Haitian Style Spicy Grilled Octopus

Octopuses can be found around the Caribbean Sea; and, as one could expect, they make their way onto the plates in restaurants and homes from Jamaica to Dominica. I recently decided to make a Caribbean-inspired octopus recipe. As I searched for a recipe to make, I came across a recipe from a Haitian blogger, food photographer and recipe developer, Annick Megie. The recipe looked like it was something I could make and the dish looked beautiful (Megie is, after all, a food photographer). 

The recipe was even simpler for me because I had purchased pre-cooked octopus. I have worked with raw octopus, and, I have a place where I could easily buy one, but the cooked version was what I had on hand when I was looking to make the recipe. If you have a pre-cooked octopus, you can skip to step 3 in the recipe below. If you don't, then you should follow steps 1 and 2 (especially the dipping the octopus first before you completely submerge it). 

In terms of white wines to use to cook the octopus, think of something that you could pair with the dish when it is ready to eat. Some easier to find wines might be an Albarino from Galicia, Spain; or a Vinho Verde from Portugal. If you are able to search a little more, perhaps a Vermentino from Sardinia, Spain; or a PicPoul de Pinet from Langudoc, France. Basically, you want a lighter, more mineral wine. The opposite of an oaked Chardonnay. (An unoaked Chardonnay would work well.)

As I researched the use of octopus in Haitian cuisine, I read an article (which I am now unable to find again), about how fishermen in the northern coastal cities (most likely Cap-Haitien, but I would like to think it included smaller cities like Labadee or Basse-Terre) would bring back octopus as part of their daily catch.  However, while most of those in the Haitian boat-fishing is done by men, there are women who catch octopus and turtles. That enables women to go beyond their traditional roles in the fishing industry, which focuses more on the processing and selling of the catch. 

Although it is not Haitian, this link will take you to a videostory, Felicia: The Life of an Octopus Fisherwoman, which tells the story of an octopus fisherwoman in Madagascar. While the film tells the story of a fisherwoman half-way around the world, there are commonalities in the life-experiences. Madagascar is one of the poorest countries in Africa, just as Haiti is the poorest country in North America and the Caribbean. Large populations live at or below the poverty line, doing the best to survive on a daily basis. They compete for resources, not just with each other, but with outsiders - like large fishing fleets - that often win the battle. The result is overfishing and environmental degradation, leaving less for the local fishermen and women to feed their families or sell at the market. The experience of Felicia may very well be the experience of women living in poverty along the coastlines of Haiti, or many other places around the world. 

A reminder that, behind a pretty plate of grilled octopus, there are people struggling just to survive. It is struggle shared by the poor around the world, from Haiti to Madagascar, from the United States to Australia.

HAITIAN STYLE SPICY GRILLED OCTOPUS

Recipe from Tchakayiti

Serves 4

Ingredients (for the broth):

• 1 medium-sized ctopus, previously cleaned
• 1 cup of white wine
• 2-3 cups of water, enough to submerge the octopus
• 3 bay leaves
• 3-5 garlic heads
• 1 teaspoon cayenne
• 1 teaspoon chile powder
• 1 teaspoon paprika
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon pepper

Ingredients (for the sauce):

• 5 shallots chopped
• 1/2 red onion, chopped
• 1 piment bouc (or scotch bonnet) chopped
• 3 limes, juiced
• Olive oil
• Fresh parsley

Directions:

1. Prepare the octopus.  In a pot, combine all of the broth ingredients. Make sure to add enough water to cover the octopus. Bring all the ingredients to a boil. Let simmer for about 10 minutes for the flavors to be infused. Dip the octopus in the water 2 or 3 times for about 10 seconds each time. This helps the tentacles curl up. Submerge the octopus completely in the broth. 

2. Cook the octopus.  Cook for about 45 minutes to 1 hour, until the octopus is tender. Be careful not to overcook it for that can have the reverse effect and make your octopus chewy. Take the octopus out of the water and cut it into small pieces. 

3. Make the sauce. In a bowl, combine the spicy sauce ingredients. Drizzle the sauce atop the cut octopus. 

4. Marinate the octopus.  Cover and let marinate in the fridge for a few hours.  

5. Finish the dish.  Fire up the grill. Grill the octopus for about 5 to 10 minutes for each side or until it is crispy on the outside. Serve immediately. 

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. 

*     *     *

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.

Poul Nan Sous

"People often think of Haiti as a place where you are not supposed to have any joy. I want to show that this is a place where you can have joy. 

-- Edwidge Danticat

These words caught my attention because of their truth. The public discourse about Haiti in recent days, weeks, months and even years, focuses on the negative. And, to be sure, there have been a lot of negative things going on in Haiti for most of its existence (which dates back to 1804, when it became the first independent, African-American country in the Western Hemisphere). 

