Crab and Crawfish Etouffee

"We have a common language with food."

-- Chef Leah Chase

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

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

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

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

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

CRAB AND CRAWFISH ETOUFFEE

Recipe adapted from Food & Wine

Serves 6-8

Ingredients:

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

Directions:

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

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

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

PEACE.

No Man's Land Seasoning

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

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

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

-- Louisiana's Final Frontier

Source: Explore Louisiana

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

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

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

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

 

NO MAN'S LAND SEASONING

Recipe adapted from Southern Living

Prepares 1/4 cup

Ingredients:

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

Directions:

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

PEACE.

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Seychelles

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MAIN COURSE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OCTOPUS CURRY

Recipe from Tourism Seychelles

Serves 4

Ingredients:

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

Directions:

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

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

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

SIDE DISH

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

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

SEYCHELLES CREOLE RICE

Recipe from Amy's Cooking Adventures

Serves 4

Ingredients:

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

Directions:

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

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

*          *          *

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

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

PEACE.

Chicken Savoy

Recently, I have joked with friends and colleagues that my personal cooking blog, Chef Bolek, has become the means through which I have applied my undergraduate degree in International Relations. My posts have explored a range of cuisines and dishes across the globe. At the same time, it seems that posts about American cuisine have become few and far between. 

This post brings me back to the United States, and, in particular, to the State of New Jersey. The town of Bellville, New Jersey to be exact. That is where one can find the Belmont Tavern, an Italian restaurant that became the home of a truly American dish ... Stretch's Chicken Savoy.

The story takes us back to 1967, when the owners of the tavern brought in Charles "Stretch" Verdicchio to work as the cook. Stretch introduced the owners and the customers to a dish consisting of a whole chicken broken down into its constituent parts, rubbed with a mixture of herbs and cheese, and baked in a very hot oven. The chicken is finished with a splash of red wine vinegar that, when cooked down, becomes a sauce that can be spooned over the finished dish. The dish became a regional hit in northern New Jersey.

The actual recipe for Chicken Savoy is a closely guarded secret within the Belmont Tavern, much like the recipe for Oysters Rockefeller is locked away at Antoine's in New Orleans. Yet, there are commonalities among the versions that have emerged at local Italian restaurants throughout northern New Jersey. All involve the use of whole chickens, broken down into their constituent parts. All involve the use of a mixture consisting of dried herbs (dried oregano and dried thyme), finely grated cheese (pecorino), garlic and olive oil. And, all of the recipes involve the use of red wine vinegar, which provides a tangy aroma and taste to the dish. 

This dish is very simple to make. The hardest part (to the extent any part of this recipe can be deemed difficult) is the breaking down the whole chicken. Yet, one could make this recipe buying a package of chicken breasts and chicken thighs, which saves time. That results in a recipe that could easily become a weekday meal for a very busy family with little time to do prep work. 

CHICKEN SAVOY

Recipe from Saveur

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 3-4 pound chicken, cut into 8 pieces
• 1/3 cup finely grated pecorino
• 1/4 cup olive oil divided
• 1 tablespoon dried oregano
• 1 teaspoon dried thyme
• 4 garlic cloves
• 1 cup red wine vinegar
• Kosher salt
• Freshly ground black pepper

Directions:

1. Prepare the chicken. Position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat to 500 degrees Fahrenheit. Season the chicken generously with salt and set aside. 

2. Prepare the paste. In a small food processor, or a mortar and pestle, blend the pecorino, 3 tablespoons of the oil, the oregano, thyme, and garlic to a paste. 

3.  Begin cooking the chicken. To a large skillet over medium-high heat, add the remaining tablespoon of oil. Add the chicken, skin-side down and cook until browned on one side, about 6 to 8 minutes. Turn the chicken, then use a spoon to smear the skin with the paste. Bake until brown and cooked through, about 20 to 25 minutes. 

4.   Finish the dish. To the hot pan, add the vinegar and spoon it over the chicken until reduced slightly, about 1 minute. Serve the chicken from the skillet or transfer to a platter. 

PEACE.

St. Helena Fish Cakes

If you find yourself in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean in the southern hemisphere, you may find yourself very far away and very close at the same time. You will most likely be far away from any significant land mass, as both South American and Africa are separated by thousands of miles of ocean. But, you may be very close to the island of St. Helena (and that is a big maybe).

St. Helena sits in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean in the Southern Hemisphere. It is over 1,200 miles from the African coast (where one would be standing in Namibia or Angola) and 2,500 miles from the South American coast (where one would be standing in Brazil). The island is figuratively and literally in the middle of nowhere. 

