Molho a Campanha

The "rule of three" takes many forms, including as a literary device. In this particular form, the rule represents an understanding that people better remember and understand concepts when presented in groups of three. It is the pattern -- and it takes at least three of something to create one -- that fixates itself in the human brain.  If one pays attention to the numbers in any method of communication, then they will be surprised how often words and concepts appear in groups of three. 

In many respects, food is a form of communication. The term, communication, can be defined (ironically) as a duality: the process by which we understand the world and the means (verbal or nonverbal) by which we convey that understanding to others. Food thus becomes a way that we communicate amongst ourselves; and, in doing so, it is one of the fundamental means by which we create cultures, whether through personal identity or group association. 

These concepts unfolded before me as I was preparing molho a campanha, which is basically a vinaigrette sauce prepared to accompany grilled dishes in Brazil. While the word molho translates from Portuguese to English as a "sauce," what I was preparing looked more like a salsa. The ingredients -- tomatoes, onions, and peppers -- confirmed that fact. Those three ingredients got me thinking about all of the other recipes that I have made from around the world where tomatoes, onions, and peppers (or chiles) constitute the basis of the dish. Indeed, if one looked at a basic pico de gallo (or salsa) from Mexico, its core ingredients are tomatoes, onions and peppers. Sometimes, they are the foundation of the dish, followed by the addition of other ingredients that results in a larger presentation. Sometimes, they are the dish, as is the case with pico de gallo or this molho. 

As with any means of communication, it can be used to bring people together, but it can also be used to differentiate. For example, a pico de gallo in Mexico is typically prepared with the addition of a citrus juice, such as lime juice; however, the molho a campanha is prepared with vinegar. The vinegar is better suited for flavoring and tenderizing grilled meats, such as beef, chicken and even fish (as the recipe below will attest). Such differences are minor, and, to most people, go unnoticed. They are more likely to note, as I did, the use of three -- tomatoes, onions and peppers -- and its similarity with other dishes that they have eaten. And, they are more likely to think about other groups of three, which, for me, gets me thinking about sofritos, mirepoix and the Cajun/Creole "holy trinity." All of those may be posts for a later date.

MOLHO A CAMPANHA

Recipe from Serious Eats

Serves 4 

Ingredients:

• 1 large tomato, cored, seeded and cut into 1/4 inch dice (about 3/4 cup)
• Kosher salt
• 1/2 red onion, diced (about 1 cup)
• 1/2 green bell pepper, stemmed, seeded and diced (about 3/4 cup)
• 1/2 red bell pepper, stemmed, seeded and diced (about 3/4 cup)
• 2 tablespoons chopped cilantro leaves and tender stems
• 2 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley leaves and tender stems
• 2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
• 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for oiling fish
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 2 pounds whole fish, such as branzino, mackerel or trout, scaled or gutted

Directions:

1. Prepare the tomatoes. Season tomatoes with 1 teaspoon of salt and toss to combine. Transfer to a fine mesh strainer or colander set in a bowl to allow to drain for 20 to 30 minutes. Discard liquid.

2. Prepare molho. In a medium bowl, stir together tomatoes, red onion, green pepper, red pepper, cilantro, parsley, vinegar and olive oil. Season with salt and pepper. Let molho stand for at least 30 minutes, or refrigerate for up to 24 hours. Return to room temperature before serving.

3. Prepare the grill. About 30 minutes before grilling, remove fish from refrigerator and let come to room temperature. Light one chimney full of charcoal. When all the charcoal is lit and covered with gray ash, pour out and spread coals evenly over half of coal grate. Alternatively set half of the burners of a gas grill to high heat. Set cooking grate in place. Cover and grill and allow to preheat for 5 minutes. Clean and oil the grilling grate.

4.  Prepare the fish. Thoroughly pat fish dry with paper towels. Season inside and out with salt and pepper. Rub fish all over with olive oil. 

5. Grill the fish. Set fish over hot side of grill and cook until bottom sides are browned, about 5 minutes. Using a carving fork (the tines of which can slide down between the grill grate) or a thin metal spatula, carefully attempt to lift fish from below; if it resists, allow to cook for 1 more minute and try again. When fish lifts easily from grill, turn onto other side and cook until an instant-read thermometer inserted into the thickest part registers 135 degrees Fahrenheit, about 5 minutes longer. If the skin begins to char before the fish is cooked through, transfer fish to the cooler side of the grill to finish cooking. Let the fish rest for 5 minutes.

6. Finish the dish. Serve the fish with the molho spooned over top.

ENJOY!

Fish Curry

Whenever I prepare a dish, I always have expectations. I have greater expectations when it comes to my favorite cuisine. I am a huge fan of south Asian cuisine. When asked for more specificity, my initial response is Sri Lankan cuisine (usually with an add-on that I also love the cuisine from Tamil Nadu and Kerala). The cuisine is fiery, due to the use of various chiles. It is also curry-based. Taken together, that is where my preferences are at the moment. 

As readers of this blog know, I have made many a curry recipe, sambol or other dish from this part of the world. Those recipes and dishes have created certain expectations whenever I pull a new recipe from a cookbook off of the shelf or print one off of the Internet. Those expectations include a fiery meal, fueled by the use of fresh chiles or piquant curry powders, along with a certain umami that comes from unfamiliar ingredients, like Maldive fish chips, or a particular combination of herbs and spices. 

Recently, I had the urge to make a fish curry. Often times, those curries end up being Chef Bolek Originals, like this one or this one. They basically represent an effort to use what I have learned over time making curries and then just "wing it." This time, the urge was different. I wanted to make a fish curry that more closely followed the lines of a cuisine. The cuisine that first came to mind was, of course, Sri Lanka. And, I had just the cookbook, Lanka Food.