Haitian-American Edwidge Danticat's observation reminds me that there is more to Haiti than all of the bad news. There are stories of independence, resilience, resourcefulness, and, there are stories of joy. One such story that I found over and over as I did some research for this post revolves around the dish, Poul Nan Sous.

One can find quite a few recipes for this dish, which translates from Poul Nan Sous into "Chicken in Sauce." Many of those recipes often come with memories of eating the dish with family. For example, Gregory Gourdet wrote in Food & Wine that this dish would greet him whenever he visited his "Memere" (forgive me for I can't get the accents). Others recount this dish in a very similar way, tying it to memories of family meals, where loved ones would gather together and be able to enjoy the stewed chicken as it rested in a spicy, garlicky sauce. 

Yet, Poul Nan Sous is not only a source for joyful memories, it also has greater significance. As Chef Chris Viand explains, the chicken is marinated in an epis, which he refers to as the "go-to marinade" for Haitian cuisine. The marinade typically consists of habanero peppers, multi-colored bell peppers, garlic, lime juice, olive oil, scallions, parsley and thyme. Not only can this marinade be used to prepare meat, but it is also used in preparing rice dishes. 

As is the case with any recipe, there can be as many variations as there are cooks. The recipe I used to prepare Poul Nan Sous had a more simplified epis, as there were no bell peppers or parsley (all of which were added later in the stew), but there was the addition of other citrus (lime juice and orange juice). The chicken was marinated with onions, with is common throughout all of these recipes. And, while each cook may have their own way to prepare the stew, the one thing that unites them is that the resulting dish must have a deep color. One does not want their guest to respond, "si vyann lan two blan" (or, "the meat is too white"). 

In the end, I prepared this dish and I can see why it becomes the focal point of a person's memory around family meals. The chicken took on, not just the color of the stew, but the kick from the Scotch Bonnet peppers, the garlic and the citrus of the marinade. In the end, I was left wanting some bread that I could use to sop up the leftover liquid from the stew. This will be a dish that I will make again ... and again ... and again.

POUL NAN SOUS

Recipe from Food & Wine

Serves 4 to 6

Ingredients (for the marinade):

• 3 pounds mixed bone-in chicken thighs and drumsticks, patted dry
• 3 tablespoons kosher salt
• 1 juicy orange, halved
• 1 juicy lime, halved
• 1 juicy lemon, halved
• 2 medium yellow onions, halved and thinly sliced
• 8 garlic cloves, sliced
• 2 Scotch Bonnet or habanero chiles, cut in half and sliced thin
• 1/4 cup fresh thyme leaves

Ingredients (for the stew):

• 1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
• 1/2 cup tomato paste
• 1 tablespoon kosher salt
• 2 red bell peppers, seeded and deveined, cut into long, thin slices
• 2 yellow bell peppers, seeded and deveined, cut into long, thin slices
• 2 cups chicken stock, salted homemade or store bought
• Small handful of roughly chopped parsley

Directions:

1.    Marinate the chicken. Put the chicken pieces in a large bowl and season with salt. Squeeze the citrus halves over the chicken and then spend a minute or so rubbing the cut sides of the citrus against the chicken. Add the onions, garlic, chile and thyme and toss well, rubbing the chicken as you do. Cover and marinate in the fridge for at least 12 hours or up to 48 hours. 

2.     Reserve the marinade. Preheat the oven at 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Remove the chicken from the marinade, guiding any stuck-on aromatics back into the bowl. Set a strainer over a small mixing bowl. Pour the marinade through the straining reserving the solids and the liquids. 

3.     Brown the chicken. Heat the oil in a wide heavy, ovenproof pot (such as a 3 1/2 quart braiser) over medium high heat until just shimmery. Cook the chicken, skin side down, occasionally turning the drumsticks but not the thighs, until the skin is a deep brown, about 8 minutes. Transfer the chicken pieces to a plate. 

4.     Prepare the stew. Reduce the heat to medium low and add the tomato paste and salt, and cook, stirring often, until it turns several shades darker, about 3 minutes. Add the bell peppers and reserved solids from the marinade and cook, stirring occasionally until the peppers soften slightly and take on a little color, about 8 to 10 minutes. 

5.     Finish the dish. Return the chicken to the pan, skin side up and in a single layer. Then take a minute to pile the peppers, onions and other aromatics on top of the chicken. Then evenly pour in the reserved liquid from the marinade, along with the stock. Cook in the oven, basting every 15 minutes to coat the chicken with the peppers and sauce, until the sauce has thickened slightly and the meat pulls off the bone with a gentle tug from a fork, about 1 hour. Garnish with parsley and serve.

PEACE. 

