Gomasio

"Simplicity reveals the truth of taste."

Author unkown

 

There seems to be an eternal struggle within myself, particularly when it comes to cooking. I always feel the urge to prepare something big, even when (especially when) I am just cooking for myself. This blog recounts (in some, albeit incomplete detail) some of those cooking efforts. Those efforts send me on a search for hard-to-find ingredients, reading recipe after recipe for new processes and techniques. I spend a significant amount of time to prepare a dish that, in the end, usually does not look like the picture and does not always leave me satisfied in any or every sense of the term. 

In recent months, I have been trying to break free from that culinary and personal struggle. There are many reasons, beyond the obvious (namely, less stress). The most important of those reasons is my health. I want to prepare dishes and learn cooking techniques that can improve my overall health. And, as I have come to learn (and relearn again and again), the starting point begins with the principle of simplicity.

The concept of simplicity is a core precept of Japanese cuisine. A couple of ingredients, prepared together using basic processes, can be used to create a healthy dish. Rather than layer that dish with sauces or additional proteins, one can use other precepts, like balance, to add carefully ingredients that maintain the minimalist or simplistic approach. 

For me, gomasio represents a starting point for simplicity in cooking. Two ingredients - sesame seeds (goma) and salt (shio) -- are ground together to create a simple condiment. That condiment is packed with protein and calcium, which comes from the sesame seeds. It can then be used when one seeks balance in a dish, providing an earthy and salty flavor to a dish. It can be sprinkled over rice, added to soup dishes, or over sushi.

GOMASIO

Recipe from Elana's Pantry

Ingredients:

• 1 cup raw sesame seeds
• 1/2 tablespoon sea salt

Directions:

1. Roast the sesame seeds.  Place the seeds in a cast iron skillet over medium heat. Roast for 10 minutes, stirring constantly until the seeds turn golden brown. 

2. Grind the seeds and salt. Place the toasted sesame seeds and salt in a suribachi or mortar and pestle, grind to a coarse meal. Transfer to a glass container. 

PEACE.

Fish Pepper Sauce

"The story of the fish pepper really spoke to me. It was an homage to enslaved African foodways, and that influence in Chesapeake Bay cuisine...."

Denzel Mitchell, Jr.

In a world dominated by chiles like cayennes, jalapenos, serranos, and habaneros, there is one little known pepper. Its story is not tied to the Spanish and Portuguese caravels that cross from the new world to old, going east to west. Rather, the story revolves around people who traveled in the opposite direction, from east to west in brigs and schooners, namely, the nearly 12.5 million enslaved Africans who were taken from their homes to the new world.

The fish pepper was first cultivated somewhere in the Caribbean. The chiles made their way north, rather than east, to the Chesapeake Bay.

It is not entirely clear when fish peppers began to be cultivated in the Chesapeake region. One author, culinarian and historian, Michael Twitty, believes that, in the years after Haitian independence, Haitians brought the chiles to the Chesapeake region, where African-American slaves began to grow the peppers. There are also stories about how slaves would rub their feet with fish peppers to throw off the scent of the dogs as the slaves sought freedom. After the end of slavery, African-Americans throughout the Chesapeake Bay continued to grow fish peppers in their gardens. They also tended to use the peppers to flavor mostly seafood dishes. 

By the turn of the century, however, the fish pepper largely disappeared. The decline coincided with African Americans moving from the rural eastern shore to Baltimore and Washington, D.C., along with changing food styles.  Given the absence of written records from the African-American community during the times of slavery, as well as the dearth of records thereafter, the disappearance went largely unnoticed.

That was until the 1940s, when Horace Pippin made trades, offering seeds from the fish pepper to a local beekeeper in return for the use of his bees. (Pippin needed the bees for their stings, which was a well accepted remedy for arthritis at the time.) The beekeeper, H. Ralph Weaver, kept the seeds. Two generation's later, Weaver's grandson -- William Woys Weaver -- came across the jars of seeds. He shared the seeds with the Seed Savers Exchange; and, today, just about any fish pepper seeds one can find are the descendants of the Weaver's seeds.

Fish peppers set themselves apart from other chiles because of their multitude of colors. One can surely find red and orange peppers, but about 1 in every 50 will lack chlorophyll and be pale in color. As the picture above illustrates, I got quite a few red ones, which are more piquant than than the orange and green ones. 

