Poulet Basquaise

"The extent to which you can walk in someone else's shoes or at least eat their food, it's a plus for everyone." 

-- Anthony Bourdain

Although I have always been fascinated by other countries and other cultures, in many respects, Anthony Bourdain has been the one to introduce me to someone else's food. Whether it was No Reservations or Parts Unknown, I would watch intently as Bourdain traveled around the world and communed with people at a table eating food. It is one of the most basic ways to achieve a mutual understanding. 

One of the many places that Anthony visited was Basque country, a region that straddles both Spain and France. It was a place that returned to again and again. The reason, as he described it, was "my love for the Basque, for Basque culture, for my Basque friends, is absolute." If a region, its people and its culture can strike a feeling like that in Anthony Bourdain, then an exploration is a must. 

I have previously prepared dishes from Basque country, but mostly focusing on that part that lies within Spain. I wanted to cross the border into France, to learn more about the Basque who live in that country. Anthony Bourdain's recipe for Poulet Basquaise provided that opportunity. 

The dish, Poulet Basquaise, is said to have originated from the Soule province of southwestern France, which is deep in the Basque country. The original recipe called for creating a sauce from bread and vegetables; however, it evolved over time to require the use of a piperade, which is base of tomato, onion and bell pepper. The dish also features the espellete, a pepper grown in the region (but which can be hard to find elsewhere). While the use of espellete is a must in Basque cooking, adequate substitutes include paprika or, if you would like a little more heat, Aleppo pepper. The Basque are also known for their wines, which can sometimes be hard to find as well. If you cannot find a Basque white wine, an adequate substitute is Picpoul de Pinet, a wine that comes from the neighboring French region of Languedoc. (I used that wine because it is more available and, as an added bonus, reasonably priced.)

When one prepares a dish like this, it transports them to a kitchen of a house in a small village in Soule. A dish that brings together local produce, a chicken from a nearby farm or market, some wine in the house, and herbs from the garden to produce a dish that would be the centerpiece of the family dinner. Basque cuisine features heavily local ingredients, influenced by French cuisine more than Spanish cuisine. It evolved over time, as evidenced by the tomatoes and peppers in the piperade. But, just as French cuisine has influenced Basque cuisine, the reverse is also true, as this particular dish is not just popular in Basque country, but in other areas of France as well. 

The exploration will continue, both in Basque country and elsewhere. Stay tuned....

POULET BASQUAISE

Recipe from Food & Wine

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 whole chicken, cut into 8 pieces
• Salt
• Pepper
• Pinch of cayenne pepper or piment d'Espelette
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 tablespoon butter
• 2 red bell peppers, thinly sliced
• 2 green bell peppers, thinly slice
• 1 onion, thinly sliced
• 1 can (16 ounces) Italian plum tomatoes
• 1/2 cup white wine
• 1 cup water
• 1/2 cub chicken bouillon or 1/2 cup light chicken broth or stock
• 3 sprigs of flat parsley, finely chopped
• Rice pilaf, for serving

Directions:

1. Prepare the chicken. Season the chicken all over with salt, pepper and the cayenne pepper. Heat the oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium high heat, about 2 minutes. When the oil is hot, add the butter. When the butter has melted and the foam has subsided, add the chickens, skin side down and brown on that side only, about 5 minutes. Remove the chicken and set aside on the plate. 

2. Saute the vegetables. Add the peppers and onion to the pot and reduce the heat to medium low. Cook for about 10 minutes, then add the tomatoes and cook until the liquid is reduced by half. Stir in the wine, scraping to get up the good stuff. Cook until the wine is reduced by half, then add the water and bouillon cube or broth. Return the chicken to the pot, making sure to add all the juices on the plate. Cover the pot and simmer on low heat for about 25 minutes. 

3. Finish the dish. Transfer the chicken to a platter. Crank up the heat to high and boil the sauce until it has thickened and reduced, about 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper and add the parsley. Pour the sauce over the chicken and serve with rice pilaf. 

PEACE.

Chile Verde Guacamole

If one looks at a guacamole recipe, they will most likely see an ingredient list that includes avocados, as well as perhaps tomatoes, onions, and cilantro. Almost all of those recipes have lime juice as an ingredient. But, as it turns out and I soon learned, that not all guacamole is prepared with lime juice. 

That happens to be the case in the Mexican State of Sonora. Chefs and cooks prepare their guacamole with out the added juice. Instead, they use other ingredients to provide additional layers of flavor, such as roasted anaheim chiles, to to enhance the "heat" of the dish, such as serrano chiles. 

A preparation of guacamole without lime juice may seem out of the ordinary (at least it did to me). However, I like to think that the Sonorans may be holding onto something that reflects a more traditional method. Something that goes back centuries. 

