Poulet Basquaise

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

-- Anthony Bourdain

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

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

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

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

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

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

POULET BASQUAISE

Recipe from Food & Wine

Serves 4

Ingredients:

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

Directions:

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

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

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

PEACE.

Grilled Octopus, Roasted Salsa Verde, Tomato Piquillo

For the past several years, my work would take me to Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Most of those trips involved a stay at the Hilton Fort Lauderdale Beach Resort. Each stay inevitably included at least one lunch and/or dinner at a restaurant within the hotel. The restaurant is Sun Surf Sand or S3. 

I spent each occasion sitting at a table on the outside patio of the restaurant, staring at the Atlantic Ocean whose waves rose up to the beach across the street. I rarely spent much time looking at the menu, because I always knew what I wanted. It was an octopus dish, prepared with a salsa verde and a tomato piquillo. 

During my last trip to Fort Lauderdale, I probably ate that dish three times over the course of two weeks. It is perhaps the best dish on the restaurant's menu and it was always something that I looked forward to when I was in town. A plate of nice sized octopus pieces and large beans, brought together with the salsa verde and highlighted with the tomatoes and leafy greens. 

When I returned home, I decided that I would try to prepare this dish myself. I purchased some pre-cooked octopus tentacles (which makes preparation of this dish really easy), and all of the other ingredients. While I could try to prepare the dish as I remembered it at S3, I decided to do things a little differently. First, I decide that I would grill the octopus tentacles. That would provide a slight crunch that could contrast with the beans and the tomatoes. I also decided to prepare a roasted salsa verde. This required a quick roasting of the tomatillos, chile and garlic before blending them together with the cilantro to create the sauce. 

In the end, I am glad I made this dish. It made for a delicious, light lunch. Given how easy it is to make, it will be made again and again in the future. 

GRILLED OCTOPUS, ROASTED SALSA VERDE, TOMATO PIQUILLO

A Chef Bolek Original

Serves 4

Ingredients (for the octopus):

• 1 pound octopus tentacles
• Olive oil
• 1 can of gigante beans or butter beans
• Handful of micro-greens 

Ingredients (for the sala verde):

• 1 pound tomatillos, husked and rinsed
• 1/4 cup fresh cilantro, minced
• 1 garlic clove, peeled
• 1 serrano or jalapeno pepper, stem removed
• Sea salt

Ingredients (for the Tomato Piquillo):

• 1 cup grape tomatoes
• 1/4 piquillo pepper

Directions:

1. Complete initial preparation. Rinse the beans under cold water and set aside. Rinse the microgreens under cold water, set aside. 

2. Prepare the salsa verde. Spread tomatillos out on a baking pan. Roast tomatillos about four inches under the broiler for about 6 minutes until they start to brown on one side. Flip the tomatillos and continue to roast them for another 6 minutes. Remove the tomatillos and set aside to cool. Once they are cool, add the tomatillos to a blender wtih the cilantro, chile, and garlic. Blend until you reach your desired consistency, season with sea salt.

3. Prepare the tomato piquillo. Finely dice and mash the piquillo pepper into a paste. Add the tomatoes to a bowl and then the pepper paste. Combine until the tomatoes are covered and season with a little salt. 

4. Grill the octopus. Heat a grill over medium high heat. Brush the octopus legs with olive oil. Grill the legs, about 3-4 minutes per side, until the legs are charred. Remove from the grill. 

5. Finish the dish.  Portion out the beans on four plates or dishes. Slice the octopus tentacles in relatively even pieces, and portion them to each plate or dish. Drizzle the roasted salsa verde over the octopus and beans. Garnish with the tomatoes and microgreens. 

PEACE.

Taglio di Costata di Manzo

The Tuscans have marked their place in Italian cuisine and have done so in many ways. However, one truly unique way in which they have done so surrounds a particular type of cattle. It is the large, white Chianina. This particular animal served important functions, both in the Tuscan economy and society. For centuries, Chianina cattle provided the means of power in agriculture (until replaced by mechanized means). Twice a year, every year, Chianina cattle pull the Carroccio, the cart that carries the banner for the Palio, the horse race that takes place in the center of Siena.

The meat produced by the Chianina is prized and even has its own special designation, IGP Vitellone Bianco dell'appenino Centrale. That meat features prominently in the most Tuscan of dishes: Bistecca Fiorentina. That dish features a porterhouse steak, whose thickness cannot be less than two human fingers in measurement, that is grilled simply with salt until it is a bloody rare. If you cook it beyond rare, you will offend every Tuscan everywhere.

Yet, Tuscans use Chianina beef to prepare other dishes, like Tagliata di Manzo. That dish often uses an entrecote or strip steak cut in its preparation. Tuscans like that preparation to be rare as well, but Tagliata does not have the same place in the heart -- or cuisine -- as Bistecca Fiorentina. I say that to say that there may be some room for forgiveness if the Tagliata comes out medium rare, instead of rare.

I decided to prepare a rib roast in the fashion of a Tagliata, which gave me some more leeway to work with this rather large piece of meat. I prepared a rub using garlic, salt, pepper and fresh rosemary. I then prepared the roast like I would for any prime rib. (If it had been a little warmer outside, I may have tried to grill it to bring the dish closer to a Tagliata at least with respect to preparation.) Still, a couple of hours at 350 degrees Fahrenheit ("F") got me to where I needed to be: around 125 degrees F internal temperature. 

There is something about Tuscan preparations of meat that lift them above many other meat-centric cuisines. For years, I have been preparing turkeys in the style of Tuscan pork roasts (arista-style). Now, I may simply use the Tuscan Tagliata style for all of my beef recipes, especially prime rib roasts. There will always be one exception: Bistecca alla Fiorentina, which can only be prepared one way. 

