Nasi Goreng Berkat

There are two atolls, consisting of more than two dozen coral islands, in the Indian Ocean that lie far from any major land mass. It is 1,683 kilometers (or 1,013 miles) from these islands to the nearest point in Australia (Exmouth). It is slightly shorter -- 1,270 kilometers (or 789 miles) from the islands to Indonesia (Jakarta). While not the most isolated places on Earth, these islands -- known as the Cocos Islands or the Keeling Islands -- are truly isolated.

The islands are formally a part of Australia, the result of the expansion of colonialism and the British empire, which formally annexed the islands in 1857. Yet, the inhabitants of the Cocos Islands have stronger cultural connections to southeastern Asia than anywhere in the United Kingdom or even Australia, which took control over the islands after a transfer of power from the U.K. in 1955. And, it is this connection that I wanted to explore, to learn more about the people and their cuisine. 

The history of the people, known as the Cocos Malay, goes back to at least 1825, when they were brought to the islands by a British trader, Alexander Hare. Soon thereafter, another British trader, John Clunies-Ross, took control of the island. Clunies Ross forced the slaves and indentured servants to work on coconut plantations to produce copra, the dried white flesh of the coconut.  The workers all toiled for the Clunies-Ross family under a basically feudal system for generations. The system ended in the late 1970s, when Australia forced the family to sell the islands to the government. The coconut and copra production was taken over by the Cocos Islands Cooperative Society, LTD., but ultimately ceased in the late 1980s.

The Cocos Malay people.

The Cocos Malay -- who number about 600 -- are predominantly Malay in ancestry, but their ancestors were brought in from not just British Malaya (now Malaysia and Singapore), but also the Dutch East Indies (now Indonesia), New Guinea (now Papua New Guinea), Ceylon (now Sri Lanka), and even as far away as South Africa. The Cocos Malay are united by their language, a distinct dialect known as Basa Pulu Kokos and their Muslim religion.  

Drawing from that heritage, the cuisine of the Coco Malay draws its influences from Malaysian, Indonesian and Sri Lankan cuisines. Yet, the Cocos Malay cuisine is distinct. There are dishes such as vegetarian rice noodles, sweet and sour fish, and ayam payang (chili chicken).  

This particular recipe reflects the Indonesian influences upon Cocos Malay cooking. The dish, nasi goreng, is the Indonesian version of Chinese fried rice. As the story goes, Chinese traders and migrants brought the dish to the East Indies, where the locals made it their own. The recipe serves an very good purpose, as it was a way to make use of leftover rice and other ingredients. In fact, the best rice to use is day-old rice, as its drier texture makes it easier to fry. 

Just as the Indonesian people took fried rice and made it their own through nasi goreng, the Cocos Malay have taken nasi goreng and, in turn, made it their own. However, given the Cocos Islands are relatively isolated, if it does not come from the sea or could be cultivated from small personal gardens, then it is to be imported. There is one exception ... the coconut. And it is coconut flakes that help the Cocos Malays make the nasi goreng their own. 

NASI GORENG BERKAT

Recipe from Travel by Stove

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 3 cups cooked white rice
• 1 tablespoon oil
• 3 cloves garlic, mashed
• 4 shallots, mashed
• 1 teaspoon Sambal Oelek (Malaysian chile paste)
• 1 tablespoon light soy sauce
• 1 teaspoon Maggie chicken bouillon cubes
• 2 red chiles, sliced
• 1/2 cup coconut flakes
• 1 cup mustard greens, chopped
• Sesame oil
• 1 piece skinless chicken, shredded

Directions:

1. Saute the garlic and onion. Heat the oil and saute the garlic with the onion, shallots, and Sambal. When fragrant, add the rice and mix well. Add the soy sauce and Maggie powder. Stir until well incorporated, then add the mustard greens, coconut, and sliced chiles.

2. Finish the dish. Drizzle a little sesame oil over the rice and serve with shredded chicken. 

PEACE.

Oysters with Citrus Pink Peppercorn Mignonette

If one is not specific in their research, then it could lead to unintended places. Take, for example, a search for the history of the mignonette sauce served alongside oysters. I entered those terms in an online search, but I ended up with the history of a vessel called "Mignonette." As I read that history, I was treatred to the story of sailors taking the vessel from England to Austrailia around the Cape of Good Hope. They never made it ... running into trouble off the coast of Africa. The story gets worse from there, ending in cannabalism as the desperate and hungry sailors ended up eating one of their own. 