Guiji (Ghost Chicken)

Yunnan is one of the southernmost provinces of China; and, it borders Myanmar, Thailand and Laos. Within the province's borders, one can find the Dai people. I previously blogged about the Dai and their cuisine when I prepared Dai Carrot Salad. As I did some research for that post, I kept coming across a completely different recipe. The dish is referred to as Guiji or, by its more fanciful nickname, "ghost chicken."

The dish is an excellent reflection of Dai cuisine. It draws upon three key ingredients: raw herbs such as culantro and fish mint root; chiles, such as the very piquant Thai bird's eye chiles; and an acidic element such as lime juice. 

Notwithstanding the use of traditional ingredients, the "star" of this recipe is the chicken itself. Guiji is prepared with a silkie chicken, which gets its name for its white, fluffy plummage (which is said to feel like silk to the touch). Indeed, the first recorded sighting of a silkie chicken comes from Marco Polo in the 13th century, who wrote about a "furry chicken" that he encountered during his travels through Asia. Indeed, the silkie chicken originated somewhere in China (although it is possible that it could have emerged elsewhere in Asia, such as as India or Java).  

Beneath the fluffy white feathers, a silkie has black skin, darker meat and black bones, which are well known to and prized by chefs, especially in Asia. Chinese chefs (including Dai chefs) use the meat of the chickens for a wide range of soups, while using the bones for stocks and broths. 

While researching Guiji, I worked under the assumption that the dish was representative of Dai cuisine. Most of the websites attributed the dish to the Dai people. However, I came across some interesting information that placed the dish within the cuisine of another ethnic group, the Jingpo. The Jingpo live in the same region as the Dai, generally around the across the border between Myanmar (where they are known as the Jinghpaw) and China's Yunnan province. 

The link to the Jingpo also provided an interesting backstory to Guiji. There are Jingpo communities who practice a ritual of slaughtering chickens and offering them to departed family members and other souls, along with ancestral spirits or deities. The chickens would then be poached, which is a sign of respect for the dead. Once the chickens are cooked and have cooled down, the meat would be shredded. The shredded chicken is then combined with garlic, ginger and the key ingredients of Dai cuisine, that is, raw herbs, chiles, and lime juice. Hence, the Jingpo tradition may be where this dish gets its nickname, "Ghost Chicken." 

GUIJI (GHOST CHICKEN)

Recipe from Go Kunming

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 whole silkie chicken (plucked and butchered)\
• 2 tablespoons ginger, minced
• 2 tablespoons garlic, minced
• 7-10 tablespoons culantro
• 3-4 tablespoons fish mint root (optional)
• 5-10 Thai bird's eye chiles, sliced thinly
• 1 tablespoon salt
• 1 pod dried red cardamom
• 5 limes, juiced

Directions:

1. Poach the chicken. Place the entire bird into the pot with just enough water to cover and the single pod of red cardamom. Season with a pinch of salt after the water begins to boil. Cover the pot with a lid, lower the flame, and simmer for 10 minutes. Remove the pot from the stove and allow the chicken to sit in the hot liquid for another 20 minutes to continue cooking. After 20 minutes have passed, drain the liquid, remove the cardamom and set the chicken aside to cool. 

2. Pull the chicken meat. Once the chicken has cooled, use your fingers to shred the meat into thin, uniform strips and discard the bones. This should yield about 4 cups of meat, including the skin (the traditional Yunnan way). 

3. Finish the dish. Toss the chicken with the rest of the ingredients in a bowl. Taste. If the flavor is not strong and piquant, add more lime juice, salt or fresh chiles as necessary. Serve cold. 

ENJOY!

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. 

Goan Clam Curry

Some say "Goa is where my heart belongs"; but, for me, the saying needs to be amended to read, "Goa is where my stomach belongs." There is something about the cuisine. Goa may be the smallest state in India, with the fourth smallest population of any Indian state. However, its cuisine punches way above its weight, both figuratively and (due to the abundant use of chiles) literally. It is that punch that appeals so much to my gut.

What drew my attention to this cuisine is perhaps one of the most well known of Goan dishes ... Vindaloo. The fiery curry -- in all of its forms (whether pork, lamb, beef of chicken) -- is one of my favorite dishes. Yet, while Vindaloo may be one of the most popular dishes, there is so much more to Goan cuisine. 

This small Indian state lies along the western coastline of India. Its 103 kilometers of coastline offer not only great beaches (from what I have read), but access to a steady source of seafood. This includes fish such as kingfish, mackerel, sardines and even sharks, as well as shellfish like crabs, prawns, lobsters, squid and mussels.

All of this seafood provides the basis for a range of different dishes. These dishes include, by way of example, Fish Curry (Xitti Kodi), Shark Ambot Tik, Samarachi Kodi, and Crab Xacuti. I would not have come across any of these dishes (at least not yet) if not for the fact that I found a recipe for a Goan clam curry. That recipe got me to look further into Goan cuisine, thereby opening the proverbial book on something that I had overlooked for the longest time. 