I wanted to pay homage to the ingredient and the African-American foodways where it played an important role. I did quite a bit of research before I found myself back before Michael Twitty. I have read his books and am quite the fan of his important work. You can read about some of that work when I explored his recipes for Kitchen Pepper and for West African Style Broiled Lobster Tails.  Twitty has developed a recipe for Fish Pepper Sauce, which is a sauce that I could easily see being used to flavor seafood stews, or as a way to add flavor to other main courses. The recipe reminds me somewhat of eastern Carolina barbecue sauce, which is heavy on the vinegar and laced with hot peppers. (The eastern Carolina sauce also draws its roots from the cooking techniques of enslaved Africans.) 

The recipe is easy to make. The hardest part was waiting the two to three weeks before I could use it. Then again, that gave me some time to come up with recipes. There will definitely be more to come with respect to this sauce. 

FISH PEPPER SAUCE

Recipe from Michael Twitty, My Cooking Gene, pg. 24

Ingredients:

• 15 to 20 fish peppers
• Kosher salt
• 4 cups apple cider vinegar or rum

Directions:

1. Prep the fish peppers. Take fish peppers, and cut off the tops and tips of the pods. A few peppers, about 5, should be chopped to a pulp in a food processor. Add a pinch or two of salt. 

2.  Prep the sauce.  Take this pulp and place it at the bottom of a jar. The rest of the peppers can be sliced down the middle, exposing the seeds or left whole. Place them on top of the pulpy mixture and cover in the bottle with apple cider vinegar or rum. Shake well and let steep 2 to 3 weeks before using. 

PEACE.

Merken Especial

The Mapuche have a very interesting history, and, until very recently, it was one about which I knew very little. While I have been going out of my way to learn more about indigenous cultures, both generally and through this blog, I have to admit that my focus has largely been trained on North America, only occasionally diverting itself into Central America or the Caribbean. I had never really spent any time focused upon the indigenous people of South America. And, now I realize, that has left me with an incomplete picture of history before colonization and exploitation. 

The Mapuche have lived in a region in the central part of present day central Chile, as well as part of western Argentina, for centuries. They are a proud people, who resisted colonization by the Spanish, even to the point of having their own independent society until well into the nineteenth century. That ended when the Chilean army, as well as the Argentinian army, invaded and occupied the Mapuche lands. While improvements seemed to be on the horizon during the Salvador Allende administration, which passed the Indigenous Law recognizing the Mapuche people, all of that came to a screeching halt under the dictatorship of General Augusto Pinochet. A once-independent proud people were reduced to what most indigenous nations face today: severe poverty, rampant discrimination, and a threatened identity. 

Yet, the culture continues, both within the Mapuche themselves and those who want to learn more about them. I fall in the latter category, as I was looking for recipes for a rather sizeable cut of picanha or top sirloin cap. My search led me down well trodden pathways, usually ending with recipes that involved the preparation of a chimichurri. Those pathways are well trodden for a reason: chimichurri is the go-to condiment for grilled meats in Brazil, Argentina and Chile. I wanted to do something different, and I wanted to take a path less taken. That led me to the Mapuche and to Merken.

Merken is a ground chile mix prepared by the Mapuche. The traditional preparation involves a particular chile: the goat horn chile or cacho de cabra. The chiles are first smoked and then dried. Thereafter, they are ground to a powder, producing one of two spice mixes. There is Merken Natural, which consists of the ground chiles and salt. Then there is Merken Especial, which includes not only the ground chiles and salt, but also toasted, ground coriander seeds. The preparation of the especial is rather exact in its proportions: 70% ground chile, 20% ground salt and 10% ground toasted coriander seed. 

Both preparations have an important role in Mapuche cuisine. They are used not only in rubs or marinades for grilled meats (which is my intended use), but also for soups and stews. Merken is basically that spice mix or condiment that is used much in the way cooks would use black pepper or cayenne pepper to season a dish. 

Finally, cacho de cabra may not be available everywhere. (It certainly was not available where I live.) I looked for suitable alternatives, which may include the aji pepper from Peru or even the Hatch chile from New Mexico. However, the key to merken is that the chile is smoked. That step is important because it imparts particular aromatic and taste elements. Not any dried chile can recreate those elements completely. For that reason, I went with an ancho chile pepper. Ancho chiles are sometimes dried with the use of smoke and are known for contributing smoke elements to dishes. If you have dried chipotle peppers, those would work well too. If you wanted to balance out the smoke, perhaps use a mix of dried ancho (or chipotle peppers) and dried guajillo or hatch chiles. 