That isolation proved helpful when it came to banishing a certain Le Petit Caporal (i.e., Napoleon) in 1815 after he escaped his first imprisonment on the island of Elba. But, there have been people living on that ten mile by five mile long island since the late seventeenth century. Recent statistics place the number of people calling the island their home at over 4,400.  

Saints (source: St. Helena Info)

The people of St. Helena -- who refer to themselves as "Saints" -- descended from Europeans, who were mostly planters, government workers and ex-soldiers. Given St. Helena was part of the British empire, there are also people of Chinese ancestry, whose family members came to the island as workers, or of other Asian or African ancestry, whose family members were forcibly brought to the island as slaves. Together, the Saints have developed their own identity, culture and cuisine.

The cornerstone of Saint cuisine is the Fish Cake. Given St. Helena is an island surrounded by thousands of miles of ocean, one could expect that fish would have a prominent role in both the cuisine. The most prevalent fish in the Saint diet may well be yellowfin tuna. Saint cooks take fresh tuna, shred it down with a knife, and then prepare the fish cakes with mashed potatoes, onions, parsley, thyme and bacon. But, there is one ingredient that is just as important to the fish cake as the fish ... the chile. A Saint Fish Cake must have bite (that is, in the Saint vernacular, it must be spicy). Most recipes call for a "chile" or "chilli," but, depending upon the bite you are looking for, I would go with a jalapeno pepper (for less of a bite) or a serrano pepper (for more of a bite). If a serrano is not enough, there is alway the Scotch Bonnet or Habanero pepper.

In the end, the fish cake was very tasty, but I have to work on my preparation skills with this dish. I am used to making crabcakes, whose starch usually involves crackers. The use of mashed potato was part of the binding agent was new for me. I had some difficulty keeping the fish cakes together during the cooking process, but that can be improved when I make this dish again. 

Until then, I can just sit back and think about a short banished emperor sitting at a table on an island in the middle of nowhere. According to historical records, it took a while for Napoleon to get used to his new surroundings. Records published in 1824, which was after Napoleon's death in 1821, recounted that "fresh beef was so precious as to have occasioned restrictions upon its consumption." While fresh beef may have been hard to come by, one could picture Napoleon staring down at a table of full of fish cakes. And, thanks to artificial intelligence, we can now see a relatively close depiction of that fictional moment for ourselves. 

If you are as interested about St. Helena's island as I am, check out St. Helena Island Info at this website. 

ST. HELENA FISH CAKES

Recipe from Aberdeen News

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1/2 pound Russet potatoes, peeled, quartered
• 1/2 pound fresh tuna
• Mild oil, such as canola
• 1 small onion, finely chopped
• 1 small clove of garlic, finely chopped
• 1 slice bacon, diced
• 1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh parsley
• 1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh thyme
• 1 fresh serrano chile, finely chopped
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/4 teaspoon paprika
• 1/4 teaspoon cayenne
• 1 egg, lightly beaten
• 1 lemon, zested.

Directions:

1. Boil the potato. Settle potato chunks in a large pot of salted water. Bring to a boil; cook until tender (poke one with a skewer, it should be easy work), about 18 minutes. Press potatoes through a ricer into a large bowl or smash with a potato smasher. Let cool. 

2. Prepare the tuna.  Use a sharp, heavy knife to finely chop the tuna (a little coarser than ground beef.). Use a fork to gently mix into the cooled potato. 

3. Saute remaining ingredients (except egg and lemon zest). Pour 1 tablespoon of oil into a large skillet. Heat over medium. Scrape in onion, garlic, bacon, parsley, thyme, chile and spices. Cook, stirring, until everything looks brown and tasty, about 8 minutes. Scrape ono a plate to cool. Wipe out skillet. 

4. Prepare the fish cakes. Scrape the cooled onion mix onto the fish and potatoes. Pour in egg, scatter on zest. Mix gently. Shape 8 pucks about 3/4 inch thick and 2 1/2 inches in diameter. Fry pucks until brown, about 2 to 3 minutes per side. Drain on paper towels.

PEACE.

Poul Nan Sous

"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.

POUL NAN SOUS

Recipe from Food & Wine

Serves 4 to 6

Ingredients (for the marinade):

• 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.

PEACE. 

Sumac Navajo Leg of Lamb with Onion Sauce

As the Navajo (Dine) chef and author, Freddie Bitsoie recounts the Navajo story, "there was a thick fog for four days. No one could see their hand in front of their faces, and people were growing worried and scared. But, when the fog lifted, little cloud puffs were left behind: the sheep."

