"Avan w te pikliz sonje w te chou non mache kawbosal." ("Before you were pikliz, remember you were cabbage at the Kawbosal Market")
-- Haitian proverb
The proverb serves as a good reminder of many things. In one respect, it is a cautionary statement that one should always be humble and remember where they came from. That head of cabbage is about as simple as it can get. But, when combined with carrots, onions, chiles and vinegar, the cabbage becomes one of the most eponymous things of Haitian cuisine ... pikliz.
Although it may be an essential part of Haitian cuisine, its origin has been lost to time. Some allude to the influence of the French colonizers, who utilized the pickling process to extend the life of fresh foods, like vegetables and meats. But, pikliz is uniquely Haitian. It combines common vegetables that could be grown in a person's yard, like cabbage and carrots, along with a ready supply of pickling agent (such as the juice of sour oranges that could be collected from trees in the neighborhood. Add in the chiles, with provide the sting, and one has a side for which there is no direct or even indirect counterpart in French cuisine. Yet, it is a condiment that can almost be found on or near tables where Haitian food is served, whether in Haiti itself or among its diaspora around the world, including the United States.
Indeed, there is a large Haitian-American community in our country, nearly 731,000 people. That number makes Haitians and Haitian-Americans the 15th largest foreign-born community in the United States. The number of Haitians seeking refuge in the United States has increased in recent years and decades, as the turmoil and violence has increased in their home country. While a history lesson is probably best left for another post or perhaps another blog, it is safe to say that responsibility for the current circumstances in Haiti extend far beyond the Haitians themselves to western powers such as the United States and France. Haiti's freedom came at a huge economic cost in terms of financial payments to France. Haiti was forced to repay $60 million to France during the 1800s, which would be nearly $2 billion in todays terms. The loss of financial resources stunted economic development and growth in Haiti. Political development and growth was stunted by U.S. foreign policy, which always prioritized interests other than those of the Haitians. Yet, as the situation continued to spiral downward, few have come to the aid of Haiti or its people. That led many Haitians to emigrate, leading to a diaspora that extends up and down the Western Hemisphere.
Haitians who have come to the United States have brought their culture and their cuisine, like pikliz, with them. It is not uncommon to venture to a Haitian restaurant, whether in the Little Haiti community of Miami, Florida or the one in Flatbush, New York City, and find pikliz on the table. Yet, the Haitians have contributed much more to the United States than that condiment. They have been contributing to the United States as long as there has been a United States. For example, hundreds of Haitians fought alongside Americans in Savannah during the American War for Independence. It is also established that the Haitian's own war for independence created the circumstances that led to the Louisiana Purchase, because it led a weakened France to sell the territory to the United States.
On a more individual level, Haitians who have come to this country have helped to improve it throughout our history. After gaining his freedom from slavery, Haitian Pierre Toussaint established charitable services for refugees in nineteenth century New York City. Mary Elizabeth Lange did the same at the same time in Baltimore Maryland. In more recent years, Haitians and Haitian-Americans have been contributing to all aspects of our economy, society and government. From music (Wyclef Jean) to literature (Edwidge Dandicat), from those who work in the medical fields to the agricultural fields, Haitians have become an important part of our country. So much so that even the CATO Institute recognizes that Haitians have assimilated very well into our country. The Haitian community, and the Haitian-American community, is an American community.
Yet, this administration has attacked this community by ending Temporary Protected Status for as many as 331,000 Haitians. That status was extended to Haitians who fled their homes due to natural disasters, violence and instability. They came to the United States, obtained residences and work permits, joining the active workforce and making a positive contribution to our economy and our society. Haitians actually participate in the workforce at a greater rate than native-born Americans. While TPS is a temporary status, it offers these Haitians an opportunity to pursue legal status through other avenues if they want to remain in this country. Those avenues will now close, and Haitians will be forced to return a country that may be an even worse condition than when they fled in the first place.
The decision to end TPS for Haitians is based solely upon racism and not on anything else. The current U.S. government welcomes anyone with white skin color, while it deports those with brown and black skin color. Unfortunately, American immigration policy has long been built upon, and fueled by, racism. It is also keeps the United States from becoming great. As I have previously noted with respect to discrimination against the Somali community, our country's greatness comes from its diversity. That diversity brings not only a variety of peoples from different places, but a range of perspectives, knowledge and ambition that contributed to the rise of this country in the 19th and 20th centuries. If we want America to be truly great again, then we need to free ourselves from the grips of racism and intolerance.
We need to remember that, when the United States was founded, it was a proverbial cabbage. However, over time, additional ingredients were added, like onions, carrots, peppers, scallions, bell peppers and chiles. Each of these new ingredients retained their identities alongside the cabbage, whether it is the crunch of the onions, the sweetness of the bell peppers, or the heat of the chiles. All of these ingredients were bound together with vinegar, with its sharp, tart taste. That vinegar taste represents our history, one that has been acidic and bitter, as demonstrated by slavery, segregation, Japanese internment camps, systemic and bureaucratic discrimination against a wide range of groups. Despite the acidity, and perhaps because of it, everything comes together just like pikliz. Indeed, the United States is a bowl of pikliz. We need to appreciate that, and, in the present moment, the contribution that one of those ingredients, the Haitian people living in the United States, have made to the greatness of our country.
1 small green, red or yellow bellow pepper, seeded and thinly sliced
2 scallions, thinly sliced
4 Scotch bonnet or habanero chiles, seeded and very thinly sliced
4 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 1/4 teaspoons kosher salt
12 black peppercorns
4 whole cloves
1 1/2 cups cane vinegar or white vinegar
Juice of 1 lime
Directions:
Pack vegetables and seasonings into a quart jar with a lid, add the vinegar and lime juice. Cover and refrigerate.