TAGLIO DI COSTATA DI MANZO

Recipe adapted from several sources

Serves at least 6

Ingredients:

• One prime rib roast with 2-3 ribs, about 5-6 pounds
• 16 ounces of arugula
• 1 tablespoon of lemon juice
• Kosher salt
• Rosemary, chopped 
• 3 cloves of garlic, minced
• 6 tablespoons freshly ground black pepper
• 1 pint of grape tomatoes, halved
• Olive oil
• Parmigiano Reggiano or other hard cheese

Directions:

1.    Prepare the rib roast. Lightly brush the roast with olive oil. Season the roast on all sides with first with the minced garlic, then the salt and pepper and finally with the rosemary. Place the roast in a roasting pan and let the roast stand for 30 minutes at room temperature.

2. Cook the roast. Heat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Place the roast in the oven and cook for approximately 1 3/4 to 2 1/4 hours, until the internal temperature of the roast reaches at least 125 degrees Fahrenheit. Remove the roast from the oven, cover loosely with foil and it rest for 30 minutes. The internal temperature should rise to 130 to 135 degrees Fahrenheit, which would be medium rare. 

3. Prepare the arugula. Place the arugula in a bowl. Dress the arugula with a drizzle of olive oil and the lemon juice.

4. Slice the roast. Slice the roast to remove the bones by placing the roast on its side and cutting along the bones at the bottom of the roast. Cut between the bones and set aside. Place the roast upright and slice at the desired thickness.

5.    Finish the dish. Place a slice of roast on the plate, add a handful of arugula salad, and garnish the salad with tomatoes and thin slices of Parmigiana Reggiano.

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.

Ciambotta

I spent a fair amount of time planning the Savage Boleks' Christmas Eve dinner. The centerpiece of the dinner would be an Arista-Style Turkey with Tuscan Chestnut Stuffing. That recipe has become my signature dish; and I was looking for regional Italian dishes that could complement the meal. The focus was more on vegetable dishes, because I needed vegetables to balance the protein and the starch from the main course. 

As I was perusing a wide range of Italian dishes, I got to thinking about ratatouille.  That dish serves as an excellent example of la cuisine pauvre. It emerged during the 18th century, when peasants and poor farmers in Provence would cook what was left of their summer vegetable harvest for hours until they produced a chunky stew. Indeed, the name, ratatouille, comes from the Occitain word, ratatolha, which basically means chunky stew. Over time, the dish became popular among restaurants, first in cities like Nice and then across France and beyond. 

While I could make a ratatouille as a side dish for our meal, I began to wonder if there was an Italian version of the dish. Sure enough, the Italians have ciambotta. The dish parallels ratatouille on many levels. Just as ratatouille emerged as poor person's cuisine in the south of France, ciambotta similarly emerged among the peasants and poor farmers of Italy's southern regions. While its exact origins are unknown (unlike ratatouille, which emerged from area around Nice in Provence), much of the literature traces the dish to the region of Campania, where it goes by many different names, such as ciauliello in the town of Cilento, ciaurella in Sapri, ciamardola in Torre Orsaia, or, once again, ciambotta in places such as Campora, Roscigno, and Bellosguardo.

As one would expect with a dish that goes by many names, there can be many different variations of the dish. Yet, all of the variations are tied together by some fundamental basics. Every dish uses seasonal fruits -- like tomatoes, eggplants and peppers -- as well as the remainder of the summer vegetable harvest, such as squash, potatoes, and more. Basic fruits and vegetables because, regardless of the city in which it is prepared, it is a a subsistence dish. 

I found an excellent recipe for ciambotta from The Forked Spoon. This recipe not only drew its inspiration from southern Italian cooking, but it also incorporated some of the keys to making a good ratatouille. These keys include using equal proportions of bright, colorful vegetables and cooking those vegetables separately. This recipe incorporates a fair amount of the rainbow when it comes to (fruits and) vegetables: bright red tomatoes;  red/orange/yellow bell peppers; yellow squash; green zucchini and dark eggplant. Ciambotta also uses a "pesto" of fresh basil, oregano and garlic, along with some crushed red pepper if you like some heat, to help further brighten the dish. 

CIAMBOTTA

Recipe from The Forked Spoon

Serves 8

Ingredients (for the herb pesto):

• 1/2 cup fresh basil, packed
• 1/3 cup fresh oregano leaves
• 8 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional)

Ingredients (for the ciambotta):

• 1 large eggplant, chopped into 1/2 inch pieces
• Salt
• 1/4 cup olive oil, divided
• 2 medium onions, chopped
• 3 tablespoons tomato paste
• 2 large russet potatoes, peeled and chopped into 1/2 inch pieces
• 2.5 cups water
• 1 can whole peeled tomatoes, with juice (tomatoes roughly chopped)
• 2 large fresh tomatoes, chopped
• 2 large zucchini, seeded and chopped
• 1 yellow squash, seeded and chopped
• 2 bell peppers (yellow, red or orange), stemmed, seeded and diced

Directions:

1. Make the herb pesto. Add the basil, oregano, garlic, olive oil and red pepper flakes to a small food processor and blend until finely processed, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed. Set aside. 

2. Prepare the eggplant. Transfer the eggplant pieces to a large bowl. Sprinkle with 1-2 teaspoons of salt and transfer to a large plate lined with paper towels. Microwave, uncovered for 5-8 minutes or until the eggplant is dry to the touch and starting to shrivel. 

3.  Prepare the onions, potatoes and eggplant. Heat a large Dutch oven or pot over medium heat. Add 2 tablespoons of olive oil and onions to the pot, mixing well to combine.  Add the potatoes and eggplant and cook, stirring frequently, for 4-6 minutes, or until the onions are softened and the surface of the potatoes are translucent (they will not be fully cooked. 

