Yangrou Chuan

For all that it may do, China cannot erase the influences of those who practice Islam (namely, the Uyghurs) on both the people ... and their food. This influence is most noticeable when it comes to chuan or chuan'r. It is a dish that begins with small pieces of a protein, usually lamb, which are heavily seasoned with ground cumin and chiles. The seasoned meat is threaded onto skewers and then roasted over hot coals. The end product resembles the kebabs that are seemingly omnipresent throughout the Muslim world. 

These particular kebabs originated within, and quintessentially associated with, the Uyghur communities who live in Xinjiang, which is located in the northwest corner of China. The Uyghurs are currently the victims of a concerted effort to erase their culture and history. I have previously posted about this effort, as well as its impact upon Uyghur cuisine. I am not going to repeat what I discussed in that post. But, the subject of chuan brings me back to this discussion, because it is a subject of how aspects of a culture can be accepted and even incorporated into a larger body even while that culture is ruthlessly repressed. 

The spread of chuan throughout northern and eastern China tells a familiar story. The preparation of these kebabs began to spread as the Chinese -- especially those who lived in Beijing -- learned that the skewers were not just delicious, but a good eat after a long night on the nightlife scene.  Small food carts started appearing in the nighttime at night-time stalls, known as da pai dang, serving those who had spent the night partying in the clubs. In other words, the food of the Uyghurs has been accepted into the "mainstream," while other aspects of their culture, such as their religion, their language and their traditions, have not. 

To be clear, this situation -- where certain aspects of a culture have been accepted into the "mainstream" while the culture itself has not -- is not unique to the Uyghurs in China. Indeed, if one looked hard enough (which really is not that hard at all), one can see aspects of Native American culture that have been accepted into mainstream American culture while the Native Americans themselves were forced over the course of our history onto reservations. 

In my humble opinion, it is important to ensure that everyone knows and understands the history behind the foods that they enjoy.  It is equally important that, where this history is troublesome and difficult, people acknowledge the issues and work to make positive changes. Put another way, education will hopefully help to prevent these historical issues from repeating themselves. 

YANGROU CHUAN

Recipe from Serious Eats

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 tablespoon red chile flakes
• 1 tablespoon whole cumin seeds
• 2 teaspoons whole fennel seed
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 2 teaspoons granulated garlic
• 2 pounds of boneless lamb shoulder or leg, cut into 1 inch pieces
• 1 tablespoon vegetable or canola oil
• 2 teaspoons Shaoxing wine (or rice wine)

Directions:

1. Prepare the marinade. In a mortar and pestle or spice grinder, coarsely grind chile flakes, cumin and fennel.  Add granulated garlic and kosher salt and briefly grind to break salt into smaller pieces and thoroughly combine ingredients. reserve 1 tablespoon of the spice mix in a small bowl.  Add lamb to a large bowl and toss thoroughly with the remaining spice mix, oil and Shaoxing wine (or rice wine0.

2. Prepare the grill. Light a chimney of charcoal or a gas grill to medium high hear.  When the charcoal is lit and covered with gray ash, pour out and arrange the coals on one side of the charcoal grate. Set cooking grate in place, cover grill and allow to preheat for 5 minutes.  Clean and oil the grate. 

3. Grill the skewers. Grill skewers, covered, over indirect heat until lamb is nearly cooked through, about four minutes per side.  Move skewers over direct heat, sprinkle with the reserved spice mix and cook until well seared on both sides, about 1 minute total. 

4. Finish the dish.  Remove the skewers from the gas grill and serve right away. 

ENJOY!

Wesley Jones' Barbecue and Antebellum Sauce

Federal Project Number 1. The moniker for a government program that employed upwards of 40,000 writers, musicians, artists and actors during the Great Depression.  The Federal government hired all of these individuals because, as the then-Secretary of Commerce Harry Hopkins bluntly put it, "Hell, they've got to eat too." However, there was two important principles underying Federal One, as the project became known: (1) in the time of need, the artist - no less than the manual worker - is entitled to employment as an artist, even at the public expense; and (2) the arts - no less than business, agriculture, and labor - are the immediate concern of the country. 

One of the initiatives of Federal One was the Federal Writers Project. This project within a project employed thousands of writers, historians, researchers, editors and others to do what they do best: preserve the American experience. They did what was asked of them; and, in the process, demonstrated the important contributions that they could make to our country. 

Most notably, the Federal Writers Project produced, Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery in the United States from interviews with Former Slaves.  This work is a literary opus, bringing together 2,300 individual interviews of former slaves and 500 original pictures that span nearly 10,000 pages. My introduction to this literary composition placed me squarely in its middle. It was Volume XIV (of thirty-three parts).  This volume is entitled, South Carolina Narratives, Part 3. It includes the interviews of approximately 75 former slaves.

One of those slaves was Wesley Jones, who was interviewed on June 21, 1937. 