Source: Times of India

The summer months are often considered the shellfish months in Goa. The bays of Goa - such as Sancoale and Chicalim - are home to oysters, mussels and clams (known as tisreos) that are harvested by both locals and non-locals alike. The high demand for all of this shellfish has resulted in overfishing and degradation of the habitats. It has threatened the existence of clams in these bays, as more juvenile clams are harvested and their habitat is destroyed by the collection methods. 

The alarm bells have sounded in recent years, which has resulted in some responses to what has become a significant decline in the once abundant shellfish. A modest start involved a local biodiversity board's call for the use of handpicking as the only method to collect clams. This call joins other efforts to regulate the size of harvested clams, quotas on the amount to be harvested, and limiting harvests to locals only. 

All of these efforts are just guidelines, and, they will be effective only as long as people are willing to observe them. This requires people to move beyond the shortsightedness of making money now or enjoying these delicacies in the present, so that they will be around for a long time to come. 

GOAN CLAM CURRY

Recipe adapted from My Heart Beets

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 2 tablespoons ghee (or neutral oil)
• 2 large shallots or 4 small ones finely chopped
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 inch ginger, minced
• 2 tablespoons paprika
• 1 teaspoon coriander powder
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1/2 teaspoon turmeric
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon Kashmiri chile powder (or more if you want it to be really spicy)
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/2 cup coconut milk
• 2 pounds small clams, littlenecks
• 1 lime wedge, plus more for garnish
• 2 tablespoons cilantro leaves, chopped

Directions:

1.  Clean the clams. If necessary, soak in cold water for 20 minutes with a big pinch of salt. Lift each clam out of the bowl and rinse with water. (If you are using farmed clams, you can probably just rinse them.)

2. Sauté the aromatics. Melt the ghee in a Dutch oven or heavy pot over medium heat, then add shallots, garlic, ginger and sauté for 6 to 7 minutes. Add the spices then stir.

3. Cook the clams. Add the coconut milk and bring to a gentle boil. Add clams, cover and cook stirring occasionally until the clams are opened, 6 to 8 minutes. Discard any unopened clams. 

4. Finish the dish. Serve the clams in bowls with the cooking liquid and squeeze lime wedge overtop. Garnish with cilantro. 

ENJOY!

Cochinita Pibil

There is cochinita pibil and then there is cochinita pibil. The former involves a suckling pig (cochinita = little pig) that is first marinated with a mixture of achiote, sour orange juice, chiles and other ingredients, then wrapped in banana leaves, and finally placed in a relatively shallow hole in the ground that is lined with very hot stones or the remnants of a fire (pibil = piib, or Yucatec Mayan for "earth oven"). The hole is covered and the meat roasts for a very long time, often at least eight hours or overnight. By contrast, the latter is a pork shoulder, marinated with the same mix of ingredients, but roasted in either a smoker or an oven. One dish, but two ways to prepare it.

The authentic preparation -- banana leaves and the hole in the ground -- has a very long history throughout the Yucatan peninsula and surrounding regions. That history is tied to the indigenous Mayans, who used this process to prepare wild boar or venison. However, the dish that we know today has been heavily influenced over time. This influence came principally from the Spanish, who brought many things in their conquest over of the indigenous Mayan civilization and the colonization of the Mayan lands. 

Placing the wrapped pork in the pib.
Source: Mexicolores

The influence can be seen in three ways with respect to this dish. First, there is the use of pork. The Spanish introduced pigs to the Yucatan region approximately in 1511, although it would be a few decades later before pigs were brought in significant numbers to the area. The Mayans accepted the pigs as a food source, and, prepared the pork in the same way as the boar and venison. Second, there were the oranges, most notably, the Seville orange. Its sour juices were incorporated into the marinade and preparation of the pork prior to the roasting of the meat (just as the Spanish used the orange juice for marinating fish and meats). Third, the influence of the Spanish can be seen in the banana leaves. The banana tree is not native to the western hemisphere. The tree probably originated in Southeastern Asia, somewhere between Malaysia and New Guinea. The fruit made its way through trade routes in the east. However, the Spanish -- more specifically, Bishop Vasco de Quiroga (the first Bishop of Michoacan) -- brought the banana trees to what would become Mexico in 1554. Thus, cochinta pibil demonstrates how cuisines can change with the introduction of new ingredients and cooking processes.

Turning to this particular recipe, it falls more in line with the latter form of Cochinita Pibil, that is, the one that is prepared in a smoker or oven, as opposed to a hole in the ground. A few notes. First, my beautiful Angel will not let me dig any holes in our yard for culinary purposes. So, no pib. Second, I had to dispense with the banana leaves. While I have occasionally seen banana leaves in ethnic food markets, but I have not seen them recently. However, this recipe provided an interesting substitute: parchment paper. I have a lot of parchment paper thanks to a purchase at the local warehouse store. So, I cut pieces that could be used much in the same way as banana leaves to wrap the pork.