In the end, I can say that this particular chile spice mix is incredible; and, I can only imagine what it would be like if I actually had cacho de cabra chiles on hand.  This recipe - and this post - represent a first step in learning more about the Mapuche, both their culture and their cuisine. Who knows where the next step will take me.

MERKEN ESPECIAL

Recipe from The Food Dictator

Ingredients:

• 8.5 teaspoons dried seeded cacho de cabra pepper flakes
• 2.5 teaspoons salt
• 1 teaspoon coriander seeds

Directions:

1. Prepare the ingredients. If the peppers are leathery, they will need to be crisped. Place them on a baking sheet and put them in a 350 degree Fahrenheit oven. Immediately turn off the heat and let the peppers sit in the oven a few minutes. Remove the peppers from the oven and let them cool on the baking sheet. Toast the coriander seeds in a dry skillet until fragrant.

2. Prepare the mixture. Grind the salt and coriander seed together in a spice mill or coffee grinder until fairly finely textured. Crumble the peppers into the mill and grind the mixture to whatever consistency you desire. 

PEACE.

Grilled Broccoli

I hate broccoli.  I really hate broccoli.  I hate it so much that I find myself repeating how much I hate broccoli.  If I could, I would ban broccoli from plates across the country.  That desire is the one and only position that I share in common with the 41st President, George Herbert Walker Bush.  

Over 15 years ago, President George H.W. Bush banned broccoli from the plates served at the White House.  According to the New York Times, President Bush not only declared that he did not like broccoli, but he stated, "And I haven't liked it since I was a little kid and my mother made me eat it. And I'm President of the United States, and I'm not going to eat any more broccoli!"  Many a time I have made that same declaration!

But alas, I live with my beautiful Angel, who loves the flowering cabbage that the Italians call "broccolo" and, hence, what we call "broccoli."  She has rightfully pointed out that I do not eat enough vegetables (a fact that is somewhat reflected in this rather meat-centric blog).  Broccoli has a lot of health benefits, including the ability to help lower cholesterol, as well as provide some important vitamins and phytonutrients.

I think that my opposition to broccoli comes from eating steamed broccoli.  I have never really been a fan of the taste of steamed broccoli.  Even knowing the health benefits of broccoli cooked in this fashion, I still figuratively hold my nose whenever I eat it.  

Nevertheless, I wanted to make some broccoli for my beautiful wife, so I went searching for a recipe.  That search led me back to the the New York Times.

Sam Sifton of the New York Times provided a very simple recipe for grilled broccoli.  Just a few ingredients -- balsamic vinegar, tamari or soy sauce, olive oil, and salt -- come together for a very interesting "marinade" that goes on the broccoli just before grilling.  This recipe produces some very tasty broccoli that ultimately led to a caveat to my previous declaration: "I am not going to eat any more broccoli, unless it is grilled." 

GRILLED BROCCOLI

A recipe from the New York Times

Serves 4

Ingredients:

1 head of broccoli, about 2 pounds, cored and cut 

     into 1 inch florets

3 tablespoons of balsamic vinegar

3 tablespoons of tamari or soy sauce

1 tablespoon of extra virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling

1 tablespoon of flat leaf parsley, finely chopped

Kosher salt, to taste

Flaky sea salt (optional)

Directions:

1.  Prepare the grill. Heat the grill, either charcoal or gas, to high.

2.  Prepare the "marinade." In a large bowl, whisk the tamari or soy sauce and the balsamic vinegar together. Add the olive oil while whisking vigorously.  Add the broccoli and toss to coat.   Sprinkle lightly with kosher salt.

3.  Grill the broccoli.  Place a grill basket on the grill and add the broccoli to it.  Grill, tossing frequently, until the florets are crisp and tender with just a little bite to them, approximately 10 to 12 minutes.  If you don't have a grill basket, lay the florets out on the grill in a single level and use tongs to turn them frequently.  More work, same result.

4.  Finish the dish.  Transfer the cooked broccoli to a platter or bowl, drizzle with a little olive oil, sprinkle with parsley, and, if using, a pinch or two of sea salt.

ENJOY!