Buffalo Wings with Homemade BBQ Sauce

I have always loved buffalo wings, and, until recently, I was the only one of the Savage Boleks who enjoyed eating wings. And, for me, the hotter the wing sauce, the better. However, my daughter has started eating wings recently.  She does not like things as spicy as I do, but it is great to have someone who also likes to eat buffalo wings in the family. 

So, I thought it would be great if I prepared a wing sauce with my daughter that would be more to her liking. She is good with barbecue sauces, generally mild, and a little sweet. I went through some recipes and found a basic barbecue sauce recipe that we could make together.  As much as I wanted to try something different (I also had a guava barbecue sauce that I have been wanting to make), it seemed only appropriate to start with the standard sauce. If she liked it, then we could move on to different sauces. 

The recipe that I found had all the basic ingredients that one would expect in a barbecue sauce: ketchup, apple cider vinegar, Worcestershire sauce, honey, and lemon juice. These ingredients create a balance of flavors that clearly tends toward the sweet. The honey and sugar overpower the vinegar, Worchestershire sauce and lemon juice. The sweetness is re-balanced with the black pepper and the dash (or two) of hot sauce. It's a basic barbecue sauce that works well for kids.

As for the wings, I decide to make them in the oven. I am not one for deep frying things at home (I don't want to deal with the oil) and I was unsure that my daughter would like grilled wings. The oven could work well for wings, either baking them or, as I prefer, just sticking them under the broiler. Once they are done, just toss the wings in the sauce and you are ready to go. (Just like they do in a restaurant). 

In the end, my daughter loved the sauce and she ate all of the wings. I have to say it is not my favorite sauce, but I did get to enjoy time with my daughter and a shared meal. That is more important thany anything I could make for myself. 

BUFFALO WINGS WITH HOMEMADE BBQ SAUCE

A Daddy-Daughter Collaboration 

Sauce recipe adapted from Add a Pinch

Ingredients (for the sauce):

• 2 cups ketchup
• 1/2 cup apple cider vinegar
• 1/4 cup packed brown sugar
• 2 tablespoons honey
• 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
• 1 tablespoon lemon juice
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon granulated garlic
• 1/2 teaspoon hot sauce (such as Tabasco sauce)

Ingredients (for the wings):

• 2 dozen buffalo wings
• Kosher salt
• Freshly ground black pepper

Directions:

1. Prepare the sauce. Whisk all of the ingredients (other than the wings) in a medium saucepan situated over medium heat. Allow to come to a bubble and then reduce theheat to low. Allow to simmer until thickened, about 10 minutes. 

2. Prepare the wings. Sprinkle salt and freshly ground pepper over the wings. Arrange the wings on a sheet pan lined with parchment paper. Heat the oven's broiler. Place the wings in the oven and cook for 15 minutes. Turn the wings and cook for 10 minutes more. Turn the wings again one last time, cook for 5 minutes. 

3. Finish the dish. Remove the wings from the oven and add to a large bowl. Add the barbecue sauce and toss the wings. Plate the wings and serve immediately. 

PEACE.

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Namibia

A few years back, I prepared a street food dish, known as Coupe Coupe, as part of my Around the World in 80 Dishes challenge to prepare a main dish from the country of Gabon. As one person noted, the dish combined indigenous ingredients and techniques with colonial influences. Yet, Coupe Coupe is quintessential Gabonnais barbecue, and a street food that one could find in places like Libreville.

When I finished that challenge, I remarked that I needed to prepare more street food as part of my Around the World culinary challenge. Now, I find myself with the challenge to prepare a main course from Namibia, a country that is approximately 2,700 kilometers south of Gabon along the Atlantic coastline of the African continent. And, there is perhaps no better dish to prepare than Kapana, the essential street food experience in Namibia.

Before I talk about Kapana, I must first talk about Namibia, one of the newer countries (having gained its independence in 1990) and one of the most sparsely populated ones (with only 3.1 million people living in a country with 824,292 kilometers) in the 34th largest country in world. (Namibia is larger than California and Montana, but smaller than Texas and, of course, Alaska.) The overwhelming majority of the population -- more than 93% -- are indigenous Africans, with the remainder consisting of groups associated with those who have colonized or sought to colonize the land in the past, such as Afrikaners, British, Dutch, and Portuguese. 

Colonization left its mark on the indigenous people in more ways than one. During the early twentioeth century, when the land was known as German South West Africa, the Germans committed genocide against the indigenous Herero peoples, killing 80% of them, and the Nama people, killing 50% of them). The survivors lost everything, and were subjected to forced labor, racial segregation and discrimination. While Germans lost control of the land after World War I, the South Africans moved in and took control of "South West Africa," imposing apartheid, separating the white  Afrikaaners from the indigenous peoples, with the latter living in the developing areas while the former were left outside. When independence came, Namibia transitioned into a stable parliamentary semi-presidential republic (that is, it has a President and a Prime Minister).

While the colonists are gone, their influences remain behind, especially in the cuisine of Namibia. Nowhere is that more obvious than in the culture that has developed around the grilling of meat, especially beef.  

At the meat market in Namibia (Source: Trip Advisor)

Beef has a special place Namibia. It is reported that there are nearly one million more cows in Namibia than people. Thus, cattle and beef play an important in the economy. In the past, cattle, along with sheep and goats, would be raised by Namibian corporations, as well as family farmers, and then sent to the abbatoir for butchering. The cuts would then make their way into the local market or be exported. However, in recent years, there has been a trend of exporting live cattle. One study suggested that the farms and farmers export the cattle perhaps because they could get higher prices from foreign buyers for younger cattle in countries like South Africa rather than butchering the beef locally. Yet, the same study suggested that fully grown cattle may fetch even higher prices at Namibian abbatoirs. Given Namibian farmers do not use growth enhancers, it takes longer for the cattle to grow, which suggests some farmers may just be looking to make money quicker than investing the time to fully raise the cows. This creates long term issues for the abbatoirs, which struggle to remain productive and profitable. 

While more cows may be headed out of the country, beef still plays a central role in Namibian cuisine. The per calorie intake of beef in Namibia is the highest in Africa, rivalling the intake of western countries like Canada. Indeed, much like a braai in South Africa, the grilling of meat is not just a preparation of a meal, it is a social and cultural event in Namibia. And it goes by the term ... kapana.

MAIN COURSE

And, for this culinary challenge, I have tasked myself with preparing kapana. One quick note to start: there appears to be some dispute over terminology. The word kapana means "fry" or "grill" in Oshiwambo (the language of the Ovambo people, an indigenous group in Namibia). Thus, it more than likely refers to the process, and perhaps even the marketplace where it is prepared. By contrast, the name for the grilled beef dish is otete.

The kapana, that is the marketplace, usually consists of a long line of stalls where each grill master works with their own charcoal grill. (The above picture illustrates such a market.) One cannot simply set up their own stand at the marketplace, as the stalls are regulated. However, individuals can set up their own kapana stalls, selling grilled pork, beef and other meats, in other locations. 

Kapana, the process, begins with the grill master (who are mostly men) acquiring a large cut of well marbled beef, along with perhaps some organ meat (like livers or kidneys). The exact cut of meat is typically a secret, for reasons that I will explain later. The grill master will then slice the meat against the grain into long, thin strips. The meat is then placed on the grill, usually without any seasoning, with the fat on top to keep the beef moist, and then cooked until it is at least medium. People get the grill masters attention and then order their meat as it cooks. Once it is done, the grill master will cut the meat into bite-sized pieces, which is then served alongside a salsa consisting of tomatoes, onions and chiles, and a small mound of kapana spice, which is usually in a cardboard box in front of the grill. As Stephanie Haines, a contributor to the Christian Science Monitor described the experience, "[w]hen it's cooked right, the beef is moist and smoky, the salty fat is crispy on the outside and chewy on the inside, like a grilled hunk of cheese. 

