Around the World in 80 Dishes: Yemen

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

-- Tawakkol Karmon, Nobel Peace Laureate (2011)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MAIN COURSE

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

Lamb shanks before the marinade.

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

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

LAMB HANEETH

Recipe from Every Little Crumb

Serves 4

Ingredients:

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

Directions:

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

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

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

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

CONDIMENT

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

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

SHATTA

Recipe from My Goodness Kitchen

Ingredients:

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

Directions:

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

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

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

PEACE.

Pikliz

"Avan w te pikliz sonje w te chou non mache kawbosal." ("Before you were pikliz, remember you were cabbage at the Kawbosal Market")

 -- Haitian proverb

The proverb serves as a good reminder of many things. In one respect, it is a cautionary statement that one should always be humble and remember where they came from. That head of cabbage is about as simple as it can get. But, when combined with carrots, onions, chiles and vinegar, the cabbage becomes one of the most eponymous things of Haitian cuisine ... pikliz. 

Although it may be an essential part of Haitian cuisine, its origin has been lost to time. Some allude to the influence of the French colonizers, who utilized the pickling process to extend the life of fresh foods, like vegetables and meats. But, pikliz is uniquely Haitian. It combines common vegetables that could be grown in a person's yard, like cabbage and carrots, along with a ready supply of pickling agent (such as the juice of sour oranges that could be collected from trees in the neighborhood. Add in the chiles, with provide the sting, and one has a side for which there is no direct or even indirect counterpart in French cuisine. Yet, it is a condiment that can almost be found on or near tables where Haitian food is served, whether in Haiti itself or among its diaspora around the world, including the United States. 

Indeed, there is a large Haitian-American community in our country, nearly 731,000 people. That number makes Haitians and Haitian-Americans the 15th largest foreign-born community in the United States. The number of Haitians seeking refuge in the United States has increased in recent years and decades, as the turmoil and violence has increased in their home country. While a history lesson is probably best left for another post or perhaps another blog, it is safe to say that responsibility for the current circumstances in Haiti extend far beyond the Haitians themselves to western powers such as the United States and France. Haiti's freedom came at a huge economic cost in terms of financial payments to France. Haiti was forced to repay $60 million to France during the 1800s, which would be nearly $2 billion in todays terms. The loss of financial resources stunted economic development and growth in Haiti. Political development and growth was stunted by U.S. foreign policy, which always prioritized interests other than those of the Haitians. Yet, as the situation continued to spiral downward, few have come to the aid of Haiti or its people. That led many Haitians to emigrate, leading to a diaspora that extends up and down the Western Hemisphere. 

Haitians who have come to the United States have brought their culture and their cuisine, like pikliz, with them. It is not uncommon to venture to a Haitian restaurant, whether in the Little Haiti community of Miami, Florida or the one in Flatbush, New York City, and find pikliz on the table. Yet, the Haitians have contributed much more to the United States than that condiment. They have been contributing to the United States as long as there has been a United States. For example, hundreds of Haitians fought alongside Americans in Savannah during the American War for Independence.  It is also established that the Haitian's own war for independence created the circumstances that led to the Louisiana Purchase, because it led a weakened France to sell the territory to the United States.

On a more individual level, Haitians who have come to this country have helped to improve it throughout our history. After gaining his freedom from slavery, Haitian Pierre Toussaint established charitable services for refugees in nineteenth century New York City. Mary Elizabeth Lange did the same at the same time in Baltimore Maryland. In more recent years, Haitians and Haitian-Americans have been contributing to all aspects of our economy, society and government. From music (Wyclef Jean) to literature (Edwidge Dandicat), from those who work in the medical fields to the agricultural fields, Haitians have become an important part of our country. So much so that even the CATO Institute recognizes that Haitians have assimilated very well into our country. The Haitian community, and the Haitian-American community, is an American community. 

Yet, this administration has attacked this community by ending Temporary Protected Status for as many as 331,000 Haitians. That status was extended to Haitians who fled their homes due to natural disasters, violence and instability. They came to the United States, obtained residences and work permits, joining the active workforce and making a positive contribution to our economy and our society. Haitians actually participate in the workforce at a greater rate than native-born Americans. While TPS is a temporary status, it offers these Haitians an opportunity to pursue legal status through other avenues if they want to remain in this country. Those avenues will now close, and Haitians will be forced to return a country that may be an even worse condition than when they fled in the first place. 

The decision to end TPS for Haitians is based solely upon racism and not on anything else. The current U.S. government welcomes anyone with white skin color, while it deports those with brown and black skin color. Unfortunately, American immigration policy has long been built upon, and fueled by, racism. It is also keeps the United States from becoming great. As I have previously noted with respect to discrimination against the Somali community, our country's greatness comes from its diversity. That diversity brings not only a variety of peoples from different places, but a range of perspectives, knowledge and ambition that contributed to the rise of this country in the 19th and 20th centuries. If we want America to be truly great again, then we need to free ourselves from the grips of racism and intolerance. 

We need to remember that, when the United States was founded, it was a proverbial cabbage. However, over time, additional ingredients were added, like onions, carrots, peppers, scallions, bell peppers and chiles. Each of these new ingredients retained their identities alongside the cabbage, whether it is the crunch of the onions, the sweetness of the bell peppers, or the heat of the chiles. All of these ingredients were bound together with vinegar, with its sharp, tart taste. That vinegar taste represents our history, one that has been acidic and bitter, as demonstrated by slavery, segregation, Japanese internment camps, systemic and bureaucratic discrimination against a wide range of groups. Despite the acidity, and perhaps because of it, everything comes together just like pikliz. Indeed, the United States is a bowl of pikliz. We need to appreciate that, and, in the present moment, the contribution that one of those ingredients, the Haitian people living in the United States, have made to the greatness of our country. 