(This is not my first encounter with a voyage gone wrong during my research. I previously posted about Captain Crockett's last breakfast, the meal he ate aboard his vessel before being killed by the cook.)

Nevertheless, the desperation and horror aboard a vessel was hardly the story I expected to find as I searched for the history of the mignonette sauce. I honed my research terms and was able to engage in more palatable reading: the history and oritgin of a sauce about which little thought is probably given by those who eat oysters.

With all of that said, the history of the mignonette sauce is a little less clear than what happened to the crew of the vessel. While the term mignonette is obviously French, there are some who believe the sauce originated in England. Regardless of its origin, a mignonette began as something completely different that its present day form. During the 16th and 17th centuries, the term referred to a small cloth satchel of crushed peppercorns and spices that would be added to broths, sauces, soups and stocks. The satchel would flavor the liquid while preventing the cracked spices from making their presence known in the final dish. 

Eventually, the sauce evolved into a mixture of vinegar with minced shallots and cracked black pepper. That evolution took place at some point during the nineteenth century. The sauce eventually became a popular condiment served alongside oysters in the late 1800s, especially among the upscale dining establishments in the United States and across Western Europe. The term, mignonette, means "small and sweet," which is an obvious reference to the oyster given the sauce consists of bitter and acidic ingredients. The combination of bitter and sweet helps to round out the experience of eating oysters.

That is pretty much the history of a mignonette sauce, small and sweet. 

This particular recipe takes a twist on the standard mignonette recipe. It uses rice wine vinegar, which is milder and sweeter than white wine vinegar or regular vinegar. It adds back in some acidity through the use of lemon juice and lime juice. It also provides a subtle pepper note through the use of cracked pink peppercorn, as opposed to the traditional tellicherry black peppercorn. This sauce is perhaps my favorite mignonette recipe because it tracks the traditional recipe but in creative ways. 

OYSTERS WITH CITRUS PINK PEPPERCORN MIGNONETTE

Recipe from Hama Hama Oysters

Serves 2-3

Ingredients:

• 1/3 cup rice wine viengar
• 1 lemon, juice & zest
• 1 lime, juice & zest
• 1/4 cup finely minced shallots (or substitute red onion)
• 1 teaspoon pink pepper corns, coarsely ground

Directions:

Stir all ingredients together and chill for an hour to infuse.

PEACE.

Haitian Style Spicy Grilled Octopus

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

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

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

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

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

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

HAITIAN STYLE SPICY GRILLED OCTOPUS

Recipe from Tchakayiti

Serves 4

Ingredients (for the broth):

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

Ingredients (for the sauce):

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

Directions:

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

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

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

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

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

PEACE.

New York City Oyster Pan Roast

"No, I do not weep at the world - I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife."

- Zora Neale Hurston, Dust Tracks on a Road

 

Oysters possess an amazing power: they can enable individuals and, indeed, entire communities, to overcome the economic, political, and social structures that are built to deprive and marginalize them. This power has been demonstrated, time and time again, throughout the history of the United States. But, perhaps, the one example that can best illustrate the uplifting potential of oysters involves a dish known as the New York City Oyster Pan Roast. 

To truly understand the example, one must go in 1791. In that year, Thomas Downing was born on Chincoteague Island, Virginia, to two African-American parents. At that time and in that State, slavery reigned. And, Downings parents had been slaves. But, their slave master -- Captain John Downing, a wealthy landowner in Oak Hall -- converted to Methodism, which condemned slavery. Captain Downing freed all of his slaves, including Thomas Downing's parents. As freed slaves, his parents were able to buy a small tract of land, where they settled and where Thomas Downing was born in 1791. 

While a part of the State of Virginia, Chincoteague Island provided somewhat of a refuge from the larger world. It was a landscape where Thomas Downing could learn to handle a boat amongst the barrier islands and fish the waters. Those waters were also teeming with oyster beds, providing Thomas with the opportunity to harvest oysters, developing a keen eye for which ones were the best. 

The refuge of Chincoteague Island could not keep out history. As the War of 1812 commenced, Thomas Downing (then age 21) joined the Army and marched north to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, where he was stationed. After the war ended, Downing stayed in Philadelphia, where he met his wife and started a family that included four sons and a daughter. Downing also got a job working in an oyster bar, and he eventually opened his own bar. During that time, Downing learned that many freed African-Americans went further north to New York City, where they worked on oyster vessels and in the oyster industry. Downing decided to take his family and follow that path.