One final note: kapana is something that unites all Namibians, regardless of social or economic status. Grillmasters often incorporate cheaper cuts of beef along with the well-marbled ones, which helps to reduce their costs and offer their product to the less well off people in the community. People gather around the stalls, to talk and eat, making the marketplace an impropromptu gathering place. 

Oshetu Community Market (Source: Evendo.com) 

The place for kapana is the Oshetu Community Market (also known as Single Quarters). The market is located in Katutura, a township within Namibia's capital of Windhoek. The name, Katatura translates from Otjiherero, the language of the indigenous Hererero peoples, as "the place where people did not want to live." The township was not their home; the South Africans created it as part of their apartheid policies, forcibly removing indigenous Africans from their homes and relocating them to the township. Now, the township has the marketplaces where people go for kapana.  

As for me, I will be preparing kapana using my backyard grill. I found a recipe online and decided to use sirloin steak, as it was economical (relatively speaking) and produced long strips when sliced (relatively speaking). Given I was using a gas grill (as noted above, charcoal was preferred), I decided to use some of the kapana spice (recipe below) for a quick marinade of the meat. The spice mix incorporates smoked paprika, which helps to create the smoky elements of kapana when using a gas grill. It was a brief marinade, probably no more than 15 minutes, given I was dealing with thin slices of meat. As for the salsa, I decided to go with a jalapeno pepper for the chile, although I did give some thought to a Scotch Bonnet chile. If there had been serrano peppers at the store, I probably would have gone with those chiles. Needless to say, when I was done, the beef was amazing, both on its own, as well as with the salsa and some additional spice mix on the side. 

KAPANA (OTETE)

Recipe adapted from Esterkocht and International Cuisine

Serves 10

Ingredients (for the meat):

• 3 pounds of well marbled beef steak (like ribeye)
• 2 teaspoons Kapana spice mix
• 2 tablespoons of sunflower oil or olive oil

Ingredients (for the sauce/salsa):

• 2 tomatoes, chopped finely
• 1 onion, chopped finely
• 1 chile pepper (according to heat preference), minced
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1/2 tablespoon white vinegar

Directions:

1. Prepare the meat. Cut the meat into long, interconnected strips. Place the beef streps in a casserole dish. Add the kapana and oil. Using your hands, rub the meat very well. Cover with cling film and chill for about 1 hour. In the meantime, make the fire and let the grill heat up. 

2. Prepare the sauce/salsa. Combine all of the sauce/salsa ingredients together. Mix well and set aside.

3. Grill the meat. About 10 minutes before grilling, take the meat out of the fridge to bring it to room temperature. Place the meat on the grill (whose temperature should be about 350 degrees Fahrenheit). grill for 3 minutes and then fip to the other side. Grill for another 3 minutes. Turn the meat again and grill for 2 minutes. Turn one more time and grill for two minutes. (These times may vary depending upon the thickness of the beef strips.) 

SPICE MIX

From what I have learned, the kapana spice mix is usually served alongside the kapana. However, some recipes (like the one I have included above) call for marinating the beef, albeit briefly, by spreading some of the spice mix over the meat. Given that is how I traditionally prepare meat for barbecue here in the United States, that seems like a reasonable approach, even if it takes us a little bit away from the traditional kapana in Namibia. 

Setting aside that issue, this spice mix is amazing. It has both smoky and spicy elements, which are rounded out with the use of ginger, coriander, and brown sugar. Quite frankly, it is better than many of the barbecue rubs that I have made or bought. This mix may well become my go to grilling spice mix going forward into the future. 

KAPANA SPICE MIX

Recipe from Esterkocht

Ingredients:

• 1 tablespoon garlic powder
• 1 tablespoon onion powder
• 1/4 teaspoon ground coriander
• 1 tablespoon smoked paprika
• 1 tabelspoon sweet paprika
• 1 teaspoon red chile flakes
• 1 tablespoon dried thyme
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon ground mustard
• 1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1 tablespoon brown sugar
• 1 tablespoon ground ginger
• 1 teaspoon ground pepper 

Directions:

Combine all of the ingredients together and mix well. Let the rub infuse for a few days for the flavors to med together before using. The spice mix will keep for a few months if sotred in an airtight container in a cool and dry place. 

*     *     *

This challenge cemented the place of street food as part of my Around the World in 80 Dishes challenge. The kapana was amazing, perhaps the best beef dish that I have had in quite a while.  Not only that, it probably resulted in my go-to spice mix for pretty much anything that I grill or smoke. Now, I will be off to find some more street food recipes that can serve as challenges in the future. Until next time ...  

PEACE.

Carne Arrustuta

Years ago, I would spend a lot of time researching recipes for a specific weekly event: Steak Night. I would find various beef and steak recipes from around the world, and, prepare them for my own dinner. It was my dinner because, for one thing, my beautiful Angel does not eat red meat, and, for another, that night I ate alone because she had a weekly work obligation in the evening. 

If one were to go back and look at the record (my prior posts), the would discover that Steak Nights often featured massive cuts of beef, like the Chef Bolek's Two-Pound Ribeye. They would also see that I often served a sauce alongside that hunk of meat, like the chimichurri sauce that I served alongside my Smoked Ribeye Roast, Uruguayan Asado Style. Sometimes, I would finish everything in one sitting; other times, the leftovers would be lunches for the next day. 

However, I stopped posting Steak Night recipes back in 2018. I did so for a few reasons. First, those massive steaks were expensive (and are even more so today). Second, I decided to reduce my own red meat intake by limiting the occasions in which I prepared beef or steak. That, along with an increased focus on projects like my Around the World in 80 Dishes and Beyond Borders, led my cooking in other directions.  

However, I return to my Steak Night tradition with this dish, Carne Arrustata, which is Italian for "roasted meat." It is a Sicilian grilled steak recipe. The history of this dish is unknown, as there are few recipes with even fewer details about the dish. Yet, the raising of cows, along with their products, whether milk, cheese and beef, has a long history in Sicily, going as far back as the sixth millenium B.C.E. Indeed, the raising of cattle -- whether it is the Cinsara breed or the Modicana breed (one of the best triple purpose cattle breeds [that is, cattle for milk, meat and draft power]) -- in what is now known as Sicily goes back centuries. Yet, it does not get the same attention as, for example, the raising of Chianina cattle in Tuscany. Nor do Sicilian beef dishes garner the same attention as, for example, the Tuscan Bistecca alla Fiorentina. 

Modicana cattle (Source: Slow Food Foundation for Biodiversity)

I have made that bistecca recipe on many occasions, and, on this particular, one, I wanted to do something different. So, for this Steak Night, I decided to make Carne Arrustata. I also had another reason for taking Steak Night to the most southern reaches of the Appenine peninsula: salmoriglio. It is a sauce featured in the cuisines of Sicily and Calabria that is prepared with, among other things, parsley, oregano, lemon juice, lemon zest, olive oil and water. The combination of steak and this sauce seemed natural for two reasons. First, the recipe for carne arrustuta called for marinating the meat in a marinade that included lemon juice and lemon zest, which creates ties between the steak and the sauce. Second, salmoriglio got me really thinking about Argentine and Uruguayan chimichurris. There are similarities, as chimichurri recipes feature the combination of green herbs like parsley and oregano; and there are differences, namely, salmoriglio lacks the heavy emphasis on garlic that are found in chimichurri sauces. Those differences make salmoriglio a lighter, brighter sauce that (admittedly) would probably go better with chicken or seafood. Yet, the oil and herbs do enough to complete even grilled beef dishes, like Carne Arrustata. 