 

HAITIAN PIKLIZ

Recipe from Andrew Zimmern

Ingredients:

• 2 cups thinly sliced green cabbage
• 1 medium onion, halved and thinly sliced
• 1 large carrot, peeled and coarsely grated
• 1 small green, red or yellow bellow pepper, seeded and thinly sliced
• 2 scallions, thinly sliced
• 4 Scotch bonnet or habanero chiles, seeded and very thinly sliced
• 4 garlic cloves, finely chopped
• 1 1/4 teaspoons kosher salt
• 12 black peppercorns
• 4 whole cloves 
• 1 1/2 cups cane vinegar or white vinegar
• Juice of 1 lime

Directions:

Pack vegetables and seasonings into a quart jar with a lid, add the vinegar and lime juice. Cover and refrigerate. 

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Postscript: After the posting of this recipe, the United Startes District Court for the District of Columbia (Honorable Judge Reyes presiding) enjoined the rescission of temporary protected status for Haitians living in the United States by the Department of Homeland Security and Secretary Kristi Noem. For the moment, Haitians can continue to contribute to our country in the important ways that I discuss above.

PEACE.

Akotonshi

Living in the Chesapeake Bay region, I often find myself having a parochial view about blue crabs. I know that blue crabs can be found around the world (see my post about their invasion of Italian waters), but I admittedly think very regionally about blue crabs when it comes to cooking. Bury them in Old Bay or XO and steam them. The only true crabcakes are Maryland crabcakes. It becomes ingrained in a person the longer they live in the area.

Yet, there is so much more to blue crab dishes. I previously posted about a crab dish from Ghana -- Ghanian Crab Stew -- but I spent more time talking about rice than I did blue crab. As it turns out, the crusteacean has quite the place in Ghanaian cuisine and culture. So, it seems appropriate to return to Ghana when I was looking to prepare a crab dish based upon a cuisine far beyond the waters of the Chesapeake Bay. My efforts would take me to the brackish waters in southern Ghana, such as the estuary of the Volta River, where the river waters meet the Atlantic Ocean, and the various lagoons that are parallel to that ocean.

At one point in time, there was an abundance of blue crabs, shrimp, shellfish, and fin fish in these brackish waters. These populations benefitted from mangroves, which sprouted up in various areas along the lagoons and deltas, and which provide protected areas for crabs, shellfish and fish. They also supported fisheries across southern Ghana. Those fisheries, in turn, provided incomes that sustained families from Agbletokwei to Kpotitsekopre. 

However, those fisheries have faced a range of issues in recent years. Much of the mangroves have been cut down, causing a loss of habitat for crustaceans like the blue crab. Overfishing generally, and the rise of industrial fishing and illegal fishing, have also contributed to the loss of populations, as has the increased amount of pollution from industrialization. As the populations of crab, shrimp and fish decline, so does the ability of small-scale fishermen and women to make a living and provide for their families. 

There have been efforts to try to support small scale, local fishing. For example, back in 2021, the U.S. Agency for International Development provided millions to help restore Ghanian fisheries. That program focused on sardines, mackerel and anchovies, which meant more of a focus on the Atlantic Ocean (which is still needed), than the brackish coastal waters. (The current Trump administration is trying to destroy USAID, depriving the entire world -- including the U.S. -- of the benefits from international development assistance.) More recently, in July 2025, the Ghanian government passed the Fisheries and Aquaculture Law, which helps protect small scale fishers who use traditional canoes from illegal fishing vessels. This law is also focused on the ocean, rather than the lagoons and rivers of the country. 

I hope that a more wholistic approach may be pursued, one that recognizes the interconnectedness of the rivers, lagoons and oceans, thereby addressing all of it. This effort would also require a focus not only on the water, but also the land, such as restoring the mangroves and the habitats for aquatic species, which is happening in certain parts of Ghana, like in the Keta Lagoon. These efforts have seen positive results, For an overview of what is being done in that lagoon, check out this video from Terraformation:

We have the power to undo the damage we have done, but it takes commitment and, most importantly, time.  With more mangroves come more aquatic species, like blue crabs. And, with more blue crabs come dishes like Akotonshi.

AKONTOSHI

Recipe adapted from African Food Network

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 8 whole crabs or 1 pound of cooked crab meat
• 2 large fresh ginger pieces
• 2 cloves
• 4 tablespoons cooking oil
• 2 large onions, minced
• 2 teaspoons ground ginger
• 3-4 large tomatoes, finely chopped
• 2 tablespoons tomato paste
• 2 large green bell peppers, finely chopped
• 2 teaspoons paprika
• 2 teaspoons ground cumin
• 2 teaspoons ground nutmeg
• 2 teaspoons dried thyme leaves
• 2 teaspoons grains of paradise, growned to a powder (optiona0l)
• 4 medium minced African bird peppers (or hot Thai peppers)
• 1/2 to 2/3 cup dried shrimp
• Plain bread crumbs
• Parsley
• Salt 

Directions:

1. Prepare the crabs or crab meat. If cooking whole crabs, clean them and bring a large pot of water to a bowl. Add the ginbger cloves and crab and cook for 15 minutes. Remvoe crabs and meat, keep shells for plating. If using crab meat, mix crab meat with 1/4 cup of water that has been boiled with ginger piece and cloves for 15 minutes.  Drain the water, flake the meat and set aside.

2. Saute the onions, tomatoes and spices. In a heavy pot, heat the oil to medium and add the other ingredients in the following sequence, stirring for a minute for so between each ingredient: onions, ground ginger, tomatoes, tomato paste, green pepper, cumin, nutmeg, thyme, grains of paradise (if using), paprika, masked peppers and dried shrump. Reduce heat and simmer for about 4-5 minutes, stirting constantly until vegetables are cooked.