Sheep are not indigenous to the North American continent. The "fog" that brought the sheep there were Spanish conquistadors and colonizers. The person credited with bringing sheep to the area where the Navajo lived is Don Juan Onate, a conquistador who would later become governor of Santa Fe de Nuevo Mexico. He brought 2,900 hundred sheep with him and Spanish settlers, who continued to raise those sheep on ranches throughout the province. Apart from bringing sheep to the region, Onate is known for his massacre of indigenous people of the Acoma Pueblo. 

Onate embodies the reason why the Navajo were worried and scared of that fog of colonization (as history has shown, see books like Sundberg, Dinetah and Denetdale, The Long Walk). When the fog lifted, the Navajo found themselves on a reservation that spans an area larger than West Virginia. That reservation covers a hot, arid region that crosses over the political boundaries that separate Arizona, Utah, and New Mexico 

Nevertheless, the Navajo accepted in those "little cloud puffs." The Navajo Churro sheep are descendants from the original stock brought to the new world by the Spanish. The Navajo obtained the sheep from the Spanish, whether by trade with the Spanish or raids on their settlements.  The Navajo had great success in raising these sheep, which grew in numbers until they were more than 574,000 in the 1930s. 

Navajo Churro Sheep (Source: Nikyle Begay)

However, the drought conditions at the time led the United States to engage in a forced reduction. The reduction resulted in a loss of about 30% of a household's livestock, including sheep, cattle and horses. For the Navajo, the forced reduction was as painful as the Long Walk. The stocks of Navajo Churro continued to decrease until the point that they faced extinction. Efforts were made to revive the numbers of sheep, which have been largely successful. 

Although not an animal native to North America, the Navajo Churro has nevertheless assumed an important place within Navajo culture. The stocks may have declined, but Navajo have continued to raise the sheep throughout the years. They have also used the wool, spinning it and dyeing it to produce fibers that make their way into clothing, blankets, rugs and decorative arts. 

In addition to the wool, the Navajo have used the meat of the lamb and sheep in various dishes. Recipes have been developed over generations, and indeed centuries, that feature this protein. One common recipe is Navajo Lamb Stew. This recipe combines mutton with carrots, onions, potatoes and cabbage for a dish that is ideal on cool to cold nights.

Another recipe is this Sumac Navajo Leg of Lamb with Onion Sauce. The recipe is an inspiration of Chef Bitsoie, drawing from his memory of his grandfather, who would roast lamb over a fire and then serve it with a sauce made out of chopped onion. His grandfather did not necessarily use sumac, but Chef Bitsoie thought that the flavor of the sumac worked well with the lamb. (He is correct.)  He used juniper berries and rosemary in the onion sauce because he believed that his grandfather would have foraged those ingredients while he was herding the cattle and sheep in the mountains. 

The use of sumac drew my attention to this recipe. It pairs a non-indigenous protein with a very indigenous little sumac berry. There are 14 species of sumac that grow only in North America. The range of these species runs from southern Quebec across to southern British Columbia, and then south to northern Florida and across to northern Arizona. 

The sumac berry is known for providing a lemony element to dishes, which was part of the overall balance to this dish. The slightly bitter, lemon flavor brought by the sumac berry complements not only the rich taste from the leg of lamb, but also the sweetness of the onion sauce. That balance makes this dish one of the best leg of lamb dishes that I have made in a very long time. 

SUMAC NAVAJO LEG OF LAMB

Recipe adapted from Washington Post

Serves 6-8

Ingredients (for the lamb):

•  One three pound leg of lamb or tied lamb roast
• 1 teaspoon fine salt
• 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1/3 cup (1 1/2 ounces) ground sumac
• 3 tablespoons canola oil

Ingredients (for the onion sauce):

• 2 tablespoons canola oil
• 1 large yellow onion, halved and thinly sliced
• 2 sprigs fresh thyme
• 1 spring fresh rosemary
• 5 dried huniper berries
• 1 teaspoon fine salt
• 1 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
• Water, as needed
• 2 cups chicken stock

Directions:

1. Prepare the lamb: Heat the oven or a grill to 375 degrees (or heat a smoker to about 275 degrees, and smoke some oak or mesquite wood chunks for about 1 hour). Season the lamb on all sides with salt and pepper, then coat the lamb on all sides with the sumac.