Finally, as with many of my recipes, I like to think of the journey embodied in the recipe. While I have been to Italy, I have never made it as far south as Sicily. Yet, as I prepared this dish, I like to picture myself as a cook in Sicily who was preparing the dish for guests, whether in a small restaurant down an  side street of a Sicilian village or at an agritourismo located out in the Sicilian countryside. I still fondly remember my visit to Montestigliano, an agritourismo in the hills of Tuscany, where I had an equisite dinner prepared by a local chef. Those memories provided the inspiration that led to my renewed love to cook, as well as the idea of creating this blog.  

CARNE ARRUSTUTA

Recipe from A Sicilian Peasant's Table

Serves 4

Ingredients (for the steak):

• 1 (1.5 pound) top sirloin, London broil, ribeye or any other cut of steak
• 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
• 1 garlic clove
• 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
• Sicilian sea salt
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
• 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano leaves
• 2 teaspoons green onion, finely sliced (optional)
• 1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper (optional)
• 2 dried bay leaves (crumbled)

Ingredients (for the arugula salad):

• 3 cups arugula
• 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
• 1 tablespoon red wine or balsamic vinegar
• 1/4 cup shaved parmesan cheese (substitute Pecorino Siciliano or Maichino if you want to use Sicilian cheeses and can find them)
• Sicilian sea salt
• Freshly ground black pepper

Directions:

1. Marinate the steak. Wipe the steak dry with a paper towel and place in a small baking dish. Crush the garlic clove with a garlic press or mash a small amount with salt on a wooden board using the flat side of a chef knife. Rub half of the olive oil and garlic evenly on each side of the steak. Drizzle the lemon juice on both sides and season with salt and pepper to taste. Then sprinkle half of the lemon zest, oregano, bay leaves, green onion and red pepper (if using) on each side of the steak. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 4 to 6 hours. Remove the steak from the refrigerator 1 hour before you cook it. 

2. Grill the steak. Preheat a gas grill on medium high or prepare a medium high charcoal fire. Grill approximately 8 to 9 minutes on each side for medium rare or until a thermometer inserted into the thickest part reads 125 degrees Fahrenheit. Transfer the steak to a cutting board and cover loosely with foil. Let rest for 10 minutes. the steak will continue to cook. Cut into thin slices.

3. Prepare the salad. Combine the arugula, olive oil and vinegar in a medium bowl. Season with salt and pepper. Toss in the shaved parmesan. Transfer to a serving platter. Top with sliced steak.

*     *     *

Post-Script: I decided to ask AI for an image of a Sicilian farmhouse agritourismo with Carne Arrustata on its menu. AI gave me the following picture: 

Created by AI

A nice picture but I am sure that it pales in comparison to the actual experience of visiting an agritourismo nestled in the coutryside. 

PEACE.

Turkey Giblets a la Bourgeoisie

"... if it be true that real happiness consists in making others happy, the author can at least feel a sense of gratification in the thought that his attempts to satisfy the cravings of the inner man have not been wholly un-appreciated by the any he has had the pleasure of serving...."

-- Rufus Estes

Rufus Estes has a story, and quite the story it is. He was born a slave in 1857 in Murray County, Tennessee. He was the youngest of a family that included seven boys and two girls, all of whom -- with their mother -- were owned by D.J. Estes. When the Civil War broke out, the male slaves ran away to join the Union forces, leaving the younger kids to work the plantations. Rufus carried water from the spring to the house, drove cattle to and from the pasture, and did other work. 

After the war ended, Rufus's mother moved her family to Nashville, Tennessee. Rufus sought work, whether it was milking cows (for which he was paid $2.00 per month) or carrying hot dinners to workers in the field (for which he was paid $0.25 per month), Rufus gave all of his earnings to his mother. By the age of sixteen, Rufus got work at Hemphills, a fine dining establishment in Nashville. By the age of twenty-four, he had emigrated north and found a job at a restaurant in Chicago. 

Rufus Estes

Two years later, Rufus Estes started on a track that would define the rest of his life. He got a job with the Pullman Service, which he held for fourteen years. Estes recalled that "some of the most prominent people in the world traveled in the car assigned to me, as I was selected to handle all special parties." The "special parties" included Henry Morton Stanley, the explorer; two Presidents, Grover Cleveland and Benjamin Harrison; and many others.  After leaving the Pullman Service, Estes was hired to run a private car for the president of the Kansas City, Pittsburg & Gould Railroad, which he worked from 1897 to 1907, and, thereafter, he worked as a chef for United States Steel Corporation in Chicago. 

After a career of serving as a chef to the rich and powerful, Rufes Estes became an author, writing Good Things to Eat as Suggested by Rufus: A Collection Practical Recipes for Preparing Meats, Game, Fowl, Fish, Puddings, Pastries, Etc. Published in 1911, his book represents one of the first cookbooks written and published by an African American chef. The recipes contained in that cookbook represent, in Estes' own words, "the labor of years." Estes' labor opens windows into the past, offering glimpses of what people prepared and ate during the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries, as well as views of what the elite ate in the palace cars that ran the rails from coast to coast. Dishes such as Bird's Nest Salad to Turkey Truffles (a "fat turkey" stuffed with a mixture that includes three to four pounds of truffles), that is not all, it also gives us a view into what the working class and poor ate as well, like Codfish Hash or Broiled Pig's Feet. 

I read Good Things to Eat and decided to prepare a recipe suggested by Rufus Estes. I wanted a recipe that could bridge the gap between the poor and the rich.  I wanted to prepare something that could have been just as likely to have been prepared for a working class person as it would some rich perosn. I found that dish in Turkey Giblets a la Bourgoisie. Estes's recipe uses the parts of a turkey -- the heart, gizzard, liver and turkey neck -- that most people would discard (especially today), and elevate those ingredients in a delicious way. The recipe produces a wonderful small plate or appetizer that can precede a roast turkey meal. I would suggest serving this dish with some toasted slices of bread, which guests could use to eat the flavorable mixture of turkey and herbs. 

Given I still have Rufus Estes's book, I plan on making more dishes suggested by the accomplished chef. All of these recipes, like this one, are part of my historical cooking journeys that are catalogued in my Federal Project Number One. So, please check it out every once in a while. Until then ....

TURKEY GIBLETS A LA BOURGOISIE

Recipe from Rufus Estes, Good Things to Eat

Serves 2-3

Ingredients:

• Turkey giblets (pinions, feet, neck and gizzard)
• Piece of butter
• Flat leaf parsley
• Sprig of thyme
• Green onions
• Garlic, 1 clove
• Bay Leave
• Flour, spoonful
• Stock, spoonful
• Salt
• Pepper

Directions:

The giblets of the turkey consist of the pinions, feet, neck and gizzard. After having scalded pick them well and put in a saucepan wiht a piece of butter, some parsley, green onions, clove of garlic, sprig of thyme, bay leaf, a spoonful of fluor moistened with stock, salt and pepper. Brown to a good color. 

PEACE.