Census records reveal that Downing made the move to New York City by 1819, where he was registered as an oysterman. But, he was his own oysterman. Downing rented a skiff and plied the waters in the New Jersey flats to harvest oysters, whether by dredging, plucking or tonging. As writer Cameron Oglesby once observed, "oystering was a profession that allowed Black men to act as their own bosses providing a new and liberating sense of self and economic independence from White industrial America." Downing was living proof of that statement at the time.  

More importantly, even though Downing was living and working in the North, where slavery had been outlawed, he still had to endure discrimination and oppression from a white society that did not view him as an equal. Downing had a plan to overcome those obstacles: he would open an oyster bar, or oyster cellar, as they were known in New York City. But not just any oyster cellar. 

Present day location of where Thomas Downing's
Oyster House once stood. (Source: Robt. Wright)

At the time, oyster cellars in New York City had a certain ill repute. Many oyster cellars were rough places, found in basements that could be located with a red balloon flying outside the door. Thomas Downing chose 5 Broad Street in lower Manhattan for his business. That location was just a short walk to the centers of economic power, such as the Merchant Exchange, Wall Street, and the Customs House. While oysters were a food enjoyed by everyone, from the poor to the rich, Downing understood that the wealthy would pay a lot more for the same food. His oyster bar would focus on bringing in that wealthier clientele. 

Thomas Downing opened his oyster cellar in 1825, which could be found in the basement of 5 Broad Street. He used the network of friends that he made while working as an oysterman to procure the oysters for his restaurant. He even used his skiff to go out onto the waters early in the morning to meet those friends and procure the best oysters before they even reached the shore, let alone the market. Downing also utilized print advertisements in newspapers to promote his restaurant, including an ad in the March, 30, 1938 edition of the New York Herald that read: 

Oysters! - Oysters!  - Oysters!

The above article may be had in their prime at Downing's. I take this method of informing my customers that I have a better stock of oysters on hand at present, than I have had this season. The lovers of the above article can (I feel assured) be fully satisfied by calling at my establishment. It is with pleasure that I say that I can give my customers a better Oyster at present, than I could at any time this eason. Strangers who have any doubts as regard to the superiority of the New York Oysters, have only to call and try, and be satisfied.

Thomas Downing, 5 Broad St.

N.B. I have a lot of Pickled Oysters on hand for importation.

Downing also used advertisements to draw in customers for other dishes he served, including "a turtle of rather a singular description." His hard work paid off: he built up a clientele of rich white people who spent a lot of money at his establishment. He was able to expand his restaurant, leasing 3 Broad Street and 7 Broad Street, creating a dining room with fine carpeting, chandeliers, mirrors and damask curtains. He was also able to utilize the steam generated underground to create a "vault" that allowed for oysters to remain fresh until they were ready to be prepared and served. His business only grew from there, with additional restaurants opening in other parts of the city, as well as a growing export business that sent oysters up and down the eastern coast, as well as overseas. By 1857, Thomas Downing had a net worth of $100,000, which would be the equivalent of $3,723,862 in today's dollars. Downing was the richest African American and indeed richer than most white Americans when slavery gripped half of the nation and exploited most African Americans. 

At his fine dining establishment, Thomas Downing served oysters in a variety of ways: scalloped oysters, oyster pie, turkey stuffed with oysters, as well as "oysters roasted on a gridiron over oak shavings."  Yet, the one dish that has survived over time, and for which Thomas Downing is best known, is his New York City Oyster Pan Roast. 

I found a recipe for a Thomas Downing-inspired New York City Oyster Pan Roast, which was adapted from a recipe developed by Albert Lukas, the supervising chef at the Sweet Home Cafe, which is located in the Smithsonian National Museum for African American History and Culture. 

The key to the recipe and, in fact, the entire dish is the sauce. The sauce is prepared with shallots, along with white wine, oyster liqueur (the liquid in the oysters when shucked), Worcestershire sauce, chili sauce, and hot sauce. The butter and heavy cream add thickness to the sauce, along with this relatively white color. The sauce serves as the base in which the oysters are "pan-roasted" only for a few minutes. The goal is to firm up the sides, making them plumper without overcooking them. The dish is completed by portioning the oysters in shallow bowls, ladling some of the sauce over them, and serving them with toasted, buttered bread, which can be used to mopping up the sauce.

