Alabama blue crabs. 

As it turns out, blue crabs were (and, relatively speaking, still are) present in Mobile Bay and its tributaries. One could go to various points along the shore, from Old Nan Seas to Coden Beach or Port of Pines to find crabs.  When one zooms out and looks at what Alabama fishermen pull in per year, it is well over one million pounds of blue crabs per year (at least as of 2016).

Bill Bayley, Sr. in the kitchen. (Source: AL.com)

While Bayley used blue crab to make his salad, the rest of the ingredients remain the same ... onions, cider vinegar, Wesson oil and very cold water (plus salt and pepper). He continued to serve this dish for thirty years, until Beyley's restaurant closed. Beyley continued with a catering business, taking his dishes across the Mississippi, Alabama, Texas and even as far away as Washington, D.C. 

The dish survived, as Bayley's son, Bill Bayley, Jr., opened his own smaller restaurant in the building that previously served as the catering kitchen for his father's restaurant. The West Indies Salad, along with other dishes created by his father, such as the Fried Crab Claws, were the centerpiece for the son's menu. People from all around came to Bayley's Seafood for the West Indies Salad, Fried Crab Claws and other dishes. Bayley, Jr. continued to operate his restaurant for another few decades, until he ultimately closed the doors in 2022. 

While the Bayleys' nearly 80-years of operating a restaurant and serving West Indies salad may have come to an end, the recipe and that dish continue to live on. Interestingly, the family held onto that recipe as a closely guarded secret. The secret was revealed in 1964, when it was published in a Junior League of Mobile cookbook. This is definitely one of the easiest dishes to make, and, it is a great one to serve to guests. For that reason, the recipe continues to live on in the Savage Bolek household.

WEST INDIES SALAD

Recipe from Food.com

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 medium onion
• 1 pound fresh lump crabmeat
• 4 ounces Wesson oil (or vegetable oil)
• 3 ounces cider vinegar
• 4 ounces ice water (as cold as you can get it)
• Salt
• Freshly ground black pepper

Directions:

1. Prepare the crabmeat. Spread half of the onion over the bottom of a large bowl. Cover with separated crab lumps. Add the remaining onion. Season with salt and pepper. Pour oil, vinegar and ice water over the onions and crab meat. Cover and marinate for 2 to 12 hours. 

2. Finish the dish. Toss lightly. Serve as a salad on a bed of letter or on crackers as an appetizer. 

PEACE.

P.S.: I actually posted a recipe for West Indies Salad fourteen years ago. This post will take the place of that old one. For the original blogpost on Chef Bolek (for what it is worth), click here.

Lowcountry Brown Oyster Stew

This post about an oyster stew takes us to a very specific and incredibly important part of South Carolina's lowcountry. It is that part that overlaps with the Gullah-Geechee Corridor. The corridor itself runs from Jacksonville, Florida to Wilmington, North Carolina. However, as the corridor passes through South Carolina, it crosses islands, along with towns and cities, with the rich history of the Gullah-Geechee people. 

The Gullah-Geechee are descended from West Africans who were forcibly taken places ranging from modern day Senegal to Angola during the 18th century. The enslaved West Africans were brought to the United States to labor on rice plantations on the South Carolina's sea islands and along its Atlantic Coast. I had an opportunity to learn about this history and its profound impact upon our country as I prepared a dish of Carolina Crab Rice. (Hint: it was the knowledge and skills, along with the uncompensated hard labor, of those enslaved West Africans that created the infrastructure for, as well as enabled the successful production of, rice in South Carolina.)

The enslaved brought more than their knowledge and skills to this country, they also brought a variety of ingredients that were not part of the American-table at that time. This recipe captures some of those ingredients. For example, dawadawa or fermented locust beans. The fermenting of locust beans can be traced back to the 14th century, and its use in the preparation of food goes equally far back in time. Cooks in African countries like Nigeria, Benin and Ghana use dawadawa in many iconic dishes, like Jollof, as well as soups or stews like Fakoye. Locust beans are typically not cultivated, rather they are dispersed by people and animals. That brings us to the connection between Africa and the "New World." Slaves brought these locust beans with them as they were forcibly taken from Africa and transported to various places in North America, like the South Carolina coast, or the Caribbean. That may be one reason why one can find locust beans, as well as dawadawa, in Haiti. 

Dawadawa (Source: Slow Food)

Another interesting ingredient is the dried crayfish powder. As someone who has used dried shrimp when preparing dishes from Sri Lanka, I have a little familiarity with the umami-like scents and tastes that the ingredient can provide to a dish. The use of dried crayfish powder is used for that very purpose -- to add umami -- in dishes prepared along the African coastline of modern day Ghana and Benin. The technique of drying crayfish - which thrive in freshwater and some brackish water -- could have been brought with Africans so that they could preserve this source of protein for use in dishes.

Both dawadawa and dried crayfish powder are more than ingredients; they embody culinary techniques. A natural processing of ingredients from the land or the water to obtain something more. This particular recipe highlights that fact. The use of dawadawa and ground crayfish powder, along with the sundried tomato powder, served as a substitute for bacon or smoked pork. These ingredients provided elements that mimic smoked flavors, earthiness and richness that one would ordinarily get from using diced up bacon or smoked ham.  

Together, these ingredients helped to produce a stew that I have to say is far more complex and delicious than any oyster stew made with heavy cream. If I had my druthers, I would produce a huge batch of this stew and enter as a contestant in the next Oysterfest held by the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum in October 2025. It probably would not win (as the winners are usually the heavy-cream based stews), but it would introduce a completely different, but equally authentic and historic, way to prepare this dish to an audience who would probably never have the opportunity to taste it. 

LOWCOUNTRY BROWN OYSTER STEW

Recipe from Saveur

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 2 teaspoons toasted benne (sesame seeds)
• 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1/2 teaspoon lemongrass powder
• 4 tablespoons all purpose flour
• 3 tablespoons vegetable oil, divided
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1 celery stalk, finely chopped
• 1 small yellow onion, finely chopped
• 1.5 tablespoons sundried tomato powder
• 2 teaspoons Caribbean bay leaf powder or 2 dried bay leaves; 
• 1.5 teaspoon crawfish powder or dried shrimp powder
• 2 teaspoons ground dawadawa
• 1.5 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1.5 teaspoon onion powder
• 1.5 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 1 teaspoon chipotle powder
• 2 pints shucked fresh oysters
• 6 cups seafood stock, vegetable stock or water
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more
• 2 tablespoons finely chopped onion sprouts or chives

Directions:

1. Toast the spices. in a large skillet set over medium-low heat, add the benne, ginger powder and lemongrass powder; toast until golden-brown, 3-5 minutes. Remove from heat. 