3. Add the crab meat. Then add the crab meat and stir for another couple of minutes to heat it through. 

4. Finish the dish. Remove from heat, and spoon the crab mixture into the crab shells or ramekins if you began with crab meat. Sprinkle breadcrumbs on top of each serving and toast under an oven broiler for a couple of minutes. Be careful not to let the crumbs scorch. Garnish with chopped parsley and serve immediately. 

PEACE.

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Mexico

"Mexican food is far more varied than people think."

-- Gael Garcia Bernal, Actor & Filmmaker

That statement is particularly true if the people happen to live in the United States. In a country where the history of Mexican food tells the tales of Chi-Chi's and Chili's, along with Taco Bell and Chipotle, one could easily think that Mexican food consists of nachos, tacos, quesadillas and chalupas. Yet, the entirety of Mexico, from the Rio Grande to the Usumacinta, from the Pacific to the Caribbean, plays host to a wide range of different cuisines. The foods of the arid stretches of Sonora differ from those along the coastline of Jalisco. Those dishes differ from the indigenous cuisines of Oaxaca and Tabasco.

Americans love Mexican food, but as Anthony Bourdain once noted, "we have barely scratched the surface of what Mexican food really is." In some respects, Mexican cuisine is older than "the great cuisines" of Europe. And, it can stand its ground with those cuisines as well. A mole sauce from Oaxaca is as complicated to make (if not more so), in terms of ingredients and processes, as any sauce from storied European cuisines that are featured the Michelin-starred kitchens of restaurants anywhere in the world.  

The regional cuisines of Mexico

In order to understand the range of regional cuisines in Mexico, one needs to look at the country itself. Generally speaking, one could outline at least seven different regional cuisines. There is the El Norte (Aguascalientes, Baja, Sonora, Chihuahua, Cohuila, Durango, Nuevo Leon, Tamaulipas and Zacatecas), with a range of seafood dishes from the coasts of the Pacific Ocean and Baja California) to the beef dishes from the ranches of Sonora and Chichuahua. (I think this could be split in two separate regions on its own.) There is the Costa del Pacifico Norte (Comalina, Jalisco, Nyarit, and Sinaloa), which is known for dishes such as pozole and birria. There is the Bajio (Guanajuato, Michoacan, Queretaro and San Luis Potosi), where rice and pork feature prominently. There is Costa del Pacifico Sur (Chiapas, Guerrero, and Oaxaca) where one could enjoy the cuisine of the indigenous peoples. Then there is El Sur (Campeche, Quintana Roo and Yucatan), where one could enjoy pork dishes like pibil. There is El Golfo (Tabasco & Veracruz), where, as noted above, there is Afro-Cuban and Creole influences. Finally, Mexico Central (Federal District, Hidalgo, Mexico, Morelos,  Puebla, and Tlaxcala), where many of the other regions' influences meet. 

This variety makes the preparation of a main dish from Mexico especially challenging. I have previously dabbled in the particular regional cuisines, whether it is preparing the Mole Verde Zacatano or Tacos de Chapulines con Tequila y Guacamole. Yet, which cuisine will reign supreme for this Mexican round of my Around the World in 80 Dishes Challenge? 

With so many regions, states and cuisines to choose from, I decided to introduce some randomness. I used a random address generator to provide me with three addresses as starting points to choose the cuisine and the dish. Those addresses gave me the following Mexican States: (1) Sonora; (2) Jalisco; and (3) Tabasco.

APPETIZER

I have never traveled to the State of Sonora, let alone walked the streets of its capital, Hermosillo, during the 1980s. (I would have been in my teens during that time.) Yet, if one did, they would have come across the culinary creation known as the Sonoran Dog or the Danger Dog. Vendors, known as dogueros, grilled bacon-wrapped hot dogs, which they placed in bollilo bun could be customized with a rage of toppings and condiments. Toppings typically included tomatoes, onions, beans, guacamole or salsa, while condiments could include mayonnaise or mustard. 

Grilling the dogs is the key. One cannot boil or steam them. However, some vendors operated in less than sanitary conditions or in violation of food preparation regulations, which gave rise to the name "danger dogs." Fortunately, I found a recipe on Saveur from Danny Trejo, the famous actor who owns restaurants like Trejo's Cantina and Trejo's tacos. There is no issue with the food, the only danger would be crossing one of characters played by Trejo, like Navajas from Desperado or Machete from the movie of the same name.

DANGER DOGS (SONORAN DOGS)

Recipe from Danny Trejo

Serves 4-6

Ingredients (for onions and peppers):

• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 medium onion, thinly sliced (1 1/2 cup)
• 1/2 medium green bell pepper, thinly sliced (2/3 cup)
• 1/2 medium red bell pepper, thinly sliced (2/3 cup)
• Kosher salt

Ingredients (for the Danger Dogs):

• 2 jalapenos, quartered lengthwise
• 6 hot dogs
• 6 bacon slices
• 6 hot dog buns
• 2 tablespooons vegetable oil

Directions:

1. Prepare the onions and peppers. In a large skillet, add the oil and onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and beginning to brown, about 7 minutes. Add the green and red bell peppers and cook, stirring occasionally, until everyhting is soft and deep golden brown, 10-12 minutes. Transfer to a bowl, season to taste with salt, and set aside. 

2. Prepare the jalapeno peppers. In an empty skillet, add the jalapenos skin-side down and cook over medium heat without moving until charred, about 5 minutes. Turn them owner and cook until tender, about 5 minutes more. Transfer to a bowl and set aside. Return the skillet ot the stove and turn off heat. 