Chicken Tikka Masala

As the story goes, it all began the Shish Mahal, which is currently located at the corners of West Prince's Street and Park Road. It was the 1970s, and, the owner of the restaurant - Ali Ahmed Aslam - was confronted by customers who complained that his tandoori chicken tikka was slightly dry. Chicken tikka, is actually a kebab of boneless chicken chunks cooked in a tandoor oven. Apparently, at the time, Aslam was perhaps cooking his kebabs a little too long. The complaints motivated the owner to respond by adding a creamy tomato sauce. The end result was the first serving of Chicken Tikka Masala. 

I have prepared Chicken Tikka in the past. However, until very recently, I have never went the additional step to add the creamy tomato sauce.  The recipe came from an unlikely place ... Ayurvedic cooking. I have always thought that Ayurvedic cuisine focused heavily on vegetables. That thought was reinforced by many of the recipes that I came across as I was researching ways to improve my cooking. Not that vegetables are a bad thing, I have quite a few Ayurvedic vegetable recipes that I want to make. But, I still remain an omnivore, and, protein (in some form) still remains a significant part of my diet. 

Yet, as I have learned, Ayurvedic cuisine does not completely take chicken off the table. The cuisine definitely promotes vegetarianism as it helps to promote higher consciousness. It does include chicken (and turkey) dishes because Ayurveda recognizes those proteins as something that has a range of chicken dishes in its repertoire. Chicken is considered nourishing and warming, something that can balance certain doshas (like Vata and Pitta). In taking an ayurvedic test, my results labeled me as Vata with some Kapha. As I searched for recipes that would fit this profile, I found one for Chicken Tikka Masala. 

The recipe has some modifications that make it healthier, such as the use of chicken breasts instead of chicken thighs. The one modification that specifically addresses a Vata dosha is the addition of four tablespoons of coconut milk. That also helps to add to the creaminess of the sauce. It also made this dish a little lighter than the Chicken Tikka Masala that I have gotten at restaurants, which is okay given the reason why I made it. And, why I will make it again ... and again. 

CHICKEN TIKKA MASALA

Recipe from Tomas Yareda, et al., Eat Taste Heal, pg. 267

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 4 skinless chicken breast halves
• 1/4 cup organic plain yogurt
• 2 tablespoons sunflower oil or ghee
• 1 tablespoon lemon or lime juice
• 4 tablespoons organic tomato paste
• 2 teaspoons curry powder
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon chile powder
• 2 teaspoons paprika
• 1 teaspoon minced garlic
• 1 teaspoon grated ginger
• 1/4 teaspoon ground turmeric
• 6 kari leaves, chopped or 1 tablespoon chopped fresh mint
• 4 tablespoons coconut milk

Directions:

1. Prepare the chicken. Make several deep slits over the meaty side of each chicken breast. Put the chicken in a baking dish, bone down.

2. Prepare the sauce. In a mixing bowl, whisk the yogurt, sunflower oil (or ghee), lemon (or lime) juice, tomato paste, curry powder, salt, chile powder, paprika, garlic ginger, turmeric, coconut milk, and kari leaves (or fresh mint). Spread the yogurt mixture over the chicken evenly. Cover and refrigerate for at least 3 hours or overnight. 

3. Bake the chicken. Preheat the oven to 475 degrees Fahrenheit. Transfer chicken and marinade to a baking pan and cook until tender, about 25 minutes. 

PEACE.

Tsam-Thuk (Tsampa Soup)

"Rise up, all tsampa-eating Tibetans"

-- Protest Chant of Tibetan Monks (2008)

Tibet and the Tibetan people can trace their history back to 604 C.E. That history alternated between long periods of independence and periods of occupation. For nearly 75 years, Tibetans have experienced the latter, with Tibet -- or as it is currently known, the Tibet Autonomous Region, -- has been under the control of the People's Republic of China ("PRC"). 

Chinese control over Tibet has not been very easy to maintain. When the Chinese formally annexed Tibet in 1951, the communists claimed a territory and a people who had significiant cultural and social differences. At first blush, the traditional Tibetan society and economy, which was more feudal in nature, was exactly the type of system that the communists sought to eradicate. However, the Chinese communists granted autonomy to the Tibetans, allowing their culture, society and economy to continue, albeit with the presence of twenty thousand communist soldiers in the area. 

There were reasons for such autonomy. China faced a huge problem: namely, there were no roads connecting Tibet with mainland China. Resupplies required pack animals and long treks over the mountains. Thus, the Chinese soldiers stationed in Tibet were completely dependent upon the Tibetans for food. One interesting story to emerge out of that time period involved hungry Chinese soldiers. They knew very little about Tibetan cuisine, and, when they saw tsampa (roasted barley flour), they tried to relate it to something they were familiar with, such as rice or wheat. Yet, when the Chinese soldiers ate tsampa, they choked and gagged on the roasted flour.  

Finely ground roasted barley, also known as Tsampa.

As an aside, I have previously walked the "Tsampa Path," exploring the cultivation of barley in Tibet, as well as the preparation of the ground flour. It was part of my effort to be more mindful of my cooking, which, in part, involved an effort to incorporate Buddhist principles in what I prepared. I even established my own practice of eating tsampa every morning, although it has been hard to keep up.

Returning to the story, the roasted barley flour quickly became a symbol of Tibetan identity. It emerged as a culinary distinction that separated the Tibetans from the Han Chinese (who are the majority ethnic group in the People's Republic of China). This distinction, in turn, became a rallying cry to unite Tibetans in the years after the Chinese annexation of their homeland. In 1952, the year after the formal annexation of Tibet by China, the editor of the Tibetan language newspaper The Tibet Mirror, Dorje Tharchin Babu (a staunch anti-communist) wrote a letter to his fellow Tibetans: 

We, the tsampa eaters, chuba wearers, dice players, raw and dry meat eaters, followers of Buddhism, Tibetan language speakers, the people from the Three Circuits of Ngari (Ngari Korsum), Four Hours of Central Tibet (U-Tsang Ru-Zhi), Six Ranges of Eastern Tibet (Dokham Gangdrug) and the Thirteen Myiarchies of Tibet (Bod Trik-khor Chuksum) we must make an effort to end the [Chinese] occupation.

Thus, to be Tibetan is to be a tsampa-eater, or po mi tsmasey. And, a few years later in 1956, The Tibetan Mirror called upon "tsampa-eaters" to "unite their minds" and "stand up." Tibetans eventually stood up in the 1959 uprising; however, the Chinese communists won that battle. In its aftermath, the Chinese government cracked down on Tibetan society. The autonomy was gone, the communist policies would be formally (and brutally) imposed upon Tibet as they were elsewhere around the country.

While many Tibetans lost their lives in 1959, along with their autonomy, their collective identity survived. The Tibetans residing in the Tibetan Autonomous Region held onto their culture, and their cuisine, especially barley, even while the newly arrived Han Chinese settled in the region, bringing their preference for rice or wheat. Uprisings would erupt from time to time, but the Chinese hold over the Tibetan Autonomous Region remained firm. 

In 2008, the tsampa-eater identity re-emerged as protests commenced again, this time with 300-400 Buddhist monks from the Drepung Monastery marching for religious freedom. They were met with violence by Chinese police, who arrested 60 of the monks. The next day, another 300-400 Buddhist monks from the Sera monastery when to march for the release of their brothers. They too encountered police violence, and more were arrested. A few days later, more monks tried to protest, but they were blocked from leaving their monastery. Violence erupted, that led to burning and destruction of buildings and stores owned and operated by Han and Hui (eastern-Asian Muslims). The calls evolved from the release of imprisoned monks to the independence of Tibet and its people. The response was yet another crackdown.