2. Prepare the roux. In a large pot over medium high heat, whisk together the flour, 2 tablespoons of oil and the butter. Stir continuously until the roux turns a dark chocolate brown color, about 5 minutes. 

3. Saute the vegetables. In a separate skillet over medium high heat, add the remaining oil, celery and onion. Cook, stirring frequently, until soft and translucent, about 3 minutes. Remove from the heat. 

4. Continue working with the roux. Turn the heat down to low, then add the tomato powder, bay leaf powder, dawadawa, crawfish powder, garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika and chipotle powder. Cook, stirring continuously until fragrant, about 1 minute. Stir in the celery-onion mixture and then slowly pour in the oyster liquor and the tock, stirring continuously until all the liquid is incorporated into the roux. Add the salt, turn the heat up to medium-low to bring the stew to a boil, then turn the heat back down to maintain a simmer. Cook until the broth is thick enough to coat the back of a wooden spoon and has reduced by about a third, 40 to 45 minutes. 

5. Finish the dish. Remove the stew from the heat, then immediately stir in the oysters (the residual heat will cook them). Season to taste with more salt as needed. Ladle the brown oyster stew into wide soup bowls, garnish with onion sprouts and reserved benne seed-ginger-lemongrass mixture and serve hot. 

PEACE.

Jambalaya

While there is no dispute that jambalaya comes from Louisiana, there is a fair amount of uncertainty as to where "jambalaya" comes from. One school of thought is that the word itself originated from Provence, France. There is a Provencal word - jambalaia - that means "mixed up." Then again, the name could be a mixture itself, from the French word for ham, jambon and the African word for rice, ya. (Although, I have serious doubts about this theory, because I cannot find an African language that translates "rice" into "ya.") There is still another thought that the origin is Spanish, with the combination of jamon and paella. 

One of the most interesting theories is that the word "jambalaya" is actually derived from the Atakapa, a Native American tribe who lived along the Gulf Coast in what is present-day Texas and Louisiana. The Atakapa would say, Sham pal ha, Ya! This translates roughly into "be full, not skinny, eat up!"

Whatever the name's origin, what is beyond dispute is that jambalaya is a mélange of influences. Perhaps the most obvious influence comes from western Africa, with the use of rice and its similarity to jollof rice. There is an equally apparent influence from southern Spain, with the dish resembling paella and probably the use of tomatoes (rather than saffron).  There are French influences, mostly in the form of the spices used, which may have come from the Caribbean as well. 

Yet, there is still some mystery surrounding even the culinary influences, as the written record of recipes for jambalaya date only back to the late 19th century, even though the dish itself goes back much further in time. As for this particular recipe, it is a rather straightforward version of the dish. The absence of tomatoes pushes this dish more into the Cajun column than the Creole one (as the latter is known for its use of tomatoes in the preparation). I have also used turkey based products, such as smoked turkey sausage and turkey thighs, because that is the only meat that my beautiful Angel eats. You can use the more traditional ingredients, such as Andouille and chicken thighs in its place.

JAMBALAYA

Recipe adapted from Kitchn

Serves 4

Ingredients (for the seasoning):

• 1 tablespoon garlic powder
• 1 tablespoon onion powder
• 1 tablespoon paprika
• 1 teaspoon white ground pepper
• 12 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper

Ingredients (for the jambalaya):

• 2 medium scallions, sliced thinly
• 1 small yellow onion, diced
• 3 medium celery stalks, diced
• 1 medium green bell pepper, diced
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 (about 12-ounce) package smoked turkey sausage
• 1 pound turkey thighs, skinned, trimmed, and de-boned
• 1 pound of shrimp
• 8 ounces lump crab meat, picked
• 1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt, divided
• 2 tablespoons neutral oil, divided
• 2 cups medium or long grain rice
• 2 1/2 cups turkey broth 

Directions:

1. Make the seasoning. Combine garlic powder, onion powder, paprika, white ground pepper and cayenne pepper in a small bowl. Stir well to combine. 

2. Prepare the vegetables. Thinly slice the 2 scallions and set aside for garnish. Dice 1 small yellow onion, 3 medium celery stalks, and the green bell pepper (about 1 cup of each). Mince the three garlic cloves.

3. Prepare the meats. Cut the sauce into 1/2-inch thick rounds. Cut the turkey thighs into bite-size pieces. Season the turkey with 1/2 teaspoon of the salt and 1 tablespoon of the seasoning. Carefully rinse the crab meat in a colander and pick out any shells. Season the shrimp with 1 tablespoon of the seasoning. 

4. Brown the sausage. Heat 1 tablespoon of canola oil in a large, heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium high heat until shimmering. Add the sausage in a single layer and cook until browned on the cut sides, 3 to 4 minutes per side. Transfer to a platter using tongs and repeat until all the sausage has been browned.

5. Brown the turkey. Add the remaining 1 tablespoon canola oil to the drippings in the pot. Add the turkey and cook until brown, about 2-3 minutes per side. Using tongs, transfer the turkey to the plate with the sausage. 

6. Sauté the vegetables. Add the onion and garlic mixture, remaining seasoning and remaining salt. Cook, scraping up the browned bits from the bottom of the pot and stirring occasionally until the onions are translucent, about 2 minutes. Add the celery and bell pepper, continue to scrape up the browned bits and continue to stir occasionally, about 2 more minutes. 

7. Add rice. Add the 2 cups of rice and cook, stirring frequently until the rice is opaque and toasty smelling, about 3 minutes. 

8. Add liquid and meats. Pour in the turkey broth and bring to a boil. Add the turkey and sausage and any accumulated juices to the pot and give everything one good stir to mix together. Cover, reduce the heat to low, and simmer undisturbed until the rice is cooked through, about 20 to 30 minutes. 

9.  Sauté the shrimp. Add 1 tablespoon of oil to a small sauté pan. Add the shrimp and sauté until opaque, 2-3 minutes per side. 