Allow me to explain.  The domestication of avocados in Mexico can be dated back at least 5,000 B.C.E. The dish that we know as "guacamole" is not as old, with its history going back to 14th to 16th centuries. At this time, the Aztec empire controlled much of central Mexico. History has accounts of Aztecs preparing a spread consisting of mashed avocados, along with added tomatoes, onions and chiles. That spread pretty much sums up guacamole. The name of that spread, ahuacatl  (avocado) and molli (sauce), gives us the term "guacamole." The Aztecs did not use lime juice, even though they did use that ingredient in other dishes. So, in a sense, the Sonoran way of preparing guacamole tracks the traditional and historical method of the Aztecs, at least with regard to the absence of lime juice. 

One final note: this particular Sonoran guacamole recipe adds two types of chiles - a roasted Anaheim chile and a serrano chile. The latter chile obviously provides heat to the dish and, if a serrano is too much heat for you, then you can substitute a jalapeno pepper. But, don't use a green pepper, you need to have some kick in the guacamole. The former chile chile provides some smoky and even sweet elements.  If you cannot find Anaheim chiles, you can substitute a poblano pepper. 

CHILE VERDE GUACAMOLE

Recipe from NYT Cooking

Yields 3 cups

Ingredients:

• 1 fresh Anaheim chile
• 1 serrano chile, finely chopped
• 3 tablespoons finely chopped white onion
• 2 tavblespoons coarsely chopped cilantro leaves and tender stems
• 1 teaspoon kosher or sea salt, plus more to taste
• 3 ripe avacados, haved and pitted, diced and mashed

Directions: 

1. Prepare the Anaheim chile. Place the Anaheim chile on a small baking sheet covred with aluminum foil. Roast it under the broiler, flipping a couple of times, until the chile is wilted and its skin is completely charred and wrinkly. (Alternatively, you can char the chile direclty on a hot comal or a cast-rion pan set over medium heat, or a grill set to high.)

2. Continue to prepare the Anaheim chile. Place the charred Anaheim chile in a plastic bag and close it well. Let it steam and sweat for 5 to 10 minutes. 

3. Prepare the rest of the ingredients. As the Anaheim chile steams, add the serrano chile, onion, cilantro and salt in a bowl or molcajete, and mash until combined. add the avacado and continue to mix and mash until you have formed a chunky puree.

4. Finish the dish. Once the Anaheim chile is cool to handle, remove fromthe bag, slip off the charred skin adn make a slit down the side and remove the seeds and stem. You could rinse the chile under a thin stream of water to help remove the seeds or rinse it off by dipping it into a bowl of water. Finely chop the Anaheim chile. Add to the avocado mixture and stir to combine. Season to taste with salt. 

PEACE.

Edith Dyson's Crab Cakes

"The government killed my grandmother and grandfather when they took that land from them." 

-- Edith Dyson

Almost every recipe comes with a story. Sometimes that story involves the dish itself, or its ingredients. However, every once in a while the story may be part of a larger history lesson. That history will often fade, like the printing on a page, unless there are people who are able and willing to tell it. Recently, I came across the work of someone - Kara Mae Harris - who strives to tell not just the history of recipes in Maryland, but about the people who make them. I came across her blog, Old Line Plate, during a search for historic Maryland crab cake recipes. That is when I was introduced to crabcake recipe of Edith Dyson, which was originally printed in 300 Years of Black Cooking in St. Mary's County Maryland. The recipe was also reproduced by Harris on her blog, with the story, and history, of Edith Dyson and her family.  

John and Louise Dyson
(Source: Library of Congress)

The story actually begins with John Dyson, who was born into slavery in approximately 1860. (Maryland abolished slavery in 1864.) That fact comes from notes that accompany photos of Mr. Dyson taken in 1940. The notes read, "he was born into slavery over 80 years ago." By the time the photos were taken, Dyson was at least 80 years old and married to his wife, Louise Dyson. According to census records, the Dysons also had at least two children, although the records have inconsistencies. 

The photos were taken by John Vachon, a photographer who  worked for the Farm Security Administration ("FSA") from 1940 until 1942. The FSA was an agency born from the New Deal in 1937 (as a successor to the Resettlement Agency). The FSA had a mission to help poor farmers, sharecroppers, tenant farmers and migrant workers by providing loans for land, equipment and livestock. The FSA also provided training and health insurance.

From the documentary evidence, John Dyson had a home and property; and, he also participated in the FSA's loan program. It is unclear what loan he received and how he used it. However, this is where John Vachon and the FSA may shed some more light. The timeless legacy of the FSA is not its loans, but the photography project that Vachon was a part of. The FSA employed Vachon and others for their photography skills, seeking to document the lives of poor rural farmers and sharecroppers. 