I reviewed the recipe and prepared my grocery list. I then went to my local Asian grocery store to get the ingredients that I did not have on hand, like curry leaves, pandan leaves and coconut cream. I proceeded to make this dish according to the recipe. However, in the end, the dish was not what I had expected. 

Indeed, the dish challenged my expectations. Do all Sri Lankan dishes have to burn with the intensity of a blue flame? Even when I try to make the dish spicy, such as grabbing my hot curry powder instead of my regular curry powder, does that mean that the dish itself should change? It got me to thinking that, whenever I try to be mindful and in the moment, I also have to go one step further with my mind. Namely, I have to approach the present moment with an open mind.

Looking back, and setting aside my expectations, I can say that this particular fish curry dish is very good, even if it is not all that spicy. It is an acknowledgement that there is more to Sri Lankan cuisine than the Scoville-busting curries. That is a good thing to remember. 

FISH CURRY

Recipe from O Tama Carey, Lanka Food, pg. 162

Serves 4-6

Ingredients:

• 500 grams skinless and boneless snapper fillets (or other firm white fish)
• 40 grams coconut oil (or ghee or vegetable oil)
• 4 grams curry leaves
• 220 grams sliced brown onions (or yellow onions)
• 20 grams finely chopped garlic
• 15 grams finely chopped ginger
• 15 grams finely chopped lemongrass, white part only
• 1 long green chile, cut into thin rounds
• 30 grams brown curry powder
• 8 grams fennel seeds
• 4 grams fenugreek seeds
• 40 ml coconut cream
• 4 x 5 pieces pandan leaf
• Salt flakes
• Freshly ground black pepper

Directions:

1. Prepare the fish. Slice the fish into bite sized pieces. Much will depend upon the size of the fillet, but try to make the slices about 1/2 inch thick. Cut them into similar sized pieces. Set aside in the refrigerator.

2. Saute the initial ingredients. Melt the coconut oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat, add the curry leaves and cook, stirring, for a minute or so until the leaves are fried. Add the onion, garlic, ginger, lemongrass, and chile and lightly season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally for 6-7 minutes until the onion has softened. 

3. Continue the saute. Add the curry powder and fennel and fenugreek seeds and cook, stirring for 1-2 minutes until the curry powder begins to catch the bottom of the pan. Season again. Add the coconut cream, pandan leaf and 500 ml of water and bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer gently until everything is cook and you can no longer taste a sharpness from the ginger. 

4. Cook the fish. Add the fish pieces and simmer gently until cooked. The cooking time will depend upon the size of the pieces but start checking from about 5 minutes. Taste the curry and season as needed.

PEACE.

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Colombia

"In Colombian cuisine, every dish tells a story."

-- Harry Sasson (Colombian chef)

This part of my journey around the world in eighty (80) dishes takes me to the South American country of Colombia. The above quote from one of the most famous Colombian chefs, Harry Sasson, represents my starting point. It is an acknowledgement that, in Colombia, cuisine represents more than just food on a plate. Instead, to borrow someone else's words, it is "a narrative of tradition, culture and love passed down the generations." I can't believe a better way to start a culinary adventure.

This personal culinary challenge presents an opportunity to learn about some of those stories. The thing is, there are a lot of them to tell. Colombia is in many ways a "melting pot," in which many cultures -- both indigenous and non-indigenous -- have flourished in a range of environments, from the coastlines of the Caribbean Sea and the Pacific Ocean to the heights of the Andes Mountains and back down into the marshlands of the Orinoquia region or the forests of the Amazon. This wide range of people and places gives rise to an equally diverse set of cuisines.

For some background, Colombia is generally divided into six regions. Those regions are Caribe, Pacifico, Andres, Orinoquia, Amazonia, and Insular. The map to the right shows each of those regions. 

At first, I wanted to tell the stories of the indigenous people of Colombia, such as the Guambiano and Muisca peoples. That would take me to the Andes region of Colombia. Thoughts of stories about corn, potatoes, quinoa and beans started running through my mind. I have to admit that I encountered some difficulty in finding indigenous recipes that I could use to prepare the dishes. 

Given this difficulty, I decided to shift my focus from inland to the coastal regions. I decided to research and learn about both of Colombia's coastal regions: Caribe and Pacifico. (Perhaps also the Insular region, which happens to consist of islands in both the Caribbean Sea and the Pacific Ocean.) So, basically, this post will try to tell Colombian stories around seafood. 

APPETIZER

I decided to start with perhaps one of the lesser told stories of Colombia. It's neighbors, Ecuador and Peru, are well known for their tuna fisheries. Indeed, one city in Ecuador -- Manta -- boasts of the name, Tuna Capital of the World, because it has some of the highest tuna landings of any port on the Pacific Ocean. Much of the catch is yellowfin or skipjack tuna, with some bluefin tuna. Yet, Ecuador shares the Pacific coastline with Colombia. The thing is that Colombia's fishery is far less developed than its neighbors. For one thing, there are far less ports, and even less ports of substantial size, along the Pacific Coastline in Colombia. 

Yet, the waters boast of one of the more notable fish migrations: millions of sardines make a journey down the Pacific coastline from Panama south along Colombia.  As one would expect, that sizeable migration would attract the attention of others, namely predators. One of those predators happens to be the yellowfin tuna. The yellowfin provide a sustainable fishery for Colombians. As Matt Harris described the experience, being on the waters off of Colombia looking to fish yellowfin tuna: 

We scanned the water expectantly, rods at the ready and line stripped on the deck. Just as Jose predicted, we didn't have to wait long. Suddenly they were all around. Yellowfin. Everywhere. The feeding activity was astonishing. Everywhere we looked there were myriad busts as if dozens of hand-grenades were being thrown around the boat. The water was literally churning with activity, as hundreds of tuna fizzed through the waves like supercharged torpedoes, slicing through the bait-ball in a frenetic blizzard of mayhem and slaughter.