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Postscript: After the posting of this recipe, the United Startes District Court for the District of Columbia (Honorable Judge Reyes presiding) enjoined the rescission of temporary protected status for Haitians living in the United States by the Department of Homeland Security and Secretary Kristi Noem. For the moment, Haitians can continue to contribute to our country in the important ways that I discuss above.
According to legend, there were two men -- Bouki and ti-Malice -- who were very good friends. Bouki has a kindhearted soul, but he was also gullible and, in some respects, a freeloader. Bouki would always show up at the house of ti-Malice around lunch time, hoping to get a free meal. As Haitians are hospitable and welcoming into their homes, ti-Malice always shared his meal with Bouki.
However, ti-Malice was also a bit of a trickster. He worked out a plan that would get Bouki to second-guess coming over for lunch every day. ti-Malice prepared a very hot sauce, which he covered the meat that would be his lunch. As expected, Bouki came over for lunch and ti-Malice offered some of his sauce-covered meat as a meal.
The plan backfired. Bouki loved the hot sauce-covered meat. He then went out and told everyone in the town who delicious the sauce was and told them to visit ti-Malice's house to try it for themselves.
There are seemingly as many variations on that Haitian legend, as there are recipes for the sauce. Generally speaking, the sauce consists of shallots, bell peppers, tomato paste, vinegar and, of course, scotch bonnet peppers for the heat. The ingredients are cooked together in a pot to produce the hot sauce. Some recipes suggest an additional step: blending the ingredients together to produce a smoother sauce. Whether one goes with a traditional sauce (keeping the ingredients whole, as pictured in this post) or blended, Sos ti-Malice is a great accompaniment for many traditional Haitian dishes, like Griot and Tassot.
For me, the most important thing about this recipe is its underlying lesson. Traditional Haitian hospitality is something that could make the world a better place. (If only Haitians currently had the space and the means to provide that hospitality, but that is another post, series of posts or even another blog entirely.) But, when we try to be anti-social, we could end up with more people at our door. So, perhaps, the better approach to life is to be more welcoming and more hospitable. We can expand our own communities at many different levels. And, we can start by welcoming Haitian immigrants and migrants (along with other immigrants and migrants) into our communities to live, and in our homes for a meal, rather than trying to get them to go away.
1. Sauté the shallots and garlic. Heat the oil in a saucepan. Add the shallots and garlic. Saute until shallots are softened and translucent.
2. Continue preparing the sauce. Add tomato paste, vinegar and 2.5 cups of water. Whisk well to dissolve the tomato paste in the water and bring to a boil. Add the bell peppers, Scotch Bonnet peppers and cloves. Reduce heat to medium and simmer for 10 minutes.
3. Finish the sauce. Add parsley and salt. Stir to combine.
"People often think of Haiti as a place where you are not supposed to have any joy. I want to show that this is a place where you can have joy.
-- Edwidge Danticat
These words caught my attention because of their truth. The public discourse about Haiti in recent days, weeks, months and even years, focuses on the negative. And, to be sure, there have been a lot of negative things going on in Haiti for most of its existence (which dates back to 1804, when it became the first independent, African-American country in the Western Hemisphere).
Haitian-American Edwidge Danticat's observation reminds me that there is more to Haiti than all of the bad news. There are stories of independence, resilience, resourcefulness, and, there are stories of joy. One such story that I found over and over as I did some research for this post revolves around the dish, Poul Nan Sous.
One can find quite a few recipes for this dish, which translates from Poul Nan Sous into "Chicken in Sauce." Many of those recipes often come with memories of eating the dish with family. For example, Gregory Gourdet wrote in Food & Wine that this dish would greet him whenever he visited his "Memere" (forgive me for I can't get the accents). Others recount this dish in a very similar way, tying it to memories of family meals, where loved ones would gather together and be able to enjoy the stewed chicken as it rested in a spicy, garlicky sauce.
Yet, Poul Nan Sous is not only a source for joyful memories, it also has greater significance. As Chef Chris Viand explains, the chicken is marinated in an epis, which he refers to as the "go-to marinade" for Haitian cuisine. The marinade typically consists of habanero peppers, multi-colored bell peppers, garlic, lime juice, olive oil, scallions, parsley and thyme. Not only can this marinade be used to prepare meat, but it is also used in preparing rice dishes.
As is the case with any recipe, there can be as many variations as there are cooks. The recipe I used to prepare Poul Nan Sous had a more simplified epis, as there were no bell peppers or parsley (all of which were added later in the stew), but there was the addition of other citrus (lime juice and orange juice). The chicken was marinated with onions, with is common throughout all of these recipes. And, while each cook may have their own way to prepare the stew, the one thing that unites them is that the resulting dish must have a deep color. One does not want their guest to respond, "si vyann lan two blan" (or, "the meat is too white").
In the end, I prepared this dish and I can see why it becomes the focal point of a person's memory around family meals. The chicken took on, not just the color of the stew, but the kick from the Scotch Bonnet peppers, the garlic and the citrus of the marinade. In the end, I was left wanting some bread that I could use to sop up the leftover liquid from the stew. This will be a dish that I will make again ... and again ... and again.