Vachon took numerous other pictures of John and Louise Dyson. Many of those pictures appear to involve John Dyson surrounded by pear trees, picking their fruit. For example:

John Dyson picking pears (Source: Library of Congress)

By his 80s, Mr. Dyson was living with his wife in a house in what was known as Fordtown. Perhaps by that time, he may have been a farmer cultivating pears from trees around his house. 

Edith Dyson in the kitchen
(Source: Library of Congress)

However, according to his granddaughter, Edith Dyson, Mr. Dyson originally made his living from the water, not the land. As she recounted, "my grandfather worked the water. There were hotels and families that bought fish from him. These fish were caught on a hook and line; they they were not caught on rod and reels." Having worked the water in St. Mary's County, John Dyson would have been familiar with more than fish. He would have also known about blue crabs. And, while there is much less known about Louise Dyson, John Vachon does provide some visual history in the form of a picture of Louise in the kitchen of her home. 

I would like to think that, at some point, that either Mr. Dyson or Mrs. Dyson prepared crabs in some fashion in the kitchen. It would provide a narrative that could explain why  their grand-child, Edith Dyson, offered up a crab cake recipe nearly thirty years later for a cookbook about African American cooking in St. Mary's County.  This part of the story will most likely be left to conjecture. While Edith gave an oral history about her grandfather and his farm, which is noted in Kara Mae's research, I have been unable to located that audio.

But, I was able to determine what happened to Mr. Dyson's farm. The community of Fordtown, along with Pearson and Jonestown, were seized by the Federal government through eminent domain in 1942. As one homeowner, Webster Bell recounted, "It was in March, a cold, windy day. My wife heard this banging outside and she went to the door and looked out and here was this man, driving a great big 20-penny nail through this stack of papers that looked like a Sears Roebuck catalog." That stack of papers was an eviction notice. The residents -- including the Dysons -- who lived in these small African-American towns, in an area that was then called Cedar Point, were forcibly evicted from their homes. They received money for their land, but, for many (and most likely for Mr. Dyson), it was not a lot. They lost their land and their communities. What was Cedar Point would become known as Naval Air Station Patuxent River. And that all happened roughly two years after the pictures above were taken.

Not every story has a happy ending. Many stories about our country lack that happily-ever-after. We should never delude ourselves into thinking that our past was great. It alway makes me think about the Woody Guthrie quote, "I don't care how good the good old days were for you. They were not good enough for me." Or for those African Americans who lived in Fordtown, Jonestown or Pearson. This crab cake recipe offers a history lesson about entire communities that no longer exist. 

EDITH DYSON'S CRAB CAKES

Recipe (and much of the research) from Kara Mae Harris at Old Line Plate

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• Onion, finely chopped
• Green pepper, finely chopped
• Peanut oil
• Prepared mustard
• 1 egg
• 1/2 cup mayonnaise or an additional egg
• Cracker meal
• 1 pound of crab meat
• Breadcrumbs
• Worcestershire sauce
• Salt
• Cayenne Pepper
• Black pepper
• Seafood seasoning

Directions:

Use the above ingredietns according to your tastes and needs. Saute the oinion, green pepper, red pepper (cayenne), salt and seafood seasoning in oil. Do not brown. Beat the eggs and/or maynnaise. Add the sauteed ingredients, worchestershire, salt, pepper and mustard. Gently fold in breadcrumbs and crab meat to mix. Make into cakes or patties. Roll in cracker meal and fry in vegetable or peanut oil until browned.

*     *     *

A post-script to this post, provided by the research of Kara Mae Harris. Edith Dyson recounted a visit with her grandparents after they were forced to relocate to New Jersey. As she recounted, "my grandfather was sitting on the porch and I will never forget it: he was playing his accordion, he was playing 'Look Down that Lonesome Road.' and that is a very sad song. I said, 'Grandfather, don't play that song, don't play that song. You know, play something, say something, let's dance it off. But there was no pleasure in him, everything was gone. There was nothing you could bring up to him that wouldn't bring back St. Mary's County. And we never, we never wanted to remind him of St. Mary's County." 

John Dyson playing his accordion for Louise Dyson (Source: Library of Congress)

PEACE.

Goat Sukha

Whenever I order food from a particular Indian restaurant, I always include an appetizer of goat sukka (or sukha). As an aside, this particular restaurant allows its customers to choose between an American level of spice and an Indian level of spice for their dishes. I like a restaurant that not only caters to the local Indian community in this way, but also offers those options to someone like myself, who is not Indian. Given my love for very spicy foods, I always order my dishes from this restaurant at the Indian spicy or Indian very spicy level. 