9. Stir and let sit. After the rice is cooked through, add the shrimp to the top. Give the mixture a gentle stir on top. Cover again and remove from the heat and let sit for 10 minutes. If the rice is still too wet, take the lid off so the extra liquid evaporates. If the rice is a little dry, keep the lid on a little longer to give the rice more time to absorb the liquid.

ENJOY!

Carolina Crab Rice

Mine is a living culture, not one of some 200 years ago. It's a culture that continues to shape our surroundings.

- Ron Daise, Singer/Cultural Preservationist

The above quote refers to the Gullah Geechee, an African-American ethnic group who live along the coastal lowlands, from Jacksonville (North Carolina) to Jacksonville (Florida). The two names cover one people, with Geechee referring to those who live in the Carolinas and Gullah referring to those who live in Georgia and northern Florida.

The story of the Gullah Geechee is a history about culture.  That history can be traced back to Africa, mostly the Western coastline of the continent, from what is known today as Senegal down to Angola.  Their ancestors were slaves, taken by force from their homes and brought to the southeast  to work on plantations along the coast and on the sea islands. These African ancestors originated from different parts of the African continent, especially along the western coast from Senegal down to Angola.  

Rice cultivation along the Niger River
Source: Wikimedia

If one went inland from those African coasts, following rivers into the heart of the continent, one would have encountered the cultivation of rice. Africa has its own indigenous form of rice, Oryza glabberima. Indeed, it is widely believed that rice cultivation first started in the inland delta regions of the Niger River in an area that now falls within the country of Mali. Africans brought that rice to other parts of the continent, such as westward what would become known as the "Rice Coast," which stretched from Senegal to Sierra Leone.

That same coast was also known for a commodity other than rice ... slaves. European slavers brought Africans from that region (and other parts of the continent) to North America to work on plantations. American plantation owners discovered during the 1700s that they could grow rice in the subtropical regions bordering the coastline. Those owners did not know anything about growing rice, so they turned to the slave trade. The plantation owners were even willing to pay a higher price for slaves from Senegal, Guinea and Sierra Leone, with the expectation that those slaves would know how to cultivate rice. 

Rice raft with Gullah Geechee (1904)
Source: South Carolina Gullah Museum

The slaves who were forcibly brought to Georgia and the Carolinas to work the rice plantations became the foundation of the Gullah Geechee culture. Given the relative isolation of their plantations, and the strong community they built over time, the Gullah and Geechee have been able to preserve much of their culture, including ties to Africa. The Gullah language is an English Creole that has similarities to a Sierra Leone Krio, including common terms such as bigyai (greedy) and swit (delicious). Other words in the Gullah language have been drawn from the indigenous languages of Sierra Leone.

Apart from language, it is rice that provides the Gullah Geechee with the connection to the lands from which they were forcibly taken. The connection was not very simple on the plantations. Slaves first had to remove cypress trees and gum trees, drain swamps (which had alligators and snakes), and create the hydrological infrastructure (think dams, dikes and floodgates) that could be used to irrigate the rice fields. It is estimated that the slaves cleared more than 40,000 acres of land and dug more than 780 miles of canals to provide the foundation for the production of rice in South Carolina.

So, it comes as little to no surprise that a rice dish would be considered as a cornerstone of Gullah Geechee cuisine. I came across a recipe from the Smithsonian Institution's Folklife Festival, from a year with the institution celebrated Gullah Geechee culture. The recipe relies upon one developed by Sallie Ann Robinson, a chef, cookbook author and culinary historian who celebrates the Gullah culture. This particular recipe has some adaptations, which are not identified, nevertheless, the end product is reminiscent of what someone could find on the sea islands of Georgia or along the coast of South Carolina. That end product was also very delicious and, if it were not for the high price for crab meat, would be part of a regular rotation of dishes for me.

CAROLINA CRAB RICE

Recipe from the Smithsonian Institution

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 cup long grain rice, uncooked
• 2 cups water
• Small pinch of salt
• 2-3 strips of thick cut bacon, diced
• 1 celery stalk diced
• 1/2 bell pepper, any color, diced 
• 1 small onion, diced
• 1 pound of crabmeat, cooked (preferably lump)
• Garlic powder
• Onion powder
• Salt
• Black pepper

Directions:

1.  Prepare the rice. Rinse the dry rice under cool water 3 to 4 times and drain. Put the rinsed rice into a small pot, cover with 2 cups of water, add a pinch of salt and bring to a boil. Turn the heat to low, cover the pot and let the rice cook undisturbed for 20 minutes. Remove from heat, crack the lid of the pot so the rice can stop cooking and set aside. 

2. Fry the bacon. In a small skillet, fry the bacon pieces over medium-low heat until all of the fat is rendered and the bacon is crispy, about 3 to 5 minutes. Carefully remove the bacon pieces and set them aside. Reserve the rendered fat in the pan.

3. Fry the vegetables. Over medium heat, add celery, bell pepper and onion to the pan with the bacon fat and sauté until vegetables have softened and onions are translucent, about 5 minutes. Then add crabmeat and cook for an additional 5 to 10 minutes until crab has begun to crisp. 

4. Finish the dish. Add the cooked rice, bacon and seasonings to the pan with the vegetables. Incorporate all of the ingredients until evenly mixed, turn to low and let cook for an additional 5 to 10 minutes. Serve immediately. 

ENJOY!

Qiatou Yi Nen

What we eat is an essential part of who we are and how we define ourselves.

- Fuscia Dunlop, Shark's Fin and Sichuan Pepper: A Sweet-Sour Memoir of Eating in China

Writer Fuscia Dunlop is a well known culinary writer who has focused her attention on Chinese cuisine. Her books -- such as the one quoted above, along with others like Every Grain of Rice (which one a James Beard award in the international cookbook category -- provide interesting insights and perspectives to many different aspects of Chinese cuisine, including provincial and regional dishes, cooking techniques and ingredients. 

My introduction to Dunlop's work comes with her book, The Food of Sichuan. That food is perhaps known best for its hot and spicy dishes. Those dishes catch my attention given my love of chiles.