I strongly recommend reading the entire article, which was published in the magazine In the Loop, and which was very interesting. 

This story provides the opening to my first dish, an appetizer that features yellowfin tuna. The method of preparation is not so much Colombian, but it definitely draws its inspiration from the cuisine. The dish is Tomates Rellenos de Atun, or Stuffed Tomatoes with Tuna. 

TOMATES RELLENOS DE ATUN

Recipe from My Colombian Recipes

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1-2 cans (6 ounces of tuna)
• 1/8 cup chopped onion (red or yellow)
• 1/8 cup chopped red bell pepper
• 1/8 teaspoon salt
• 1/8 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 tablespoon lime juice
• 1/4 cup mayonnaise
• 1/2 cup mixed corn, diced carrots, peas
• 1 tablespoon chopped parsley, plus more for garnish
• 4 medium sized tomatoes, cored and seeded
• Lettuce leaves, for serving (optional)

Directions:

1. Prepare the filling. In a medium bowl, combine all of the ingredients, except the tomatoes and lettuce. Cover and chill for 1 hour.

2. Finish the dish. To serve, line a large plate with lettuce leaves, spoon tuna salad into tomatoes and garnish with chopped parsley. Arrange the tomatoes on top of the lettuce leaves and serve. 

MAIN COURSE

While I could have stayed along the Pacifico region of Colombia for my culinary challenge, I decided to "travel" to the other coastline, along the Caribbean Sea. This coastline is dotted with port cities like Cartagena, Barranquilla, and Santa Marta. The challenge requires me to prepare Cazuela de Mariscos, a dish with perhaps a few stories. One of them would take me across the ocean to Spain, where seafood stews abound in a country with 3,084 miles (4,964 kilometers) or coastline. By contrast, Colombia has only 1,800 miles (2,900 kilometers). 

However, I want to stay in Colombia, so I look for stories in places like Cartagena or Santa Marta. In the latter city, there is a place where people talk about some of the best seafood stews or casseroles around.  It is Plaza San Francisco. Vendors sell the stews in pots. But, the story actually begins early in the morning, when they gather the ingredients together at their homes, prepare the dish, and cook it over a wood fire. When the stew or casserole is ready, then they head to the plaza to sell their food to locals and tourists alike. 

A cazuela de mariscos is prepared with seafood that is local to the area, although that typically includes clams, shrimp and white fish. The recipe typically calls for the use of coconut milk and, in some cases, heavy cream. I decided to skip on the heavy cream for health reasons, but I saw that other recipes incorporated seafood stock and/or water. So, I used some of the stock from steaming the clams, along with some water. 

CAZUELA DE MARISCOS

Recipe adapated from My Colombian Recipes and Travel Food Atlas

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 tablespoon butter
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1/2 cup chopped green pepper
• 1/2 cup chopped red bell pepper
• 1 cup chopped onion
• 2 fresh garlic cloves minced
• 1 cup grated carrot
• 1/2 teaspoon paprika
• 1 can (13.5 ounces) coconut milk
• 1/2 cup white wine
• 4 cups heavy cream (I substituted clam stock and water)
• 2 pounds of jumbo shrimp, peeled and deveined
• 12 littleneck clams, scrubbed
• 2 pounds white fish, cut into 1 inch pieces
• 1 tablespoon fresh parsley or cilantro
• 1 tablespoon tomato paste

Directions:

1. Sauté the vegetables. In a large saucepan over medium heat, warm the olive oil and butter. Add the garlic, red pepper, garlic, green pepper and carrots and sauté, until tender and translucent, about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add salt and pepper

2. Continue to prepare the stew. Add the cream and coconut milk. Bring to a boil. Add the seafood and cover, reduce the heat and cook about 2 minutes until the clams open. Remove from the heat, discard any open shells. 

3. Finish the dish. Add the wine and tomato paste, simmer for about 20 minutes. Garnish with fresh cilantro or parsley. 

*    *    *

It has definitely been a while since I did my last personal culinary challenge (which was The Gambia). This particular challenge went well; but more importantly, as much as I enjoyed preparing this meal, I also enjoyed researching the cuisine of Colombia. I think that I will be paying future "visits" to this country, so that I can try to prepare foods from other regions, like the Andes and the Amazon. Until then ...

PEACE.

St. Helena Fish Cakes

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

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

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

Saints (source: St. Helena Info)

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

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

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

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

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

ST. HELENA FISH CAKES

Recipe from Aberdeen News

Serves 4

Ingredients:

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

Directions:

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

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

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

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

PEACE.

The Long History Told by Bones

Salmon are an intrinsic part of us. They're in our blood. They're in our being.

- Hereditary Chief Don Svanvik, 

Namgis First Nation, 

Alert Bay, British Columbia

Recently, an online article caught my eye. The article's title was "Salmon Bones Confirm Sustainable Chum Fishery for 2,500 Years Under Tsleil-Waututh Nation."  That title represented a ray of light, a little bit of good news, that brightened what is becoming an otherwise dark picture.