NEW YORK CITY OYSTER PAN ROAST

Recipe from the Washington Post

Serves 6

Ingredients:

• 12 baguette slices, for serving 
• 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, 1 of them melted
• 1 medium shallot, minced
• 1/2 cup dry white wine
• 3 dozen freshly shucked oysters, preferably from the bay
• 1 cup oyster liqueur
• 3 teaspoons chile sauce
• 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
• 1 cup heavy cream
• Generous 1/4 teaspoon Tabasco sauce

Directions:

1. Toast the baguette slices. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Arrange the baguette slices flat on a baking sheet and brush the tops of each one using the tablespoon of melted butter. Bake on the middle rack for 12 to 16 minutes until golden brown. Remove from the oven and let cool. 

2. Saute the shallots.  Meanwhile, heat 1 tablespoon of the butter in a large saucepan over medium low heat. Stir in the shallot and cook for 5 to 8 minutes until tender, then add the wine. Increase the heat to medium and cook for 10 to 15 minutes or until the liquid is reduced by half. Stir in the oyster liquor and cook just long enough for the mixture to begin bubbling at the edges. 

3. Continue cooking. Add the chile sauce, Worcestershire sauce and cream, stirring to blend well. Cook for two minutes, then reduce the heat to medium low; add the oysters and stir to coat. Cook for 2 minutes, being careful not to overcook them. Gently stir in the Tabasco sauce and the remaining tablespoon of butter with the saucepan until thoroughly incorporated. Remove from the heat.

4. Finish the dish. To serve, place 6 oysters into wide shallow bowls (6 bowls total) and then ladle the chile cream sauce over the oysters in each bowl. Garnish each with 2 baguette slices.

*     *     *

Postscript: While Thomas Downing found his independence, both self and economic, through serving oysters to white America, he never forgot the larger backdrop to his success. Downing offered his Broad Street restaurant as a stop on the Underground Railroad, where he hid fugitive slaves from the 1830s until the end of slavery in the 1860s. He also fought to restore the rights of African American men to vote, which had been effectively taken away when the State of New York passed a law requiring them to be residents for at least 3 years and own at least $250 worth of property. While that effort failed, Thomas Downing continued to be a staunch abolitionist and advocate for African-American rights. 

Downing also continued to be a victim of the white supremacist system and society in this country. For example, in 1840, Downing refused to exit a white's only railroad car. The railroad agents forcibly removed Downing from the car, using considerable violence. According to court records from Downing's lawsuit against the agents, they "struck him under the ear, ..., beat and kicked him, broke his hat and forced him violently from the car." The jury, which was most likely comprised of all white people, found the agents "not guilty." 

The lesson is that there are ways for marginalized and suppressed peoples to find their independence, but the only true way for them to achieve equality with the oppressors is to change a system built upon white supremacy. Since Downing's death in 1866, our country made advancements toward that change, but the problematic system remains intact; and, in recent months, the white supremacists are now reasserting themselves. Our path forward remains unwritten. We can still work toward a diverse, equitable and inclusive society, or the current system, which primarily benefits one group of people, will remain in place. Only time will tell.... 

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.

Sos ti-Malice

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. 

SOS TI MALICE

Recipe from Kitchen Travels

Ingredients:

• 2 tablespoons oil
• 3 shallots thinly sliced
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 3 tablespoons tomato paste
• 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
• 1/2 green pepper sliced
• 2 Scotch Bonnet peppers, thinly sliced
• 3 cloves
• 1 tablespoon parsley, finely chopped
• 1 teaspoon salt

Ingredients:

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. 

PEACE.

Goi Ga (Vietnamese Chicken Salad)

 Ăn uống hài hoà 

(Eat and drink harmoniously)

Balance is important in every aspect of one's life, including what one cooks and eats. As I continue to explore the cuisines of cultures around the world, I have noticed a current that runs through the recipes and dishes of many cultures, including, by way of example, Vietnamese, Chinese, Thai, Indian and even Native American. It is balance. This balance may take many forms, such as a balance of ingredients or a balance of cooking methods. Nevertheless, it is still there. 

More recently, I found this balance in Goia Ga, a chicken salad that is commonly prepared in Vietnam. From what I could find, the salad originated in the north of the country. However, it is dish that is popular throughout Vietnam. Goi Ga is often served at home for family gatherings; but, people can also find the salad being served at festivals and even as street food. When one peruses the ingredient list, they will find a recipe for a light salad that incorporates chicken, fresh vegetables, fresh herbs and a dressing that features one of my favorite ingredients, fish sauce. 