Yet, there is more to Sichuan cuisine that the heat of the peppers. As food writer and culinary historian, Andrew Coe, noted for Serious Eats, "Sichuan food is really about a variety of flavors: spicy, flowery (Sichuan peppercorns), salty, sour, sweet, bitter, smoky, etc." I find this description intriguing. I have previously explored the concept of "Ngũ Hành" (as it is called by the Vietnamese), which recognizes five fundamental tastes. This concept actually originated in China, which identifies those tastes as salty (or han in the Sichuan dialect), sweet (tian), sour (suan), hot or pungent (la) and bitter (ku). (Dunlop, The Food of Sichuan at 21.) 

Perhaps one of the oldest references to the five tastes can be found in the Tao Te Ching, the text written by Lao Tzu in 400 B.C.  The text is important to Taoism, a school of thought or religion that teaches how one can live in harmony within the universe. Verse 12 of the Tao Te Ching references the five tastes, although there appear to be many, slightly different translations that basically say the same thing. The translation that I chose is the following:

The five colors make people's eyes blind;

Galloping and hunting make people's heart go wild; 

Goods hard to come by make people's acts injurious.

The five flavors make people's mouth numb;

The five notes make people's ears deaf.

Hence, when the sage man ruled,

He supported the stomach, but not the eye.

Therefore he abandoned that and chose this.

All of the translations basically read as having the five tastes causing one's mouth to go numb, in other words, cause people not to taste. 

Sichuan peppercorns
(Source: Serious Eats, photo: Vicky Wasik)

In some sense, Lao Tzu's words are representative of Sichuan cooking, which has its own variation on the five tastes. However, in that cooking, the hot or pungent taste is replaced with numbing (ma). 

This change may be a nod to the use of Sichuan peppercorns, which are not actually pepper. Instead, they are the berries from the prickly ash tree. There are two types of Sichuan peppercorns: red, which provides earthy notes; and green, which provides more floral notes. Both types share something in common. When eaten or tasted, Sichuan peppercorns cause a numbing sensation. They could, in the words of Lao Tzu (however translated), cause "an injury" or "numbness" to the palate. 

Sichuan cuisine even adds another taste: umami (xian) or fragrant (xiang), creating six or seven tastes. Taken together, all seven tastes provide a window into the complexity that can be found in this regional Chinese cuisine. 

Eager to explore these seven tastes, I started selecting recipes from The Food of Sichuan to make in my home. I thought that it would be best to start with some of the simpler recipes. One such recipe - Qiatou Yi Nen - stood out. It is a fairly easy recipe, with the only difficulty arising with a couple of the ingredients. (I still cannot find Sichuan pickled chiles.) Nevertheless, I worked with what I have - including Sichuan peppercorns - to make this dish. The end result was perhaps one of the greatest chicken dishes since I made Chengdu Chicken with Black Beans, Chiles and Peanuts, which happens to be another Sichuan-inspired recipe.

Qiatou Ni Yen focuses primarily on the salty and hot tastes (as well as the Sichuan taste of numbing), both of which comes from the variety of chile and chile-based ingredients. As I move on to other recipes in The Food of Sichuan, my hope is to explore how the cuisine incorporates the other three (or, if we include the other Sichuan element, four) taste elements into the dishes. 

QIATOU YI NEN

Recipe from The Food of Sichuan, pg. 204

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 10 ounces of boneless chicken thigh, preferably with skin
• 2 teaspoons potato starch
• 1 teaspoon whole Sichuan peppercorns
• 6-8 scallions, white parts only
• 1 teaspoon finely chopped ginger
• 2 teaspoons Sichuan chile bean paste
• 1 tablespoon chopped salted chiles or coarsely chopped Sichuan picked chiles
• 1 1/2 tablespoon ground chiles
• 3/4 teaspoon salt
• 6 tablespoons cooking oil (ideally a mix of half lard and half rapeseed oil)

Directions:

1. Prepare the chicken. Place the chicken on a chopping board, skin side down. Use a knife to make shallow, parallel cuts into the chicken at 1/4 inch intervals and then make similar cuts at right angles to the first ones (this cross-hatching will help the flavors to penetrate the chicken and speed up the cooking).  Cut the chicken into 1/2 to 3/4 cubes.  Place in a bowl, add the potato starch and Sichuan peppercorns, along with 1 1/2 tablespoon cold water and mix well. 

2.  Prepare the other ingredients.  Cut the scallion whites into 3/4 inch lengths. Place in a bowl and add the ginger, chile bean paste, chopped chiles, ground chiles, salt and 1 tablespoon of oil.

3. Cook the chicken. Heat the rest of the oil in a seasoned wok over high heat.  When the oil is sizzling hot, add the chicken and stir-fry. As soon as the pieces have separated, add the bowlful of aromatics.  Continue to stir-fry until the oil is gorgeously orange in color and the chicken is just cooked (test one of the larger pieces by cutting it in half to make sure). Serve immediately. 

ENJOY!

Wojape (Wozapi)

If you could make your food taste exactly like the place where you are physically standing, then you can really evoke the flavor profile that resonates through history. This way of thinking provides a direct connection that we have as indigenous people to our ancestors and to the flavors of their foods, because those flavors have not changed.

-Sean Sherman, quoted in Cornell Chronicle

Quotes have an inherent force, a persuasiveness that brings an important point to the forefront so that it could be considered more fully and understood better. Yet, even quotes require a dive into the context surrounding the words, and, when it comes to the foodways of the indigenous peoples of Turtle Island, understanding that context is critical.

Growing up in the Midwest, I learned very little about the indigenous peoples of North America. I write "very little" for a reason. To be sure, indigenous people were mentioned in my U.S. history books. However, the books told that history from the perspective of rich white men, not indigenous men and women. There was very little, if anything, from the perspective of those whose ancestors had lived on this continent for generations.

Fortunately, I found a hobby in cooking, which provides me with an opportunity to learn. I use these chances to educate myself, not just about how to prepare food, but also about the peoples, cultures and history behind the ingredients, cooking processes and dishes. I use this blog to record some of my thoughts and some of what I have learned after making the dishes.