It seems - to me at least - that much about what I have been reading about Pacific salmon has ranged from bad to ominous. This sense seems particularly the case for the salmon in the Pacific Northwest.  For example, a report in 2019 found that, while the preliminary forecasts for chum salmon in the Puget Sound hovered around 550,000 fish, the actual amount may have been more along the lines of 243,000 fish. That statistic is particularly alarming given that the chum salmon has traditionally been the most abundant of all the different types of salmon. 

There are many reasons for the population declines. At first, the culprit was overfishing in the 19th and 20th centuries. The loss in fish numbers was compounded by the loss of their habitat, which was primarily due to the construction of dams that blocked the rivers used by the salmon, along with the timber industry, which damaged the rivers and streams.  And then there is climate change and, in particular, the warming of the Pacific Ocean. As it turns out, just a few degrees of increased temperatures can have a significant impact on salmon populations. As the oceans warm, it favors subtropical zooplankton, which are not eaten by juvenile salmon. Warmer water also has less oxygen, making it harder for the fish to breath.

Yet, this is all the bad news; and, I started out this post noting a ray of light. Research has shown that one of the Salish peoples of the Pacific Northwest - the Tsleil-Waututh - have a long history of managing the chum salmon populations where they live. The story actually explains that the Tsleil-Waututh have a much longer history of managing that important resource.

Archeologists had already known that the Tsleil-Waututh, who live in the Burraud tribal territory, have been sustainably fishing chum salmon for about 1,200 years, from approximately 400 BCE to 1200 A.D. However, recent finds at an archeological site at təmtəmíxʷtən, a very important site for the Tseleil-Waututh, have revealed that this fishery has existed for an additional 1,300 years. This history is important because of one fact: chum salmon are especially vulnerable to overfishing. 

This story has led me to think about how we develop our guidelines for sustainability. Often times, those guidelines are dictated from the top down, from the government to the people, with a healthy disdain for guidelines coming from the reverse direction. As long as people are motivated by capitalistic desires, such as the private ownership of resources and maximizing profit for personal gain, that disdain is warranted. But, what if the people are motivated by something else. What if, like the Tsleil-Waututh, the people are motivated by preserving the resources for future generations to enjoy. Resources that are able to thrive in a larger, more balanced ecosystem. 

All of the foregoing also got me thinking about the salmon recipes that I have made over the years. This is perhaps my most favorite recipe on my blog: 

COPPER RIVER SALMON WITH AN ORANGE-SAFFRON SAUCE

Adapted from recipe by Hunter Angler Gardener Cook

Serves 4

Ingredients for the Orange-Saffron Sauce:

1/2 cup of white wine

1/2 cup orange juice

A healthy pinch of saffron, crumbled

A healthy pinch of sugar

1 shallot, minced
Salt
2 tablespoons of unsalted butter

Ingredients (for the fish and greens):
1 1/2 pounds of tender spring greens, such as spinach
5 tablespoons of unsalted butter or vegetable oil, divided
A splash of water (no more than 3 tablespoons)
Grated zest of an orange
1 1/2 pounds of Copper River Salmon (or any wild salmon)

Directions:

1.  Make the Orange-Saffron Sauce.  Make the sauce by bringing the white wine, orange juice, saffron, sugar and shallot to a boil in a small pot.  Simmer strongly for 5 minutes, then turn off the heat and puree the sauce in a blender.  Return the sauce to the pot and turn the heat to low.  Add salt to taste and keep warm, but do not boil it or simmer it any further.

2.  Make the Greens.  Cook the greens in 2 tablespoons of butter or oil over high heat in a large saute pan, stirring constantly until they wilt. Add a splash of water, the orange zest and some salt and cover the pot. Lower the heat to medium-low and steam the greens for 2 minutes. Turn off the heat.

3.  Sear the salmon.  Heat the remaining butter in a pan large enough to hold the fish.  (If you don’t have such a pan, put a baking sheet in the oven and set the oven to 200 degrees Fahrenheit so you can keep the fish warm as you do this in batches.)  Heat the butter over high heat until it stops frothing. Pat the fish dry with paper towels and set it skin-side down in the hot butter. Turn the heat down to medium-high for a typical fillet  or to medium if you are working with a thicker piece of fish.

4.  Continue cooking the salmon.  Let the fish cook undisturbed for 2 minutes, then use a large spoon to baste the meat side of the fish with the hot butter. Baste the salmon for 90 seconds, then give it a rest. A thin fillet will only need one quick basting, but thicker pieces of fish will need a second or even third round of basting.  It took about four to five rounds of basting for the fillets that I had.  When the basting is done, salt the meat side. The skin side should lift off the pan easily after about 4 to 5 minutes of steady cooking. The moment you take the fish off the heat, salt the skin side.

5.  Finish the dish.  To serve, swirl in the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter into the sauce, one tablespoon at a time. Pour some sauce on everyone’s plate. Top with the greens and then with a piece of fish. Serve immediately.

OTHER DELICIOUS SALMON RECIPES TO TRY

If you are looking for other recipes to honor the salmon and its place in the foodways of different cultures, or if you are just looking for a delicious recipe, I suggest these possibilities:

Smoked Sockeye Salmon: This is about as close as I can get to trying to pay homage to how Native Americans and First Nations would prepare their catches. You can check out the post and learn about the Legend of the Lost Salmon. This is one of the recipes that I wish I made more often, if only I had the time and the memory to remind myself. 

"Imperial" King Salmon: This dish features king salmon grilled on an alder plank. It also features a crab imperial over the top. The imperial literally places this dish over the top. 

Cedar Plank Salmon: This recipe was truly an educational experience for me. The "smothering" of the salmon with onions serves an important purpose. The water in the onions help to keep the salmon moist.