Being able to choose spice levels in accordance with the Indian palate is important to me, because I want to experience the foods of southern India as one would prepare them for people who live in that region. Chefs and cooks alike across southern Indian states like Karnataka, Kerala and Tamil Nadu have embraced chiles. In so doing, they create dishes that contrast with those from the north of India. 

A sukka (or sukha) is a dry curry dish that originates from the south of India. The word sukha is Hindi and means "dry." Unlike a typical curry, sukhas are not prepared with a yogurt, tomato, or coconut milk base. Instead, recipes typically call for a combination of chiles and spices that, when prepared, cling to the featuerd protein with a paste-like texture. And, as for that protein, it could be just about anything. The most common versions of sukhas feature mutton or lamb, but one can find many recipes for Mangalore Chicken Sukha or even Chana Sukha (for vegetarians).  

For this recipe, I attempted to recreate the goat sukka dish from one of my favorite restaurants. I had some extra goat meat from another recipe that I prepared (which will also be posted on this blog). I encountered some difficulty finding a goat sukha recipe, which I needed to ensure that I prepared the goat properly. I eventually decided to use a mutton sukha recipe, for which there are many, and incorporated the directions for preparing goat from that other recipe I mentioned above. 

In the end, this dish was good, but it was not the goat sukka that I would order from the restaurant. There are two reasons for this conclusion. First, I am not as good at cooking goat as the Indian cook or chef at that restaurant. (Despite my best efforts, the goat was a little overcooked.) Second, the recipe would probably translate to an Indian mild or Indian medium on spice level. As noted above, my minimum threshold is Indian hot. 

GOAT SUKHA

Recipe adapted from Relish the Bite

Serves 2-3

Ingredients:

• 1 pound goat, cubed, bone-in
• 1/2 teaspoon turmeric
• Salt, to taste
• Garlic, 5 cloves minced
• 5 dried chiles (e.g., Kashmiri)
• 1/2 teaspoon fennel seeds
• 1/4 cup onions, sliced thinly
• Few curry leaves
• 4 green chiles (e.g., jalapeno)
• 1 teaspoon chile powder
• 1 teaspoon coriander powder
• 1 teaspoon cumin powder
• Salt, to taste
• 2 teaspoons oil
• Lime juice and coriander (cilantro), chopped, for garnish

Directions:

1. Prepare the goat. Place the goat, turmeric and salt in a sauce pan and cover with water. Bring to a boil and boil until cooked, about 15 to 20 minutes. Remove the goat from the water, strain the water through a fine mesh and reserve. 

2. Prepare the base. While the goat is cooking, combine the garlic, dried chiles and fennel seeds in a mortar and pestle. Grind the ingredients, with a dash of salt, until they become a paste.

3. Prepare the curry. In a pan, heat the oil over medium high heat. Add the onions, green chiles and curry leaves. Saute until the onions become translucent and the chiles become softer. Add the paste, along with the red chile powder, coriander powder and cumin powder. Saute well. 

4. Finish the dish. Add the goat and stir. Add some of the reserved water and let it cook until the water evaporates. Drizzle some lime juice and garnish with the chopped coriander (cilantro). Serve with rice and naan. 

PEACE.

Crab and Crawfish Etouffee

"We have a common language with food."

-- Chef Leah Chase

Chef Leah Chase was a culinary icon in New Orleans, known as the "Queen of Creole Cuisine." Her restaurant, Dooky Chase, was a center of Creole cuisine and culture, earning her many awards and honors. But, Chef Chase's contributions go far beyond food. 

The restaurant, Dooky Chase, had an important role in the civil rights movement. It was one of the very few places in New Orleans where African Americans could meet and discuss the struggles of the time. Local civil rights leaders would meet in the upstairs meeting rooms of the restaurant, while Chef Chase would serve gumbo and fried chicken. Some of those meetings involved Martin Luther King, Jr. and the Freedom Riders. As they began to organize the bus boycott in Montgomery, Alabama, King and others would meet with local civil rights leaders at Dooky Chase to learn about the similar boycott in Baton Rouge.

The struggle for equal rights is an important part of our history as a country. That history is under attack. Such an attack is not simply an attack upon African Americans, but it is an attack upon all of us. It is an effort to deny a painful part of our past, out of a mistaken notion that our admitting to our shortcomings somehow makes us weak. To the contrary, acknowledging our shortcomings actually makes us stronger, because it is the first step toward fixing our past mistakes and building a better future. 