But, Chinese crackdowns could not break the Tibetan identity. In the following years, such as 2009, Tibetan monks called upon "tsampa eaters" to "rise up." Tsampa itself became part of the protest, with protestors eating tsampa and throwing the ground barley flour into the air during demonstrations. In 2012, tsampa eating made its way into rap, as NPR noted in an article back in 2019. A Tibetan rapper named Shapaley wrote a song and produced a music video about Tsampa and the Tibetan identity. The video is below: 

The music is very catchy, and the lyrics sum up the centrality of tsampa in the Tibetan identity better than I have done in this entire post. (That is almost always the case when someone discusses their own experiences, as opposed to another trying to recount them.) While I may not be a Tibetan, I am a tsampa-eater in solidarity with them.

I am happy to say that my tsampa eating now includes Tsam-Thuk, a Tibetan soup recipe. Tsampa plays and important role as a thickener. The preparation begins with the ground barley flour being mixed with bone broth or beef broth to create smooth base, which is then made into the consistency of soup with more broth. The additional ingredients include onions, radishes and beef, which is found in versions made in Tibet's capital, Lhasa (as rural versions are prepared with yak meat). The soup is then finished with baby spinach and melted butter. I decided I wanted a soup with a thicker consistency, so I only used 2 cups of water (in actuality, I just used the rest of the beef broth, to avoid any waste). The end result is a very delicious and hearty soup (which one needs when they live at the altitudes of Tibet). 

TSAM-THUK (TSAMPA SOUP)

Recipe from Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Daguid, 

Beyond the Great Wall, pg. 47

Ingredients:

• 1.25 cups of Tsampa (or substitute 1 cup barley flour dry roasted in a skillet until golden)
• 1/4 pound daikon radish (about 1/2 small radish)
• 6 cups of Tibetan bone broth (or substitute beef broth or chicken broth)
• 2 tablespoons peanut oil, vegetable oil, or butter
• 1/2 medium onion, thinly sliced
• 1/2 pound to 3/4 pound boneless beef round or sirloin steak, cut into strips about 1.5 to 2 inches long and 1/4 inch wide
• 2-3 cups water
• 1.5 to 2 cups baby spinach leaves or coarsely chopped regular spinach
• 2 tablespoons butter

Directions:

1. Prepare the ingredients. To make sure that the tsampa or roasted flour is fine enough, pass it through a fine sieve. Set aside. Peel the daikon radish, then grate it on a coarse greater into long strands.

2. Prepare the broth. Pour 3 cups of the broth into a heavy pot (4 quarts is a good size) and bring to a boil. Add the tsampa or roasted flour and stir until smooth. Add the remaining 3 cups of broth and bring to a boil. Add the radish strands and simmer until tender, about 10 minutes. 

3. Prepare the other ingredients. Meanwhile, heat the oil or butter in a heavy skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and sauté gently for several minutes. Add the meat strips and 1/2 teaspoon salt, raise the heat to medium high and cook turning once, until just the beef has changed color, about 3 minutes. Use tongs to lift out the meat and set it aside on a plate. Add the onion and oil or butter to the soup. 

4. Deglaze the pan. To deglaze the skillet, place the pan over high heat and add a cup of water and bring to a boil. Scrape the bottom of the pan with a spatula to detach any browned bits or caramelized juices, then add the flavored water to the soup. (The recipe can be prepared ahead to this point and set aside for up to 1 hour. Or let cool, refrigerate for up to 36 hours. Bring the soup to a simmer before proceeding.)

5. Finish the dish. Add 1 cup more of water to the soup and bring back to a simmer. Add the meat and bring back to a simmer. Add extra water if you wish a thinner broth. Taste for salt and add up to 2 more teaspoons if necessary. Add the spinach leaves to the simmering broth. When they turn bright green, after a minute or two, add the butter and stir to blend it in. Serve the soup hot in large bowls with bread, or with rice if you prefer. 

PEACE.

Awaze Wings

Ethiopia is well known for its spice blends, most notably berbere, a very spicy mix consisting of ground chiles, cardamom, fenugreek, ginger and other ingredients. The country is also known for its sauces, such as awaze.  It is this sauce that served as an inspiration for this post. 

I came across a recipe for an awaze sauce that could be used for barbecue ribs. The recipe was fairly simple, clarified butter, berbere spice mix, rosemary and ground cardamom. I decided to take this recipe, adapt it a little, and use it for a buffalo wing sauce. 

The first modification to the recipe was the berbere spice mix. You can probably find pre-made berbere in an Ethiopian market or at Penzey's. Alternatively, you can do what I do and make your own spice mix. I prepared my own berbere, using a recipe from Huntler, Angler, Gardener, Cook, which is a great resource from author Hank Shaw. 

True awaze uses clarified butter, which I have in my refrigerator; however, my second modification was to go a slightly different route. I decided to stick with Hank Shaw's recipe, which uses water or oil to create a berbere paste. I used oil and, given that choice, I decided to forego the clarified butter. I have enough "fat" being used in the wings with the oil, which I added a little more to make the paste into a rough marinade sauce.

Finally, I decided that I would grill the wings. This decision is based upon my growing preference for grilled wings, especially over fried ones and even roasted wings.  

Overall, these are perhaps the spiciest wings that I have prepared as part of my Wings Around the World project. I recognize that the preparation is not a true Ethiopian awaze, but I will make up for it in the future with a traditional awaze recipe, such as tibs. Until then ...

AWAZE WINGS

Recipe adapted from The Food Network; Berbere Recipe from Hunter Angler Gardener Cook

Serves 3-4

Ingredients:

• 12 chicken wings (drummettes and flats)
• Kosher salt
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 1 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
• 12 cardamom pods
• 2 large shallots minced
• 6 cloves garlic, minced
• 3 tablespoons vegetable oil or peanut oil
• 2 tablespoons grated fresh ginger
• 1 tablespoon salt
• 2 tablespoons paprika
• 3 tablespoons cayenne
• 1 teaspoon turmeric
• 1 teaspoon fenugreek
• Water

Directions:

1. Prepare the rub. Toast all of the whole spices in a dry pan over medium heat until they are fragrant. Set aside. In the same pan, heat the oil and sweat the shallots and garlic over medium heat. Do not let them turn color. Turn off the heat and set aside. Grind the whole spices in a spice grinder and then mix with the powdered spices. Add the shallots and garlic to a food processor, then add the spices and drizzle in water or oil as you buzz it on low. 

2. Cook the chicken wings. Heat a grill on medium high heat. Rinse the chicken wings and pat them dry. Season with salt and pepper. Spread the paste on the wings so that they covered all over. Oil the grates of the grill and place the chicken wings on the grill. Grill for about seven minutes and then flip the wings, grilling them for about seven minutes more. Watch to make sure the rub does not burn, if it starts to blacken, move the wings to a cooler part of the grill and extend the cooking time. 

3. Finish the dish. Once the wings reach an internal temperature of 165 degrees Fahrenheit, remove them from the grill.  

PEACE.

Lamb Stir-Fry with Potatoes and Pine Nuts

Chinese dishes always catch my attention, especially when they involve the use of unusual ingredients or give nods to regional cuisine. This particular dish -- Lamb Stir-Fry with Potatoes and Pine Nuts -- checks off both boxes. 

First, there are the pine nuts. That happens to be an ingredient that I do not use very often in my cooking. It is also an ingredient that I did not associate with Chinese cuisine. I was wrong on that point. There are quite a few dishes across trhe various Chinese regions that incorporate pine nuts, including dishes from my favorite region, culinarily speaking, Sichuan. 