3 pounds mixed bone-in chicken thighs and drumsticks, patted dry
3 tablespoons kosher salt
1 juicy orange, halved
1 juicy lime, halved
1 juicy lemon, halved
2 medium yellow onions, halved and thinly sliced
8 garlic cloves, sliced
2 Scotch Bonnet or habanero chiles, cut in half and sliced thin
1/4 cup fresh thyme leaves
Ingredients (for the stew):
1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
1/2 cup tomato paste
1 tablespoon kosher salt
2 red bell peppers, seeded and deveined, cut into long, thin slices
2 yellow bell peppers, seeded and deveined, cut into long, thin slices
2 cups chicken stock, salted homemade or store bought
Small handful of roughly chopped parsley
Directions:
1. Marinate the chicken. Put the chicken pieces in a large bowl and season with salt. Squeeze the citrus halves over the chicken and then spend a minute or so rubbing the cut sides of the citrus against the chicken. Add the onions, garlic, chile and thyme and toss well, rubbing the chicken as you do. Cover and marinate in the fridge for at least 12 hours or up to 48 hours.
2. Reserve the marinade. Preheat the oven at 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Remove the chicken from the marinade, guiding any stuck-on aromatics back into the bowl. Set a strainer over a small mixing bowl. Pour the marinade through the straining reserving the solids and the liquids.
3. Brown the chicken. Heat the oil in a wide heavy, ovenproof pot (such as a 3 1/2 quart braiser) over medium high heat until just shimmery. Cook the chicken, skin side down, occasionally turning the drumsticks but not the thighs, until the skin is a deep brown, about 8 minutes. Transfer the chicken pieces to a plate.
4. Prepare the stew. Reduce the heat to medium low and add the tomato paste and salt, and cook, stirring often, until it turns several shades darker, about 3 minutes. Add the bell peppers and reserved solids from the marinade and cook, stirring occasionally until the peppers soften slightly and take on a little color, about 8 to 10 minutes.
5. Finish the dish. Return the chicken to the pan, skin side up and in a single layer. Then take a minute to pile the peppers, onions and other aromatics on top of the chicken. Then evenly pour in the reserved liquid from the marinade, along with the stock. Cook in the oven, basting every 15 minutes to coat the chicken with the peppers and sauce, until the sauce has thickened slightly and the meat pulls off the bone with a gentle tug from a fork, about 1 hour. Garnish with parsley and serve.
My Around the World in 80 Dishes challenge reaches another milestone ... the fiftieth (50th) challenge. This particular challenge takes us to The Gambia, which is the smallest country by square mileage on the African continent. A narrative would describe this country as a sliver of land, beginning along the shores of the Atlantic Ocean, at the estuary of a river that shares the same name as the country. That river, the Gambia River, snakes its way inland, as does the country, which extends from north and south along the river. Yet, at its widest point, The Gambia spans only thirty-one (31) miles from north to south. To put that in some perspective, that distance is shorter than the drive down Interstate 95 from Baltimore, Maryland to Washington, D.C.
Agriculture figures prominently in The Gambia. Around seventy-five percent (75%) of the population is involved in one way or another in agriculture, and, their combined effort results in agriculture constituting twenty-five percent (25%) of the country's gross domestic product. One could find a wide range of crops grown along the Gambia River, such as cassava, yams, tomatoes, rice and lentils. However, if you truly want to know more about The Gambia, you need to know more about gerte ... or peanuts. Those groundnuts play an important part in the economy, the culture and the cuisine of the country.
The Portuguese originally introduced the peanut to the region during the sixteenth century. But, it was the British turned who turned it into a cash crop, Today, with the shackles of colonialism long gone, peanuts continue to be the cash crop of The Gambia, grown on one-third of the country's arable land. Those crops support approximately one-quarter of The Gambia's population. It is not just growing the crop, but also processing the peanuts into goods for sale, namely, peanut butter.
"Every child in The Gambia learns that we depend upon groundnuts." -- Musa Loum
Yet, despite the rather heavy emphasis on agriculture, the country produces only about half of the food its people need to eat. Moreover, food insecurity. poses a significant threat to the people of The Gambia. There are many reasons to explain why there is not enough food, from low crop yields to the exports of the production to countries like the United Kingdom and the United States. For example, approximately sixty percent [60%] of the groundnut production is exported.) According to the World Food Programme, about twenty-seven percent (27%) of the population faces food insecurity, and nearly double that percentage -- 53.4% -- live in poverty.
There is a even larger threat looming on the horizon ... climate change. Groundnuts, like peanuts, require a certain amount of water. That means there needs to be a certain amount of rain or precipitation. However, growers in The Gambia find that total rainfall has decreased by 8.8 milliliters since 1960. That may not seem like a lot. But for a grower of a subsistence crop, or even a crop destined for export, that change in the amount of rain means something. The reduction in rain has resulted from more erratic rain patterns. Those uncertain patterns result in smaller peanuts and, by extension, smaller yields, creating greater issues for a very small country and its people.
MAIN COURSE
For this challenge, I draw my inspiration from the peanut. I prepared the national dish of The Gambia, which is known as Domada. The name -- Domada, or perhaps more appropriately Domodah or Tigadena -- means peanut butter sauce. That is an apt description of the reddish-orange stew, whose aroma and taste feature peanut butter. Domoda is typically prepared with whatever vegetables are available, along with tomato paste, chicken stock and maggi cubes (bouillon cubes). It also features some protein, usually beef or chicken.
DOMADA (GAMBIAN PEANUT STEW)
Recipe from Daring Gourmet
Serves 4
Ingredients:
1 pound beef steak or chicken breast, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
1 large onion, diced
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 Roma tomatoes, diced
1/2 can (3 oz) tomato paste
3/4 cup of natural, unsweetened peanut butter
4 Maggi or Knorr tomato bouillon cubes
3 cups water
Scotch bonnet chiles, diced, according to heat preference
4 cups pumpkin or sweet potato, diced
Salt and pepper to taste
Directions:
1. Prepare the stew. Heat the oil in a large Dutch oven. Sauté the onions until golden. Add the beef (or chicken) and garlic and continue to sauté until the beef is no longer pink (or the chicken is browned). Add the tomatoes and cook for 3 minutes. Add the tomato paste, chiles, peanut butter and stir to combine. Add the water and bouillon cubes. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, cover and simmer for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add squash, cover and continue to cook for 35-40 minutes or until the pumpkin or sweet potato is tender, stirring occasionally. Season with salt and pepper.