2. Brown the lamb: If you are going to roast the lamb, heat the oil in an ovenproof skillet over high heat, heat the oil until it shimmers. Add the meat and sear on all sides until evenly browned, about 8 minutes. If the lamb is going on the grill or into a smoker, then skip this step. 

3. Roast/Grill/Smoke the lamb. Transfer to the oven to roast for about 40 minutes or until a thermometer inserted into the center reaches 145 degrees for medium-rare. Depending upon the size of the lamb roast, it may take longer to reach that temperature. If using a grill or smoker, place the lamb on the grill and cover. Grill or smoke the lamb until it reaches 145 degrees.

4. Prepare the onion sauce. While the lamb is roasting/grilling/smoking, in a medium saute pan over high heat, heat the oil until it shimmers. Add the onion, thyme, rosemary, juniper berries, salt and pepper. Lower heat to medium and cook, stirring often until the onions are soft and brown, about 20 minutes. If the onions begin to stick,  or darken in any places, stir in a splash of water and adjust theheat. Once browned, add the stock and simmer until the liquid is reduced by half, about 10 minutes. Remove from the heat and discard the herb stems and juniper berries.

5. Finish the dish. When the lamb is done, remove it from the oven and let it rest on a cutting board for 10 minutes before slicing. Serve warm, with the onion sauce on the side. 

ENJOY!

Garlic and Lavender Rubbed Leg of Lamb

Since I started cooking as a hobby, I have become more and more interested in what are known as "foodways." Generally, a "foodway" is the eating habits and culinary practices of a people, region or historical period. Some of the most interesting perspectives - at least in my humble opinion - come from a viewpoint of a people in a region over a period of time (that is, essentially combining all three components of a foodway). There many different foodways, but, one in particular grabbed ahold of my attention and pushed me to learn more. It is the African-American foodway. 

The eating habits and culinary practices of African-Americans was undeniably "molded in the crucible of enslavement." Africans were uprooted from their homes and forcibly brought to the New World. Yet, they did not leave everything behind. As is well documented in the works of culinary historicans and authors, such as Jessica B. Harris and Michael W. Twitty, they brought some of those habits and practices with them. Africans were then forced to adjust under circumstances marked by deprivation and dehumanization. Nevertheless, enslaved Africans were able to develop their own foods, cooking practices, and cuisine. Put differently, in the words of Randy Fertel of the Fertel Foundation, they were "making a way of no way and taking advantage of disadvantages." 

I came across an article on Epicurious by Gabrielle Carter, who is a cultural preservationist who uses food to reimagine, among other things, marginalized food systems. She wrote about what she would serve at a dinner party after emerging from the COVID pandemic. The centerpiece of that dinner was a roasted leg of lamb. The recipe comes from Jessica B. Harris, and it includes what Carter describes as a "fragrant paste of garlic, lavender and other herbs." 

Apart from the connection to my exploration of African-American foodways, it was this paste that also caught my attention. I have been wanting to make a dish that incorporated lavender. During the COVID pandemic, my family took a camping trip in rural Maryland. As we made our way back home, we stopped at a local lavender farm. I had purchased some "culinary lavender" to use in recipes, but I did not have any such recipes at the time. When I came across the recipe from Jessica Harris, which was introduced to me by the article written by Gabrielle Harris, I knew that I had to make this leg of lamb. 

While I have used lavender in recipes in the past, I think this recipe represents the first time that I used the ingredient successfully in a recipe. The aroma and the flavor of the lavender was just right, present enough to know that it was there, but not to overpowering or offsetting to throw off either the smell or the taste of the roasted lamb.

GARLIC AND LAVENDER RUBBED LEG OF LAMB

Recipe by Jessica B. Harris, available on Epicurious

Serves Several

Ingredients:

• 1 leg half bone-in leg of lamb (4 to 5 pounds)
• 6 large garlic cloves
• 1 1/2 teaspoons dried lavender flowers
• 1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves
• 1 1/2 tablespoons finely ground sea salt
• 2 tablespoons mixed peppercorns
• 1 tablespoon dried rosemary
• 1 tablespoon herbes de Provence

Directions:

1. Prepare the leg of lamb. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees Fahrenheit.  If the butcher has not already removed the fell (parchment like membrane) from the lamb leg, trim it away along with the excess fat.  Using the tip of a sharp knife, make 15 or so small incisions in the leg, spacing them evenly. 

2. Prepare the rub. Place the garlic, lavender and thyme in a small food processor and pulse until you have a thick paste.  Poke a bit of the paste into each of the incisions in the lamb. Place the salt, peppercorns, dried rosemary and herbes de Provence in a spice grinder and pulse until you have a coarse mix.  Rub the mix all over the lamb, covering it evenly. Place the lamb on a rack in a roasting pan.