4. Add the tomatoes.  Push the potatoes and onions to the side of the pot. Add the tomato paste and 1 tablespoon of olive oil to the other side. Cook the tomato paste, whisking continuously, until a brown fond forms on the bottom of the pot. This will take approximately 2 minutes. Still stirring, add the water scaping the brown bits from the bottom of the pot. Add the canned tomatoes with their juice and the fresh chopped tomatoes. Mix well and bring to a boil. 

5. Simmer. Reduce heat and bring to a simmer. Cook until the potatoes are tender and soft and the eggplant is broken down, approximately 25 minutes. 

6. Prepare the zucchini and pepper. While the stew is simmering, add the remaining tablespoon of olive oil to a large skillet over high heat. Allow the skillet to get really hot before adding the zucchini, yellow squash and bell pepper. Sprinkle with salt and cook, stirring occasionally, until just softening. 

7. Add the herb pesto. Create a well in the middle of the zucchini and bell pepper. Add the herb pesto and cook until fragrant before stirring to combine with the zucchini and bell peppers. Remove from the heat. 

8. Finish the dish. Once the potatoes are soft, add the zucchini and bell pepper mixture to the pot. Remove from the heat and mix well to combine. Cover and allow flavors to combine for at least 10 minutes before serving. Serve with freshly toasted bread. 

PEACE.

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Colombia

"In Colombian cuisine, every dish tells a story."

-- Harry Sasson (Colombian chef)

This part of my journey around the world in eighty (80) dishes takes me to the South American country of Colombia. The above quote from one of the most famous Colombian chefs, Harry Sasson, represents my starting point. It is an acknowledgement that, in Colombia, cuisine represents more than just food on a plate. Instead, to borrow someone else's words, it is "a narrative of tradition, culture and love passed down the generations." I can't believe a better way to start a culinary adventure.

This personal culinary challenge presents an opportunity to learn about some of those stories. The thing is, there are a lot of them to tell. Colombia is in many ways a "melting pot," in which many cultures -- both indigenous and non-indigenous -- have flourished in a range of environments, from the coastlines of the Caribbean Sea and the Pacific Ocean to the heights of the Andes Mountains and back down into the marshlands of the Orinoquia region or the forests of the Amazon. This wide range of people and places gives rise to an equally diverse set of cuisines.

For some background, Colombia is generally divided into six regions. Those regions are Caribe, Pacifico, Andres, Orinoquia, Amazonia, and Insular. The map to the right shows each of those regions. 

At first, I wanted to tell the stories of the indigenous people of Colombia, such as the Guambiano and Muisca peoples. That would take me to the Andes region of Colombia. Thoughts of stories about corn, potatoes, quinoa and beans started running through my mind. I have to admit that I encountered some difficulty in finding indigenous recipes that I could use to prepare the dishes. 

Given this difficulty, I decided to shift my focus from inland to the coastal regions. I decided to research and learn about both of Colombia's coastal regions: Caribe and Pacifico. (Perhaps also the Insular region, which happens to consist of islands in both the Caribbean Sea and the Pacific Ocean.) So, basically, this post will try to tell Colombian stories around seafood. 

APPETIZER

I decided to start with perhaps one of the lesser told stories of Colombia. It's neighbors, Ecuador and Peru, are well known for their tuna fisheries. Indeed, one city in Ecuador -- Manta -- boasts of the name, Tuna Capital of the World, because it has some of the highest tuna landings of any port on the Pacific Ocean. Much of the catch is yellowfin or skipjack tuna, with some bluefin tuna. Yet, Ecuador shares the Pacific coastline with Colombia. The thing is that Colombia's fishery is far less developed than its neighbors. For one thing, there are far less ports, and even less ports of substantial size, along the Pacific Coastline in Colombia. 

Yet, the waters boast of one of the more notable fish migrations: millions of sardines make a journey down the Pacific coastline from Panama south along Colombia.  As one would expect, that sizeable migration would attract the attention of others, namely predators. One of those predators happens to be the yellowfin tuna. The yellowfin provide a sustainable fishery for Colombians. As Matt Harris described the experience, being on the waters off of Colombia looking to fish yellowfin tuna: 

We scanned the water expectantly, rods at the ready and line stripped on the deck. Just as Jose predicted, we didn't have to wait long. Suddenly they were all around. Yellowfin. Everywhere. The feeding activity was astonishing. Everywhere we looked there were myriad busts as if dozens of hand-grenades were being thrown around the boat. The water was literally churning with activity, as hundreds of tuna fizzed through the waves like supercharged torpedoes, slicing through the bait-ball in a frenetic blizzard of mayhem and slaughter.

I strongly recommend reading the entire article, which was published in the magazine In the Loop, and which was very interesting. 

This story provides the opening to my first dish, an appetizer that features yellowfin tuna. The method of preparation is not so much Colombian, but it definitely draws its inspiration from the cuisine. The dish is Tomates Rellenos de Atun, or Stuffed Tomatoes with Tuna. 

TOMATES RELLENOS DE ATUN

Recipe from My Colombian Recipes

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1-2 cans (6 ounces of tuna)
• 1/8 cup chopped onion (red or yellow)
• 1/8 cup chopped red bell pepper
• 1/8 teaspoon salt
• 1/8 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 tablespoon lime juice
• 1/4 cup mayonnaise
• 1/2 cup mixed corn, diced carrots, peas
• 1 tablespoon chopped parsley, plus more for garnish
• 4 medium sized tomatoes, cored and seeded
• Lettuce leaves, for serving (optional)

Directions:

1. Prepare the filling. In a medium bowl, combine all of the ingredients, except the tomatoes and lettuce. Cover and chill for 1 hour.