Yet, there is something more fundamental about Goi Ga. It represents balance, or as the Vietnamese would describe it ngu hanh or ngu vi. I have previously explored the multiple levels of balance in Vietnamese cuisine. For example, there is the balance among the five tastes: spice, sour, bitter, salty and sweet. There is also a balance in texture: crispy crunchy, chewing, soft and silky. There are even further levels of balance, such as in cooking methods. 

Balancing ngu hanh or ngu vi on multiple levels can seem somewhat like a culinary game of 3-D chess. Goi Ga achieves that balance. The ingredient list illustrates the balance across all five tastes: peppers (spice), lime juice and vinegar (bitter), sugar (sweet), and fish sauce (sour and salty). It similarly shows a balance with respect to texture, with crispy elements (fried shallots), crunchy (peanuts), silky (olive oil), soft and chewy (chicken). 

Each bite of the Goi Ga brings with it a sense of harmony, and, along with that, a sense of happiness. This recipe is a call to be mindful of ingredients and how they interact. It is a mindfulness that I lack and have struggled to develop, especially given the lack of balance elsewhere in life, such as the work-life balance.  Still, If I can make this dish every once in a while, it will serve as a necessary reminder to take a moment and think more about what I prepare, eat and serve to others.

This may be the reason why I subconsciously keep coming back to dishes from Vietnam or elsewhere, such as China's Sichuan province. It is my own little nudge to find my some balance, even if it is only of the culinary kind. 

GOI GA (VIETNAMESE CHICKEN SALAD)

Recipe from Food & Wine

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 2 tablespoons sugar
• 2 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon fish sauce
• 1.5 tablespoons fresh lime juice, plus lime wedges for serving
• 1.5 tablespoons distilled white vinegar
• 1 tablespoon water
• 1 serrano chile with seeds, minced
• 1 small garlic clove, minced
• 1 cup vegetable oil for frying
• 2 large shallots, thinly sliced
• Kosher salt
• 4 cups green cabbage (from 1/2 small head), finely shredded
• 2 carrots, finely shredded 
• 1/2 small red onion, thinly sliced
• 1/4 cup coarsely chopped cilantro
• 1/4 cup coarsely chopped mint
• 3 cups chicken (from 1/2 chicken), shredded
• 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
• 3 tablespoons coarsely chopped unsalted roasted peanuts

Directions:

1. Prepare the dressing. In a small bowl, combine the sugar, fish sauce, lime juice, vinegar, water, chile and garlic. Stir until the sugar is dissolved. Let the dressing stand for 5 minutes.

2. Fry the Shallots. In a small saucepan, heat the vegetable oil until shimmering. Add the shallots and cook over heat heat, stirring constantly, until golden, 3 to 4 minutes. Drain the shallots on paper towels. Reserve the oil for another use. Sprinkle the shallots with salt and let cool.

3. Finish the dish. In a large bowl, toss the cabbage, carrots, red onion, cilantro, mint and shredded chicken. Add the olive oil and the dressing and toss. Sprinkle with the peanuts and fried shallots and serve the chicken salad with lime wedges.

PEACE.

Lunu Miris

I love the cuisine of Sri Lanka, which is known to curry almost everything. One particular aspect of this cuisine has really gotten my attention: the sambols. A sambol is a freshly made condiment or relish that typically incorporates chiles to add not just spice, but other flavors to whatever one is eating.

The history of sambols takes us to Indonesia, where they are referred to as sambals. Indonesians prepared these condiments using cabya, also known as the Javanese long pepper, which is native to the island of Java. The earliest references to cabya go back to the 10th century C.E. Although not technically a chile, the cabya provided a spicy element to the dishes prepared by Indonesian cooks. However, by the 16th century C.E., Spanish and Portuguese explorers and colonizers brought the traditional chiles from the new world to the Indonesian islands. Soon, cooks started using chiles over cabya. From there, the Dutch colonizers exported sambals to other countries, including Sri Lanka. 

Sambols (or sambals) have chiles as the central ingredient, around which a range of secondary ingredients are added. For example, pol sambol includes green chiles combined with coconut, shallots, Maldive fish chips, and lime juice. Dried shrimp sambol uses red chiles combined with dried shrimp (obviously), dried coconut, onions, garlic and lime juice.  