Pike's Place Salmon Burgers: The final recipe comes from one of my Super Bowl parties, when I prepared a dish from the city of one of the Super Bowl contenders. Back in 2014, that contender was the Seattle Seahawks. So, I prepared a salmon burger recipe that comes from the city's iconic Pike's Place market. 

These are just some of the salmon recipes on this blog. If you want to see the other posts, just click on "Salmon" in the word cloud in "What's in my Fridge + Pantry." Until next time, 

ENJOY!

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Republic of the Marshall Islands

The Marshall Islands, also known as Jolet jen Anij to the Marshallese (which translates as "Gifts from God"), consists of five islands and twenty-nine atolls (totaling sixty-six square miles in land) in the Micronesia region of the Pacific Ocean. At first glance, the country is beautiful, with the palm trees swaying in the breeze as blue ocean waves lap the sandy shore. However, this beauty belies a dark past. It is a past that still haunts the country's citizens to this day. But even the legacy of the past pales in comparison to the threats to the country and its citizens posed by the future. 

This particular Around the World in 80 Dishes challenge is more than just a culinary one: the dishes are relatively easy to make. The real challenge is coming to grips with this country's history: past, present and future. 

The history of the Marshall Islands goes all the way back to the 2nd millennium BCE, when Micronesians first settled on the islands and the atolls. There is very little known about this history, except that the people who lived on the islands were largely self-sufficient. They grew fruits (bananas, breadfruit), taro, vegetables and other crops. There was also an abundance of coconut trees. The Marshallese also fished the oceans (the Marshallese have over fifty phrases and words in their native tongue for various fishing techniques). This self-sufficiency continued into the twentieth century, as the islands and atolls passed from Spanish control to German control and then to Japanese control. However the self-sufficiency of the Marshallese people declined significantly with the arrival of the Americans.

The Bombs at Bikini and Beyond

The United States made an ask (or, perhaps better phrased, a demand) of the Marshallese people: to use their islands and atolls to test nuclear weapons. The United States evacuated the Marshallese who lived on the Bikini Atoll. These people went from an atoll with 2.32 square miles of land and 229.4 square miles of lagoon to Rongerik, which consists of .65 square miles of land and 55.28 square miles of lagoon.  A similar fate awaited the Marshallese on Enewetak Atoll, who were moved to another atoll that was 25% of the size of their home and had only 25 square miles of lagoon, as opposed to the 390 miles of lagoon where they lived.

Credit: Bettman/Getty Images

From 1946 to 1958, the United States tested sixty-seven nuclear bombs on the atolls of the Marshall Islands.  The destructive impact was far beyond what was experienced at Hiroshima or Nagasaki. Basically, the impact can be described as dropping twelve bombs of the size that were dropped on Hiroshima each and every day for twelve years. The tests left the atolls of Bikini, Eneweak, Rongelap, and Utirik devastated and much of the remaining islands and atolls contaminated. This legacy has also affected the health of the Marshallese.

As President Truman once remarked, it was "for the good of all mankind and to end all wars." Except it was not good at all for the Marshallese. This displacement resulted in the malnourishment of the Marshallese, who were forced to live on less land with less resources. Indeed, eventually one-half of the population ended up living in the capital, Majuro. The concentration and urbanization of the Marshallese became the drivers that undermined the self-sufficiency of the indigenous people, causing them to rely more and more on imported food. 

A Paradise of Processed Food

Credit: Neil Sands, AFP/Getty Images

For those who lived in the small, densely populated urban centers, such as Majuro (as opposed to those who lived on outlying atolls), their diet consisted less of locally grown fruits or locally grown seafood. Instead, their diet began to feature imported foods such as Spam, canned corned beef, and other "variety meats" like turkey tails and pig intestines. It also included much more white rice, ramen, popsicles and sweet beverages.  Nearly 80% to 90% of all food calories consumed by the Marshallese who live in Majuro comes from less than healthy, imported food. (By contrast, those Marshallese who still live on outlying islands still consume between 50% to 75% of their food calories from locally obtained foods.) All of these statistics come from 2008; however, the situation has not improved over the years.

The importation of processed food has had its impact on the Marshallese. Diabetes has become a serious issue among the Marshallese. As of 2008, overwhelming majorities of Marshallese were overweight, and significant numbers had type 2 diabetes. The type-2 diabetes rate in the Marshall Islands is around 23%, far exceeding the rates in the United States (13%) and globally (9%).  The combination of white rice, with fatty meats, canned seafood, salty snacks and sweet beverages, are believed to be the culprits. These imported foods, which are cheaper than locally produced vegetables or caught seafood, have created this health crisis in the Marshall Islands. 

Thus, the culinary history of the Marshall Islands has been severely and negatively impacted by its political history with the United States. While a substantial amount of work has been done to improve the diet of the Marshallese, the country still suffers from high rates of type 2 diabetes. However, that political history still hangs over the islands, as the majority of the population remains in densely populated areas while many of their homes - such as those who lived on the Bikini atoll - remain off limits. 

I spent a lot of time with this challenge focusing on the theme. In the end, I decided to direct that focus not only on traditional foods, but also on the positive. The appetizer illustrates the positive work undertaken by the Marshallese to take control of their situations. The main course - and, my culinary challenge - turns to the traditional foods of the indigenous people.  

APPETIZER

Nearly ninety (90%) percent of Marshall Island's non-aid income comes from the tuna industry.  To that end, the Marshall Islands started its own tuna company in partnership with the Nature Conservancy.  The company, Pacific Island Tuna, is the first step for this country to enter into a market that is dominated by foreign fleets, mostly from China and Japan.  