3. Make the danger dogs. Tightly wrap the hot dogs in bacon from end to end. To the empty skillet, add the oil and turn the heat to medium. When it's hot and shimmering, add the hot dogs and cook until browned on the bottom, about 5 minutes. Using tongs, give each hot dog a quarter turn and cook for another 5 minutes. Repeat on the remiaining two sides until the hot dogs are crisp all over. 

4. Finish the dish. To serve, spoon the reserved onions and peppers into buns, then top each with one jalapeno slice. Top with the hot dogs and serve immediately. 

MAIN COURSE

As the story goes, the Spanish conqusitadors were not the only ones to arrive in what is now Mexico during the 16th century. Those conquistadors brought goats with them, which were used to help clear the rugged terrain as the conquistadors and colonizers made their way across the Americas. However, the goats became a problem. Their numbers multipled and, as the Spanish colonizers settled in, there was not as great of a need for the goats. Unlike cattle or pigs, the Spanish were not fans of eating cabro or cabra, as they did not like the smell or taste of the gamey meat. So, in Jalisco, they decided to give the goats to the indigenous peoples. The goats were just as much of a problem for the natives, as the goats ate everything, including the crops. So the indigenous people decided to eat the goats. They used traditional preparations, using spices and herbs as they cooked the meat slowly in vinegar and water, until it became a delicious soup. The Spanish were unimpressed, referring to the soup derogatorily as "birria," which means "worthless" or "useless." 

That worthless soup outlived the Spanish empire and became an important part of the cuisine in Jalisco. A person who prepares the iconic soup became known as birriero. The preparations began to vary with regions within Jalisco and with the cooks, but the end product - the soup with its rich broth did not change. As birria expanded across Mexico, there were additional changes. For example, as it reached Tijuana in the 1950s, a street food vendor named Don Guadalupe Zarate decided to use beef instead of goat. There is also a legend in connection with Zarate that customers asked him to add liquid to the birria, which led to the beef soup. (I think that this part is probably legend, as other sources indicate that the preparation of birria as a soup goes back to Jalisco.)

Birria continued its expansion northward, along with Danger Dogs, into the United States. Culinary migrants, whose aromas and flavors would add to the tables in kitchens and restaurants across the country. Birria could not make it on its own, it needed real people, real migrants who came to this country seeking a better life for themselves and their families. At first, there was Chalio Luis, who brought birria to the Los Angeles, California in the 1970s. Then there was Reuben Ramirez, along with his cousins Oscar and Omar Gonzalez, who opened a birria stand in South Central Los Angeles, California in 2013. There were countless others, who brought their knowledge as birreros or just as someone who could prepare birria to the U.S. for people to eat and enjoy. 

Today, Americans have embraced birria, with restaurants serving the beef and broth, often in taco form, in restaurants from Washington, D.C. to Los Angeles, California. However, our government has turned against the Mexicans migrants and residents who live in the United States (along with all other individuals with brown or black skin). Governmental authorities have increased their efforts to deport them, with masked individuals rounding up individuals and taking them away in unmarked vans to detention centers and prisons. These facts were not lost on me as I prepared this dish. 

BEEF BIRRIA

Recipe from Isabel Eats

Serves many

Ingredients:

• 4 to 5 pounds chuck roast, cut into large 4-inch chunks
• 1/2 tablespoon kosher salt
• 1/2 tablespoon ground black pepper
• 1 1/2 tablespoon olive oil
• 12 guajillo chiles, rinsed, stemmed and seeded
• 5 ancho chiles, rinsed, stemmed and seeded
• 5 arbol chiles, rinsed and stemmed
• 2 large Roma tomatoes
• 1/2 medium yellow onion
• 1 4-inch Mexican cinnamon stick
• 3 bay leaves
• 1/2 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
• Water, as needed
• 2 cups beef broth
• 1/4 cup distilled white viengar
• 5 cloves garlic
• 1 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1 teaspoon dried Mexican oregano
• 1/2 teaspoong ground cloves

Directions:

1. Brown the meat. Generously season the meat with salt and pepper on all sides, and heat the olive oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium high heat. Working in 2 batches, add the meat and sear on all sides until browned. Remove the pot from the heat, add the seared meat back into the pot and set aside. 

2. Continue with other ingredients. While the meat is searing, add the guajillo chiles, ancho chiles, arbol chiles, tomatoes, onion, cinnamon stick, bay leaves and pepper corns to a medium pot. Cover completely with water and bring to a boil over high ehat. Reduce the heat to low, cover, and cook for 10 minutes. 

3. Blend the other ingredients. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the softened chiles and other ingredients to a large blender. Add 1 cup of the chile soaked cooking water, the beef broth, white vinegar, garlic, cumin, oregano and cloves. Blend on high for a few minutes until compeletly smooth. (You may have to do this in 2 batches if your blender is not big enough.) Strain the blended sauce through a fine mesh strainer into the pot with the seared meat. Discard any solids left behind.

4. Cook the birria. Stir the meat and chile sauce together to combine and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to low, cover and simmer for 3 to 3 1/2 hours until the meat is fall-apart tender. 

5. Finish the dish. Transfer the meat to a large bowl and shred it with two forks. Add the meat back into the consomme and serve as a stew in bowls with diced onion and chopped cilantro, or as tacos in corn tortillas with shredded Oaxaca cheese, cilantro and diced onions.

SAUCE

For the last dish, which comes from the state of Tabasco, a State that lies along Mexico's Caribbean coastline of Mexico. This region has a long history, stretching all the way back to the Olmec civilization, which predominated over the area from 1400 BCE to about 400 BCE. After the decline of the Olmecs, the Chontal Maya civilization emerged, controlling the area from 300 CE until the Spanish conquistadors and colonists arrived. 