Lunu miris translates into onion chile. However, there are no onions in this recipe, but there are three different chiles: long red chiles, chile flakes and chile power, as well as freshly ground black pepper. I found this recipe in O Tama Carey's Lanka Food, which describes the sambol as more of a paste. When I prepared it, the final product was more like a salsa, but a very thick and extremely fiery one. Carey advises that this sambol is "[n]ot for the faint hearted." That is definitely an understatement. This recipe should only be prepared by people who order their food at the highest level of spice for those who ordinarily prepare it.

LUNU MIRIS

Recipe from O Tama Carey, Lanka Food, pg. 222

Serves 4-6

Ingredients:

• 7/8 ounces Maldive fish flakes
• 1/8 ounce chile flakes
• 1/8 ounce salt flakes
• 3 long red chiles, cut into thin rounds
• 2.5 ounces of shallots, finely sliced
• 1/8 ounce chile powder
• 1/10 ounces of freshly ground black pepper
• 2 limes juiced

Directions:

Using a mortar and pestle, or a food processor, pound (or process) the Maldive fish flakes, chile flakes and salt until the flakes are finely ground. Add the long red chiles and shallots and pound (or process) to a paste like consistence. It does not have to be super smooth. Mix through the pepper and chile powder and season to taste with lime juice. Service at room temperature. 

PEACE.

Pad Kaprow

My culinary journeys around the world have often led me to "national dishes." Generally speaking, these are meals that have a strong connection to a particular country. This connection may arise in one of several ways. It may involve an ingredient that is produced locally or prepared in way only done in that area. It may form part of a cultural tradition. Or, it may be actively promoted by a government as part of an effort to create a national identity. 

Take, for example, the country of Thailand. At one point in its history, roughly corresponding to the beginning of World War II, the military dictatorship of Thailand promoted a national Thai identity. Field Marshal Plaek Phibunsongkram issued twelve (12) cultural mandates from 1939 to 1941. Each mandate set forth objectives for the people. For instance, the third cultural mandate -- On referring to the Thai people -- prohibited Thais from referring to themselves inconsistently based upon preferred group, region or religion (for example, don't refer to oneself as a southern Muslim Thai). It also required the people to refer to themselves as the Thai people. The fifth mandate also had multiple requirements, including Thai people should make an effort to consume food made only from Thai products. Such an edict is often said to be the basis for some of Thailand's national dishes, such as Pad Thai and Pad Kaprow. 

Thai Basil

While Pad Thai is perhaps the most popular and well-known dish, Pad Kaprow comes in a close second. The name translates into basil stir fry. It is not just any basil, but Thai Basil (or Holy Basil) that makes this a Thai dish. 

The history of this dish is a little unclear. The main ingredient -- Thai Basil -- had been introduced into Thailand centuries ago (approximately around 2,450 B.C.E. or 2,500 B.C.E.). Yet, the dish of stir frying basil with chicken (or other protein), chiles and other ingredients goes back only a few or several decades. Indeed, I could not find anything in my research that would enable me to trace this dish back to the time when Field Marshal Phibunsongkram was issuing his edicts. Then again, while there are a lot of articles about the greatness of Pad Kaprow, few of those articles actually delve into how the dish came into existence or how it has evolved over the years. 

Nevertheless, the research does point out a couple of key things about Pad Kaprow. First, the dish represents a Thai version of the five tastes: salty, sweet, sour, hot (spice) and bitter. (I have talked about the five tastes before, check out this post and this post for more.) One Thai chef, Chakkrit Chuma, once said that Pad Kaprow or "Pad kaphrao has to be salty first, sweet after and then feeling hot and spicy in your mouth." Chef Chuma lamented that "sometimes people just make it too spicy and you don't taste anything else." (The Chef also acknowledges that he uses seven chiles in his recipe.)  Second, Pad Kaprow is flexible when it comes to the protein. It is most commonly made with chicken -- Pad Kaprow Gai -- but it can also be made with beef, pork, vegetables and seafood. For this dish, I made it with turkey, because that is the only meat that my beautiful Angel will eat. Also, while many recipes used ground meat, I used turkey thighs because I think that the bite-sized pieces are better. (Also, the use of ground meat reminds me too much of laab or larb, which is considered the national dish of neighboring Laos.) 