One last thing about this recipe. I decided to use a smoker, which would give me the closest thing to a charcoal fire that would have been used to heat the rocks that would have gone into the pibil. Given I was using a smoker, I also decided to add some wood for smoke. I needed to decide on a wood; and, I went with post oak because I felt that (after doing some research) oak would be as close as I could get to the type of wood that might be found in the region.

COCHINITA PIBIL

Recipe adapted from Glebe Kitchen

Serves several

Ingredients (for the marinade):

• 8 cloves unpeeled garlic
• juice of 2 medium oranges
• juice of 2 large limes
• 3 ounces achiote paste
• 2 teaspoons salt
• 1/4 cup white vinegar

Ingredients (for the pork):

• 4 pounds of boneless pork shoulder
• chunks of oak wood (for the smoker)
• Banana leaves (or parchment paper)
• Foil pan

Ingredients (for the pickled onions):

• 2 red onions, sliced about 1/8 inch thick
• 2 cloves garlic, cut in half
• 1 1/4 cups apple cider vinegar
• 1 1/4 cup water
• 1 clove
• 5 allspice berries, whole
• 1/4 teaspoon black peppercorns
• 3 tablespoons sugar
• 1 teaspoon salt

Ingredients (for the presentation):

• Corn tortillas
• Pico de gallo

Directions:

1. Prepare the pork.  Roast the garlic in their skins. Use a small cast iron frying pan over medium heat and toast them until they blacken slightly and soften. This takes about 3-5 minutes. Peel the garlic. Combine the peeled, softened garlic with the lime and orange juice, achiote paste, and salt in a blender and blend thoroughly. Check to ensure that the achiote paste is broken up. Add the marinade to the pork and ensure that all sides of the meat are covered by the marinade. Marinate for two to four hours.

2. Prepare the smoker. Prepare the smoker to reach a temperature of about 275 degrees to 300 degrees. Soak the chunks of oak wood for about 1 hour in water.

3. Prepare the pickled onions. Combine all of the ingredients except the onions in a pot and bring that pot to a boil. Add the onions and boil for one minute. Remove from the heat and let cool, stirring occasionally. Store in a sealed jar in the refrigerator. Let the onions rest for at least 4 hours before using.

4. Prepare the pork for the smoker. Typically, the pork is wrapped in banana leaves; however, I did not have access to those leaves. However, I used four pieces of parchment. Scrunch one piece of parchment to form a receptacle for the pork along with the marinade. (The goal is for the pork to be steamed with the marinade while it is smoked.) Take a second piece and cover the pork wrapping it around the pork. Place the pork in an aluminum pan. Place the pan in the smoker and smoke for about 3 to 4 hours or until the pork reaches 190 or 195 degrees Fahrenheit.

5. Continue to prepare the pork. After removing the pork from the smoker, let it rest for 20 minutes. Remove the pork from the parchment packets but keep the marinade and juices. Use a fat separator to separate the fat. shred the pork with two forks and then mix the juice back into the meat. 

6. Finish the dish. Serve with corn tortillas, pico de gallo and the pickled onions.

ENJOY!

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Dominica

There is an old saying in the Caribbean, "nicknames are used in case the Devil comes asking for you." That may explain why many of the islands have nicknames. There is "Spice Island" (Grenada), "Helen of the West Indies" (St. Lucia), "Little England" (Barbados), and the "Island of Flowers" (Martinique). There is also "Nature Isle." This is the nickname for the Commonwealth of Dominica; or, as the indigenous Kalinago people refer to the island, Waitukubuli, which translates to "tall is her body." 

Both Waitukubuli and "Nature Isle" are apt descriptions for the little island, which have some of the tallest peaks -- like Morns Diablotins and Mount Trois Pitons -- in the Caribbean.  Those peaks rise out of and are covered by rainforests that are the homes for many rare species of animals, birds and plants.  The island also boasts of  365 rivers, such as the Indian River and the Rosalie River. And, then there are the beaches, the blue waters and the coral reefs. 

As much as I love nature, this post takes me to the towns and villages to learn more about the people, culture and their cuisine. Dominica has had a rather unique history, which has been shaped by resistance and colonialism. When the Spanish attempted to colonize the island, they met resistance from the indigenous Kalinago peoples. The French were more successful, establishing a permanent colony followed by sugar and coffee plantations.  The French also brought slaves from Africa, and, eventually, people of African descent were the majority of those living on the island.  The British ultimately seized control of the island and Dominica became a British colony.  The British enacted the Slavery Abolition Act in 1833.  Almost five years later, Dominica was the first colony in the British West Indies to have a legislature comprised of a majority of citizens of African descent. Needless to say, the white plantation owners had issues with that situation, which led to a less representative government. It would not be until 1967 when Dominica was able to take full control of its internal affairs and until 1978 when it became an independent country. 