2. Finish the dish. To serve, line a large plate with lettuce leaves, spoon tuna salad into tomatoes and garnish with chopped parsley. Arrange the tomatoes on top of the lettuce leaves and serve. 

MAIN COURSE

While I could have stayed along the Pacifico region of Colombia for my culinary challenge, I decided to "travel" to the other coastline, along the Caribbean Sea. This coastline is dotted with port cities like Cartagena, Barranquilla, and Santa Marta. The challenge requires me to prepare Cazuela de Mariscos, a dish with perhaps a few stories. One of them would take me across the ocean to Spain, where seafood stews abound in a country with 3,084 miles (4,964 kilometers) or coastline. By contrast, Colombia has only 1,800 miles (2,900 kilometers). 

However, I want to stay in Colombia, so I look for stories in places like Cartagena or Santa Marta. In the latter city, there is a place where people talk about some of the best seafood stews or casseroles around.  It is Plaza San Francisco. Vendors sell the stews in pots. But, the story actually begins early in the morning, when they gather the ingredients together at their homes, prepare the dish, and cook it over a wood fire. When the stew or casserole is ready, then they head to the plaza to sell their food to locals and tourists alike. 

A cazuela de mariscos is prepared with seafood that is local to the area, although that typically includes clams, shrimp and white fish. The recipe typically calls for the use of coconut milk and, in some cases, heavy cream. I decided to skip on the heavy cream for health reasons, but I saw that other recipes incorporated seafood stock and/or water. So, I used some of the stock from steaming the clams, along with some water. 

CAZUELA DE MARISCOS

Recipe adapated from My Colombian Recipes and Travel Food Atlas

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 tablespoon butter
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1/2 cup chopped green pepper
• 1/2 cup chopped red bell pepper
• 1 cup chopped onion
• 2 fresh garlic cloves minced
• 1 cup grated carrot
• 1/2 teaspoon paprika
• 1 can (13.5 ounces) coconut milk
• 1/2 cup white wine
• 4 cups heavy cream (I substituted clam stock and water)
• 2 pounds of jumbo shrimp, peeled and deveined
• 12 littleneck clams, scrubbed
• 2 pounds white fish, cut into 1 inch pieces
• 1 tablespoon fresh parsley or cilantro
• 1 tablespoon tomato paste

Directions:

1. Sauté the vegetables. In a large saucepan over medium heat, warm the olive oil and butter. Add the garlic, red pepper, garlic, green pepper and carrots and sauté, until tender and translucent, about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add salt and pepper

2. Continue to prepare the stew. Add the cream and coconut milk. Bring to a boil. Add the seafood and cover, reduce the heat and cook about 2 minutes until the clams open. Remove from the heat, discard any open shells. 

3. Finish the dish. Add the wine and tomato paste, simmer for about 20 minutes. Garnish with fresh cilantro or parsley. 

*    *    *

It has definitely been a while since I did my last personal culinary challenge (which was The Gambia). This particular challenge went well; but more importantly, as much as I enjoyed preparing this meal, I also enjoyed researching the cuisine of Colombia. I think that I will be paying future "visits" to this country, so that I can try to prepare foods from other regions, like the Andes and the Amazon. Until then ...

PEACE.

Chef Bolek's Picanha with Chancho en Piedra

My love for churrasco -- that is, beef grilled over an open fire -- often leads me to places like Fogo de Chao or Texas de Brazil. It also leads me to seek out smaller, family owned churrascarias or other Brazilian and Argentinian restaurants. Those dining experiences, especially the ones at the large chain restaurants, often involve one server after another carrying a skewer of grilled meat.  There is the server with costela (or beef ribs), followed by the server with beef ancho (or ribeye), the server with fraldinha (bottom sirloin), the server with alcantra (top sirloin), and then the server with filet mignon. However, there is always one server that I try to find in the restaurant ... the person with the picanha or what is also referred to as the sirloin cap or cullote. 

However, my efforts to find picanha outside of a national chain restaurant, or even a smaller family-run restaurant, had encountered some difficulty. This particular cut is not one that is typically stocked on the shelves of a supermarket. One has to dig a little deeper and work a little harder to find it. This work necessarily involves identifying a trusted butcher. Fortunately, for me, there is one -- Chop Shop Butchery -- which I highly recommend. A simple question - do you have picanha - led to the purchase of a very nice cut of meat. 

That cut is identifiable by the strip of fat along the top, which, when grilled properly, helps to baste and  flavor the meat. The story of picanha can be traced back to the Bixziga neighborhood of Sao Paulo, Brazil during the 1950s. The cut did not make its way onto a menu until Dinhos offered a roasted picanha. The cut took off in Brazil and eventually made its way (along with Brazilian immigrants) to Portugal and then to the United States. 

The preparation of picanha is rather simple: flaky sea salt is really all that is needed before cooking the meat. The meat is roasted on a spit in Brazil or grilled in Argentina, and, either way, it can be cut into smaller pieces or the whole cut could simply be roasted. Given it was my first time, and recognizing that I probably did not have the right skewers to spit roast the meat, I decided to roast the whole cut. I seasoned the cut with sea salt, but I also used some merken especial, a chile rub used by the Mapuche, to provide a smoky kick to the meat. I grilled it to 135 degrees, well short of the 145 degrees for medium rare, given the shape of the cut. This approach ensured that the narrower edge of the cut would not be overcooked. 

My version of Chancho en Piedra

Finally, when one serves picanha or any grilled meat as part of a churrasco, it is accompanied by a chimichurri sauce.  I have made many a chimichurri sauce in my time. There are a few recipes on this blog, like this one and these two. So, I can say that a chimichurri is my own go-to sauce for grilled or roasted meats. However, for this occasion, I wanted to do something different. 