3. Roast the lamb. Roast the lamb for 15 minutes. Lower the heat to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and continue to roast for about 1 hour or until a thermometer inserted into the thickest part away from the bone registers 130 degrees Fahrenheit for rare, or 140 to 145 degrees Fahrenheit for medium rare.  Remove the lamb from the oven and let it rest for 15 minutes before carving. 

4. Finish the dish. Carve the lamb parallel to the bone in long thin slices and arrange the slices on the platter. Transfer the warm sauce to a sauceboat and serve immediately. 

ENJOY!

Brown Lentil Seraz

I have previously posted about the history of the Chagos Islands, as well as the Chagossian people (also known as the Ilois).  They lived on the islands in the middle of the Indian Ocean for centuries. They developed their own language, music, traditions and, yes, they even created their own cuisine. 

Still, life on those small islands was hard, especially those who worked on the coconut plantations.  Workers labored for food, rum and housing.  None of the  Chagossians owned their homes.  They lived in company housing. And. as far back as 1883, it was one company that owned all of the land.  It was a French-backed, Mauritian company known as Societe Huilere de Diego et Peros. That company continued to operate the plantations until 1962, when it sold everything to a Seychellois company, Chagos-Agalega Company.  The new owners began to bring in contract employees to work the plantations, which started an exodus of Chagossians from their home islands. Within two years, nearly eighty percent of the islands' populations were Seychellois.

Meanwhile, world events soon changed everything.  The United States (U.S.) and the United Kingdom (U.K.) decide that, because of the Cold War, they needed a base in the Indian Ocean. The U.S. did not have any territorial possessions; however, its partner had a bunch of islands dotting the ocean. All eyes turned to the Chagos Islands.  The U.K. established the British Indian Ocean Territory on November 8, 1965, which basically consisted of the Chagos Islands. The British then purchased all of the land from Chagos-Agalega Company, and, leased it back to the company to continue operating the coconut plantations.  The company continued to do so until 1967.

That was the same year that the U.S. and the U.K. entered into a formal agreement to establish a military base on Diego Garcia, the largest of the Chagos Islands.  Not only did the two allies decide to build that base, but they decided to expel all of the inhabitants of the Chagos Islands.  That decision was embodied in what is known as BIOT Ordinance Number Two. The decision was wrapped in overtly racist tones.  The British Colonial Office head, Dennis Greenhill wrote the following to the British delegation at the United Nations: 

The object of the exercise is to get some rocks which will remain ours, there will be no indigenous population except seagulls who have yet got a committee (the status of women committee does not cover the rights of birds).  Unfortunately, along with the Birds, go some few Tarzans or Men Friday whose origins are obscure, and who are being hopefully wished on to Mauritius etc.

Thus, a white imperialist power made the decision to evict men and women of brown and black skin color from the islands where they (and many of their ancestors) lived so that there could be a military base from which the pre-eminent democracies could fight communism around the world. 

Yet, these democracies were keen on ensuring that those principles did get in the way of their military plans. In another correspondence from the British Colonial Office, 

The Colonial Office is at present considering the line to be taken in dealing with the existing inhabitants of the British Indian Ocean Territory (BIOT). They wish to avoid the phrase "permanent inhabitants" in relation to any of the islands of the territory because to recognise that there are any permanent inhabitants will imply that there is a population whose democratic rights will have to be safeguarded and which will therefore be deemed by the UN to come within its purlieu. The solution proposed is to issue them with documents making it clear that they are belongers to Mauritius and the Seychelles and only temporary residents of the BIOT. This device, although rather transparent, would at least give us a defensible position to take up at the UN.

It was a position the British took and, by 1973, all of the inhabitants of the BIOT (that is, those who lived on the Chagos Islands) had been relocated to Mauritius, the Seychelles and elsewhere.

For decades thereafter, the injustice remained.  It is estimated that nearly 426 Ilois familes, consisting of more than 1,000 people, had left the islands between 1965 and 1973.  That number is now more than 4,000 when taking into account their descendants.  

With any injustice, there is the fight to end it.  The fight in this case led to a decision of the British High Court ruling that the Ilois had a right to return to the Chagos Islands. The wheels of justice grind slowly and, sometimes, in reverse. The U.K. appealed the ruling and, when it could not get it overturned, the government went to the House of Lords, which overturned the High Court's ruling and which reinstated the ban on anyone returning to the Islands. 