A view of Roseau, the capitol of Dominica (photo by Mike LaMonaca).

This history, as briefly outlined above, shapes the cultures and cuisine of the Dominican people.  There is a mix of African and indigenous influences, along with British, French and island Creole.  There are also influences from nearby islands, such as Trinidad and St. Lucia.  

MAIN COURSE

Dominica's (unofficial) national dish is known as Mountain Chicken. Despite the name, chicken is not an ingredient in that dish. "Mountain chicken" is the local moniker for the Caribbean's largest frog, which also goes by the names of Crapaud. Herpetologists -- that is, those who study reptiles and amphibians would refer to these frogs as Leptodactylus Fallax.  This frog can grow as large as seven inchs long and weigh over two pounds. That is a good size if one is a frog.

The Mountain Chicken
(source: Natural Museum of History)

The mountain chicken has an important place in the culture of the indigenous peoples of Dominica. Local folklore, songs, poems and even jokes have been written about the frog.  

Some of those works of art tell the story of the mountain chicken, especially what confronts the species.  For example, poet Delroy N. Williams wrote The Crapaud Story, which begins as follows: 

De sey de Crapaud smoked my pipe

but me doh hear no Crapaud last night

An long I doh eat no Crapaud in a stew.

I doh even hear anybody talking about that frog.

Something must definitely be wrong.

To be sure, there is definitely something wrong.  Years of hunting the frog -- with anywhere from 18,000 to 36,000 be caught per year on Dominica -- combined with natural factors, such as a fungus that causes chytridiomycosis, caused a steep decline in the populations of the mountain chicken.  The fungus and its disease is believed to have caused a decline of nearly 80% in 18 months. The situation became so dire, that mountain chicken were no longer seen in the wild. By 2008, people believed the species may have went extinct. Returning to the poem: 

It was once our national emblem

Now reduced to the crannies of de "Station."

If somebody doh talk den nobody go listen

So I glad dat Machel an dem doing something

Cuz de Crapaud is Domincia's blessing.

Dat fungus come out from nowhere

An got us forgetting Crapaud is our heritage. 

We cyah just give up, dat would leave Crapaud in a sad state.

De Chyrid ting is very dangerous

Been around for just a decade

Got Crapaiud in decadence.

Fortunately, people did step up to save the mountain chicken. There has been a study in which the frogs were treated with an anti-fungal drug, which showed some promise. There have also been efforts by the Dominican government and non-profit organizations to protect the species.  These efforts have had some mixed success, but still provide promise to restoring the mountain chicken populations.  As the poem closes: 

From our forests an even our minds

Look we even searching for a new national dish

Want to remove Crapaud from its podium of pride

An reduce it to jus hindsight

But Crapaud stronger dan we think

An wit a likle help fromForestry

Dat frog go leap back unto its pedetal

We go hear Crapaud sing again

We go hear Crapaud after a shower of rain

An den we go really understand.

Cuz de Crapaud is Domincia's blessing.

Dat fungus come out from nowhere

An got us forgetting Crapaud is our heritage. 

The hope in this poem is important.  While some may have to make sacrifices by foregoing their (unofficial) national dish, that effort, combined with scientists and researchers, may provide the basis for that hope to become a reality. 

Turning to my personal culinary challenge, I obviously did not use mountain chicken to make this dish.  Instead, I purchased some frog legs from a local grocery store. That was the easiest part of the preparation.  I had a little more difficulty getting my hands on the "provisions," because not every grocery store has true yams and none of the stores around me had dasheen root. After searching for a while, I decided to make "provisions" with what I could get at the store.  I ultimately used sweet potatoes (which are not yams) and name root. 

The actual preparation of this dish is very easy. It is a simple sauté of the frog legs, a basic gravy, and a simple boil of the provisions.  These processes made me question whether the dish will have any taste. (I have to admit that I am not a big fan of root vegetables, especially if all that is done to them is to boil them.) Nevertheless, I forged ahead and completed the main dish. 

MOUNTAIN CHICKEN WITH PROVISIONS

Recipe from National Foods

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 12-16 frogs' legs
• 2 garlic cloves
• 1 teaspoon minced garlic
• 1 lime, sliced in half
• 1/4 cup flour
• 1 teaspoon vinegar
• 1 onion, sliced
• 1 green bell pepper sliced
• 1 tablespoon butter
• 1 cup water
• 2 dasheen roots (cut into 4 pieces)
• 2 yams (cut into 4 pieces)
• 1/4 teaspoon fresh thyme, minced
• Salt, to taste
• Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Directions:

1. Prepare the frogs' legs.  Rinse the frogs' legs with water and then wash them in lime juice. Rinse the frogs' legs again in cold water.  Dry the frogs' legs and then place them in a bowl.  Season the frogs' legs with the thyme, vinegar, minced garlic, salt and pepper. Let the frogs' legs rest for two hours. 