My search led me to pebre, which is a Chilean condiment made with cilantro, olive oil, onion, garlic and chiles. If one adds freshly chopped tomatoes to their pebre, it becomes chancho en piedra (which translates to "pig on a rock"). This salsa-like side is traditionally prepared using a molcajete or a mortar and pestle to create a consistency that looks more like a sauce. However, I have seen versions where the chancho en piedra has more texture, akin to a chunky-like salsa. I generally prefer the latter when it comes to salsa, so I opted with that approach. I also substituted one of the green chiles for 1/2 tablespoon of merken especial to tie the side with the grilled meat. These modifications resulted in a side that seemed, in my humble opinion, was a better accompaniment for slices of grilled picanha. 

CHEF BOLEK'S PICANHA WITH CHANCHO EN PIEDRA

Picanha recipe adapted from Barbecue Bible

Chancho en Piedra receipt from Food Comas

Serves several

Ingredients (for the picanha):

• 2 pound slab of picanha (top sirloin) with 1/2 inch of fat on top
• Merken especial
• Coarse salt (sea or kosher)

Ingredients (for the Chancho en Piedra)

• 1 bunch cilantro, finely chopped
• 1 medium onion, finely diced
• 2 green chiles, seeded and finely diced or 1 tablespoon Merken
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• Salt to taste
• Pepper to taste
• 1 tablespoon white vinegar
• 1 tomato, peeled and finely diced
• 1/2 lemon, juiced

Directions:

1. Prepare the Chancho en Piedra. In a bowl, add the oil, garlic, onion, coriander, tomatoes, chiles (or merken) and veingar. Add the salt and pepper to taste. If necessary, add a tablespoon of olive oil. Set aside.

2. Prepare the picanha and the grill. Cut the picanha crosswise (across the grain) into slices that are 1.5 inches thick. Dust the picanha with merken on all sides. Set aside while you set up the grill for direct grilling. Heat the grill to high. Brush and oil the grill grate.

3. Grill the picanha. Arrange the meat pices fat side down on the grill. Direct grill until fat is partially rendered, crisp, and brown, 2 to 4 minutes. Turn each piece of meat on its side and grill until brown, about 2 minutes per side. Grill the bottom the same way. You are looking for medium rare. An instant read thermometer inserted into the narrow end to the center of the meat should read about 125 to 135 degrees Fahrenheit.

4. Finish the dish. Transfer the picanha to a cutting board, fat side up and let rest for a couple of minutes. Carve it into thin slices across the grain, including a bit of fat and a bit of meat in each slice. Serve with the Chancho en Piedra.

P.S. While writing this post, I discovered that there is also Chancho en Piedra, the Chilean experimental, funk band. Their music is actually pretty catchy. My only regret - apart from not being able to speak Spanish - is that I did not learn about this band earlier. I could have played the music in the background while preparing chancho en piedra, the sauce.

PEACE.

Rohingya Tomato Soup

While much of the world (including myself) focuses its attention on the Middle East, there are atrocities that continue to unfold around the world. One such atrocity marked its seventh anniversary: Myanmar's ethnic cleansing of the Rohingya in the Rakhine state. 

Seven years have led to between 750,000 and 1.1 million Rohingyans being forced to flee Myanmar for neighboring Bangladesh. Most of the Rohingyans who fled to Bangladesh have found themselves in Cox Bazar, a district where there are thirty-three refugee camps that, combined, house over 930,000 Rohingyans as of July 2023. 

The camps are overcrowded, many of which exceed the guidelines established by the United Nations Human Rights Commission ("UNHCR"). For example, the UNHCR standards provide that the number of people per latrine should be 4-6 and, in emergency situations, up to 20 per latrine. Six of the refugee camps are at 30 people or more per latrine and one is as high as 54 people per latrine. The UNHCR standard also provide that the number of people per water supply should be 1 water supply for every 80 people. Nine of refugee camps exceed that standard, with one of them -- the Nayapara Refugee Camp -- having a water supply for every 1,931 people. Add in the lack of educational and employment opportunities generally in the refugee camps, and, the situation is very bad and getting worse for the Rohingyan refugees.

Rohingyan refugee camp in Cox Bazar (Source: Danish Refugee Council)

Life for Rohingyans who remain in Myanmar is also getting worse. Approximately 636,000 Rohingyans remain in Myanmar, where they are subjected to an apartheid legal system that refuses to recognize them as an ethnic minority (even though Myanmar recognizes 135 other minority ethnic groups). To make matters even worse, those Rohingyan remaining in the Rakhine State are caught between a military conflict between the Myanmar army and the Arakan Army, a nationalist military organization. The situation continues to worsen and little is seen or heard as it is drowned out by events elsewhere in the world.

To be sure, I have spent quite a bit of time in recent months focusing on Palestinian culture and cuisine. However, I have talking about the plight of the Rohingyan people for years. I have previously focused upon the Rohingyans, their culture and cuisine, along with their plight. My prior posts can be found here and here. 

Rohingyan family (Source: CORE)

I return my focus to the cuisine of the Rohingyan with this recipe for a Tomato Soup. This recipe is not just any soup. It is a window that reveals a common bond shared between the Rohingyan people and many other groups of people from Pakistan to Thailand (and beyond). That window can be found in the combination of three ingredients: ginger, garlic and turmeric. Together those three ingredients are the base of a curry. And not just any curry. They are the fundamental building blocks of the original curries that emerged from the Indus river valley more than four thousand years ago. That historical curry is the foundation of curries across the subcontinent and into southeastern Asia. 

This connection proves a basic truth: despite an organized, governmental effort by Myanmar to strip the dignity and humanity from the Rohingyan people (by refusing to recognize their ethnicity and declaring them a stateless group), the Rohingyans have a common bond with the other peoples. This bond extends to the other ethnic groups across Myanmar. This tomato soup shares similarities with other curry dishes prepared in Myanmar, such as those who live in the Shan Hills. But the bond extends far beyond the borders of Myanmar, across not only the subcontinent and southeast Asia, but across the world.