2. Finish the dish. Serve hot with rice.
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The preparation of Domada was fairly easy and the resulting dish is very delicious. The hardest part of this challenge is preparing the national dish of The Gambia while knowing that so many Gambians live in poverty and suffer from food insecurity. That knowledge has been weighing a lot on me lately as I explore cuisines and cultures where the people are struggling to survive. Until next time ...
There is something about a whole fish that is either roasted or grilled. The entire fish - head to tail (minus the innards), laying on the plate, inviting the diner to peek below the skin to see the flaky, flavored meat. Working one's way down the filet and then lifting the backbone to reach the other fillet resting on the plate. It is perhaps the best way to enjoy fish because the cooking process ensures the maximum amount of flavor, given the fish is cooked with the bones and the skin.
As much as I love whole fish, it is a preparation that I have rarely done. There are quite a few reasons; however, the main one is that I had some difficulty in finding whole fish that I would want to cook in this manner. Most standard grocery stores don't carry a large selection of whole fish. Some higher end stores have the selection, but it comes with a rather hefty price. All of this changed when I started shopping at the local Asian markets. Those stores had a large selection of whole fish.
I recently decided to take advantage of that selection. I purchased four whole sea bass because I wanted to make a New York Times recipe for whole roast fish with lemongrass and ginger. This particular recipe reminded me of my recent forays through southeast Asian cuisine. The lemongrass and ginger reminded me of Burmese (or Myanmar) cuisine, which utilizes these ingredients provide freshness to their curry dishes. The use of habanero chiles evokes Laotian cuisine, which boasts of dishes that have a spicy kick. The coconut milk draws parallels to Thai curries. All of these ingredients come together for a completely unique dish, which is why the recipe caught my attention.
This recipe worked very well with sea bass. It could also work well with any other mild white fish. Truth be told, that would most likely come in the form of whole Tilapia, but it might work well with speckled trout or rainbow trout. Other mild white fish, such as cod, grouper or halibut are rarely sold whole and, if so, are well beyond the budgets of most people (including me).
WHOLE ROAST FISH WITH LEMONGRASS AND GINGER
Recipe from New York Times Cooking
Serves 4
Ingredients:
2 1/2 pounds of whole fish, scaled and cleaned (about 3 branzino)
6 tablespoons of neutral oil (such as grapeseed or canola oil)
4 scallions, green parts sliced and white parts trimmed and left whole
1 scotch bonnet chile, with or without seeds, chopped
1 shallot, peeled and and chopped
2 lemons
1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric
1/2 cup full fat coconut milk
10 cilantro sprigs, cut crosswise
Directions:
1. Prepare the fish. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit. Pat the body and inside of the fish dry, and space the fish evenly apart on an unlined sheet pan. Using a sharp knife, cut two diagonal slits, 2 inches apart, into the skin of each fish, making sure not to cut through to the bone. Repeat the slits on the other side. Drizzle both sides and the inside with 3 tablespoons of oil and season with 1 1/2 tablespoons salt.
2. Prepare the marinade. Working in batches if necessary, transfer the lemongrass to the bowl of an asanka or a mortar. Use the pestle to pound the lemongrass pieces until fragrant. Move the crushed pieces to one side of the mortar bowl or the asanka. Add the ginger pieces and repeat the process until they are crushed. Combine the ginger and the lemongrass. Add the scallion greens and the scotch bonnet chile. Use the pestle to crush and combine these with the lemongrass mixture. Add the shallot and the zest of 1 lemon, crush and combine with the paste. Stir in the turmeric and coconut milk. (Makes about 1 1/4 cup marinade.) As an alternative, you can use a food processor, adding the ingredients in order and pulsing them together. Stir in the turmeric and coconut milk.
3. Continue to prepare the fish. Slice the zested lemon into 3 or 4 rounds. Spread the marinade generously over both sides of each fish and about 2 tablespoons into each cavity. Place a lemon slice, the white end of a scallion and some cilantro sprigs in each cavity. (At this point, the fish can be left to marinate for up to 30 minutes or covered and refrigerated overnight.) Drizzle the tops of the fish with the remaining oil.
4. Roast the fish. Roast the fish until firm and cooked through, rotating the sheet pan once halfway through the process, about 22 to 25 minutes. Slice the remaining lemon into wedges. Serve the fish over steamed rice or alongside a hearty salad with lemon wedges for squeezing.
The statement of culinary historian and chef, Michael Twitty, refers to the impact that Africans and African-Americans have had on the cuisine of this country, specifically with respect to shellfish, such as lobsters and crawfish. Before being brought to the New World, Africans had extensive experience catching, preparing and eating shellfish. Twitty recounts that experience along the African coast from Senegal to Benin. Whether it is lobster in spicy okra stews of Sierra Leone or the large shrimp thrown on red hot grills in Benin, it is well worth the read.
Indeed, it was Twitty's words that drew me to this particular recipe for West African-style Broiled Lobster Tails. Twitty noted the red brick slipper lobsters or spiny lobsters that could be found in a Senegalese market, along with the local cooks who knew how to prepare the crustaceans with available ingredients, including tomatoes, ginger, garlic and habanero peppers. Some of those ingredients - such as the garlic and the chiles - find their way into this recipe, as does the Maggi cube, which seem to find their way into many African recipes.