2. Fry the frogs' legs. Put the flour in a shallow dish and coat each leg in the flour.  Heat the oil on high in a skillet.  Fry the coated frogs' legs until golden brown and set aside.

3.  Prepare the gravy.  Sauté the onion in a mixture of melted butter and one tablespoon of oil.  Add a cup of water, bring to a boil and then add flour to thicken the gravy.  Simmer the gravy for 5 minutes on medium heat.  Add the frog legs to the gravy, cook for a minute and turn off the heat. 

4. Prepare the provisions. Boil the yams and dasheen root in salted water with the green pepper. When the provisions are fork tender, turn off the heat and drain. 

5. Finish the dish. Serve the Mountain Chicken with the provisions, rice and peas. 

*    *    *

In the end, I successfully completed this challenge.  I was quite surprised by the end result.  The gravy provided enough additional flavor to work with not only the frog legs, but also the provisions.  It is a reminder that sometimes the most simplest elements can contribute the most. 

Now, I need to turn to my next challenges.  There is definitely more to come.  Until then, 

ENJOY!

Trinidad Oyster Cocktail

Last year, there was a time when I was making many different oyster shooters.  It all started with the Oyster Shooters with Tomato, Lime and Chiles, which I named the best recipe ever.  It still is the best recipe. Needless to say, I wanted to try different oyster shooter recipes. That led to Andalusian-Inspired Oyster Shooters, which used a gazpacho base for the shooter. Finally, I tried a more traditional oyster shooter recipe, a Sriracha Bloody Mary Oyster Shooter. 

This year, I decided to take the oyster shooter world-wide.  The start is with a recipe for Trinidad Oyster cocktail.  Oysters are a popular street food in Trinidad and Tobago.  The oysters -- crassostrea rhizophorae -- are harvested from the western shores of Trinidad, and/or the Claxton Bay Mangrove System.  The oysters make their way to local markets, such as the market in Marabella, where they would be sold raw or in a cocktail.  

It is that cocktail that is my focus with this recipe.  I found a recipe from someone who could recall eating the oyster cocktail in Marabella.  However, that was over twenty years ago, and, was an approximation based on memory.  The recipe nevertheless provided a good start.  But I made some adjustments to the recipe.  I eliminated the chives, because I did not have any on hand.  I decided to substitute out the water and replace it with beer.  After all, there should be some alcohol in a cocktail, right?  To keep it at least regional, I decided to use either Carib or Red Stripe.  (Given the greater availability of Red Stripe, that beer made its way into the cocktail.) 

Another adjustment, and by far the biggest one, had to be to the amounts of the ingredients.  The original recipe called for 2 oysters, but I had a pint of oysters.  That pint probably had about 10 to 12 oysters. Multiplying that recipe by a factor of five to six would mean that I was using 5 to 6 habanero peppers.  So, I reduced the number of peppers, increased the amount of tomato and added scallions.  When I prepared the base using my approximation of the ingredients, which included only 2 habanero peppers, it was still very spicy and acidic. The addition of the beer cut the acidity and blunted the piquancy of the peppers.  The base was still too spicy for some of my guests, so I cut it further with a pinch or three of sugar.  The sweetness of the sugar balanced the spiciness of the peppers.

My final adjustment was to puree the ingredients together.  My concern with the original recipe is that the cocktail would end up more like a salsa.  The blending of the ingredients allowed for something that looked more like cocktail, a far better liquid in which the raw oysters could "swim." 

In the end, this is not a true Trinidad Oyster Cocktail, at least how it was remembered by the author of the recipe.   It is my version of the cocktail.  And, in the end, every stall in any market inevitably has someone who makes a cocktail in their own way, with their own recipe.  One could try an oyster cocktail from two different sellers and have two different culinary experiences. This is what I love about cooking.  

TRINIDAD OYSTER COCKTAIL

Recipe adapted from CaribbeanPot

Serves 4

Ingredients:

1 pint of oysters, liqueur reserved

3 cloves of garlic, minced

1 bunch of scallions, white portions sliced,

      green portions sliced thinly and reserved

3 tomatoes, seeded and chopped

2 lemons juiced

2 limes juiced

2 small habanero peppers, seeded

1 small bunch of cilantro, chopped

1 cup of beer (preferably Carib or Red Stripe)

A couple pinches of sugar (optional)

Directions:

1.  Prepare the base.  Add the tomatoes, white portions of the scallions, garlic, cilantro, lemon juice, lime juice and habanero peppers to a blender.  Puree until smooth.