I wanted to find a recipe that draws from the pre-Spanish culinary traditions. I found it in chirmol. I am not talking about the Guatemalan salsa. Instead, it is a "stew" whose origins go back as far as the Chontal Maya civilization, if not further back in time. The quotation marks are used because chirmol is not so much a stew, as it is a mole. A sauce prepared with a range of ingredients that set it apart from other preparations. For the chirmol, the key ingredients are the tortillas, which are burnt; the anchos, which provide the smoke and spice; and, most importantly, the petitas or pumpkin seeds. 

The sauce is very versatile, but it is usually served over chicken, fish or pork. Of course, chicken and pork are not indigenous ingredients, both of which having been brought over by the Spanish. If you want to de-colonize the dish, I would use either fish or turkeys, which had been domesticated by indigenous people in the area long before Spanish arrived. 

CHIRMOL TABASQUENO

Recipe from Hunter Angler Gardener Cook

Serves 6

Ingredients:

• 3 stale tortillas or tostadas
• 3 to 5 ancho chiles, stemmed and seeded
• 1 head of garlic, cloves separated but not peeled
• 1 white onion, peeled and quartered
• 1/2 pound Roma tomatoes, halved lengthwise
• 1/3 pound pepitas or pumpkin seeds
• 3 cloves
• 1 tablespoon achiote paste (optional)
• 1/2 teaspoon anise seeds (optional)
• 1 hoja santa or small bunch of epazote (optional)
• 2 tablespoons lard or olive oil
• 1 pound of crab meat (or any other protein)

Directions:

1. Prepare the tortillas. Get a large heavy frying pan or comal very hot. Partially char the stale tortillas, you want lots of black marks, but don't blacken them totally. If you are using tostadas, no need for this. 

2. Prepare the chiles. Briefly toast the ancho chiles, pressing down on them with a spatula. You want to see some blistering, so maybe 10 to 30 seconds per side. Submerge all the toasted chiles in warm water. 

3. Prepare the other ingredients. Arrange the onions garlic and tomatoes on the hot pan to char them. You want serious blackening here. The tomatoes will take the longest, and don't be tempted to move them too soon or you will leave all the good blackened bits in the pan. If that happens, scrape it up immediately and set the scapings aside.

4. Toast the pepitas. In another pan, toast the pumpkin seeds over medium high heat until they start to pop. Move to the bowl of a blender. Crush up the toasted tortillas and put them in the blender too, along with the cloves, achiote, and anise seeds, if using. Add enough water to the blender to turn this all into a runny paste. Pour the contents into a large bowl. 

5. Continue the preparation. When the vegetables are nicely charred, peel the garlic, then add everything to the blender with the soaked chiles and the joa santa leaf if using. Add some of the chile soaking water and blend this to a puree too. Add it to the bowl and mix well. Add salt to taste.  

6. Finish the dish. Heat the lard or olive oil in a pot over medium high heat and when it's hot, add the chirmol. Stir well to combine and drop the heat to low. Let this simmer 15 to 20 minutes. Serve over cooked crabmeat or other protein. 

*     *     *

This challenge has special meaning. I strived to complete it by Mexican Independence Day in 2025, during a time in which the administration of the United States was using its enforcement powers in unconstitutional and inhumane ways against Mexicans who were living here both lawfully and without proper documentation. It was also reported that the administration planned to have Immigration & Customs Enforcement target Mexican Independence Day celebrations in Chicago, Illinois. Rather than persecute people, I wanted to join in the celebration of their culture.

In so doing, I made three interesting dishes from across the country. All three were successes and I look forward to where the next challenge will take me. 

PAZ.

Sos ti-Malice

According to legend, there were two men -- Bouki and ti-Malice -- who were very good friends. Bouki has a kindhearted soul, but he was also gullible and, in some respects, a freeloader. Bouki would always show up at the house of ti-Malice around lunch time, hoping to get a free meal. As Haitians are hospitable and welcoming into their homes, ti-Malice always shared his meal with Bouki.

However, ti-Malice was also a bit of a trickster. He worked out a plan that would get Bouki to second-guess coming over for lunch every day. ti-Malice prepared a very hot sauce, which he covered the meat that would be his lunch. As expected, Bouki came over for lunch and ti-Malice offered some of his sauce-covered meat as a meal. 

The plan backfired. Bouki loved the hot sauce-covered meat. He then went out and told everyone in the town who delicious the sauce was and told them to visit ti-Malice's house to try it for themselves. 

There are seemingly as many variations on that Haitian legend, as there are recipes for the sauce. Generally speaking, the sauce consists of shallots, bell peppers, tomato paste, vinegar and, of course, scotch bonnet peppers for the heat. The ingredients are cooked together in a pot to produce the hot sauce. Some recipes suggest an additional step: blending the ingredients together to produce a smoother sauce. Whether one goes with a traditional sauce (keeping the ingredients whole, as pictured in this post) or blended, Sos ti-Malice is a great accompaniment for many traditional Haitian dishes, like Griot and Tassot.

For me, the most important thing about this recipe is its underlying lesson. Traditional Haitian hospitality is something that could make the world a better place. (If only Haitians currently had the space and the means to provide that hospitality, but that is another post, series of posts or even another blog entirely.) But, when we try to be anti-social, we could end up with more people at our door. So, perhaps, the better approach to life is to be more welcoming and more hospitable. We can expand our own communities at many different levels. And, we can start by welcoming Haitian immigrants and migrants (along with other immigrants and migrants) into our communities to live, and in our homes for a meal, rather than trying to get them to go away. 