The fight continues to the present day because no one has been allowed to return.

Despite the struggle, the Chagossian people have maintained their identity, their culture and their food.  I have previously made Serrage Poulet (Chicken in Coconut Milk), a main dish of the Chagossian people.  At the time, I wanted to find a side dish that the island's inhabitants could have served with this chicken dish.  

The side dish is Brown Lentil Seraz. I could find very little about the provenance of this dish, but, it is appears to be based upon a rougaille, which is a tomato-based dish from Mauritius. A rougaille is basically a combination of spices with those tomatoes to make a sauce.  This dish seemed appropriate given the close history of the Chagos Islands and Mauritius (which were governed together by the British empire for decades), as well as the fact that many Chagossians were forced to leave their homes for Mauritius. Given the foregoing, the ingredients, cooking techniques and, indeed, entire dishes from Mauritian cuisine would have made their way into Chagossian cuisine over time.

The particular spice mix for this rougaille is rather simple, beginning with onions, garlic and ginger, along with the use of bay leaves and fresh thyme. Once the base is prepared, then one can add protein. While they were living on the islands, they may have used chicken, fish, or even lentils, which Chagossians cultivated on the islands.

While I am not the biggest fan of lentils, I have to say that this dish turned out better than I expected.  My previous experience with lentils has been in the context of Indian cuisine, which usually involves the use of more substantive spice mixtures.  However, I had to keep reminding myself that the richness of ingredients that may be found on the subcontinent was most likely not present in the Chagos Islands.  The islanders had to make the best of what they had.  With that perspective, this recipe hits the mark.  

 BROWN LENTIL SERAZ

Recipe from Travel by Stove

Serves 4-6

Ingredients:

• 1 pound of brown lentils
• 2 tablespoons cooking oil
• 1 large onion sliced
• 4 cloves garlic, crushed
• 1 teaspoon ginger, finely diced
• 3 large tomatoes, diced
• 1 spring fresh thyme, crumbled
• 3 bay leaves
• Salt to taste

Directions:

1.  Cook the base.  Cook the onions in hot oil until they are soft, then add the ginger and garlic and keep cooking for one or two minutes.  Add the tomatoes, thyme and bay leaves and continue to cook, stirring, until the tomatoes are soft.

2. Add the lentils.  Add the lentils and enough water to cover.  Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and cover.  Simmer for one hour to one and one half hours, topping up with water as necessary.  The finished dish should be more of a thick stew than a soup.  Add salt to taste. 

One final note, an option is to add coconut milk to the seraz.  The author who provided this recipe declined to do so given the amount of coconut milk used to make the Serrage Poulet.  I also decided that it was a good idea to leave the coconut milk out of the recipe.  

ENJOY!

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Spain

As I continue with my Around the World in 80 Dishes personal culinary challenge, I have found that there often is a challenge within a challenge. Take, for example, a country like India. It is a country with thirty-six (36) states and union territories, such as Bihar in the north and Kerala in the south.  There are seemingly as many different cuisines within India as there are states and territories. The question becomes, how to choose a main course when there are so many cuisines to choose from. Admittedly, this challenge within a challenge did not present any troubles in the past. I would simply choose a dish, such as Rogan Josh in the case of India, and make it. 

With my most recent challenge, which involves the country of Spain, I decided to take a different approach.  Spain has seventeen (17) different regions, from the Azores to the Balearic Islands with many regions in between, like Galicia, Castille, Catalonia and Andalucia. Each of those regions has its own cuisine, based upon local ingredients, local cooking techniques and time-honored dishes. So exactly how do I choose a main dish?

After much thought, I decided to do something truly random.  I chose a random address in Spain.  That address would put me in a region from which I would make the main course. I turned to the Internet, which has plenty of various random address generators.  I selected one and out popped an address.  That address was located in Seville, a city in the region of Andalusia.

The random address put me in a small alley just a block or so away from the Maestranza. The best description is a picture: 

That's right, a bull fighting arena. The Real Maestranza de Caballeria de Sevilla is a 350 year old bullfighting ring that seats 12,000 people. Although construction began in 1749, the Maestranza was not fully completed until 1881. It is still in use today, with bullfighting matches taking place from March through September. However, it is the matches that take place during the Feria Abril de Sevilla or the Seville Fair that attract the most attention.