One area that I wanted to further explore involves indigenous cooking throughout North America. The desire to learn about this particular aspect of cooking, as well as the underlying cultures and peoples, really took hold during a visit to  Minneapolis, Minnesota. I was there for work, but I found a restaurant near my hotel that sparked my interest. The restaurant is Owamni, which is run by Chef Sean Sherman. An Oglala Lakota, born in Pine Ridge, South Dakota, Chef Sherman has made it his life's work to educate everyone about indigenous cuisine, as the native Americans would have prepared it (that is, without "colonizer ingredients," such as wheat, beef, pork, etc.). My meal that I had at Owamni was one of the best meals that I had ever had in a restaurant (you can read my restaurant review here).

Since that time, I have wanted to explore indigenous cuisine. The first steps took place on Indigenous People's Day, when I decided to make Wojape or, as it translates in Lakota, "fruit stew. It is a native berry sauce made by indigenous peoples, including the Lakota and Dakota. They traditionally prepared the sauce with canpa'-hu, or, as we would call them chokecherries or bittercherries.  The chokecherry plant is part of the rose family, and it can be found throughout much of the United States and most of Canada. Its white flowers bloom in May, and, then give way to small, rather tart berries in July and August. When the berries are ripe, they are picked for use in a wide range of foods, one of the most common being pemmican, which is a combination of dried meat, fat and, of course, berries. A foodstuff necessary for survival in the northern Plains, especially during the long winter months.

Yet, the Lakota and Dakota also used chokecherries to make wojape. The traditional recipe calls for a combination of cooked chokeberries, pounded raw berries and ground root powder. The result is something that has the consistency of a pudding. As with pemmican, there was a purpose to the pudding. It transformed the berries into something that could last longer than a simple berry sauce.  

As much as I wanted to make a traditional Wojape, I faced a couple of obstacles. First, as common as chokecherries may be, I don't have a ready access to them. Chokecherries are not in my local grocery stores and I don't have the time to go foraging for them. Second, I have even less access to the root powder or root flour that would be used to make the dish. I did not want my start on this indigenous cooking exploration to begin with the use of corn starch or wheat flour. That would seem to be the wrong course to take.

Fortunately, I have a recipe that was developed by Chef Sean Sherman. The recipe comes from Chef Sherman's The Sioux Chef's Indigenous Kitchen cookbook. He provides a recipe that incorporates readily available substitutes, such as blackberries, blueberries and raspberries. His recipe also does not use root powder, but substitutes maple syrup or honey, which provides some slight thickening and more sweetness to the final dish. In the end, I was able to make Wojape; and, in a nod to indigenous cuisine, I served it over a roasted, sliced bison loin. 

WOJAPE (WOZAPI)

Recipe from Sean Sherman, The Sioux Chef's Indigenous Kitchen, pg. 173

Makes 4 to 6 cups

Ingredients:

• 6 cups of fresh berries (chokeberries or a mix of blueberries, raspberries, strawberries, elderberries, cranberries, blackberries)
• 1 to 1/2 cups water
• Honey or maple syrup, to taste

Directions:

Put the berries and water into a saucepan and set over low heat.  Bring to a simmer and cook, stirring occasionally until the mixture is thick. Taste and season with honey or maple syrup as desired.

ENJOY!

Ghanaian Crab Stew

"If you give me rice, I'll eat today. If you teach me how to grow rice, I will eat every day.

-- Mahatma Gandhi

Knowledge comes from learning and experience. If one would trace the origins of how to grow rice, that educational journey would take them most likely to Asia, where it is believed that rice cultivation first emerged between 13,500 to 8,000 years ago in the Yangtze basin of what is now China. However, rice cultivation emerged independently in other areas of the world. For example, rice cultivation emerged in western Africa approximately 3,500 to 3,000 years ago in what is known as the Niger River delta. 

Rice is an important staple food in many parts of Africa. It is grown in 40 of the 54 countries on the continent. From Roz 'me ammar served in Egypt to Geelrys served in South Africa, or from Thieboudienne served in Senegal to Wali ka kukaanga served in Kenya, rice can be found in countless dishes prepared in an equally countless number of ways. Underlying it all is one more basic fact: rice not only provides needed nourishment, it also provides income. After all, rice is the principal crop for more than 35 million small farmers across the continent.

Source: BBC

Yet, as you can probably guess, rice is not simply a chapter in the story of African cuisine, it plays a significant role in cuisines around the world, including the United States. In the U.S., there are really two stories about rice, each with their own perspective. The first story revolves around the native rice or wild rice, which served as a staple food for native Americans. The second story revolves around white rice. It is that story that I want to explore a little further in this post.

As I did my research, I struck by the following phrase: "Enterprising colonists were the first to cultivate rice in America." It is part of a story that supposedly started in 1685, when a slave ship from Madagascar unloaded a load of white rice (what would become known as Carolina Gold rice) at the port in Charleston, South Carolina. This story - which has been repeated multiple times on the internet - suggests that white people brought this rice (along with slaves) to the New World. 

Source: US Slave

The foregoing words do not necessarily tell the story. White rice is not native to the United States. It had to come from somewhere else. Contrary to the popular story, some scientists believe that the rice did not originate from eastern Africa.  Instead, the rice shares an overwhelming number of common molecular markers with rice from Ghana, which is located in western Africa. It is also located in a region where many slaves were taken and shipped to the New World. The region, which runs from present day Guinea-Bissau to at least Cote d'Ivoire, was known as the Rice Coast. It is also the region where at least 50,000 Africans were forcibly taken and shipped to the New World as slaves. More Africans were taken from areas that constitute the present day countries of Ghana and Benin.  These facts and suggest that rice may have come -- with the slaves -- to the shores of the Carolinas during the sixteenth century. 

To be sure, this research is ongoing and even it cannot be said with definitiveness. Nevertheless, it seems beyond debate that Africans played an important role in bringing rice to the New World. This recipe, which is from culinary historian and writer Michael Twitty, ties together the foodways of both the new and the old worlds. 

Mark Bittman penned a wonderful article about Twitty, which included this recipe for Ghanaian Crab Stew. Bittman describes the stew as, not only one of the simpler stews to make, but "a bright stew representing what one might find in a Cape Coast market." This is definitely one of the brighter and simpler stews to make. And, it is also one of the more delicious stews that I have made in a long time. 