SOS TI MALICE

Recipe from Kitchen Travels

Ingredients:

• 2 tablespoons oil
• 3 shallots thinly sliced
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 3 tablespoons tomato paste
• 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
• 1/2 green pepper sliced
• 2 Scotch Bonnet peppers, thinly sliced
• 3 cloves
• 1 tablespoon parsley, finely chopped
• 1 teaspoon salt

Ingredients:

1. Sauté the shallots and garlic. Heat the oil in a saucepan. Add the shallots and garlic. Saute until shallots are softened and translucent.

2. Continue preparing the sauce. Add tomato paste, vinegar and 2.5 cups of water. Whisk well to dissolve the tomato paste in the water and bring to a boil. Add the bell peppers, Scotch Bonnet peppers and cloves. Reduce heat to medium and simmer for 10 minutes.

3. Finish the sauce. Add parsley and salt. Stir to combine. 

PEACE.

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Seychelles

Seychelles is an interesting combination of the littlest and the greatest. The one hundred and fifty-five islands that comprise the country, which lie in the Indian Ocean, make Seychelles one of the smallest countries in Africa by square miles. The estimated 100,600 people who live on those islands makes the Seychelles the least populated country in Africa. Yet, Seychelles has the highest nominal gross domestic product (GDP) per capita of any African country, which means its residents have relatively the highest standard of living. It is also ranked the highest electoral democracy in Africa, and forty-third in the world. That is quite the combination for a country whose islands laid uninhabited prior to the 18th century.

The French were the first to occupy and claim the islands in 1756, naming them after Louis XV's Minister of Finance, Jean Moreau de Sechelles. As the French settled on the islands, they brought with them an order that was familiar in the colonial era. Helene Frichot, an architectural author, recounted this historical order in one of her essays:

Originally, when the French plantocracy settled, habitations -- strips of land - were marked from mountain peak to shore, parcelled out for the mostly large, conservative, Catholic families. These families assumed a certain order of things, divided strictly along lines of colour: those who owned and governed, and those obliged to labour. As Mairi O'Gorman argues in her research on the Seychelles, property, espeically when organised according to a plantation regime, is racialised: ownership assumes whiteness, while labor is delegated to Brown and Black people.

And, French settlers brought with them enslaved African men, women and children to work on these new plantations. The British Empire took control of the islands less than fifty years later, with the Treaty of Paris in 1814. The British allowed the use of enslaved Africans to continue, and they began to bring indentured servants from the Indian subcontinent and other parts of Asia to work on the islands. The result was a society that had French plantation owners, the British administrative elite, and a large number of African and Asian laborers, traders and shopkeepers. 

This mix of people and cultures on the islands led to the emergence of the Seychellois Creole, an ethnic group that combines African, Asian and European influences into one common identity with a language and culture of its own. The Seychellois Creole language, Seselwa, is rooted in French, but it has incorporated aspects of African and Malagasy languages, as wells as terms and phrases from English and Hindi. E, kot i konsern manze, lenfliyans Lafrik, Lazi e Eropeen is disifil pou manke. ("And, when it comes to food, the African, Asian and European influences are hard to miss." - My attempt at Seselwa using Google translate.)

Le Jardin du Roi, Mahe, Seychelles
(Source: Runaway Lodge)

As for Seychelles cuisine, its story can be told, in part, with reference to a garden, Le Jardin du Roi, that the French settlers started in 1772.  One of those colonists, Pierre Poivre, wanted to get into the spice trade. Poivre himself was quite the story. He spent his early years as a missionary, living in Cochinchina (later known as Vietnam), Guangzhou, and Macau. He left missionary work to join the French East Indies Company, where he presumably came into contact with the spice trade. By 1772, he was living between Mauritius and the Seychelles, and wanted those islands to be part of that trade. Poivre's entre into the spice word was not very Christian-like. He decided that he would set out on a vessel to Ceylon (now Sri Lanka) and the Moluccas (now part of Indonesia). His goal: to steal the spices and bring them back to French-controlled islands where they could be planted and then France could have its own source.  Poivre actually stole the spices and brought them back to the Seychelles. However, as Poivre returned from his voyage in 1780, the governor mistook Poivre's vessel for an enemy ship. The governor destroyed the growing garden. Spices were too valuable to have fall into the hands of the enemy. 

Le Jardin du Roi ultimately survived and grew into 25 hectares where more than 120 species of fruits and spices were cultivated. That variety is one of the defining characteristics of Seychellois Creole cuisine. Recipes use a range of spices, including chiles, cinnamon, cloves, ginger, nutmeg, turmeric, and much more. The cuisine also features a range of seafood dishes, which one would expect from an island nation. 

MAIN COURSE

This personal culinary challenge showcases a cuisine that reflects how influences from around the world come together in amazing dishes. The challenge involves the preparation of a Seychellois Octopus Curry. The cephalopods could be found around many of the islands, such as Cousine. That availability led to this curry, which is a popular dish in the Seychelles. 

This demand created a fishery for octopi in the Seychelles. Many look for the creatures around the coral barrier reefs, while others, like a fisherman named Dave Auguste, go further out into the ocean. Auguste has fished for octopus for more than twenty years. When the COVID pandemic hit, the tourist trade (which is important to the Seychelles) crashed, and so did the market for expensive seafood like octopus. As the world gradually reopened and tourists returned, so did the demand for octopus. 

Dave Auguste with his catch (Source: United Nations, Photo: Douglas Okwatch)

Dave Auguste found one longer lasting change ... there were less of the cephalopods to catch. This change is not the result of COVID, but other factors.  In an article published by the United Nations, Auguste explained: 

There are fewer and fewer octopuses now. Before, I used to find them close to shore, but now I have to go further out. Again, for the last ten years or so, going out to sea has become more complicated because the sea has become rougher and the currents stronger. If I am not careful I can drift away from shore.