The step enables the Marshallese to own the fish that are sold (which are certified as sustainable by the Marine Stewardship Council), thereby ensuring that the proceeds stay in the country. Forty percent (40%) of the net income will be invested in community based conservation efforts and climate resiliency projects. The remaining sixty percent (60%) goes to the island government.  

I begin my challenge with an appetizer in recognition of the innovation and leadership demonstrated by the Marshallese people as they try to conserve an important resource and use proceeds in positive ways, such as improving the communities, marine conservation, and fighting climate change. This was also a very delicious start to the meal. 

TUNA SASHIMI

Recipe from Delicious.com

Serves 2

Ingredients:

• 500 grams (1 pound) sashimi grade tuna
• 2 avocados, flesh cut into thick slices
• 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
• 1 tablespoon lime juice
• 4 spring onions, finely sliced on the diagonal
• 1/2 cup light soy sauce

Directions:

1. Prepare the tuna and avocado.  Using a sharp knife, cut the tuna into 0.5 cm (or 0.2 inch) slices. Place on a serving platter with the slices of avocado.

2. Prepare the dressing. Combine the extra virgin olive oil and lime juice. When ready to serve dress the avocado and tuna with lime dressing. Garnish with spring onions and season with sea salt and pepper.

3. Finish the dish. Serve with soy sauce for dipping and extra lime, if desired.

MAIN COURSE

Now, I turn to the culinary challenge itself: to make a main course from the Marshall Islands. I drew inspiration from the fishing heritage of the Marshallese people (after all, as noted above, they have fifty different words for fishing techniques in their native language). The main course is known as Marshallese Grilled Fish. 

This grilled fish dish is traditionally prepared by marinating the fish first in "so-shoe" (soy sauce) and then grilling the entire fish (including the guts) over a fire made with coconut husks. I followed the traditional marinade, but the rest of the recipe did not quite follow the tradition. As a routine, I had my fish gutted and scaled at the grocery store. I also lacked coconut husks to use in the grilling process. 

The dish was relatively easy to prepare. The hardest part was deciding on the fish to use. The fishing fleets that patrol the waters of the Marshall Islands usually land bigeye tuna, yellowfin tuna, blue marlin, black marlin, albacore tuna and swordfish. None of those were readily available whole at any market near me. 

However, I decided to go with a yellowtail amberjack. Nevertheless, I felt it was appropriate because the Yellowtail Amberjack is a nod to marine conservation generally. The Monterey Bay Aquarium rates this fish either a "best choice" or a "good alternative" depending upon whether the fish is raised through aquaculture and/or where that takes place. I marinated the whole fish (minus the guts) in soy sauce and then grilled it on my gas grill (not authentic at all). My one regret is not getting a picture of the fish before I started to deconstruct it to serve as the main course for myself and my beautiful Angel.   

MARSHALLESE GRILLED FISH

Recipe from International Cuisine

Serves 2

Ingredients:

• 1 whole fish, cleaned
• Coconut oil, for basting
• 1/4 cup soy sauce
• Freshly ground black pepper
• Sea salt
• 1 pineapple, peeled and cut into rings or chunks

Directions:

1. Prepare the fish. Clean the fish inside and out and pat dry. Marinate the fish in the soy sauce on both sides for about 20 minutes. Brush with some coconut oil. Season with salt and pepper.

2. Grill the fish. Place the fish in a fish basket for grilling so you can flip it without sticking to the grill. Place on a medium-hot grill and cook both sides for about 5 to 6 minutes or until the fish is flaky and tender. Do not overcook.

3. Grill the pineapple. As the fish is being grilled, add the pineapple to the grill. Grill for 1-2 minutes and flip. Grill for another 1 minute.

3. Finish the dish. Serve the fish whole with grilled pineapple and chukuchuk.

SIDE DISH

This side dish calls for the use of calrose rice, although I had a lot of sushi rice at hand. So, I substituted sushi rice, which worked well in terms of making the rice balls. In fact, it worked a little too well as I ended up pretty much with sticky rice. That stickiness ensured that the final product would be a coconut rice ball. These rice balls are served on special occasions and are often served alongside grilled fish. 

CHUKUCHUK

Recipe from International Cuisine

Makes 12 balls

Ingredients:

• 2 cups calrose rice
• 1 coconut, meat shredded/grated

Directions:

1. Prepare the rice. Prepare the rice in accordance with the directions on the package.

2. Continue preparing the rice. When the rice is cool enough to handle, roll the rice into balls and then roll the balls on the grated coconut. 

*    *    *

As I mentioned at the outset of this challenge, the dishes are easy to make, it is the history that is hard. The efforts of the Marshallese to take control of their resources, their food and their health face even greater challenges in the future. I cannot finish this post without addressing the biggest of these challenges: climate change. The average height above sea level in the Marshall Islands is seven feet.  As temperatures rise around the globe (and, they are rising given 2023 will be the hottest year in history) and ice melts at the poles, the sea levels will rise. 

Rising sea levels pose a threat to a country like the Marshall Islands. An average sea level rise of just 3 feet (or 1 meter) will result in nearly forty percent (40%) of the buildings in the capital, Majuro, being inundated with water. It will also result in the salinization of land used for domestic agriculture. Thus, Climate change may end up doing what atomic bombs could not do. If left unchecked, it might completely destroy the country, submerging most of it under the Pacific Ocean leaving little left that would be inhabitable. 

Credit: Karl Fellenius, AFP/Getty Images

There is one thing standing in the way: the Marshallese people. Their resilience throughout their history is noteworthy, but I fear it may not be enough. Measures to combat climate change are expensive, far beyond the means of countries with far more in resources that the Marshall Islands. 