All of this requires us to know our true history, which inevitably and unquestionably demands that we acknowledge the contribution of everyone to our combined existence. This acknowledgment in particularly embodied in Creole cuisine. When one thinks of Creole food, perhaps the first thing that comes to mind is its relationship to French cuisine, most likely because of the Acadians who migrated from Canada to the Mississippi delta. But, the true history of Creole cuisine is so much more. It is a true melting pot, incorporating African American and Native American ingredients, processes and traditions. Creole food is truly a common language that unites multiple groups of peoples, each unique in their own history, but each of whom share a common bond. 

I wanted to acknowledge that common bond when I prepared this recipe of Crab and Crawfish Etouffee. I used my No Man's Land seasoning. The mix uses a Creole seasoning base but adds sundried tomato powder and crawfish powder, both of which are ingredients drawn from the culinary history of enslaved Africans. The combination of those powders added an earthiness and almost an umami to the dish, whcih easily made up for the lack of pork or sausage. In the end, this dish was perhaps one of the best dishes that I have prepared in recent months. 

CRAB AND CRAWFISH ETOUFFEE

Recipe adapted from Food & Wine

Serves 6-8

Ingredients:

• 2 pounds crawfish. tails and meat removed
• 4 1/2 cups of water
• 1/2 cup unsalted butter
• 1/2 cup all purpose flower
• 1 medium sized yellow onion, finely chopped
• 2 large celery stalks, finely chopped
• 2 large green bell peppers finely chopped
• 10 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
• 1 tablespoon Creole seasoning (or No Man's Land Seasoning)
• 1 dried bay leaf
• 4 thyme sprigs
• 1 pound fresh crabmeat, picked over
• Kosher salt
• Long grain rice, for serving

Directions:

1. Prepare the crawfish. Rinse well. Remove the tails and remove the meat from the tails, reserving the shells from the tails. Bring 4 1/2 cups water and reserved shells to a simmer in a large saucepan over medium heat. Remove from heat; let stand for 15 minutes. Strain stock and discard shells. Set aside 4 cups crawfish stock.

2. Prepare the base. Melt butter in a large heavy saucepan over medium heat. Whisk in flour. Cook, whisking constantly until light blond in color, about 3 minutes. Add onion, celery, bell pepper and garlic. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are tender, about 8 minutes. Add the creole seasoning, bay leaf and thyme and cook, stirring constantly 1 minute. Add stock, cook, stirring occasionally until slightly thickened, about 30 minutes. 

3. Add crawfish and crab meat. Add the crawfish and crab meat. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, about 3 minutes. Discard the bay leaf and thyme sprigs. Season with Kosher salt to taste. Serve over rice.

PEACE.

Pintxos de Txampis

Basque cuisine gave us the "pintxos." Small plates adorned with tasty foods often served skewered with a toothpick, and served with bread, that could be found in most any tavern across northeastern Spain (also known as Basque country).

The history of these little dishes goes back more than 100 years, recounted well by Martin Buckley in a book called Basque Country and by a profile of the author and the book in the Independent. It was a time when food was scarce but comraderie was in abundant supply. Back in the 1920s, the social custom at the time was to drink outside of the house.  People would go from bar to bar,  socializing with their family and friends. By the 1940s, this practice of going from tavern to tavern with a group of friends, known as a kuadrilla, became well established. The kuadrilla is a closely-knit group formed of friends from early childhood. Its bonds are tightly formed over time, and often closed to outsiders, allowing those within the group to truly be themselves. 

Yet, as those kuadrillas moved from bar to bar, they did so during difficult times. With the Spanish Civil War, scarcity set in. While there was plenty to drink, food was scarce. As the kuadrillak drank glass after glass of wine (some of which was smuggled in from France), the tavern owners would place small plates of food on the bar. Those small plates are the origin of pintxos (which is Basque for "to pierce"), althought the name did not catch on until a couple of decades later. 

This particular pintxos is simple to make, although a little more difficult to plate. The combination of onions, shallots and garlic go well together (obviously), but they make a rather unstable base for the soft mushrooms. Fortunately, the toothpicks keep everything in place at least until they are eaten. As someone who enjoys Spanish tapas, as well as Basque pintxos generally, I think this is a start on a path to furhter exploration of these small plates.

PINTXOS DE TXAMPIS

Recipe from Sweet C

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 onion diced
• 1 shallot diced
• 2 garlic cloves, diced
• 1 cup dry white wine
• Flour
• 24 mushrooms, button or cremini, whole cap
• 1 baguette sliced into 12 slices

Directions: 

1.  Prepare the ingredients. Clean mushrooms by wipiong with a dry cloth or paper towel, discard stems. Dice onions, shallots, garlic. You can finely dice or rough chop.