Indeed, climate change has affected the work of those who fish the waters around the Seychelles.  Auguste explained that there has been a change in rain patterns: "we used to have rainy periods that lasted several days, now it rains the same amount for one day and it all runs off into the sea." The prolonged rains and the runoff cause the waters close to shore to take on a reddish hue. The octopi do not like the tinged water and move further offshore. An additional factor is that, due to warming temperatures in the sea, there are some areas of the barrier reefs where up to 90% of the coral have died.

Not all of the news is bad. The Seychelles has taken proactive steps to stem the damage caused by changes in the climate. These steps include imposing quotas on seafood catches, expanding the range of protected marine areas, and implementing reef restoration projects. This has required some adjustment and adaptation, especially for those who work in the seafood industry, which makes up 27% of the Seychelles gross domestic product. This sacrifice, as well as, the conservation efforts, may not be enough if the climate continues to change. 

Turning to the challenge, I have prepared whole octopus in the past, but I decided for this dish that I would use pre-cooked octopus, which is available online or from some warehouse stores. Each package usually has 2-3 large tentacles, which may be less than a kilogram but still enough to prepare a meal for at least 2-3 people. The pre-cooked octopus also saves a lot of time (basically you can skip step 1). 

OCTOPUS CURRY

Recipe from Tourism Seychelles

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 kilogram octopus
• Salt
• Pepper
• Fresh coconut milk (substitute 1 can coconut milk or cream)
• 2 teaspoons saffron
• 1 onion
• Fresh thyme
• 3 garlic cloves
• Ginger (a little bit)
• 1 teaspoon curry powder (or to taste)
• Cinnamon sticks
• Curry Leaves
• Oil

Directions:

1. Prepare the octopus. Add the octopus to a pot and fill it with water. Boil until tender, about 45 minutes to 1 hour depending upon the size. Use a fork to check if the octopus is soft enough. Once the octopus is done, cut it into pieces

2. Prepare the curry. In a saucepan, add the oil, onion, garlic, ginger, saffron, curry powder, cinnamon sticks, thyme, salt and pepper. Mix and the add the octopus pieces. Fry the octopus pieces for a few minutes and then add the coconut milk and stir. Cover the saucepan and let it simmer for 15 to 20 minutes, as the sauce thickens. 

3. Finish the dish. Once cooked, serve with some white rice, lentils and papaya chutney. 

SIDE DISH

Ordinarily, as noted above, one would prepare white rice to serve with an octopus curry. Seychellois cuisine is known for its creole rice, a dish that is shared -- in some common form -- by creole cultures around the world. Rice is a staple food in the Seychelles, often accompanying main dishes. Yet, cultivation of rice cannot occur on a large enough scale on the islands to support its population. (Indeed, while the Seychelles may have an abundance of spices and access to seafood, it actually imports much of its other food.) Most of the rice comes from India, with smaller amounts imported from countries such as Pakistan, the United Arab Emirates, France and South Africa.

This personal culinary challenge gave me an opportunity to prepare creole rice and, to do so using the wide range of spices drawn from the subcontinent and southeastern Asia. The recipe shows that diversity with garlic, ginger, bay leaf, cinnamon, cloves, pepper and turmeric. I knew that I had to prepare this dish, which I served alongside the octopus curry.

SEYCHELLES CREOLE RICE

Recipe from Amy's Cooking Adventures

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 2 tablespoons butter
• 1/2 red bell pepper diced (about 1/3 cup)
• 1/2 onion diced (about 1/3 cup)
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1/2 teaspoon turmeric powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1 bay leaf
• Pinch of ground cinnamon
• Pinch of ground cloves
• 1/2 cup basmati rice
• 1 cup water
• Fresh parsley to garnish

Directions:

1. Saute the vegetables. Melt the butter in a saucepan over medium heat. Add the bell pepper and onion and cook for 5 minutes. Add the garlic, spices and rice and cook for another minute. Stir in the water and bring to a low boil. 

2. Finish the dish. Cover, reduce heat to low, and simmer for 15-20 minutes or until the water is absorbed. Fluff the rice, garnish with parsley and serve. 

*          *          *

To be honest, I had not expected to do a personal culinary challenge involving the Seychelles. I had previously done one for Mauritius, when I prepared an amazing duck curry. However, I really wanted to prepare this octopus curry and that led me to add this to the Around the World in 80 Dishes challenge. It is a decision that I will never regret, because it opened a door to exploring a creole culture and cuisine that draws inspiration from the diverse populations that have come to live on the Seychelles islands.  

Each of these dishes was a success, and, perhaps, some of the best dishes that I have prepared in recent weeks. This challenge has inspired me to move on to the next one. Check back to see where I end up. Until then ... 

PEACE.

Vindaloo Wings

If one was to look for a dry rub recipe for buffalo wings, they would most likely find a lot of commonality in the recipes. That commonality draws inspiration from Mexico (such as the use of ancho chile powder) or barbecue (with the use of smoked paprika, brown sugar and other ingredients). Those recipes may produce some very tasty wings,  but I want to go down a different path with dry rub wings. 

That is when I got to thinking of creating a dry rub that draws its inspiration from curries. More specifically, curries from India. Even more particularly, a particular curry that is symbolic of Goa. That curry is the fiery vindaloo. 

Typically, vindaloo is a sauce-based curry, with strong vinegar notes and a very spicy kick. There are a lot of recipes for a vindaloo paste, which could work well with buffalo wings. (I have used the paste in the past.) But, I wanted an even simpler preparation: just a spice mix.  

I found a basic spice mix that incorporates many of the spices that find their way into a vindaloo. These spices include chiles (of course), along with cardamom, cumin, coriander, cloves, and cardamom. The one spice that was missing, but which could usually be found in a vindaloo recipe, is turmeric. I could live without the use of the golden spice on this one occasion. 