The challenge to prepare a main course from the Marshall Islands has been less a story about paradise and more about our health and the health of our planet. It has definitely opened my eyes. 

Until next time ....

Swahili Fish with Creamy Coconut Sauce

There is a small island along the shore of the Kenyan coastline called Lamu. The island has the oldest and best preserved Swahili settlement in eastern Africa. The settlement - Lamu Old Town - dates back to the 12th century and is now one of UNESCO's World Heritage Sites. As the U.N. agency describes the town, "[b]uilt in coral stone and mangrove timber, the town is characterized by the simplicity of structural forms enriched by such features as inner courtyards, verandas, and elaborately carved wooden doors." The town has also become a center for learning about the Swahili culture and the Islamic religion. 

Nearly ten years ago, the culture and cuisine of Kenya took center stage at the Smithsonian Institution's Folklife Festival. While I did not attend the festival that year, I have been to the festival in the past. Each year, the Smithsonian Institution provides a spotlight for a few different cultures from around the world. One can learn about art, cuisine, history, music and much more at various stalls and stands across the National Mall. 

Back in 2014, one had an opportunity to learn about the Kenyan cuisine as part of a program called Kenya: Mambo Poa. The demonstration included this recipe, which is for Swahili Fish with Creamy Coconut Sauce. As Michaela Wright wrote for the Smithsonian Institution, the dish comes from Lamu island, where it is served for special occasions. It is also served of the iftar, the feast eaten by Muslims at night during the Ramadan holiday.

The cooks who prepared this dish - Amina Harith Swaleh and Fatrma Ali Busaidy - at the festival explained that they usually use 8 to 10 pounds of fish, such as red snapper or kingfish, for this dish. I did not have or intend to use 8 to 10 pounds of fish (primarily because neither my beautiful Angel nor myself would eat that much). So, I modified the proportions and cooking times to allow for about 2 pounds of fish (basically one large red snapper). 

If one had this dish on Lamu island, they would most likely be served a millet or what porridge during Ramadan, or with bread and rice at other times. If I make my way there, I will definitely try it as I take in the sights and sounds of that island. 

SWAHILI FISH WITH CREAMY COCONUT SAUCE

Recipe from Smithsonian Institution

Serves several

Ingredients:

• 8-10 pounds of firm, white fish (such as red snapper)
• Juice of 3 limes
• 6-7 garlic cloves, pureed
• 1/4 cup of pepper
• 3 tablespoons of salt
• 2 16 ounce cans of coconut milk
• 1 tablespoon tamarind
• 2 1/2 tablespoons turmeric
• Pepper to taste

Directions:

1. Prepare the fish. Toss the lime juice, pureed garlic, pepper and salt into a large plastic bag. remove bones and scales from fish, but no need to remove head. Place fish (whole) into bag and marinate for two hours.

2. Broil the fish. Remove fish and place on baking sheet. Broil the fish at 350 degrees Fahrenheit for about 15 to 20 minutes, or until cooked through and lightly browned.

3. Prepare the sauce. Pour coconut milk, tamarind, pepper and turmeric into a medium saucepan and let simmer for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add salt to taste.

4. Finish the dish. Plate the fish. Remove sauce from heat and carefully use a spoon to coat both sides of the fish in coconut sauce. Pour any extra sauce on top. Serve warm with bread or rice. 

ENJOY!

Vietnamese Grilled Whole Fish

There are a wide variety of fish dishes in Vietnamese cuisine, which is only to be expected given the country has 3,260 kilometers of coastline. There are also several major rivers that run through the country, such as the Song Da, Song Chiang, and, of course, the Mekong River.

One of the most interesting subset of dishes are the whole fish dishes. Setting aside the relatively easy preparation, I find that it is the sauces that one prepares alongside the whole fish to be one of the truly interesting aspects of Vietnamese whole fish dishes. The sauces provide an extra level of flavor that often enhances whatever spices, herbs and citrus are stuffed into the fish. 

Take, for example, chef and author Charles Phan, who has quite a few whole fish recipes out there. My parents gave me his cookbook, Vietnamese Home Cooking, as a gift. I decided to make the whole fish recipe in that cookbook, which is set forth below. The fish was delicious, but it was that dipping sauce that, for me, completed this dish.

The dipping sauce represents what the Vietnamese call "Ngũ Hành" or the five tastes. It is an excellent balance of those tastes, namely, spice, salt, bitter, sour and sweet. The chiles provide the spice; the lime juice offers the bitterness; the fish sauce contributes both the sour and the salt; and, the sugar provides, as you can guess, the sweet. The balance in this dipping sauce led me to dipping every bite-sized morsel of the fish into the sauce. 

VIETNAMESE GRILLED WHOLE FISH

Recipe from Charles Phan, Vietnamese Home Cooking at pg. 181

Serves 2

Ingredients (for the fish):

• 1 (1 1/2 to 2 pound) whole branzino, cleaned with head and tail intact
• Kosher salt
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 1 by 1-inch piece of ginger, cut into thin coins
• 2 large Thai basil sprigs
• 2 large cilantro sprigs
• 3 thin lemon slices
• 3 thin lime slices
• 2 tablespoons canola or olive oil

Ingredients (for the dipping sauce):

• 2 1/2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lime juice
• 2 tablespoons fish sauce
• 2 teaspoons sugar
• 1 teaspoon peeled and minced fresh ginger
• 1/4 teaspoon minced garlic
• 1/4 teaspoon minced Thai chile

Directions:

1. Prepare the grill.  Prepare a hot fire for direct heat grilling in a charcoal grill (you should be able to hold your hand 1 to 2 inches above the grate for only 2 to 3 seconds). When the coals are ready, place a cast iron griddle or large cast iron frying pan on the grill grate and let it preheat until very hot.