The foregoing is not just African culinary history, it is also American culinary history. The Africans who were forcefully brought to the New World as slaves brought their knowledge of how to prepare foods. They incorporated that knowledge with the ingredients they found here, such as those lobsters or crawfish. Their work laid the foundation for many of the dishes that can be found on tables in restaurants and at home across our country.
The late Cornelius White working on an oyster skipjack on the Chesapeake Bay (Source: Visit Annapolis)
There is so much more to the role that African-Americans have played in the culinary history of the United States. They have had a profound impact on what ends up on the plate. This aspect of our history includes the stories of African Americans who worked in every aspect of the seafood trade. It is the story of two African-American business partners, William Coulburne and Frederick Jewett, who opened the Coulbourne and Jewett Packing Company. This company began by processing fish, but it moved on to processing crab meat. Coulburne and Jewett introduced the method of sorting crab meat by backfin, lump, claw, special and regular. It is also the story of Downes Curtis, an African-American who lived in Oxford, Maryland. In the 1920s, he was a well known sailmaker, who produced sails by hand for vessels not only in the Chesapeake Bay area, but for famous people as well. The history of African Americans includes the story of every oysterperson along the Chesapeake Bay who plied the waters to harvest oysters. It also includes the story of every African-American fisherman or shrimper who brought his or her catch to the markets in New Orleans and across the Gulf of Mexico. That history began before the founding of our country (that is, in 1619) and it continues to the present day.
These stories are our history. They are important. They should not be reserved for one month in a year. They deserve to be told over and over again, because their contribution needs to be recognized, not forgotten. In the end, each of these stories is proof that there is so much more than what is simply on a plate. That has become the purpose of my blog. Only time will tell if I can fulfill it.
1 inch piece of roughly chopped fresh turmeric or 2 teaspoons of powdered turmeric
1/2 bunch flat leaf or curly parsley, chopped
2 celery stalks, leaves and all, roughly chopped
3 green onions (scallions), sliced,
7 cloves garlic, smashed
1 small red onion, sliced
1 small Scotch Bonnet pepper (spicy) or 1 medium red bell pepper (not spicy), stem removed and chopped
1 crushed small Maggi cube
1 tablespoon canola oil
Directions:
1. Prepare the rub. Add all of the wet ingredients in a food processor and pulse until the mixture is fully pureed. Scrape down the sides and process again. Repeat until the mixture is more or less smooth.
2. Prepare the tails. Using a sharp knife, half each lobster tail lengthwise, cutting almost all the way through the soft side and use your hands to pull gently at each side to lay the lobster flat. Place split lobster tails on a flat surface and season with the wet rub. Place in a resealable plastic bag and close securely. Allow the lobster tails to marinate in the refrigerator for at least 1 hour or up to 6 hours.
3. Broil the tails. Pull the lobster out 30 minutes before broiling and allow to come to room temperature. Heat your broiler to 450 to 500 degrees Fahrenheit. Place lobster tails seasoned side up. Cook until the meat becomes opaque white and the shell turns bright red, or for about 8-10 minutes.
4. Finish the dish. Remove from the broiler. Brush the lobster tails with melted butter and serve immediately.
I am a huge fan of the Jamaican jerk style of cooking. The combination of spices and peppers, along with the smoky notes used when cooked over wood is perhaps one of the best ways to cook proteins. When it comes to the protein, one most often sees jerked chicken. However, the cooking process has also been used for pork, beef, goat and lamb. It has even been used for shrimp and shellfish.
I have prepared jerked chicken in the past, but I got to thinking that this style and process of cooking seemed perfect for octopus. Generally speaking, a common way to prepare octopus is to marinate the tentatcles and then grill it. This cooking technique is perhaps best known from the octopus dishes prepared in Greece. The basic method of cooking remains the same, the only differences would be the marinade and (in theory) the actual cooking process (that is, the wood used if one were using wood). In the end, those differences do not really matter, because the overall style of jerk cooking seemed to be a natural fit for octopus. And, it was.
I went back to some old jerk recipes to come up with a good jerk marinade for the octopus. The key to the marinade is the use of allspice and, of course, the scotch bonnet pepper (or a habanero, if your local market does not have the scotch bonnet). Other spices, such as cloves, cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg help to round out the marinade. Once the marinade is ready, the tentacles should be marinated for at least a few hours, but overnight may be preferable.
When it comes to cooking, if one wants to be authentic, then he or she would grill the octopus over the coals from a pimento wood fire. I did not have any pimento wood. So, I grilled the tentacles on my gas grill. It worked just as well when it came to the requisite charring of the edges, but, it will lakc the smoky element that only grilling over hardwood can give. (One could always cheat and add a little smoked paprika to the marinade, but I did not cheat with this recipe.) I was fine without the smoky taste. The octopus was just too damn good to even care.
1 1/2 tablespoons of allspice (freshly ground is best)
1/3 cup dark brown sugar, packed
4 garlic cloves
1 tablespoon thyme
1 bunch scallions (white part, chopped)
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
3 Scotch bonnet chiles (deseeded)
Juice of 2 large limes
1 teaspoon salt
Directions:
1. Marinade the octopus. Blend the allspice, sugar, cloves, thyme, scallions, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, cloves, chiles, lime juice. Insert skewers through the octopus to straighten the tentacles. Combine the marinade with the octopus and allow it to marinate in the fridge for a couple of hours, or overnight.
2. Grill or broil the octopus. Cook the octopus over direct heat, flipping frequently until a little charred, brushing every now and then with the marinade (because the octopus is already precooked, there is no worry about contamination). Serve immediately with a side, such as Jamaican rice and peas.