ROHINGYA TOMATO SOUP

Recipe from SBS Food

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
• 1 large onion, thinly sliced
• 12 garlic cloves, finely chopped
• 40 grams ginger, grated
• 1 tablespoon ginger powder
• 1 tablespoon ground turmeric
• 2 tablespoons ground coriander
• 4 large tomatoes, roughly chopped
• 1 liter of water
• Salt, to taste

Directions:

1.    Saute the vegetables. Heat the oil in a large, heavy-based frying pan over medium heat. Add the onion, garlic and ginger and stir for 5-6 minutes until softened. Add the spices and stir until fragrant. 

2.    Add the tomatoes and water. Add the chopped tomatoes, water and season with salt. Bring to a boil, then simmer for 7-10 minutes until slightly thickened. 

3.     Finish the dish. Serve scattered with chopped green chiles and coriander (cilantro), with lime wedges and steamed rice on the side. 

PEACE.

Lahmajoun (Lahmacun/Lahmajo)

This post has been a long time coming. The spark of inspiration goes back years, perhaps more than a decade. I was sitting at home watching Anthony Bourdain eating with someone at a small restaurant in Turkey, most likely Istanbul. He and his guest were eating a flatbread that had a layer of minced lamb and vegetables. Tony identified the flatbread as "lahmacun." Ever since that day, I have wanted to make that flatbread. However, a lot of days went by. Then the years passed. I still wanted to make this recipe, but I made a lot of  other ones instead (as this blog will attest). 

Perhaps the one obstacle in my mind was making the dough. Sure, I make pasta, but I don't really do a lot of baking or working with dough. Thoughts of how long it would take to make the dough, or what would happen if I screwed up the dough, became difficult to overcome. However, I recently decided that, on some time off from work, I would take the time to make the dough. Then other obstacles got in the way. It seemed that more days, weeks and years would go by without me making this flatbread. That was, until I had a batch of thawed pizza dough in front of me. That batch served as the springboard with which I would finally make lahmacun.

Or is it lahmajoun or lahmajo? There is a serious debate in which these two words -- lahmacun and lahmajo -- are at the very heart.  The debate asks the question of where did this flatbread originate? Was it Turkey, where it is referred to as lahmacun? Or, was it Armenia, where it is referred to as lahmajoun.

As it turns out, the answer requires some explanation. The original name derives from Armenian, in which lahmajo means "meat with dough." One account traces the dish back to the city of Aleppo, Syria, where Armenian merchants settled from areas such as Aintab, Urha and Cilicia. The Armenian community in Aleppo began preparing the dish, and local cooks offered it to customers as "lahmajoun." The dish became very popular throughout Syria and Lebanon (where it is called lahm bi ajin), as well as in Turkey, where it took on the name lahmacun. 

Of course, those in Turkey disagree with the above account. The Turkish version traces the flatbread's origin to the southern Turkish cities of Urfa and Gaziantep. (It should be noted that there were significant communities of Armenians who lived in both cities until the end of the nineteenth century.)

Setting aside the dispute over its origin, I decided to make the recipe for myself. The batch of pizza dough made the preparation of this dish a lot easier for me. I could just focus on preparing the spread. I relied upon a recipe from the World Central Kitchen cookbook, which came from a Lebanese chef (which, for this reason, I will refer to it as lahmajoun). I made only one change to the filling. Instead of using a mixture of half beef and half lamb, I decided to use all lamb. There were two reasons. First, I think lamb is more traditional (although there could be some debate about that). Second, ground lamb comes in one-pound packages and I did not want to have to buy a separate package of ground beef. 

In the end, I think that this was a very good first effort at making lahmajoun. I think when I return to this recipe, I will try some of the regional variations, as well as incorporate other ingredients. Hopefully, it won't take a decade for that to happen.

LAHMAJOUN (LAHMACUN/LAHMAJO)

Recipe adapted from Jose Andres, World Central Kitchen Cookbook, page 85

Serves 4-6

Ingredients (for the topping):

• 1 batch store-bought, fresh pizza dough
• 16 ounces ground lamb
• 1 tablespoon tomato paste
• 1 tablespoon ground allspice
• 1 tablespoon kosher salt
• 1 1/2 teaspoons Armenian red pepper paste or finely chopped roasted red peppers
• 1 2/3 teaspoon sweet paprika
• 1 pound plum tomatoes diced
• 1 medium red onion, chopped
• 1 small red bell pepper, chopped
• 1/2 cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
• 1 medium garlic clove

Directions:

1. Make the topping. In a medium bowl, combine the beef, lamb, tomato paste, allspice, salt, red pepper paste, and paprika. Gently mix in the diced tomatoes, onions, bell peppers, parsley and garlic until well distributed - avoid overmixing. 

2. Prepare the oven. Heat the oven to the highest temperature, preferably with a pizza stone or foil lined sheet pan inside. 

3. Prepare the flatbread. On a lightly floured surface, divide the dough into 12 pieces (to do this, cut the ball of dough in half, then half again, then divide each quarter into 3 pieces). Roll each piece into a round about 8 inches in diameter and about 1/8 inch thick. Put 3 to 4 tablespoons of filling in the center of the round and use a spoon to spread it out nearly to the edge, leaving 1/4 to 1/2 inch border all around. 

4. Bake the flatbread. Depending on the size of the stone or baking sheet, bake the lahmajoun in batches until they start to brown but the dough is still soft enough to fold over - the meat layer will be completely cooked by the time the dough is done. There are no rules for the time and temperature. The hotter the oven and stone, the shorter the baking time and the tastier the lahmajoun. In a home oven that can reach 500 degrees Fahrenheit, it should take 6 to 8 minutes. While the flatbread is baking, you can grill long pieces of eggplant over an open flame until smoky, and season with sea salt.