2.  Add the beer.  Pour the base into a plastic bowl.  Add the beer.  Taste to determine the spiciness of the base.  At this point, it should be quite hot.  If it is too spicy, you can balance it out with a pinch or two of sugar.  

3.  Finish the cocktail.  Ladle some of the cocktail into a lowball glass or a shooter.  Add 1 to 2 oysters and ladle a little more of the cocktail.  Garnish with the thinly sliced green portions of the scallions.  Serve immediately. 

ENJOY!

Mexican Oyster Cocktail

Oysters have a special place in Maryland and Virginia, one that goes back hundreds of years.  When John Smith navigated the Chesapeake Bay in 1608, he wrote down his observations of everything he saw, including the wildlife.  Smith made two trips in 1608 from Jamestown, Virginia into the Bay.   His notes documented the tremendous diversity of life in the bay: including "sturgeon, grampus, porpoise, seals, stingrays, ... brits, mullets, white salmon (rockfish), trouts, soles, and perch of three sorts ...."  When it came to the Chesapeake Bay oysters, Smith remarked that they "lay as thick as stones." 

A lot has happened over the following four centuries, but it is safe to say that the oysters do not "lay as thick as stones" today in the Bay.  Overfishing, disease, pollution and, yes, maybe even climate change, have contributed to the downfall of oyster stocks in the Bay. According to Sea Grant Maryland, a study by the University of Maryland found that the oyster population is just 0.3% of what it was in the 1800s.  Yet, there are rays of hope in the Delmarva.  Those oyster stocks have stabilized and have even shown the promise of increasing, especially in Maryland.

One of the factors behind the success has been the increase in aquaculture of oysters.  Virginia took the lead in this effort, but Maryland is catching up when it comes to promoting the farming of these important bivalves.  One example of the effort in Maryland is Harris Seafood Company, which is the last packinghouse in Kent Narrows and the last shucking house in the State of Maryland.  Harris has an aquaculture program that enables the grower to plant millions of oysters in the Chesapeake Bay on ground that it leases.  This video provides a very brief explanation of the oyster aquaculture process:

That is just one example.  When it is multiplied by the growing number of aquaculture farms in Maryland and Virginia, the product is the promise that the Chesapeake oyster population can continue to rebound.  And, to state the obvious, that means more oysters for people like me, who love to eat them.

Usually, I buy oysters and shuck them, using skills I learned as a cook in a seafood restaurant while I was in college.  Shucking oysters takes time, because, despite my cooking experience, I lack the true expert skills of a shucker in a shucking house.  When pressed for time, I will purchase a pint of pre-shucked oysters.  Given I have had little time in recent days and weeks, I recently purchased a pint of pre-shucked Maryland oysters from Harris Seafood Company.

When I bought those oysters, I already had a recipe in mind ... a Mexican Oyster Cocktail.  The recipe comes from one of Mario Batali's cookbooks, America Farm To Table, which has a whole chapter dedicated to oysters.  I love all of the recipes, but this cocktail recipe caught my attention.  The reason is that I found it while I was writing the blog post for Oyster Shooters with Tomatoes, Lime and Chiles.  The oyster shooter recipe still stands as the best recipe ever invented, but, l was looking for challengers.

This recipe brings together a lot of ingredients -- tomatoes, scallions, celery, shallots, and chiles -- that provide a good base for an oyster shooter.  All of those ingredients work well together, especially when the lime juice and zest are added.  If there was any issue, it was the relative lack of liquid in the cocktail.  The lime juice does not provide enough liquid for the cocktail.  I strained the oyster liqueur from the pre-shucked oysters and added it to the cocktail, but it was still not enough.  Maybe the next time I make this recipe, I will add some water or, maybe because it is a Mexican oyster cocktail, I will add some tequila.  

MEXICAN OYSTER COCKTAIL

Recipe from Permaquid Oyster Company

Printed in Mario Batali, America Farm to Table, page 61

Serves 4 to 6

Ingredients:

4 ripe plum tomatoes

4 scallions, thinly sliced

1 bunch fresh cilantro, chopped

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1 teaspoon ground cumin

2 ribs celery, sliced paper thin

2 shallots, finely minced

Zest and juice of 3 limes

2 serrano chiles, finely chopped

24 fresh oysters, scrubbed

Kosher salt

Directions:

1.  Prepare the cocktail.  Halve the tomatoes and squeeze the seeds into a bowl..  Chop the tomatoes into 1/4 inch dice and toss them into a bowl.  Add the scallions, cilantro, olive oil, cumin, celery, shallots, lime zest, lime juice, and chiles and mix well, then cover and refrigerate for 1 hour.

2.  Finish the dish.  Shuck the oysters over a strainer set over a small bowl to collect their liquid.  Toss the oysters with their liquor into the mixture and stir gently.  Check for seasoning, it may or may not need salt.  Serve in clear glasses or seafood cocktail servers.

ENJOY!