Yet, this post is not about bullfighting, it is about cooking and food. And, perhaps Andalusia is perhaps the perfect place for this culinary challenge.  The history of the region's cuisine can be traced back to at least 1100 B.C., when the Phoenicians established Cadiz. The Phoenicians brought grape vines and olive trees.  The Phoenicians were followed by the Carthaginians, the Romans, the Visigoths, and, then, the Moors. 

The Moorish rule brought many things to Andalucia, such as irrigation systems, which provided the foundation for large farms and the production of cash crops.  The Moors also brought with them a variety of foods such as oranges, lemons, eggplants, almonds, dates, peaches, apricots, rice, and coffee.  They also brought sugar and spices, such as black pepper, cumin and saffron.

By 1492, the Moors had been pushed out of the Iberian peninsula. That was also the year that Christopher Columbus set sail to the west. The "age of discovery" or the "age of exploration" (both phrases I find to be completely misleading, as the areas that were "discovered" or "explored" had already been found by their original inhabitants) led to even more foods being introduced to the cuisine of Andalucia and other Spanish regions. These include peppers, yams, tomatoes, potatoes, sweet potatoes, and avocados. These ingredients worked their way into the cuisine of the region, creating the foundation for the wide array of dishes that may find their way to the Andalusian table.

SOUP/SALAD

There is an Andalusian saying, "Del gazpacho no hey empachno." It translates as, "you do not get an upset stomach from gazpacho." There is some truth to that saying.  I have made gazpacho many times, and, I have always enjoyed this dish. But, I wanted to learn a little more about its history. 

The central ingredient in modern day gazpacho is the tomato. Yet, tomatoes did not make their way into Spanish cuisine until at least the 16th century. So, does that mean that gazpacho only goes back to the 1500s? The answer to that question is in the negative. The soup - or is it a salad (that's another debate) - actually dates back to at least the time of the Romans. It originated as a soup made with bread, olive oil, vinegar, water, garlic, and salt. It is believed that the dish traveled with Romans as they made their way to the Iberian peninsula. The dish became a staple of the region in Andalucia, especially among the poor. It was not until the 1800s that tomatoes were incorporated into the dish, creating the base of the soup - or salad - that we know today.

The key to a great gazpacho is the tomatoes. They should be fresh, ripe and off the vine. In fact, all of the vegetables that go into the dish - including the cucumber, green pepper, and garlic - should be as fresh and ripe as possible.  By contrast, it is okay if the bread has gone a little stale. While some recipes call for the use of bread, others will suggest that the bread be left out overnight. Personally, I am not sure that it matters much for the soup (or salad), given it is blended and then strained. But, cutting the stale bread into small croutons (or toasting fresh bread), does a lot when it comes to serving the dish.  

Speaking of service, gazpacho should be served with accompaniments, like those croutons.  While croutons are a traditional accompaniment, so are tropezones or chopped vegetables. These include tomatoes, bell peppers, onions and cucumbers. There may be others, such as ham and egg.  Each one of the accompaniments should be served in separate bowls.  The guest is provided with the bowl of gazpacho and then he or she can decide which accompaniments - and how much - to add to the soup (or salad). 

Finally, as to that debate about soup or salad, I have always thought of gazpacho as a soup.  It is after all a liquid with additional ingredients added to it. However, most Spanish cookbooks refer to gazpacho as a salad or liquid salad. This fact, which I did not know before undertaking this challenge, may require me to reassess my thoughts about what exactly is gazpacho.

GAZPACHO ANALUZ

Recipe from Culinaria Spain, pg. 422-23

Serves 4

Ingredients (for the Gazpacho):

• 2-3 slices of white bread
• 1 pound of ripe tomatoes, skinned, seeded and diced
• 1 cucumber, peeled seeded and diced
• 1 green bell pepper, seeded and diced
• 3-4 cloves of garlic, peeled and diced
• 1/2 cup of olive oil
• Salt
• 2-3 tablespoons of wine vinegar or sherry vinegar 

Ingredients (for the Garnish):

• Cubes of white bread
• Small cubes of tomato
• Bell pepper, diced up small
• Diced onion
• Cubes of ham
• Hard-boiled egg, diced up small

Directions:

1. Prepare the soup. Roughly break up the white bread, and pour some water over, then leave to soak for at least 30 minutes.  Put the tomatoes, cucumber, bell pepper and garlic in a blender, then add the bread and finally the oil.  Puree the entire mixture.  Add enough water as necessary to give the soup the required consistency. 

2. Continue preparing the soup. If necessary, pass the soup through a fine sieve.  Season with salt and vinegar.  Place the gazpacho in the refrigerator for a minimum of 1 hour. 