5. Finish the dish. Serve warm. Lahmajoun are served folded over, sometimes with a squeeze of lemon, a yogurt dip or the traditional Armenian Ayran yogurt.  

PEACE.

Espetada

It has been referred to as "meat on a stick, the Madeira way." The word in question, Espetada, actually refers to the cooking method. The method basically involves skewing food on sticks and cooking it over charcoal. However, on the Portuguese archipelago of Madeira, the Espetada rises to a completely different level.

Madeira consists of four groups of islands: Madeira, Porto Santo, Desertas and Salvagens. Only Madeira and Porto Santo are populated, Desertas and Salvagens are both set aside as nature reserves. Yet, it is Madeira that is the most popular, mostly due to its long history of wine making. (Or, if you watched the recent Star Wars series, Acolyte, the beautiful landscape, as scenes were filmed at Fanal Forest and the parishes of Canical and Ribeira de Janela.) While Madeira may have some very beautiful scenery, it is the wine that has in many ways defined the islands, and certainly defines its espetada.

The history of Madeira wine dates back to the 15th century (before that, Madeira was principally known for sugar, as well as all of the negative things that came with it at the time, like slavery and plantations). Madeira wine is a fortified wine, which means that - much like Port - it is fortified with neutral grape spirits. The wine tends toward the sweet side, and often is served with desserts. 

For espetada, it serves as the liquid for the marinade. The marinade itself is fairly simple: adding crushed bay leaves (or laurel leaves), black pepper and garlic. After the meat marinates for at least four hours, one would skewer it and whatever else you want to add -- such as tomatoes, bell peppers, or chorizo -- to long laurel skewers. Those skewers then get placed over hot coals, which would be traditionally produced using grape wood. I didn't have laurel skewers on hand, so traditional metal skewers are just fine, as is using a gas grill if that is all you have ready to go. 

One last thing about the Madeiran version of espetada: it is traditionally made with beef, along with bell pepper and tomatoes. However, beef could be substituted with chicken or pork, as well as seafood like shrimp or squid. (Obviously, cooking times will then vary.) 

ESPETADA

Recipe from Curious Cuisiniere

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 1/2 pounds beef sirloin, cubed into 2 inch chunks
• 6 garlic cloves, minced
• 12 bay leaves, crumbled
• 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 1/4 cup Madeira wine
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 3 Roma tomatoes, halved
• 2 green peppers, halved and seeded
• 2 teaspoons salt

Directions:

1. Marinate the meat. In a small bowl, mix together minced garlic, crushed bay leaves, and black pepper.  Rub the beef chunks with the mixture and place them in a flat baking dish or ziploc bag.  In another small bow, mix together the Madeira wine and olive oil. Pour the wine mixture over the beef cubes, making sure that they are well coated.  Refrigerate the beef for at least 4 hours or overnight. 

2. Prepare the skewers. Preheat the grill to medium high heat. Place the beef chunks on soaked, sturdy wooden skewers (or metal skewers) interspersed with tomato and green pepper halves. Sprinkle the beef and vegetables with salt. 

3. Grill the skewers. Grill the meat for 3-5 minutes. Flip the skewers and grill for an additional 3-5 minutes, until the beef is just starting to become firm.  Remove the skewers from the grill to a platter. Cover the skewers with aluminum foil and let them stand for 10 minutes before serving.

4. Finish the dish. Serve the skewers on a bed of crusty bread, drizzled with any juices that pooled in the platter as they rested. 

PEACE.

Tomato, Garlic and Sumac Salad

This post, and its recipe, have their purposes. I have devoted my personal culinary blog to exploring the cuisines and cultures from around the world. I often find myself conflicted in writing posts about food and recipes, especially when the people about whom I am writing face deprivation and starvation. That has certainly been the case when I prepare Palestinian recipes and write about their cuisine. Indeed, as of December 2023, the 2.3 million Palestinians living in Gaza constituted eighty percent (80%) of the the people in the world who were experiencing famine or extreme hunger. How can I write about Palestinian cuisine and food when millions have been relegated to eating not only canned food, but expired canned food?

The answer is two-fold: first, to honor the culture and dignity of Palestinians who live in Gaza and the West Bank; and, second, to protest the reasons why Palestinians are being forcibly starved. Those are the purposes of this post: namely, to take what is a very simple recipe to prepare and use it to protest against the governments and militaries that are waging campaigns that use deprivation and starvation as critical components of their strategies. 

I have previously posted about the Palestinians, their culture and cuisine. I started with Zibdiyet Gambari, a spicy shrimp dish that came with a focus on the ties between Gazans, fishing and the sea.  I turned inland to make Gazan Dagga, a salsa that combines chiles with dill and that included a discussion of the ties between Gazans and their land, especially when it came to agriculture. I concluded with Qidreh, an amazing lamb and rice dish that accompanied a discussion of the assault upon the Palestinian people and their culture.  

All of those posts were my reaction to the inhuman, unethical and immoral campaign being waged by the far-right government of Israel against the Palestinian people. I had seen and heard too many people talk about how Hamas uses innocent civilians as human shields. That is a war crime. But I also saw and heard how the Israeli defense forces and the Israeli government - under the leadership of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, Defense Minister Yoav Gallant and National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir - simply directed their campaign at and through those human shields, rather than trying to wage their war against Hamas in a way that minimized the impact upon innocent Palestinian civilians. I firmly believe that those government officials should be indicted, hauled to The Hague, and stand trial for violations of international law. 