2. Saute the onions, shallots and garlic. Add olive oil to a pan and heat on medium-high heat. Add onions and and shallots. Add onions and shallots to pan. Saute to soften, about 6 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking and over browning. When onions and shallots are soft, add garlic and cook until fragrant, about 1 minute. 

3. Cook the mushrooms. Sprinkle flour over ingredents, stir to combine well. Place mushroom caps in pan, add wine, stir to combine well and place lid on pan. Reduce heat to simmer and reduce the sauce until thick and the mushrooms cook and reduce in size, about 10 minutes. Stir to prevent sticking or burning and rotate mushrooms a few time while cooking. The sauce should thicken and the mushrooms soften, but they should not brown too much. 

4. Finish the dish. While the mushrooms cook down, slice baguette and drizzle with olive oil. Heat oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit. Bake for 8-10 minutes, until light lightly browned and crispy. When the mushrooms are softened and the sauce has thickened, use toothpick to skewer two mushroom caps onto the bread. Sppon sauce over the top. 

PEACE.

Persian Roast Lamb

Persian cuisine has a very long history and, within that history, there has has been a long tradition of roasting lamb. That tradition has been dated as far back as the Achaemenian dynasty, which rule from approximately 770 B.C.E. to 330 B.C.E. At its height, around 550 B.C.E. to 330 B.C.E., the Achaemenid Empire stretched from southeastern Europe and northeastern Africa all the way to the edges of the Indian subcontinent. This empire encompassed many different groups -- Greeks, Egyptians, Babylonians, Lydians, and others -- who were able to retain their identities and their cultures.

One of the many legacies of the Achaemenid rulers revolves around food. Rather than requiring conquered peoples to assimilate into the empire, the Achaemenid rulers incorporated aspects of their cultures into the empire, especially when it came to food. The empire adopted the Greek methods of producing olive oil, the Egyptian practices of cultivating grain, and the Mesopotamian baking recipes. 

It was during the Achaemenid dynasty that some of the earliest accounts of roasted lamb could be found. The Achaemenid kings were known for their grand feasts and elaborate dining traditions. Claudius Aelianus wrote in his Varia Historia that one would eat with a knife in the right hand and a piecce of bread in the left hand. The food was cut with the knife and then placed on the bread. As for the food itself, another writer -- the Macedonian writer Polyaenus -- wrote in the second century B.C.E. that the ingredients of a dinner featured "sweet grape jelly, candied turnips and radishes prepared with salt, candied capers with salt, from which delicious stuffings weremade, terebinth (from pistachio nuts) oil, Ethiopian cumin and Median saffron." Other fruits and nuts would have graced the tables as well, including dates, pomegranates, figs, apples, raisins and almonds. The main course of the royal feasts featured among other things, roasted lamb and saffron-infused rice. 

By contrast, the masses across the empire generally ate grilled meats, flatbreads and porridge. 

The traditions and cuisine of the Achaemenid empire constitute a noteworthy part of the history of Persian cuisine. The dishes of that time focused on a balance between sweet, sour and savory, which  was achieved through the use of spice mixes, fruit-based sauces and other methods. That balance continues to this day in Persian dishes. 

Drawing from this culinary history, I wanted to prepare a Persian-style roasted lamb. I found a recipe online that tracks the balance of sweet, sour and savory which defined the Achaemenid cuisine. That balance could be found in the marinade, whose ingredients include pomegranate molasses, honey, lemon juice, cumin, saffron, and turmeric. I opted for an overnight marinade given I was woking with a six pound boneless leg of lamb. I have to say that the lamb cooked faster than the times indicated in the recipe, which I think would probably be more accurate for a bone-in leg of lamb. 

In the end, I had my own little Persian feast when the lamb was finished. The table not only featured the sliced leg of lamb, but also jeweled rice and a Shirazi salad. Both of these dishes made excellent sides, adding a lot of colors and flavors to complement the meat. 

PERSIAN ROAST LAMB

Recipe from Lin's Food

Serves 8

Ingredients:

• 1 leg or shoulder of lamb, about 3.5 to 4.5 pounds
• 1 large onion, sliced in rings
• 1 cup chicken stock, vegetable stock or water
• 5 cloves of garlic, finely minced or crushed
• 4 tablespoons pomegranate molasses
• 2 tablespoons honey
• 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
• 1 lemon, juiced
• 1 tablespoon ground cumin
• 1 teaspoon turmeric
• 1 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 2 strops of fresh rosemary leaves, pounded or finely chopped
• 1 pinch saffron
• 2 tablespoons hot water 
• Pomegranate seeds, for garnish

Directions:

1. Prepare the saffron. Tip the saffron in a mortar with a small pinch of salt. Crush the saffron with the peste, goung round and round. Add the hot water and leave it to soak while you get everything else ready. 