That brings me to the other ingredients featured in this lamb recipe, namely, Chinese chile oil and red Sichuan pepper oil. The reason why I love Sichuan cuisine is the use of peppers to create spicy dishes. Most of the Sichuan dishes that I have made to date -- from Qiatou Yi Nen to Jiaoma Jipian -- feature chicken. So, cooking with lamb was a nice change of pace. 

The oils presented some challenge, at least when it came to acquiring them. I had some difficulty finding in them in Asian markets, although the difficulty was greater when it came to the red Sichuan pepper oil.  I also spent some time looking online; however, my relative unfamiliarity with a lot of the websites and products made me a little reluctant to try to the oils. Eventually, I took a risk and I think the dish turned out well. 

In the end, this dish got me thinking about going back to some of my cookbooks, especially the one by Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid, Beyond the Great Wall. There may be more of those recipes to come. Only time will tell ....

LAMB STIR-FRY WITH POTATOES AND PINE NUTS

Recipe from Saveur

Serves 2

Ingredients:

• 3 tablespoons vegetable oil, divided
• 2 tablespoons soy sauce, divided
• 1 tablespoon Shaoxing wine
• 1 teaspoon sugar, divided
• 1/2 teaspoon cornstarch
• 9 ounces boneless lamb leg, cut into 1 1/2inch by 1/4 inch strips
• 1 Yukon Gold potato, peeled and thinly sliced
• 2 tablespoons red Sichuan pepper oil
• 1 1/2 teaspoon oyster sauce
• 1/2 teaspoon sesame oil
• 1 tablespoon finely chopped garlic
• 1 1/4 teaspoon finely chopped fresh ginger
• 2 scallions, coarsely chopped
• 1 medium onion, thinly sliced
• 1-2 tablespoons Chinese chile oil (optional)
• 2 tablespoons pine nuts, toasted
• Chopped cilantro, for serving

Directions:

1. Prepare the lamb. In a medium bowl, stir together 1 1/2 teaspoons of vegetable oil, 1 tablespoon of soy sauce, the Shaoxing wine, 1/2 teaspoon of the sugar and corn starch. Add the lamb and turn to coat, then cover and refrigerate for 40 minutes or up to 24 hours. 

2. Prepare the potato. In a medium pot, cook the potato until tender yet firm, about 2-3 minutes, then drain and set aside. 

3. Prepare the sauce. In a small bowl, stir together half of the Sichuan pepper oil, 1 tablespoon of the vegetable oil, the oyster sauce, sesame oil and the remaining soy sauce and sugar. Set aside. 

4. Cook the dish. Place a large wok or skillet over high heat. When it is hot, add 1 tablespoon of the vegetable oil and add the lamb and stir-fry until browned, 2-3 minutes. Transfer to a bowl. To the empty wok, add the remaining vegetable oil, the garlic, ginger, and scallions and stir-fry until fragrant, 30-60 seconds. Add the onion and cook until tender 3-4 minutes. Add the reserve potato and continue stir-frying until browned at the edges, about 3 minutes. Add the reserved lamb, leaving any juices in the bowl, and the Sichuan oil mixture and stir-fry to coat, about 2 minutes. Stir in the chile oil (if using), then transfer to a platter.

5. Finish the dish. Top with the remaining Sichuan pepper oil, pine nuts and cilantro. Serve hot with white rice. 

PEACE.

Sosaties

Admittedly, I have never been to South Africa. But, if I were to visit the country (and, hopefully, someday I will), I would like to find myself in a backyard of a friend's house, as charcoal smoke gently wafts from a grill, surrounded by family and friends, whose chatter competes with the sizzle of lamb and apricot skewers on the grill grate. 

Yes, if I had the chance, I would love to attend a braai in which, among other meats and sausages, the grillmaster was carefully watching the grilling of sosaties. These lamb and apricot skewers are among my most favorite kebabs, on the level with Persian barreh kebabs or Nigerian suya kebabs. Yet, what sets apart South African sosaties is the use of apricots alongside onions and lamb, as opposed to peppers, tomatoes or other ingredients. 

Sosaties originate with South Africa's Cape Malay community. Historically, the Cape Malay people are the descendents of Muslim slaves brought to southern Africa by colonizers, originally from the Dutch East Indies (present day Indonesia), but the group also includes individuals (both slaves and freed people) also from other parts of eastern and southern Asia, along with parts of Africa, like Madagascar. What united these people were their religion -- Islam -- and their decision to use Malay as a lingua franca. But, today, it is their religion that unites them, as many now speak Afrikaans and/or English.

These skewers are, in some ways, a reflection of multi-culturalism. Their ingredients, particularly the use of curry powders are echoes of an eastern or southern Asian past. The use of dried fruits, as well as the use of kebabs generally, provides hints of possible Persian influences. And, the cooking techniques, those could have originated with the European colonialists. 

Yet, sosaties are something that can bring together all South Africans. As one description set the scene: 

On Sundays in South Africa, you can smell these curried lamb skewers cooking over live fires throughout every neighborhood as families gather around the braai, an Afrikaans word that describes both the social event and the actual technique of grilling over a live fire.

That description comes from the Splendid Table, but the concept of people gathering together around a grill for, among other things, those kebabs can be found in many other accounts. It is yet another reminder of how food can unite different people within one country, and, perhaps, around the world. 

SOSATIES

Recipe from Cookies and Crumbs

Serves 4

Ingredients (for the marinade):

• 1 onion (some will be used for the marinade, some for the kebabs)
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1 tablespoon curry powder
• 1 teaspoon coriander
• 4-6 slices of 1/2 inch ginger
• 1/4 cup vinegar
• 1 cup apricot jam

Ingredients (for the kebabs);

• 2 pounds lamb (preferably leg or chops)
• 3/4 cup of dried apricots

Directions:

1. Prepare the onions. Cut the onion in half. With one half, cut strups vertically that will go onto the kebabs. You will need at least 20-25 vertical strips, perhaps more. Set aside and dice the remaining onion. 

2. Prepare the marinade. Warm the oil in a pan over medium-high heat. When it is warm, saute the diced onions until they are soft and transluscent. While the onions saute, cut the lamb into bite-sized pieces, as square as possible. Wehn the onions are soft, add all of the rest of the marinade ingredients except for the apricot jam. Mix together and cook for a few more mounites to release the flavors and let them meld together. Then add the jam and cover. 

3. Continue preparing the marinade. Heat the marinade until it starts bubbling, then turn down the heat. Let it simmer, covered, for a few more minutes to thicken. 

4. Prepare the lamb. When the marinade is ready, remove from heat and let cool. Add the lamb to a ziploc bag and then the cooled marinade. Mix to make sure that the marinade covers all of the meat. marinate for at least 4 hours, but ideally overnight in the refrigerator. 

5. Prepare the skewers. About an hour before grilling, remove the marinated lamb from the refrigerator. Add the onions and dried apricots. The apricots will need about an hour or two in the marinanadte to plump up. If they are not plump, add them to hot water for a few minutes. When you are ready to grill, assemble the kebabs by placing meat, dried apricots, and onion on the kebab sticks in whatever order you like. 

6. Grill the skewers. Place the skewers on a medium-high heat grill and turn frequently, about every minute or two. It will take only a few minutes on each side to cook through the bite-sized piees. You can check meat doneness by pressing on the piece of meat. If the liquid runs out pink, it is rare. If it is clear, it is medium. Do not overcoook the kebabs. 