Maya Angelou once said, "while the rest of the world has been improving technology, Ghana has been improving the quality of man's humanity to a man." There perhaps is no better example of this saying than Kofi Annan, the Ghanaian born diplomat who served as United Nations Secretary-General from January 1997 through December 2006. While his tenure was not without its criticism, there is no doubt that, overall, Secretary-General Annan's made a significant contribution to world peace, but that is a subject for a different blog.
My personal culinary challenge, Around the World in 80 Dishes, takes me to the country where the former Secretary-General was born and raised. My latest challenge is to prepare a main course from the Republic of Ghana. This country has a long, documented history going back to at least to the fifth century B.C. This history is one of organized states, such as the Ashanti, the Akwamu, the Bonoman, the Denkyira and the Maskessim. Those independent states were eclipsed by colonialist powers, namely the British Empire. While I am a big fan of history, this aspect of Ghana's past is not the subject at hand.
Rather, I want to focus on the history of Ghanaian cuisine, which seems to be a rather elusive subject. There are a lot of websites that talk about Ghanaian foods, but very little about the history of those foods. As much as I want to learn about fufu, bofrot and red red, I want to know how those dishes and others originated and evolved over time. And, that has proven to be quite difficult.
After spending a lot of time looking for that elusive history, I have decided to make two dishes: Chichinga and Jollof Rice with Goat. These dishes touch upon two aspects of Ghanaian cuisine: street food and staple foods.
APPETIZER
According to Lydia Polgreen, "few countries reward the sidewalk chowhound like Ghana. The good street food is where then Ghanaians converge, such as bus stations, markets, interchanges, and construction sites. Vendors are present, selling a wide range of foods, including kebabs, such as Chichinga (or kyinkyinga). These kebabs are small pieces of meat covered in peanut flour and spices, grilled with vegetables over charcoal. Chef Zoe Adjonyoh calls it Ghana's answer to the shish kebab.
For this dish, I decided to use goat for the meat. Goat production provides a ready source of protein and their adaptability means that they can be raised in different climates. Given the number of government websites providing instructions on how one could raise their own goats, it would seem that goat production is encouraged. I don't have to travel far to get goat, because I have a lot in my freezer at home. So, with some vegetables that are vaguely reminiscent of the red, yellow and green of the Ghanaian flag, I made these tasty skewers.
Ingredients:
3-4 tablespoons of the suya spice mix (see recipe below)
3 tablespoons rapeseed or groundnut oil, plus extra for brushing
2 pounds of goat, cubed
2-3 bell peppers, cored, deseeded, cut into chunks
1 red onion, cut into quarters and separated
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon black pepper
Directions:
1. Prepare the goat. Mix the dry spice mix with the rapeseed oil in a bowl. Add the goat to the bowl and massage the mixture thoroughly into the meat. Thread the chunks of pepper, onion and beef onto skewers. The longer the skewers can marinate, the better. Lay the skewers in a dish, cover with plastic wrap and marinate for at least 1-2 hours, but preferably overnight.
2. Prepare to cook the skewers. Take the skewers out of the fridge and leave them to sit at room temperature for a few minutes while you prepare a charcoal or gas grill, brush the meat with ground nut oil, and season with the salt and pepper before adding to the grill.
3. Cook the skewers. Turn the grills after 3-4 minutes on each side depending on the size of the goat pieces. Remove from heat and let rest for 2-3 minutes. Serve immediately.
SPICE MIX
Suya refers to the style of cooking, but it is a spice mix that incorporates chiles, peanuts and a range of spices. It is what makes chichinga.
This was the first time I used roasted, ground peanuts for a spice mix. The thing to keep in mind is that the peanuts still have some oil in them, which results in clumping. That just requires a little more work to smooth out the spice mix before applying it to the goat.
1/2 cup of peanuts, ground and roasted
2 teaspoons ground hot or cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon salt
Directions:
Mix all of the ingredients for the spice mix together in a bowl. Transfer to an airtight container in a cool, dark place. Store for up to one month. If you've added fresh ingredients, store in the fridge and use within a week.
MAIN COURSE
For the main course, I made Jollof Rice with Goat Meat. There is some debate about whether this dish is truly Ghanian, as Nigeria lays claim to the dish, as do several other African countries. Nevertheless, for my Around the World in 80 Dishes challenge, I am making Ghana's version of the dish. The base of Jollof rice is, besides the rice, the use of tomatoes, tomato paste, scotch bonnet peppers, salt, spices and vegetable oil. The tomatoes and the paste give the dish its signature red hues, while the scotch bonnet peppers provide the spicy kick. The remaining spices round out the flavor of the dish.
This challenge produced not just a main course. Eating one dish of Jollof Rice with Goat Meat felt like eating an entire meal. That makes sense, since the word Jollof comes from the Wolof people. The word means "one pot," a common term that we today associate with one-pot meals.
Ingredients (for the Jollof):
1 large onion
1 tablespoon turkey berries (optional)
1 scotch bonnet pepper
3 tomatoes, chopped
1/4 cup vegetable oil
3 tablespoons tomato paste or puree
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
2 cups of long or medium grain rice
Stock from cooking of goat meat
Salt, as required
1 teaspoon shrimp substitute for shrimp stock or chicken stock cube
Water, as required
Salt, as required Directions: 1. Prepare the goat meat. Wash and clean the goat meat and put in a sauce pan. Blend the garlic, ginger, scotch bonnet, green bell pepper, onion, anise and cumin seeds together. Pour over goat meat. Add salt and curry powder and cook under high heat. Add hot water as and when necessary to tenderize the meat. Meanwhile, blend the onions, scotch bonnet and turkey berries (if you are using them) together and set aside.