PAD KAPROW

Recipe from All Recipes

Serves 2

Ingredients:

• 1/3 cup chicken broth
• 1 tablespoon oyster sauce
• 1 tablespoon soy sauce, or more as needed
• 2 teaspoons fish sauce
• 1 teaspoon white sugar
• 1 teaspoon brown sugar
• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
• 1 pound boneless, skinless chicken thighs, chopped
• 1/4 cup shallots, sliced
• 4 garlic cloves, minced
• 2 tablespoons Thai chiles, minced or sliced
• 1 cup basil, thinly sliced
• 2 cups rice, cooked

Directions:

1. Prepare the broth. Whisk the chicken broth, oyster sauce, soy sauce, fish sauce, white sugar and brown sugar together until well blended. 

2. Sauté the chicken. Heat a large skillet over high heat. Drizzle in oil. Add chicken and stir fry until it loses its raw color, 2 to 3 minutes. Stir in shallots, garlic and chiles. Continue cooking on high heat until some of the juices start to caramelize in the bottom of the pan, about 2 to 3 more minutes. Add a tablespoon of the sauce mixture to the skillet; cook and stir until the sauce begins to caramelize, about 1 minute. 

3. Continue to cook the chicken. Pour in the rest of the sauce. Cook and stir until the sauce has deglazed the bottom of the pan. Continue to cook until the sauce glazes onto the meat, about 1 to 2 minutes more. Remove from heat. 

4. Finish the dish. Stir in basil. Cook and stir until the basil is wilted, about 20 seconds. Serve with rice. 

PEACE.

Goan Clam Curry

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

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

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

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

Source: Times of India

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

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

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

GOAN CLAM CURRY

Recipe adapted from My Heart Beets

Serves 4

Ingredients:

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

Directions:

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

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

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

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

ENJOY!

Ceylon Curry of Oysters

This recipe is a reminder that we have the British to blame for what is known as "curry." (I say that half-sarcastically, half-seriously.) The word "curry" is the anglicized version of kari, a word from the Tamil language for "sauce" or "relish for rice." The British used the word "curry" to describe basically every sauce and every relish for rice. They used the word not just for those dishes in India, but also for dishes made in a similar fashion across the British empire. 

The point is that, by lumping everything together as "curry," one takes away the individuality of the underlying dishes and the cuisines from which they originate. A "curry" from the subcontinent (such as from India or Sri Lanka) is different than a curry from Southeast Asia (such as from Thailand or Vietnam). Curries also differ significantly within countries, such as from Uttar Pradesh to Tamil Nadu in India or among the different ethnic minorities of Myanmar. 

Another aspect of westernization is apparent in the recipes themselves, in which the authors substitute more readily available ingredients for those used by the locals. This substitution was done perhaps out of necessity (as some ingredients were not available to western cooks) or a misunderstanding of the ingredients.

All of these thoughts are embodied in this recipe, Ceylon Curry of Oysters. The recipe originated with a person named Darmadasa, who worked at the East India Curry shop, which was located on East 57th Street in New York City. I used the past tense because both Darmadasa and the shop could be found on East 57th Street in the late 1930s, long before the emergence of Whole Foods, BLT Steak, or Mr. Chow. Darmadasa's recipe became public through a newspaper article written by Charlotte Hughes. Ms. Hughes declared that, "everybody in India, apparently, eats curry." She added that, while curries are difficult to make, "American cooks with pioneering spirits can master curry dishes." 

Hughes included some recipes with her article, including this oyster curry. Yet, as some have noted, her recipe had been Westernized, with substitutions of ingredients that would not have been used by Sri Lankan cooks. For instance, Hughes included "green pepper" in her recipe (most likely a reference to the bell pepper). However, the "green pepper" used by Sri Lankan cooks would have been more likely one of the more piquant varieties, such as a serrano pepper or a Thai (bird's eye) chile. She also called for the use of butter (in place of coconut oil), bay leaves (in place of curry leaves or pandan leaves) and "curry powder" (as opposed to identifying the various spices that would be included in making the masala).  

I made the Charlotte Hughes' Westernized version of Darmadasa's recipe. However, I added a few of my own changes to that recipe. The first change is a nod to the recipe's Sri Lankan roots. I substituted "curry powder" with roasted curry powder, which is, as far as I can tell, an ingredient that is unique to Sri Lankan curries. The second change goes to the method by which the oysters are "cooked" in the curry." The original recipe calls for the oysters to be placed in the curry and cooked for 3 to 4 minutes. That will cause the oysters to shrink and, depending upon the size of the oyster, may result in tough, chewy, little nuggets. I decided that I would add the oysters at the very end of the cooking process. By adding the oysters at this time, I rely upon the residual heat in the curry liquid. The oysters will not be completely raw, but they will also not be completely cooked. Such a result is fine given that oyster can be eaten raw.   