2. Prepare the marinade. Combine the garlic, pomegranate molasses, honey, olive oil, lemon juice, liquid saffron, ground cumin cumin, turmeric, black pepper and rosemary. Mix well. Set aside.

3. Prepare the lamb. With a small knife, make a half dozen small slashes straight down into the lamb, especially around the thicker parts. Rub the marinade all over the lamb, pushing down into the cuts and into the meat folds. Cover the lamb and allow to marinate for at least 2 hours or overnight.

4. Roast the lamb.  Heat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Line the roasting pan or baking dish with the sliced onions. Sit the lamb on the onions. Pour the stock or water in, making sure to pour it on the onions and not the lamb. Cover with foil and roast for 1 hour by which time the lamb should be almost done. Take the cover off and roast for another 30 minutes, so that the meat will be pink. 

5. Finish the dish. When the lamb is done, there will be a little sauce or gravy that can be served separately. You can choose to get separate the excess fat, but that is not required. Slice the roast and serve on a platter with the onions.

PEACE.

Mr. Bayley's West Indies Salad

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

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

Source: Alabama.com

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WEST INDIES SALAD

Recipe from Food.com

Serves 4

Ingredients:

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

Directions:

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

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

PEACE.

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

No Man's Land Seasoning

Every student in the United States learns about the Louisiana Purchase, which was the moment in history where the United States "purchased" a large swath of already inhabited territory that ran from the bayous of the Mississippi delta up to the northern plains. Yet, this anglicized history (which completely ignores the indigenous peoples who lived on this land for centuries and downplays the others who came since, such as fugitive African-American slaves) omits what, in my humble opinion, is the most interesting aspect of that event. 

Down towards the Mississippi delta, there was an area of land between the newly acquired land and the territory that was under Spanish control. I happened to come across this part of history while searching for dishes to make as part of a Mardi Gras dinner for my beautiful Angel. The history involves what is known as the "No Man's Land" or the "Neutral Strip."  It is something that, from a kid growing up in a suburban city in the North, I had absolutely no idea about. As I researched this history, along with the people who lived in that area, I felt compelled to memorialize what I learned in more than one way. 

Sometimes described das a place filled with an outlaw culture or a region with a reputation for a tough and isolated place, the region is better understood as a bastion for those cultural groups who wished to find a home where they could preserve a way of life they cherished. 

-- Louisiana's Final Frontier

Source: Explore Louisiana

No Man's Land existed between 1806 and 1819, a product of negotiations between U.S. Army General James Wilkinson and Spanish Lieutenant Colonel Simon de Herrera. Spain would remain west of the Sabine River, while the United States would respect an arbitrary border that had been established by the Spanish with the French. This agreement left a sizeable strip of land where there was no governing authority.

The absence of authority did not mean that there were no people. No Man's Land was already the home of indigenous peoples, many of whom -- like the Yowani, Choctaw, Alabama, Biloxi and others -- moved there decades earlier to escape the British. They were later joined by squatters, runaway slaves, and army deserters, but also other settlers, whether those looking to establish a farm in the hills or living closer to the Sabine River where they could find work.  The people of the No Man's Land were diverse. They brought with them their own cultures, traditions, and foods.  whether indigenous, Cajun, Creole, African, Spanish, and French.

I wanted to prepare something that provided a nod to the diversity of this area but not necessarily be tied down by specific rules. My starting point was a standard Creole spice mix, which heralds from Louisiana. Typically, a Creole spice mix or seasoning consists of cayenne pepper, oregano, onion powder, garlic powder, salt and thyme. Some recipes add related or like ingredients, like paprika or white pepper. 

For this recipe, drawing inspiration from the No Man's Land and its people, I decided to make one substitution and one addition. First, I drew from the foodways of African slaves to substitute sundried tomato powder for the paprika. Second, I abandoned all the rules to introduce a very unique ingredient from the African foodways: dried crawfish powder. This powder an element of umami to the mix, which, along with the tomato powder, provided very earthy notes to the Creole seasoning. 

 

NO MAN'S LAND SEASONING

Recipe adapted from Southern Living

Prepares 1/4 cup

Ingredients:

• 1 tablespoon sundried tomato powder
• 1 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1 teaspoon onion powder
• 1 teaspoon dried oregano
• 1 teaspoon dried thyme
• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon crawfish powder (optional)

Directions:

Combine all of the ingredients in a small bowl and stir until well combined. 

PEACE.