To make matters worse, famine has both short term and long term consequences. Some of those long term consequences can impact future generations of Gazans. Study after study has shown that famine can cause increased risk of hyperglycemia (a condition most commonly associated with diabetes) not only in the current generation, but also the next generation. That next generation has a greater risk of developing diabetes, obesity and cardiovascular issues. Thus, in a real sense, Israel's use of starvation in its war against Hamas targets not only innocent Palestinians currently living in Gaza, but future generations of Palestinians. 

This simple dish of tomatoes, chiles, garlic and sumac symbolizes what has been taken away from Gazans: the ability to obtain fresh ingredients, the opportunity to prepare a simple dish, and the necessity of being able to feed themselves to survive. Enough is enough. There must be a permanent cease-fire, accompanied by a restoration to the Palestinians what is rightfully theirs in Gaza and the West Bank, and an opening of the borders to allow humanitarian aid to reach those in need. 

TOMATO, GARLIC AND SUMAC SALAD

Recipe from Reem Kassis, The Palestinian Table, at 99

Serves 4-6

Ingredients (for the salad):

• 1 pound tomatoes, seasonal or heirloom tomatoes, sliced into 1/2 inch thick rounds
• 2 green chiles, seeded and finely chopped
• 3-4 sprigs of fresh mint, stems removed, and leaves coarsely chopped
• Flaked sea salt
• 1/2 teaspoon sumac

Ingredients (for the dressing):

• 2 cloves garlic, crushed
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 2 tablespoons lemon juice

Directions:

1. Prepare the tomatoes: Arrange the tomato slices in a pretty serving platter or plate. 

2. Prepare the dressing. Put the ingredients for the dressing in a small bowl and whisk until well combined, then spoon over the tomatoes. 

3. Finish the dish. Sprinkle the tomatoes with flaked sea salt, then top the chopped green chiles and mint leaves and sprinkler with sumac. Serve immediately. 

PEACE.

Grilled Clams with Mexican Salsa and Crumbled Chicharrones

Grilling clams is an easy way to prepare the shellfish. The heat of the grill cooks the clams in just minutes. The clams can be plucked off the grill, thereafter removing the top shell. The clam rests on the bottom shell, ready for whatever topping you wish to apply. I have experimented with a few different toppings, which seem to gravitate around Southeastern Asian cuisine. I have prepared Grilled Clams with a Cambodian Ginger Sauce and Vietnamese Grilled Clams with Oyster Sauce and Peanuts.  Both recipes were delicious.

However, this time I wanted to draw inspiration for a topping from a different part of the world. I chose Mexico because I thought that a take on a salsa would be a great topping for grilled clams. I looked for recipes, which were not too hard to find. However, I wanted to do more than simply create a Mexican-inspired topping. I wanted to go above and beyond. I really wanted a recipe that would stand out.

Looking at the recipes, some of them called for the use of bacon. Pork goes very well with clams. Look at any clam chowder and you will find some kind of pork (usually bacon, salt pork, or ham) used to make the recipe. There also also many dishes, like Porco Alentejana, that combine a cut of pork (like a pork butt) with clams. For this recipe, I wanted to take a more Mexican approach. The pork would not be bacon. Instead, it would be chicharrons.

Generally speaking, chicharrones are pieces of fried pork skin. There are many versions of chicharrons, but the classic version involves pork skin or pork belly that is deep fried. If it is just the skin, the process produces a light, puffy, crackling goodness. Chicharrones did not originate in Mexico; instead, these fried pork rinds got their start in Spain, and, more specifically, in the Andalusia region. Spanish conquistadors and colonialists brought not only pigs with them, but the recipes to prepare, among other things, chicharrones. The fried pork rinds took hold across much of the Spanish speaking world, including Mexico, where they are often added as an accompaniment or to finish a dish. 

That is how I used them in this grilled clams recipe. I prepared a Mexican salsa, drawing from recipes that I could find from Baja California. That is the Mexican State where one is most likely to find and harvest clams in Mexico. I took that recipe and then used crumbled chicharrones as a way to finish the dish. The end result was amazing.  I definitely need to incorporate this ingredient into my cooking more often.

GRILLED CLAMS WITH MEXICAN SALSA AND CRUMBLED CHICHARRONES

Recipe adapted from E is for Eat

Serves 2-3

Ingredients:

• 2 pounds of top neck clams (about 8-12 clams)
• 1/4 cup chicharrones, crumbled
• 1 bunch scallions, white parts finely diced, green parts thinly sliced
• 1 small serrano pepper, seeded and diced
• 1 tomato, seeded and diced
• Splash of tequila (about 1 ounce)
• Pinch of red pepper flakes
• 1 teaspoon dried Mexican oregano
• 3-4 cloves garlic, minced
• Couple dashes hot sauce (optional)
• 1 lime, zested and juiced
• Sea Salt
• 2 tablespoons minced cilantro
• 1 tablespoon vegetable oil

Directions:

1. Sauté the onions, pepper and garlic. Heat the vegetable oil in a skillet over medium-high heat. Add the scallions, peppers and garlic. Sauté for about 4-5 minutes. Add the crushed red pepper and oregano. Stir the mixture. Add the tequila and cook for about another 2-3 minutes until the tequila has cooked down. Add the tomatoes and cook for another 2-3 minutes.  

2. Finish the sauce. Remove the onion mixture from the heat, add the lime juice, lime zest and sea salt. Stir to combine. Pour the sauce into a bowl, garnish with the cilantro and chicharrones. 

3. Grill the clams. Heat a grill on high heat. Place the clams on the grate. Close the grill and cook the clams until they open, at most 5 minutes.  Remove the clams from the grill.

4. Finish the dish. Remove the top shells from the clams. Spoon some of the salsa over each clam. Serve immediately. 

PEACE.