2. Brown the goat. Pour oil in a heavy bottom saucepan with a tight lid and place on medium heat. When hot, add the meat to fry, reserving the stock for later. Remove the meat from the sauce pan and set aside. Add additional oil if there is not enough oil in the saucepan.
3. Continue making the stew. Add tomato paste or puree and stir fry for about 2 minutes. Add the blended onions, scotch bonnet and turkey berries. Add chopped tomatoes and stir. Add nutmeg and cover the lid. Simmer on high heat for about 5 minutes until cooked through and not tasting raw.
4. Prepare the rice. Rinse the rice until the water is clear. Add the rice to the stew, reserved goat meat stock from the cooked meat, ground shrimp or chicken stock, taste for salt and just enough water as needed. Cover tightly and bring to a boil. Once it starts boiling, remove lid, use a thin wooden ladle or a long for to stir from the bottom to top.
5. Continue to cook the dish. Cover tightly and let simmer on low heat for 10-12 minutes. after the time has elapsed, remove lid, stir again Stir in fried goat meat at this point. Cover tightly and let simmer for 10 more minutes until it is well cooked. Serve alone or with fried ripe plantains and coleslaw as desired.
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In the end, this challenge was my second attempt at cooking goat (technically my second and third attempt, but who is counting anyways). Both the Chichinga and the Jollof Rice were very good. The only issue that I had was that goat in both of the dishes was not tender enough (especially in the Jollof Rice dish). I will need to work on my goat cooking techniques. Until next time...
I needed a jerk chicken recipe. I planned on making some jerk chicken as a main savory dish for the birthday party of one of my closest friends. To be sure, I have made jerk chicken in the past. Those recipes can be found on this blog: once as my Around the World in 80 Dishes challenge for the country of Jamaica and a second time for a Savage Bolek's Barbecue. Both jerk chicken recipes were very good. However, I wanted a new and different recipe for Jamaican Jerk chicken. A recipe that is unique. Something that would make the chicken worthy of birthday party for my friend.
As usual, I scoured the Internet for recipes. As with practically everything on the Internet, there is no shortage of jerk chicken recipes. I needed to focus my search. My first step is to look for authentic recipes. That whittled down the number, but I was still unsatisfied with the recipes. I needed to go a step further. I began doing different types of searches. This led me to a recipe that immediately caught my attention: Bob Marley's Jerk Chicken. I am a huge fan of reggae generally, and of Bob Marley and the Wailers in particular. The thought that I could make a jerk recipe that comes from the Marley family was an opportunity that I could not pass up. I got the ingredients that I needed, a whole of chicken parts (breasts and thighs) and I prepped the marinade. After ensuring the chicken was covered with the marinade, I placed the chicken in the fridge to rest overnight. I did the same.
The next day, as the chicken was still marinating the fridge, I got to thinking. Was this really Bob Marley's recipe? Could this even be a recipe from the Marley family? I returned to the Internet to explore the recipe's provenance a little further. The first clue that I fund was not too promising. While I got the recipe from the Food Network, I did not look at the time to see where the recipe came from. Whens I returned to to the recipe, I saw that the recipe was from a segment that aired on episode of Emeril Live. The second clue was somewhat ambiguous. The recipe was provided courtesy of Bob Marley ... a Tribute to Freedom. I had no idea what or who that was. However, I soon discovered the answer. Bob Marley ... A Tribute to Freedom is, Bob Marley ... a restaurant at Universal Studios in Orlando, Florida.
At this point, I was very suspicious as to whether this recipe was truly a recipe of Bob Marley or even the Marley family. (I should note that, during my research, I learned that Ziggy Marley has published a cookbook, which has a jerk chicken recipe.) Nevertheless, I continued my search, trying to find any link between a Universal Studios restaurant and the Marley family. I had hoped that there was some connection between the restaurant and the Bob Marley Foundation, which could somehow provide some insight into the origin of the recipe. My search did not produce any information that would have led me to believe that this particular recipe was truly one from the Marley family. Moreover, there were significant differences between this recipe and Ziggy Marley's recipe (such as the latter using garlic but not using soy sauce) that leave me with some doubts.
And, then, I got to thinking again. Did it really matter if it was Bob Marley's own recipe. Perhaps I had the wrong focus in my research. My thoughts turned to the intersection between Bob Marley and reggae, on the one hand, and Jamaican food (such as jerk chicken) on the other. Much like Americans blues music, there is a well developed line of reggae songs about cooking and food. (That is one of the many reasons why I love both reggae and blues so much.) There is Sunday Dishby Early B and Roast Fish and Corn Breadby Lee Perry. Both of these songs are musical recipes, with the musicians working ingredients and cooking techniques into the lyrics. Someday I will have to try to recreate these dishes for my blog. There are songs about ingredients, like Avocadoby Jah9. (She really does love her avocados, by the way.) There are even songs like Eyes No Seeby General Trees, which delve into issues underlying food, such as being swindled by producers and stores who mislabel what they sell to their customers.
The strong connection between reggae music and cooking/food means that, if one spends enough time, he or she will inevitably find songs by reggae artists about that iconic Jamaican food: jerk chicken. Not only songs, but an actual "anthem" for jerk chicken. Lion Pawm Twinnz recorded a catchy anthem for every jerk chicken vendor, Jerk Chicken and Sauce:
Every second, every minute, every hour of the day. Listening to the song makes me very hungry for jerk chicken. It also reminds of the need for the spicy sauce that is served jerk chicken. The recipe from Bob Marley ... A Tribute to Freedom did not include a recipe for sauce. This omission was fine in this case because, as much as I love very spicy things, I would be cooking jerk chicken for a wide range of people who may not share my love of mouth-burning sensations. So, the sauce will have to wait for a future post.