GHANAIAN CRAB STEW

Recipe by Michael Twitty, available at Bittman Project

Serves 4

Ingredients (for the Stew)

• 1 medium yellow onion or 6 scallions, green and white parts, minced
• 1 habanero pepper, seeded and minced
• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
• 2 medium tomatoes, peeled and chopped
• 1 green or red bell pepper, seeded and diced
• 1 pound cooked blue crab meat
• 2 teaspoons minced ginger or ginger paste
• 2 teaspoons minced garlic or garlic paste
• 1/2 teaspoon of Kitchen Pepper (click here for recipe)
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 3/4 cup of vegetable, chicken or beef stock
• Parsley, chopped, for garnish
• 4 cups cooked, long-grain rice, for serving

Directions:

1. Sauté the vegetables.  In a medium bowl, mix the onion and habanero.  Heat the oil in a large Dutch oven over medium high heat, add the onion and peppers, and cook for 5-7 minutes, until soft.  Add the tomatoes and bell pepper to the pan.  Sauté, stirring frequently, until the tomatoes begin to soften and break down, about 10 minutes. 

2. Cook the crab.  Flake the crab meat into the pan and add the ginger, garlic, kitchen pepper, salt and stock.  Stir, turn the heat down low and simmer, uncovered, for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.  

3.  Finish the dish. Remove the stew from the heat. Garnish the stew with chopped parsley and serve with rice. 

ENJOY!

Ragu di Turchia Bolognese

The recipe, Ragu Bolognese, has graced this blog on more than one occasion.  I first made a Pappardelle with Spicy Lamb Ragu back in 2012 using a recipe from a cookbook by Josh Wesson, a renown wine expert. A few years later, in 2016, I made another recipe, Tagliatelle alla Bolognese, based on a recipe out of the Eataly cookbook. This second recipe brought me closer - in fact, very close, to the original dish. 

However, if one wants the authentic dish, then one has to travel to Bologna, a city in the Italian region of Emilia-Romagna. This region is considered the culinary capital; and, the city of Bologna is often considered the home of this pasta dish. After all, it is Ragu Bolognese. The association between the city and the dish is so strong that the Bologna Delegation of the Italian Academy of Cuisine patented the recipe with the Bologna Chamber of Commerce in 1982. 

While the patented recipe can be found online for anyone to enjoy, I decided to make my own twist to this famous dish. The original Ragu Bolognese calls for the use of beef (as in the patented recipe) and pork. My beautiful Angel does not eat beef or pork, but I wanted to make this dish for her. She eats turkey, so I substituted the ground turkey (a mixture of 85% meat, 15% fat) for the beef. I also dispensed with the pancetta (and, for that reason, I relied upon a ground turkey mixture with a higher fat content). Finally, the authentic (and patented) recipe calls for "a little broth." My guess is that a little broth means a little beef broth. Once again, to make this dish for my Angel, I used a little turkey stock.

These changes pushed this dish outside the scope of an authentic, traditional Ragu Bolognese. While it may not be authentic, the thing about this dish is that it has evolved as it has traveled beyond the borders of the region. Recipes in other regions of Italy have substituted pork for beef, even going so far as to use small meatballs as called for recipes in Abruzzo or Calabria. And, then there are the variations on the pasta used to make the dish. Perhaps that discussion is best left for another post at a later time. 

RAGU DI TURCHIA BOLOGNESE

Recipe adapted from Travel Emilia Romagna

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 2/3 pound of ground turkey (preferably at least 85%/15%)
• 3/4 cup carrots, diced
• 3/4 cup celery stalk, diced
• 1/2 cup onion, diced
• 5 3/4 cups of tomato sauce or peeled tomatoes
• 1/2 glass of dry white wine
• 1/2 glass of whole milk
• A little turkey stock
  
• Extra virgin olive oil or butter
• Salt
• Pepper
• 1/2 glass of cream (optional)

Directions:

1. Begin sautéing the ingredients. First dice then chop the pancetta with a mezzaluna knife. The melt in a terracotta or aluminum thick pan of about 7 inches deep. Combine 3 tablespoons of oil or 1/4 cup of butter and the finely chopped vegetables and let them gook gently. Add the minced meet and mix well with a ladle until it is cooked and it "sizzles."

2. Continue cooking the mixture. Pour in the wine and stir gently until the alcohol is completely evaporated.  Add in the passata or peeled tomatoes, cover and simmer slowly for about 2 hours, adding broth when necessary, then add the milk at the end to counteract the acidity of the tomato. Season with salt. In the end, when the sauce is ready, according to Bolognese use, add the cream if it is to season dry pasta. For tagliatelle, use as is.

ENJOY!

Vietnamese Grilled Oysters

Thanks to aquaculture, oysters can be found pretty much anywhere in the world, even in places where one may least suspect their presence. One such place is Vietnam. While the shellfish industry is not a traditional one, oyster cultivation has taken root in Vietnam, spanning over twenty-eight (28) provinces from the north to south of the country.  Given most of the oyster production is sold for local consumption, there is little chance that an oyster from Vietnam would grace a seafood market on the other side of the globe. 

It has been said that "oyster farming is cushy." Those words came from the first oyster farmer in the Long Hoa commune, which is found in the Can Gio District just outside of Ho Chi Minh City. The oysters are placed in cages, or hung from ropes on rafts in March, which the farmers tend as the oysters grow. After about four or five months, the farmers begin to harvest the oysters. The harvesting continues for the rest of the year and into the new year, ending around the time of the Tet holiday. The harvested oysters then make the trip to the nearest processing facility. 

In doing the research for this post, I found the two different methods of oyster farming -- cages or ropes, to be really interesting. The first method, cages, is fairly self explanatory. The cages are situated on structures that keep them off of the bottom. The structures also keep the cages in place, where their contents -- mesh begs -- allow oysters to grow. The other method involves the use of rafts, with ropes that hang down from the rafts. The oysters grow on the ropes.

Oyster cultivation using rafts and ropes in
Van Don District, Quang Ninh Province in Vietnam
(Source: Cuisine of Vietnam)

According to one oyster distributor, Vo Tien Chuong, the Vietnamese prefer to eat raw oysters; however, their cuisine does feature dishes such as sour oyster soup and oyster floss. The latter dish is an almost dried mixture of oyster meat, shrimp, pork, fish sauce and salt. While oyster floss made it to the list of dishes that I will make some day, I decided to approach the interplay of oysters and Vietnamese cuisine from a different angle. 