2. Prepare the fish. While the fire is reaching temperature, rinse the fish in cold water and pat dry with paper towels. Season the inside with salt and pepper and then stuff the cavity with the ginger, basil, cilantro and lemon and lime slices. Drizzle the oil on both sides of the fish and set aside. 

3. Make the dipping sauce. To make the sauce, in a small bowl, stir together lime juice, fish sauce, sugar, ginger, garlic, and Thai chile until the sugar has dissolved. Set aside.

4. Grill the fish. When the griddle or pan is very hot, add the fish and cook it without moving for about 6 minutes until the skin is a deep golden brown and no longer sticking to the griddle. To check, gently try to lift the fish; of it does not release easily, continue to cook until it does. 

5. Continue to grill the fish. With a large, wide spatula centered at the middle of the fish, flip the fish and cook on the second side until golden brown. After 1 minute, begin checking to see if the fish is done. Insert a knife into the fish and wiggle it gently; the flesh should be barely clinging to the bone. If you feel resistance, continue cooking, repeating the test until the flesh offers no resistance.

6. Finish the dish. Transfer the fish to a plater and serve immediately. Accompany with the dipping sauce. 

Whole Roasted Fish with Gullah Mopping Sauce

"Fishing is the heart of the Gullah Geechee People."

- Marquetta Goodwine, Chieftess of the Gullah Geechee Nation

It is said that, apart from the cuisine of the indigenous peoples,  Gullah cuisine may be one of the oldest foodways in North America. However, unlike native cuisine, Gullah cooking draws its roots from across the oceans. Those roots can be found in the ingredients used in, and preparation of dishes from across the African continent, from Senegal to Angola and beyond. I explored some of that history as it related to the use of rice in my post about Carolina Crab Rice.

Another important part of that history lies with the impact that  Gullah cuisine has had upon the ingredients and preparation of dishes in North America. For instance, there has been a long tradition of barbecue in Gullah cooking. The Gullah (and Geechee) live along the Atlantic coastline from North Carolina to northern Florida. Thus, the centerpiece of Gullah barbecue revolves around pork, particularly the whole hog. The barbecue is an event, centered around family first and then the pig, with sauce being little more than an afterthought. 

Somewhat ironically, it is the sauce that opened the first door into Gullah barbecue for me. I had spent quite a bit of time trying to find an authentic Gullah (or Geechee) barbecue recipe. My research led me to this recipe, Whole Roasted Fish with Gullah Mopping Sauce. By definition, a mopping sauce is a thin flavored liquid that a pitmaster "mops" over the smoked meat. The purpose of a mopping sauce is to add additional layers of flavor while helping to ensure that the meat remains moist through the smoking process. However, the use of fish seemed out of place (in my humble opinion) for Gullah cuisine, because everything I have read emphasized how pork was the principal protein for barbecue. 

In fact, the use of fish, even in a smoked preparation, is not so out of the ordinary in Gullah cuisine. The Gullah and Geechee have been fishing the local waters of the Carolinas since the 1600s. Indeed, many of the Gullah and Geechee were driven to the marshes, coastal inlets and islands, thereby making fishing an important means of survival. Put differently, fish plays an important role in the diet of the Gullah Geechee. Indeed, it was the primary source of protein in their diet prior to the Civil War. More importantly, as at least one study found, the Gullah Geechee are "motivated to fish by childhood experiences that were frequently interwoven into their daily lives and by a sense of cultural preservation of the role and value fishing and fish consumption carries in this population."   

In the end, it was an interesting insight into a culture that I know very little about. My hope is that this small insight will hopefully serve as the springboard into a deeper exploration of Gullah Geechee culture and cuisine. Only time will tell. 

WHOLE ROASTED FISH WITH GULLAH MOPPING SAUCE

Recipe from the James Beard Foundation

Serves 3

Ingredients (for the fish):

• 3 dressed whole trout (1 1/2 pound each)
• 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
• 1 teaspoon cayenne pepper or sweet paprika
• 1 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 teaspoon turmeric powder
• 8 sprigs fresh thyme
• 2 lemons, each sliced into 4 rings
• 1 pint cherry tomatoes
• 1 cup of mopping sauce

Ingredients (for the mopping sauce):

• 2 1/2 cups apple cider vinegar
• 1 8-ounce can tomato juice
• 5 1/4-inch-wide paper thin slices of lemon rind (only the yellow rind, not white pith)
• 1 cup ketchup
• 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
• 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
• 1 tablespoon yellow mustard
• 2 teaspoons coarsely ground black pepper
• 2 teaspoons crushed red pepper
• Dash of hot sauce

Directions:

1. Prepare the mopping sauce. Whisk the ingredients together in a sauce pot over medium heat and simmer for 15 minutes, stirring constantly. Remove the pot from the heat and let cool. Store this mopping sauce refrigerated in a jar for up to six months.

2. Prepare the trout. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Pat the fish dry inside and out with paper towels. Make 3 diagonal cuts through the skin on each side of the fish and place on a rimmed sheet pan. Generously and evenly pour the olive oil over the fish. Season the inside and out with cayenne pepper (or paprika), garlic powder, salt and turmeric. Gently stuff the thyme sprigs and lemon rings into the fish's belly. Scatter the tomatoes in the pan and pour the mopping sauce over the fish. 

3. Roast the fish. Roast the fish for 25 to 30 minutes, basting every 8 to 10 minutes, until a thermometer inserted in the thickest part reads 140 degrees Fahrenheit. Remove the fish from teh oven and serve immediately. 

ENJOY!