In the end, even if this recipe is not actually Bob Marley's Jerk Chicken recipe, it nevertheless accomplished what Bob Marley would have certainly wanted: it got someone to think. While I may not have been thinking about the big issues, such as the wide disparity of income in Jamaica or the plight of the impoverished (which is what I do during my day job), the recipe got me to explore aspects of Jamaican culture and music that, heretofore, I had only thought about in a casual way.
One final note: the recipe from Bob Marley ... A Tribute to Freedom was for jerk chicken skewers. I used it on grilled chicken pieces. So, the cooking instructions are different. I adapted the grilling instructions from my prior efforts at jerk chicken as well as some of those countless other recipes on the Internet. As with the cooking of any meat, times can differ based of whether the cut is bone-in or boneless, how much you are grilling, whether you are using charcoal or gas, etc. So, be vigilant and do not blindly follow the cooking times. (That is actually a good piece of advice for any recipe; as is the additional note to keep a meat thermometer handy.)
BOB MARLEY'S JERK CHICKEN
Recipe adapted from Bob Marley: A Tribute to Freedom
1 hot pepper, finely ground (or 2 Scotch bonnet peppers)
1 teaspoon ground black pepper
3 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon cooking oil
1 tablespoon cider or white vinegar
7 pounds of chicken (legs, thighs, breasts)
Directions: 1. Prepare the marinade. Mix together the onion, scallion, thyme, salt, sugar, allspice, nutmeg, cinnamon, hot pepper, black pepper, soy sauce, oil and vinegar. Add the chicken and make sure the marinade covers the chicken. Cover and refrigerate for at least 2-3 hours and preferably overnight.
2. Prepare the chicken for grilling. Remove the chicken from the refrigerator and allow the chicken to come to room temperature. Remove the chicken from the marinade and wipe away any excess marinade.
3. Grill the chicken. Heat a charcoal grill or gas grill to medium high heat. You should make sure that you have some areas where you can use direct heat and indirect heat Depending upon the pieces being grilled (breast or thigh/legs), you should grill for a total of 30 to 40 minutes until the chicken reaches 165 degrees Fahrenheit. The grilling process should be divided into quarters: grill the chicken for about 7-8 minutes and then rotate the chicken by 90 degrees, cooking it for another 7 to 8 minutes. This will create grill marks on the chicken. Flip the chicken and repeat the process again. If it is appears that some pieces are cooking faster than others, move them to the side of the grill for indirect cooking.
4. Finish the dish. Once the chicken reaches 160 to 165 degrees Fahrenheit, remove the chicken from the grill and allow it to rest, covered in foil, for 5 to ten minutes. Serve immediately.
Recently, I was reading an article called The Light of Morning: The Cuisine of Haiti in Saveur. It was an interesting perspective of Joceyln Zuckerman. She traveled to Haiti after the earthquake in 2010 and discussed her experience with Haitian food during her trip. In particular, the author went to the town of Gros-Morne, in northwestern Haiti. Zuckerman's discussion of the food and cuisine is fascinating because it provides an insight into how people make the most out of the little that they have.
One of the dishes that Zuckerman had during her stay was Poisson Rouge or "Red Fish." The name does not come from the use of red fish. Instead, it comes from the deep red, spicy broth in which the fish is cooked and served.
As Zuckerman described the dish, "[m]y poisson rouge, a whole red snapper from the nearby seaside town of Gonaives, swims in a brick-colored sauce rich with garlic and the heat of Scotch bonnets; it comes with hunger-busting mounds of rice and cornmeal mush and dense cylinders of boiled plantain and cassava." The recipe provided by Saveur produced that brick-red sauce, but it did not call for rice, cornmeal mush or boiled plantain and cassava. Instead, it called for boiled beets and carrots. I am not a big fan of either boiled beets or carrots. I tried to substitute a boiled yam, but that did not work well either.
This is a great dish. I will make rice with this dish the next time. I think that the rice could absorb the "brick-colored sauce" and be just as tasty as the fish.
1/2 teaspoon of mustard powder
1/2 teaspoon of fresh thyme
1 Scotch Bonnet chile, split
1/4 cup canola oil
6 cloves of garlic, chopped finely
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 tablespoon sugar
Boiled carrots, beets, or other root vegetables
Sliced tomatoes
Directions:
1. Marinate the fish. Score sides of fish, and place in shallow dish. Whisk together half the shallots, lime juice, scallions, mustard, thyme, chile, salt and pepper in a bowl and pour over fish. Marinate for 30 minutes.
2. Begin making the cooking liquid. Heat oil in a skillet over medium high heat. Add garlic and cook, stirring, until fragrant, about 1 minute. Add tomato paste and cook until it begins to caramelize, about two minutes. Add 1 cup of water and bring to a boil. Cook, stirring, until almost evaporated, about eight to ten minutes. Remove fish from marinade and set aside. Add the marinade and sugar to the skillet. Cook, stirring, until the shallots are soft, about four to five minutes.
3. Cook the fish. Add the fish and 3/4 cup of water and cover skillet. Cook, turning the fish once, until the fish is cooked through, about eight to twelve minutes.
4. Plate the dish. Transfer fish to a large serving platter. Season cooking liquid with salt and pepper. Pour through a fine mesh strainer over the fish. Garnish with remaining shallots. Serve with carrots, beets, yams or other boiled vegetables. Also serve with tomato slices.
PAIRING THIS DISH
This dish is best paired with a white wine. I think a lighter, fruitier wine could work well with this dish, such as a Pinot Grigio. In this case, I paired a Chenin Blanc from South Africa with the Poisson Rouge.