More specifically, I wanted to further explore the Vietnamese concept of "Ngũ Hành" or "Ngũ Vi." This concept is otherwise known as the five elements. When it comes to cooking, there are multiple levels of quintuple elements. For example, there are the five flavors: spice, sour, salty, bitter and sweet. There are also the five textures: crispy, crunchy, chewy, soft and silky. There are even the five cooking methods: raw, steamed, broiled, fried/grilled, and fermented. East Asian cuisines generally, and Vietnamese cuisine in particular, have achieved an amazing balance among the elements at every level. 

I found a recipe for a "zesty Vietnamese dressing" that demonstrated this balance, at least as it came to the five flavors.  Running down the ingredient list, I saw how each item could fit in the balance. The chiles provided the spice. Lime juice perhaps contributes the sour or bitter flavors. Fish sauce definitely imbues a salty umami flavor and there can be no dispute that honey adds sweetness to the dish. 

Together all of these ingredients provide that balance that contributes to an overall amazing flavor of a sauce that could be served alongside or on top of oysters. While I have made many a mignonette sauce to go with raw oysters, I think this cause could perhaps be the best one for oysters served in any of the five cooking methods, thereby achieving balance in yet another, albeit indirect way.  

VIETNAMESE GRILLED OYSTERS

Recipe from Irena Macri

Serves 2-4

Ingredients:

• 1 tablespoon grated fresh ginger
• 1 small garlic clove, finely diced
• 1/2 long red chile, finely diced
• 1 teaspoon sesame oil
• 2 tablespoons of extra-virgin olive oil
• 1 lime, juiced
• 2 tablespoons fish sauce
• 1 teaspoon coconut sugar/syrup or raw honey
• 1 tablespoon Tamari sauce
• 1 tablespoon chopped scallions
• 1 tablespoon chopped cilantro
• 1 or 2 dozen oysters

Directions:

1. Prepare the sauce. Mix or whisk all of the ingredients in a bowl. 

2. Prepare the oysters. Shuck the oysters, removing the top shell but leaving the oysters in the bottom shell.  Spoon 1/2 tablespoon to 1 tablespoon (depending upon the size of the oyster) over the oyster.

3. Grill the oysters. Heat a grill on high heat. Add the oyster shells and grill for 2 minutes. Remove from the grill and serve immediately. 

ENJOY!

Aromatic Chicken from the Shan Hills

There is a region in Myanmar (or Burma) just east of Mandalay, which is historically referred to as the Shan Plateau. If one were to look at a map of the area, it is not so much of a plateau, but hills and mountain ranges divided by narrow valleys. In more recent years, the area has been referred to as the Shan Hills rather than the Shan Plateau. This new name is a little more representative of the landscape in the area. 

The Shan Hills are also a part of the Shan State, which is a political division in eastern Myanmar. It is an area with a long history of armed conflict between the central government and various militias seeking greater autonomy or independence. At the center of that conflict in many ways is the Shan, which form the largest ethnic group in the Shan State and the largest minority in the entire country of Myanmar.

The name "Shan" generally refers to a range of ethnic groups who refer to themselves as the Tai (တႆ). Their cuisine of the Shan or Tai is popular in Myanmar. It incorporates a wide range of ingredients and foods, primarily because the climate enables the cultivation of a wide range of fruits and vegetables. Some of these ingredients include water bamboo, banana buds, quince fruit and pennywort. The Shan also utilize every protein in a wide range of preparations. One that caught my attention is a fermented pork "sashimi."

My introduction to Shan cuisine is going to be a little more traditional, namely, a chicken curry. Generally speaking, Burmese curries stake their own position separate and apart from the curries of their neighbors, such as India, China and Thailand. Burmese curries do not use the spices that often find their way into Indian curries, such as coriander seeds, cumin, cinnamon or cardamom. (Khin Maung Saw, Burmese Cuisine, Its Unique Style and Changes After British Annexation, at 6.) There are also no traditional masalas or curry powders in Burmese cooking. Instead, Burmese curries begin with a generous amount of garlic and ginger, followed by different ingredients, such as lemongrass and lime leaves, to build the flavor of the dish. As for Shan curries, they are known for their use of fresh herbs, such as galangal, lemongrass and sawtooth coriander. (Naomi Daguid, Burma.)

This recipe for aromatic chicken demonstrates the uniqueness of Burmese curries, as well as what one could find in the Shan Hills. The recipe begins with a lot of garlic and ginger, which are pounded into a paste with dried chiles. The curry is then prepared by first browning the chicken in hot oil before adding the paste, along with onions and turmeric.  The recipe demonstrates its Shan roots with the use of lemongrass, lime leaves and cilantro, all of which provide a freshness to the dish.

In the end, this recipe demonstrates what I love about cooking and learning about cooking. Dishes such as this Aromatic Chicken from the Shan Hills represents one significant truism. It is how different groups of people but their own mark on the food they eat, yet, at its most basic level, that food -- such as a curry (however defined) -- is what is common among all of those people. That truism applies in many ways in Myanmar, a country with 136 recognized indigenous ethnic groups. (I underline the number because the Myanmar government only officially recognizes 135 ethnic groups, which include the Shan. The government does not recognize the Rohingya as an indigenous ethnic group within the borders of Myanmar, which I believe to be wrong.)

AROMATIC CHICKEN FROM THE SHAN HILLS

Recipe from Naomi Duguid, Burma, page 167

Serves 6

Ingredients:

• 2/3 cup chopped garlic
• 1/2 cup sliced ginger
• 2 dried red chiles, stemmed
• 1 tablespoon salt
• 1/4 cup peanut oil or vegetable oil
• 1 3 to 3 1/2 pound chicken chopped into small pieces
• 1 cup sliced white or yellow onion
• 1 tablespoon turmeric
• 3 stalks lemongrass, trimmed, smashed and sliced into 1 inch lengths
• 2 Roma or other tomatoes, cut into small wedges (about 8 per tomato)
• 1/2 cup fresh young lime leaves
• 1/2 cup cilantro leaves, finely chopped

 Directions:

1. Prepare a paste. Pound the garlic, ginger and chiles together with a little salt to make a course paste; otherwise, mince them. set aside. 