3. Finish the dish. Serve it very cold with separate bowls of white bread cubes, small pieces of bell pepper, diced onion, cubes of ham and diced had cooked eggs, which each person mixes into their soup themselves.

MAIN COURSE

For the main challenge, I was perusing Andalusian recipes when I came across a recipe for Pato a la Jerezana or Jerez-style duck.  This recipe is quintessentially Andalusian based on the "Jerez," or use of sherry in the dish.  The region is known for its production of sherry, which is a fortified wine made from Palomino grapes. The wine is aged using the solera method, which is also use for port or balsamic vinegar.  The method requires the use of as little as three or as many as nine barrels.  One barrel is filled with the sherry, and, over time, some of that sherry is moved to the next barrel, a process known as running the scales. Only the sherry in the last barrel is bottled and sold.  

This recipe presented an actual challenge for me.  I had to break down a whole duck into its constituent parts (wings, legs, breast and thighs).  I have broken down whole chickens, and, I assumed that the process would be the same.  The process was very similar, except in one respect.  As I was removing the legs, I was looking for the thighs. I separated the leg at the joint, but I could not see much of any thigh. (By the way, ducks are harder to disjoint than chickens.) I went back over what I did and proceeded to the next leg.  I removed it at the joint, but, once again, not much in the way of any thigh meat.  I thought I did something wrong, until I realized something.  Duck legs are shorter than chicken legs, and, as a result, ducks have smaller thighs. This is the reason for duck confit, which is basically the leg and the thigh.  

Once I butchered the duck, pretty much in every sense of the word, I proceeded to making the dish. The recipe is fairly straightforward for a braise: brown the meat, remove, add the vegetables, then some liquid and return the meat back for a period of time.  The time period for the braise - 45 minutes - seemed rather short; but, with the duck broken down into pieces, I assumed that would account for that timeframe. 

Once it was done, the dish was very good and rich. The combination of the rendered duck fat and the bacon made the resulting sauce very fatty (which was probably intended by the recipe's authors and Andalucian cooks).  As I look back on the dish, I probably could have used a separator to remove much of the fattiness, and then returned the liquid to a pot to cook and and become more concentrated. These ideas went beyond the recipe and are good notes for the next time when I try to make this dish.  However, for now, I think that I have completed the challenge!

PATO A LA JEREZANA (JEREZ STYLE DUCK)

Recipe from Culinaria Spain, pg. 422-23

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 duck, weighing about 4.5 pounds
• Salt
• 4 tablespoons of olive oil
• 5.5 ounces of streaky bacon cut into strips
• 2 onions diced
• 2 cloves of garlic diced
• 2 carrots, sliced
• 2 ripe tomatoes, skinned and cubed
• 7 ounces of pitted green olives
• 1 cup of stock
• 1 bouquet garni (parsley, thyme, oregano, bay leaf)
• Pepper
• 1/2 cup sherry
• 2 cloves
  

Directions:

1.    Prepare the duck. Wash the duck and pat dry.  Cut into equal sized portions.  Rub thoroughly all over with salt and pepper.  Heat the olive oil in a braising pan and brown the duck portions on all sides until nicely golden brown.  Remove the portions and set them aside.

2.  Continue preparing the dish. Fry the bacon, onions and garlic in the oil until translucent. Add the carrots and fry briefly.  Stir in the tomatoes and the olives, and then pour in the stock. Add the bouquet garni and cloves.  Bring to a boil and at that point, return the duck to the pan.  Braise, covered for approximately, 45 minutes.  About 5 minutes before the end of the cooking time, stir in the sherry and season the sauce with salt and pepper to taste. 

*    *    *

In the end, I think I can say that I have successfully completed another personal culinary challenge.  The Jerez-style duck was very good. The dish combined culinary elements of Andalucia - from the olives to the sherry - to prepare a dish that utilizes a not so common protein (namely, duck).  While I think that I did a good job with respect to the main course, the true star of this challenge was the gazpacho. The soup - or salad - had the brightness of vegetables, the tartness of the sherry vinegar, and even the garlic. The accompaniments, which went beyond the typical tropezones, also helped contribute to the dish.  

More importantly, I have now completed 40 challenges, which means I am half way through my personal culinary challenge to cook dishes from around the world.  It took over 10 years to reach this point; and, I am hoping that it won't take another ten to finish the journey. I have several challenges in the works, which you can see on my Around the World in 80 Dishes page. Having reached this milestone, I am going to use that momentum to complete more challenges in a timely fashion.  Until next time,

ENJOY!