One last note about this recipe, the chiles used in the spice mix are Kashmiri chiles. Those chiles are not as piquant as the chiles that would typically be used in a vindaloo. Goan dishes are well known for their use of the peri-peri chile, a very spicy chile introduced by Portuguese explorers and colonialists to the subcontinent. Kashmiri chiles have their own kick, which will probably be more appealing to people who do not ordinarily eat very spicy wings. 

VINDALOO DRY RUB WINGS

Spice mix recipe from Ministry of Curry

Serves 3-4

Ingredients:

• 1 pound chicken wings, drumettes and flats
• 1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
• 2 teaspoons cumin seeds
• 2 teaspoons coriander seeds
• 20 black peppercorns
• 4 green cardamom seeds
• 4 cloves
• 1 inch cinnamon stick
• 8 dried Kashmiri chiles

Directions:

1.    Prepare the dry rub. Add all the spices to a dry frying pan and lightly toast until aromatic, about 2-3 minutes. Transfer the spices to a plate to cool completely. Grind the spices in a spice grinder to make a fine powder.

2.    Prepare the wings. Add the wings to a bowl and add the apple cider vinegar. Toss the wings in the vinegar until they are coated. Then add the dry rub and toss until all the wings are well coated with the spice mixgture. 

3.    Cook the wings. Heat an oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Lay out the wings on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Place the wings in the oven and cook for about 25 minutes or until the wings reach an internal temperature of 165 degrees Fahrenheit. Remove from the oven, allow the wings to cool for about 5 minutes and then serve immediately. 

ENJOY!

Ceylon Curry of Oysters

This recipe is a reminder that we have the British to blame for what is known as "curry." (I say that half-sarcastically, half-seriously.) The word "curry" is the anglicized version of kari, a word from the Tamil language for "sauce" or "relish for rice." The British used the word "curry" to describe basically every sauce and every relish for rice. They used the word not just for those dishes in India, but also for dishes made in a similar fashion across the British empire. 

The point is that, by lumping everything together as "curry," one takes away the individuality of the underlying dishes and the cuisines from which they originate. A "curry" from the subcontinent (such as from India or Sri Lanka) is different than a curry from Southeast Asia (such as from Thailand or Vietnam). Curries also differ significantly within countries, such as from Uttar Pradesh to Tamil Nadu in India or among the different ethnic minorities of Myanmar. 

Another aspect of westernization is apparent in the recipes themselves, in which the authors substitute more readily available ingredients for those used by the locals. This substitution was done perhaps out of necessity (as some ingredients were not available to western cooks) or a misunderstanding of the ingredients.

All of these thoughts are embodied in this recipe, Ceylon Curry of Oysters. The recipe originated with a person named Darmadasa, who worked at the East India Curry shop, which was located on East 57th Street in New York City. I used the past tense because both Darmadasa and the shop could be found on East 57th Street in the late 1930s, long before the emergence of Whole Foods, BLT Steak, or Mr. Chow. Darmadasa's recipe became public through a newspaper article written by Charlotte Hughes. Ms. Hughes declared that, "everybody in India, apparently, eats curry." She added that, while curries are difficult to make, "American cooks with pioneering spirits can master curry dishes." 

Hughes included some recipes with her article, including this oyster curry. Yet, as some have noted, her recipe had been Westernized, with substitutions of ingredients that would not have been used by Sri Lankan cooks. For instance, Hughes included "green pepper" in her recipe (most likely a reference to the bell pepper). However, the "green pepper" used by Sri Lankan cooks would have been more likely one of the more piquant varieties, such as a serrano pepper or a Thai (bird's eye) chile. She also called for the use of butter (in place of coconut oil), bay leaves (in place of curry leaves or pandan leaves) and "curry powder" (as opposed to identifying the various spices that would be included in making the masala).  

I made the Charlotte Hughes' Westernized version of Darmadasa's recipe. However, I added a few of my own changes to that recipe. The first change is a nod to the recipe's Sri Lankan roots. I substituted "curry powder" with roasted curry powder, which is, as far as I can tell, an ingredient that is unique to Sri Lankan curries. The second change goes to the method by which the oysters are "cooked" in the curry." The original recipe calls for the oysters to be placed in the curry and cooked for 3 to 4 minutes. That will cause the oysters to shrink and, depending upon the size of the oyster, may result in tough, chewy, little nuggets. I decided that I would add the oysters at the very end of the cooking process. By adding the oysters at this time, I rely upon the residual heat in the curry liquid. The oysters will not be completely raw, but they will also not be completely cooked. Such a result is fine given that oyster can be eaten raw.   

CEYLON CURRY OF OYSTERS

Recipe adapted from New York Times Cooking

Serves 2-3

Ingredients:

• 2 tablespoons butter or coconut oil
• 4 small shallots, finely chopped
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1/2 serrano chile or Thai chile, seeded and minced
• 1 tablespoon roasted curry powder
• 1 large pinch turmeric
• 1 cinnamon stick
• 3 cloves
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 cup coconut milk
• Salt
• 12 oysters, shucked, liquor reserved
• Juice of 1/2 lemon

Directions:

1.  Saute the shallots, garlic and chiles. In a medium saucepan over medium heat, melt the butter. Add the shallots, garlic and chiles, and saute until softened and starting to brown, about 2 to 3 minutes. Stir in the curry powder, turmeric, cinnamon stick, cloves and bay leaf. Cook for 1 minute. 

2. Saute the oysters. Reduce the heat to low and add the coconut milk and 1/2 teaspoon of salt. Simmer for 3 minutes. Add the oyster and their liquor; simmer until the oysters are just firm, 3 to 4 minutes. Take the pan off heat and add the lemon juice and salt to taste. Serve over rice or on hoppers.