PEACE.

Long Pepper Chicken

Historical recipes truly amaze me, especially the old ones. And, when I say, "old" I mean really old. This historical, culinary interest of mine can itself be dated back to a dish called Etruscan Chicken. That was the first time that I made a concerted effort to learn about the history of an ancient people, along with their cuisine and that dish. Since then, whenever I see a possible recipe that could serve as a springboard into some historical research, I jump at the opportunity. Sometimes, that effort may only involve going back a few hundred years. Other times, like the one that serves as the focus of this post, go back millennia.  

The subject is a recipe for Long Pepper Chicken. The recipe's history can be traced back to around 200 to 300 BCE. Historians found the recipe in the Arthashastra, which an ancient Sanskrit treatise written around that time. They believe that the reci[pe was written by Kautilya, who was an assistant to the first emperor, Chandragupta, of the Maurya Empire. Yet, the Arthashastra was not a cookbook; instead, the venerable tract primarily addressed economic policy, military strategy and the management of state affairs. Kautilya's work helped the emperor establish an empire that ruled over much of the Indian subcontinent at a time when the Ptolemies ruled over Egypt and there were still two republics -- the Roman Republic and the Carthaginian Republic -- in the central Mediterranean. 

While the Arthashastra dealt primarily with political, economic and military issues, Kautilya nevertheless included discussions about food. After all, no empire can survive, let alone thrive, unless all of its citizens are fed. To that end, Kautilya gave us a glimpse into what an average person ate during the third century B.C.E. A meal basically consisted of a kilogram of rice or grain, a quarter-litre of soup, 1/16 liter of ghee or oil and salt. That was a meal for an average male. Women received 3/4 of those amounts and children received only 1/2 of that amount. 

The Arthashastra also included discussions of how to cook meat. Typically, for one kilogram (or two pounds of meat), cooks would use fifty grams of salt, 50 grams of sugar, 10 grams of spices, whopping 1.25 kilograms of yogurt, and a small amount of ghee or oil. Of course, when one talks about spices, it was usually, among other things, ginger, cumin, mustard, coriander and long pepper. 

As for Long Pepper Chicken, Kautilya provided the recipe, but in terms of Mauryan measurements. One needed 20 balas of chicken meat and one kaduba of ghee or oil, along with curd, salt and spices, like ginger, mustard seeds and long peppers (apparently to be measured by one's own instinct or experience, like many modern chefs do today). 

And here is where we get another look into the history of food. The use of long pepper, which originated in the Indian subcontinent and southeastern Asia, goes back to the sixth or fifth century B.C.E.  We can trace this ingredient that far back because it is mentioned in the works of Hippocrates, although he referred to long pepper as a medicine, rather than a spice. Yet, cooks used long peppers because it provided a sweet and pungent flavor. It was the principal pepper used by cooks across Asia and Europe until it was ultimately displaced by the black peppercorn in the 14th century C.E. (which later faced its own competition from the chiles originating in the New World). 

So this recipe is not only one of the oldest known Indian recipes, but also a recipe that uses a venerable spice. Both the recipe and the long pepper seemed lost to history. Indeed, the Arthashastra was lost for a period of time, only to be rediscovered by researchers in 1905. The long pepper was also lost, pushed into obscurity by the black peppercorn and chiles (at least for me), until 2025, when I came across a bag of dried long peppers in a local Indian supermarket. Just as there are long peppers left in that bag, there are more stories to tell about the spice. Those will have to wait for future posts.... 

LONG PEPPER CHICKEN

Recipe from Indiaphile

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken thighs
• 1/4 cup ghee
• 3/4 cup yogurt
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 12 long peppers, split (roughly grind 5 peppers in a mortar and paste, leave 7 whole)
• 1/2 teaspoon mustard seeds
• 1 teaspoon ginger paste (grated with micro-plane)
• 1 teaspoon lemon juice

Directions:

1. Marinate the chicken. Whisk the yogurt in a bowl to smooth it out. Add crushed long pepper, ginger and salt. Stir to combine. Add chicken and stir to coat. Cover and let marinate for at least 30 minutes to overnight.

2. Cook the chicken. Heat the oil in a large pan. Add mustard seeds and allow them to pop for a few seconds. Add whole peppers and let them cook for about 20 seconds. Add marinated chicken and let it brown, then turn the pieces and allow the other side to brown. It will take about 6 minutes on each side. 

3. Continue cooking the chicken. Add 1/4 cup of water to the marinade. Stir and pour over the chicken. Deglaze the pan by scraping it with a spatula. Cook the chicken in the sauce until it has reduced to half, about 6-8 minutes. Add water to adjust consistency. Finish with a squeeze of lemon. 

PEACE.

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Ireland

 "Laughter is brightest in the place where the food is."

-- Irish proverb

This proverb recognizes that food, especially good food, can create community, bringing together people in an environment of hospitality and inclusion, which leads to happiness and joy. While that recognition is a truism, the proverb originated in a country, Ireland, whose history is marked with roughly seven centuries of colonization, deprivation, and famine. That history hardly produces circumstances where food, let alone laughter, abounds.

Yet, the history of the Irish people and their cuisine goes back much further than British colonialism. Indeed, Irish cuisine spans some 8,000 years and that history has been well documented. As chef, restauranteur and writer J.P. McMahon once observed, "[f]ood has always lived in the background of Irish poetry and folklore, simmering quietly, never quite at its centre, yet essential to its scent and materiality." Indeed, one needs only look to Irish literature to get some insight into the ingredients, dishes and meals that have been served across the Emerald Isle over time. And, As Mairtin Mac Con Iomaire and Eamon Maher wrote in Tickling the Palate (2014), "Irish literature is replete with descriptions of food." 

Take, for example, The Hermit's Song or Marban to Guaire. It is a poem written in the 8th century C.E. The poem reads:

To what meals the woods invite me

All about! 

There are water, herbs and cresses,

Salmon, trout.

A clutch of eggs, sweet mast and honey

Are my meat,

Heathberries and whortleberries for a sweet.

Round me grows,

There are hips and haws and strawberries,

Nuts and sloes.

And when summer spreads its mantle

What a sight! 

Marjoram and leaks and pignuts,

Juicy, bright.

All of those wonderful ingredients and not one of them was a potato. (Potatoes are a relatively new ingredient, having been introduced in Ireland about 400 years ago.)

This wealth of ingredients and dishes fell out of reach for most Irish over time, and the literature describing Irish cuisine became more barren. Much of this occurred during the period of English and British colonization, which began in 1169 but brought the entire island under colonial rule during the 17th century. The colonialist policies, along with British landownership, forced much of the population into poverty.  And, by 1840, nearly 75% of the Irish were poor. Their cuisine became one that is often described as the food of the poor. The Irish survived by raising and eating what they had on hand, whether it was sheep or root vegetables -- like the potato -- that they could cultivate in their own gardens.  Indeed, the potato was vital to survival. As Dr. Mac Con Iomaire observed, the Irish found that they could grow "enough potatoes on one acre of poor or marginal land to feed a family of ten, with very little work." But, when the potato blight hit Ireland, the loss of this critical foodstuff led to the Great Famine and Great Hunger, with at least one million dying and another million leaving Ireland. 

As one would expect, Irish literature reflected the more difficult times. The ballad, "The Praties They Grow Small" is a work that starkly evokes the hunger of the Irish people: 

Oh, the praties they grow small,

Over here, over here

Oh, the praties they grow small

And we dig them in the fall.