Lowcountry Brown Oyster Stew

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

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

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

Dawadawa (Source: Slow Food)

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

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

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

LOWCOUNTRY BROWN OYSTER STEW

Recipe from Saveur

Serves 4

Ingredients:

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

Directions:

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

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

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

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

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

PEACE.

On Count Rostov's Plate: Latvian Stew

December 1922.  Count Alexander Rostov sat, by himself, in the middle of the restaurant referred to by the Count as the "Piazza."  Alexander was not alone, for there was a couple sitting at a nearby table. The male counterpart of this couple was talking about a conference to unify the Soviet republics. This encounter took place in December 1922. It would have been Christmas season, but, in that year, it was the birth of the Soviet Union. The female counterpart turned to a technical conversation about the "Transcaucasian question." (I am curious as to which one, as there were -- and still are -- many Transcaucasian questions.) Before the man could answer, a nearby accordion player began playing a number with a Spanish flair. The music was from The Nutcracker. (Emil Towles, The Gentleman of Moscow, pages 95-96.)

That provides the setting for what happened next, and, by extension the recipe that is the subject of this part of my On Count Rostov's Plate series. It is perhaps, from a culinary view, one of the most interesting aspects of the story. What happens next provides a window into life as a nascent Soviet Union came to terms with new economic, social and ideological principles. 

The waiter -- referred to as "the Bishop" by Count Rostov because of his appearance -- is standing over the couple ready to take their order. As Towles recounts: 

But for a hopeful young man trying to impress a serious young woman, the menu of the Piazza was as perilous as the Straights of Messina. On the left was a Scylla of lower-priced dishes that could suggest a penny-pinching lack of flair; and on the right was a Charybdis of delicacies that could empty one's pockets while painting one pretentious. the young man's gaze drifted back and forth between these opposing hazards. But in a stroke of genius, he ordered the Latvian stew. (Id. at 96.)

Latvian stew -- a dish of pork, onions and apricots -- that was both exotic and a call to "the world of grandmothers and holidays...." 

In writing his book, and, in particular this part of the story, author Amor Towles recounted his own encounter with the Scylla and Charybdis. While he chose to use the Latvian stew, Towles had his own questions about the dish. He had a recipe for the dish from Saveur, but the ingredients did not include any wine, spices or stock. But, that was the point, as Count Rostov recalls (because he also ordered the dish): "The onions thoroughly caramelized, the pork slowly braised, and the apricots briefly stewed, the three ingredients come together in a sweet and smoky medley that simultaneously suggest the comfort of a snowed-in tavern and the jangle of a tambourine." That is quite the review.

LATVIAN STEW

Recipe from Book Club Cookbook, written by Amor Towles

Serves 6-8

Ingredients:

• 3 pounds boneless pork shoulder, trimmed and cut in to 1-inch pieces
• Salt
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 6 tablespoons vegetable oil, divided
• 6 carrots, peeled trimmed and sliced cross-wise
• 4 tablespoons tomato paste
• 5 cups of water
• 1 cup dried apricots
• 1 pound white boiling onions, peeled, each cut into 6 wedges
• 1 cup pitted prunes

Directions:

1.  Begin the stew. Season the pork with salt and pepper. Heat 3 tablespoons of the oil in a large heavy bottomed pot over medium-high heat. Add the pork and cook, stirring occasionally, until the meat releases all of its juices and is no longer pink all over, about 5 minutes. Add the carrots and cook until slightly tender, about 10 minutes. Stir in the tomato paste and water, then add apricots. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to medium-low, and gently simmer, uncovered, for 45 minutes.

 2. Sauté the onions. Meanwhile, heat remaining oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add onions and cook, stirring often, until deep golden brown, about 15 minutes.

3. Finish the dish. Add the onions and prunes to the stew and continue to simmer over medium-low het until the pork is tender and the sauce has thickened, about 30 minutes more. Adjust seasonings. Serve with boiled potatoes, buttered and garnished with chopped parsley.

PEACE.

P.S.: If you are looking for a wine to pair with this dish, Count Rostov would strongly recommend a Mukuzani, a Georgia red wine produced from the Saperavi grape. In the Count's words, "the Georgians practically grow their grapes in the hopes that one day they will accompany such a stew." (Amor Towles, A Gentleman in Moscow, pg. 98.) The author, Amor Towles, hints that any good red table wine will suffice. 

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Seychelles

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MAIN COURSE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OCTOPUS CURRY

Recipe from Tourism Seychelles

Serves 4

Ingredients:

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

Directions:

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

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

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

SIDE DISH

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

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

SEYCHELLES CREOLE RICE

Recipe from Amy's Cooking Adventures

Serves 4

Ingredients:

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

Directions:

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

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

*          *          *

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

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

PEACE.