2.  Cook the chicken. Heat the oil in a large pot or wok over medium-high heat. Add the chicken and turn the pieces in the hot oil for about 3 minutes. Add the onion, 2 teaspoons of salt, turmeric, lemongrass, garlic, ginger, chiles and tomatoes and stir and cook for 2 minutes. Lower the heat to medium, cover and simmer for 5 minutes. 

3. Finish the dish. Add the lime leaves and other 1/2 teaspoon of salt, stir and simmer for 10 minutes or until the chicken is tender and cooked through. Taste and adjust the salt if you wish. Add the coriander, stir in and serve. 

ENJOY!

African Chicken (Galinha a Africana)

If one wanted African Chicken, the journey would take them to an unexpected place. It would not be a restaurant in Dakar or Kigali. It would not be to a home in Nairobi or Gabarone. Instead, that journey would transport the person to a small island off of a continent. The continent is Asia and that island is Macau.

The dish of African Chicken -- or, as it may appear on menus, Galinha a Africana -- embodies the essence of the cuisine of Macau. That essence is fusion. For more than 450 years, chefs and cooks on Macau have incorporated European, African and Asian ingredients, cooking methods and recipes to create the dishes that grace the tables of today.  So much so, that the cuisine of Macau has been recognized by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization or UNESCO as the world's first fusion food. 

The story of Macanese food, as their people, begins with the colonization of the island by Portugal in the 16th century.  Portuguese sailors and merchants came to the island as part of their voyages across the world. The Portuguese who remained on Macau began to intermarry with the Chinese, which gave rise to the Macanese people. The Macanese even had their own language, Patua, which is a form of Portuguese Creole. However, when the Portuguese returned control of Macau to China, the Macanese people began to disperse. Presently, the Macanese constitute about 10% of the population of the island at best, and, their language is deemed critically endangered, with only about 50 speakers as of 2000 (and that was 20 years ago).  

Like the people, Macanese cuisine is basically a fusion of Portuguese and Chinese cuisines, but it incorporates ingredients, cooking processes, and recipes from around the world, including Brazil, Angola, Mozambique, Goa and Timor. This is where African Chicken provides a perfect example of Macau's fusion cuisine because that fusion can be found on multiple levels. For example, the dish incorporates chiles, which were brought to Macau by the Portuguese from Angola and Mozambique. It also incorporates fish sauce, that wonderful umami flavor that can be found in southeastern Asian cuisine. The fusion involves more than just ingredients, it also includes cooking processes. The chicken is first grilled until the skin becomes crispy and brown, and then the chicken is braised in its marinade. The end result is everything that is best about each African, Asian and European cuisine, namely fiery piri chiles, the smell and taste of fish sauce and the juiciness of braised chicken.

The one other fascinating aspect about this dish is that, according to some, "you never know what you are going to get" when you order African Chicken in Macau. Sometimes the chicken is grilled and served without sauce. Other times it is presented as a stew. Some versions are fiery hot because of the chiles (as was the version I prepared), others have sweeter notes brought about by the coconut. The malleable nature of this dish may be just simply another level of fusion, enabling cooks and chefs to add their own personal touches to what is truly a global dish.

Finally, this post would not be complete without a mention of the Africans who were and are still present in Macau. During the colonial period, Africans served in the galleys of ships or as servants at the houses of the rich in Macau and southeastern China. After slavery was abolished, Portugal continued to bring Africans from Angola and Mozambique to serve as soldiers in Macau. After the 1974 Portuguese revolution, many of these African soldiers returned to their countries. Some remained, as well as others who came to the island and to China to study. They remain an important part of the community on the island.

AFRICAN CHICKEN

Recipe adapted from SCMP and Omnivore's Cookbook

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 8 bone-in chicken thighs or breasts
• 3 1/2 ounces shallots, peeled
• 1 3/4 ounce garlic, peeled
• 1 ounce ginger, peeled
• 1/2 to 3/4 ounce of red bird's eye chiles
• 3 1/2 ounces red banana chiles
• 7/8 ounce fresh cilantro
• 1/2 teaspoon black peppercorns
• 2 tablespoons and 1 teaspoon granulated sugar
• 2 teaspoons chile powder
• 3/4 teaspoons paprika
• 5 teaspoons fish sauce
• 1 tablespoon vinegar
• 5 teaspoons fresh lime juice
• 2/3 cup coconut milk

Directions:

1. Prepare the chicken. Dry the chicken with paper towels.  Sprinkle salt on both sides of the chicken and place it into a bowl.

2. Prepare the marinade. Roughly chop the shallots, garlic and ginger, placing them into a bowl for a food processor or blender. Mince the bird's eye chiles, shaking out as many seeds as possible. Roughly chop the banana chiles and cilantro. Add the chiles and cilantro to the blender or food processor. Add the peppercorns, sugar, chile powder, paprika and 10 grams of salt to the food processor or blender and process the ingredients to a coarse paste. Add the fish sauce, vinegar and lime juice. Process the ingredients to a rough puree. Stir in the coconut milk into the puree and then pour the marinade into the bowl holding the chicken. Mix well to ensure the pieces are coated with marinade and refrigerate for three to eight hours, mixing occasionally. Take the bowl from the fridge an hour before cooking the chicken. 

3. Cook the chicken. Preheat the oven broiler. Take the chicken out of the bowl and wipe off as much marinade as possible. Place the pieces skin side up in one layer on a baking tray. Grill the chicken on high until the skin is deep brown and slightly charred in spots, then turn the oven to 390 degrees Fahrenheit and continue baking for eight minutes for the breasts, 10 minutes for thighs. 

4.  Prepare the sauce. While the chicken is cooking, pour the marinade into a heatproof serving dish (such as enameled cast iron just large enough to fit the chicken pieces a little snugly in one layer. Place over a medium flame and bring to a bowl, then lower the heat and simmer, stirring often, until the sauce is a nice coating consistency. Taste the sauce and correct the seasonings, as necessary. If it is too spicy, add more sugar and/or coconut milk. 

5. Continue cooking the chicken. After baking the chicken, take the pan from the oven. Pour any chicken juices into the serving dish. Place the chicken in the dish and spoon the sauce over the pieces to lightly coat them. Place the dish in the oven and bake for another 8 to 10 minutes. 

6. Finish the dish. Place sprigs of fresh cilantro over the chicken. Serve immediately with rice or potatoes. 

ENJOY!