And we eat them skins and all, 

Over here, over here.

Oh, I wish that we were geese,

Night and morn, night and morn,

Oh, I wish that we were geese,

For they fly and take their ease

And they live and die in peace,

Eating corn, eating corn.

The long periods of deprivation took their toll in so many ways. And, as writer J.P. McMahon explored in their work, that deprivation continued to present itself in Irish art and literature, long after the end of colonialization.

Since its independence, Ireland -- along with its people and their cuisine -- have indeed recovered what they have lost with a return to the wealth of ingredients from both the land and the sea. For one thing, the Irish are known for their cheeses, whether it is the Dunbarra, a brie style cheese from County Cork; the Durrus, a washed rind cheese from West Cork; or the Drumlin, a raw cow's milk cheese from County Cavan. (Not all Irish cheese begin with the letter "D" but I chose these three to show the range of cheeses from north to south of the isle). Then there is also the seafood, whether it is mussels in cream, served along the shores of the Galway Bay, or the Dublin Bay prawns. And, of course, the there are beef, lamb and mutton dishes, such as Irish Stew, corned beef, and spiced beef.  

MAIN COURSE

Irish stew has always been prepared with what farmers and their families had on hand. Prior to the late 16th century, the stew consisted basically of mutton (or goat), onions and water. After the potato was introduced to Ireland in the late 1500s, farmers and cooks began adding slices of the tuber to help thicken the stew. 

One of the earliest written recipes for Irish Stew, which reflects the combination of mutton, onions, potatoes and water, comes from the O'Brien family, who lived in southern Ireland during the 1600s. The Countess of Thomond wrote down the recipe: 

To make an Irish stew of mutton Season the bones of a neck of mutton with pepper and salt, put it down with a layer of onions, put them in a covered stewpan, to keep in the steam & as much water as will cover it. The chops must be very tender, but as they are all put down together, the potatoes must be taken out first, as they burst. 

Over time, as more ingredients became available, cooks would add them to the stew, such as substituting lamb for mutton. And, that is what I am doing here, as the preparation of Irish Stew will satisfy this personal culinary challenge for my Around the World in 80 Dishes. 

STOBHACH GAELACH (IRISH STEW)

Recipe from New York Times

Serves 6 to 8

Ingredients:

• 3 pounds lamb shoulder, cut into 2 inch chunks
• Salt
• Pepper
• 4 tablespoons vegetable oil
• 2 pounds onions (about 6 medium), cut into wedges
• 1 pound of carrots (about 6 medium), cut into 3-inch lengths
• 4 cups chicken, veal or beef broth
• 1 large sprig thyme
• 3 pounds russet potatoes (about 12 small), peeled and halved in 2-inch thick slices

Directions:

1. Brown the lamb. Pat lamb dry and season well with salt and pepper. Put oil in a heavy-bottomed soup pot over medium high heat. Brown meat on all sides, working in batches. 

2. Cook vegetables. Set meat aside and add onions and carrots to the pot. Season with salt and pepper. Cook vegetables, stirring, until lightly browed, about 3 minutes. Heat oven to 350 degrees. 

3. Continue the stew. Return meat to pot, add broth and bring to a simmer. Put in thyme sprig and arrange potatoes on top (it's fine if potatoes are not completely submerged. Season potatoes, cover pot and transfer to oven). 

4. Continue the stew. Bake for about 1 hour, until lamb is quite tender when probed with a skewer or pairing knife. Remove fat from the top of broth. Ladle stew into shallow bowls and serve. 

SIDE DISH

Colcannon is a uniquely Irish dish that features mashed potatoes mixed with kale or cabbage. As Dr. Mairtin Mac Con Iomaire once described it, colcannon brings together the ancient and the modern of Irish cuisine. The ancient is represented in the cabbage or kale, which has been grown by the Irish on farms or in gardens for centuries. The modern is, as you may have guessed by now, the potato. The combination of the two ingredients creates a filling dish that could sustain a working person, whether in the fields or in factories, for a long time. 

And, as you also may have guessed, colcannon has its place in Irish art and literature. The first reference to the dish comes from a diary entry written in 1735 by William Bulkely. Mr. Bulkely was traveling from Wales and found himself in Dublin on Halloween night. As he recalled, "Dined at Cos. Wm. Parry, and also supped there upon a shoulder of mutton roasted and what they call there Coel Callen, which is cabbage boiled, potatoes, and parsnips, all this mixed together. They eat well enough, and is a Dish always ahd in this Kingdom on this night." 

There is also a children's song, "The Auld Skillet Pot," that provides a rather vivid description of the dish. The lyrics include: 

Well, did you ever make colcannon made with lovely picked cream

With the greens and scallions mingled like a picture in a dream

Did you ever make a hole on top to hold the 'melting' flake

Of the creamy flavored butter that our mothers used to make

Oh you did, so you did, so did he and so did I

And the more I think about it, sure the nearer I'm to cry

Oh weren't them the happy days when troubles we knew not

And our mother made colcannon in the little skillet pot.

Guided, and perhaps inspired, by this history and art, I decided to make colcannon. (I have to admit that I needed that inspiration because neither cabbage nor kale rank very high on the list of my favorite ingredients to cook with or eat.) And, while I will not be composing songs or writing poems about this dish, I have to admit that it was very good ... and filling.  

COLCANNON

Recipe from The Spruce Eats

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 3 large (about 2 pounds) Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and quartered
• 2 teaspoons fine salt, more to taste
• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature, divided
• 3 cups coarsely chopped kale or other seasonal greens (leaves only, tough ribs discarded)
• 4 medium green onions, thinly sliced, white and green parts divided
• 1 dried or fresh bay leaf
• 1 1/4 cups milk
• 1 teaspoon dry mustard powder
• Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Directions:

1. Boil the potatoes. Put the potatoes into a large (4-quart) saucepan. Add 2 teaspoons fine salt and enough cold water to cover the potatoes by 2 inches. Bring to a boil over high heat. Cook until the largest potatoes are tender (they will yield easily when pierced with a fork and break apart), about 12 minutes. Drain in a colander set in a sink while you prepare the greens. Set the saucepan aside; you will use it again. 

2. Prepare the greens. Melt 2 tablespoons of unsalted butter in a medium skillet over medium, heat. Add the kale (or other seasonal greens), white parts of the scallions, and the bay leaf and cook, stirring occasionally until the kale is tender, about 5 minutes. 

3. Add the milk. Add the milk and dry mustard. Once the milk simmers, reduce the heat to low and keep warm. 

4. Finish the dish. Return the drained potatoes to the reserved saucepan. Add the remaining 4 tablespoons of unsalted butter and the green parts of the scallions. Mash with a potato masher until nearly smooth. Add the kale-milk mixture to the saucepan, discarding the bay leaf. Stir to combine. The mixture may initially appear too liquidy, but it will thicken as the potato starch absorbs the mosture. Season with salt and freshly ground pepper to taste and serve. 

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This challenge was a success, especially given that I ate the Colcannon despite my aversion to kale. The Irish stew was also delicious and, although I was a little worried about the size of the lamb chunks and other chunks, they cooked nicely. (Tip: maybe cook stuff a little longer, maybe 15 minutes more.) There is so much more that I could write about, both with respect to Irish cuisine and its reflection in art and literature. There is also so much more I need to make, whether it is Mussels and Cream from the south of the Island or Greencastle Chowder from the north of the Island. There will definitely be additional posts about Ireland and its cuisine. Until then ...

PEACE.