CEYLON CURRY OF OYSTERS

Recipe adapted from New York Times Cooking

Serves 2-3

Ingredients:

• 2 tablespoons butter or coconut oil
• 4 small shallots, finely chopped
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1/2 serrano chile or Thai chile, seeded and minced
• 1 tablespoon roasted curry powder
• 1 large pinch turmeric
• 1 cinnamon stick
• 3 cloves
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 cup coconut milk
• Salt
• 12 oysters, shucked, liquor reserved
• Juice of 1/2 lemon

Directions:

1.  Saute the shallots, garlic and chiles. In a medium saucepan over medium heat, melt the butter. Add the shallots, garlic and chiles, and saute until softened and starting to brown, about 2 to 3 minutes. Stir in the curry powder, turmeric, cinnamon stick, cloves and bay leaf. Cook for 1 minute. 

2. Saute the oysters. Reduce the heat to low and add the coconut milk and 1/2 teaspoon of salt. Simmer for 3 minutes. Add the oyster and their liquor; simmer until the oysters are just firm, 3 to 4 minutes. Take the pan off heat and add the lemon juice and salt to taste. Serve over rice or on hoppers.

Catfish Curry with Lemongrass and Chiles

It has been a very long time since I have made a "Chef Bolek Original." There are a few reasons. I have not had a lot of time to cook recently, so that limited the opportunities to get creative. When I have been cooking, I have been trying to learn how to make certain types of dishes, whether it is exploring the curries of the subcontinent or southeast Asia or experimenting with different whole fish recipes. 

Nevertheless, the cooking that I have done has left me with a lot of leftover ingredients, such as long lemongrass stems and more habaneros than I know what to do with. Rather than let those ingredients sit around until they are ready to be composted (which, unfortunately, happens from time to time because of my busy schedule), I decided that I would take the ingredients that I had and make a dish just off the top of my head. It is a slightly different method than how I used to make Chef Bolek original recipes. (The old way was for me to wander the aisles of grocery stores and try to get "inspired" to make something - a process that often resulted in a lot of leftover ingredients destined for the compost pile.)

I did have some inspiration this time around, which I drew from a catfish curry that I had previously made. The difference is in the principal ingredients for this curry, which were lemongrass stalks and those habanero peppers. I also had some extra shallots and scallions lying around, so I incorporated those into the recipe as well.  As for the main ingredient - the centerpiece if you will - I went with catfish nuggets. The pieces left over after the filleting of catfish. It only seemed appropriate that those scraps be used in a recipe where I was basically throwing the "kitchen sink" into the bowl. 

In the end, this curry was something completely different and delicious than what I have previously made. The lemongrass, accentuated by the garlic and the fish sauce, was front and center, distracting one from the kick of the habanero chiles. Perhaps the lesson from this dish is to change how I make Chef Bolek originals. Only time will tell. Until next time ...

CATFISH CURRY WITH LEMONGRASS AND CHILES

A Chef Bolek Original

Serves 2

Ingredients:

• 3/4 pound of catfish nuggets or catfish fillet
• 1 tablespoon of fresh lemongrass, peeled to soft core and chopped
• 2 cloves garlic
• 1 shallot, sliced
• 2 habanero chiles, deseeded and sliced
• 4 scallions, white parts only
• 2 tablespoons of ginger, peeled and chopped
• 2 tablespoons fish sauce
• 2 tablespoons rice vinegar
• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil or canola oil, plus one tablespoon
• 1 teaspoon turmeric powder
• 1 lime, juiced

Directions:

1. Prepare the marinade.  Add the lemongrass, garlic, shallot, habanero chiles, scallions, ginger, fish sauce, rice vinegar, turmeric powder and oil to a food process and process until you have a relatively smooth sauce. 

2. Marinate the catfish. Place the catfish in a bowl, add the marinade and mix thoroughly. Let rest for 15 to 20 minutes or cover and refrigerate for a couple of hours. When you are ready to cook make sure to bring out the catfish at least 15 minutes before you start so that it can come to room temperature.

3. Prepare the curry. Heat 1 tablespoon of oil in a pan over medium high heat. Add the catfish and saute for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. As you stir, break larger pieces of catfish into smaller ones and continue to stir so that all pieces are coated by the sauce. 

4. Finish the dish. Remove the catfish from the heat. Sprinkle the lime juice over the catfish. Plate some rice and put the catfish on top. Serve immediately.

ENJOY!