Wesley was born in 1840 on a plantation somewhere in Union County, South Carolina. During his interview, Wesley talked about what he would do for the plantation owner, such as driving him to church or goiong to a store in Sardis, South Carolina to pick up papers (or letters).  Today, the town of Sardis appears to be little more than a crossroads just south of an exit on Interstate 95. However, back in the 1850s, a lot more was apparently going on in that little town, especially at that store. According to Wesley, there were "big barbecues" at the Sardis store. 

As it turns out, Wesley had a role at those barbecues. He worked as the pitmaster.  Wesley recounted that, "on his 'karpets' (pit stakes), ... I had whole goats, whole hogs, sheep and de side of a cow." He also discussed how he prepared these meats:

Night befo' dem barbecues, I used to stay up all night a-cooking and basting de meats wid barbecue sass (sauce). It made of vinegar, black and red pepper, salt, butter, a little sage, coriander, basil, onion and garlic. Some folks drop a little sugar in it.  On a long pronged stick, I wraps a soft rag or cotton fer a swab, and I swabs dat meat 'till it drip into de fire. Dem drippings change de smoke into seasoned fumes dat smoke de meat.  We turn de meat over and swab it da way all night long 'till it ooze seasoning and bake all through.

This excerpt from the Slave Narrativees provides a first hand account of how African-American slaves prepared barbecue.  However, let's be honest, it is an account of how those slaves prepared barbecue for the white plantation class. Slaves would not have had access to whole goats, whole hogs, sheep and a side of a cow to prepare their own meals or meals for their families. They often only had the discarded cuts, the tough portions of an animal that required a slow cook over low temperatures in order to make them tender enough to eat.  

Yet, the story of Wesley Jones remains important.  It provides a starting point on an educational journey to explore the true roots of barbecue. Those roots originated with the enslaved and persecuted.  The problem is that much of the history of barbecue is not written by those who did the work. 

The picture shown above is a good metaphor for this point. It shows a person working the pit, mopping the meat as it smokes. You can see who is doing the work, except for his face. Countless African Americans and Native Americans, whose identities have been ignored or forgotten by history, contributed to what we all enjoy today when we eat some pulled pork or sliced brisket. It was their cooking traditions, along with those of the Native Americans, that constitute the origin story of American barbecue.

I want to learn more about their work. That is my goal with this post. I decided to recreate what Wesley Jones would prepare for the barbecues in Sardis. Thanks to the Federal Writers Project, and one of the Project's editors named Elmer Turnage, I have the words of Wesley Jones for a starting point.  

Wesley said that he spent the night "basting de meats wid barbecue sass" and "all night long I swabs dat meat...." These passages suggest that he used something that modern pitmasters could refer to as mop sauce.  It is basically a thin liquid - usually vinegar (if you are trying to tenderize the meat) or beer (if you want to add flavor) - with spices.  Wesley basically provided the ingredients for this sauce: vinegar, black pepper, red pepper, salt, butter, a little sage, coriander, basil, onion and garlic.  He also provided one additional tidbit of information.  Wesley noted that some people added sugar, which suggests that what he was describing was a fairly typical barbecue sauce for the time period. 

A mop sauce is applied during the cook.  The question remained what happens before the cook.  Wesley did not say how the meat was initially prepared. He made no mention of applying salt or spices to the meat in advance of cooking it. I gave it a lot of thought and I came up with two options. First, I could do a simple salt and pepper seasoning. Second, I could prepare a rub, using the ingredients for the barbecue sauce as a guide. I chose the second option. I used the dry ingredients and substituted onion powder and garlic powder for onions and garlic.  

As for the meat itself, I don't have access to whole goats, hogs, sheep or even a side of beef.  I did have a pork butt.  I applied the rub to the meat and let it rest for a while, as I got the smoker going.  Once the cook began, I used the mop sauce basically every hour. I decided to wrap the pork about half way through the cook to help maintain the moisture. I applied a lot of the mop sauce before I wrapped it to help keep the meat moist during the final hours of the cook.  

WESLEY JONES' BARBECUE

Adapted from the Slave Narratives, Vol. XIV, pg. 73 (1937)

Serves many

Ingredients (for the meat):

• 1 pork butt (between 6 to 9 pounds)
• 2 tablespoon of kosher salt
• 1 tablespoon onion powder
• 1 tablespoon garlic powder
• 1 teaspoon of black pepper
• 1 teaspoon of red pepper flakes
• 1 teaspoon dried rubbed sage
• 1 teaspoon of dried basil leaves
• 1/2 teaspoon crushed coriander seed

Ingredients (for the mop sauce):

• 1 cup of apple cider vinegar
• 1/2 cup of unsalted butter
• 2 tablespoon of kosher salt
• 1 tablespoon onion powder
• 1 tablespoon garlic powder
• 1 teaspoon of black pepper
• 1 teaspoon of red pepper flakes
• 1 teaspoon dried rubbed sage
• 1 teaspoon of dried basil leaves
• 1/2 teaspoon crushed coriander seed
• 1 tablespoon sugar (optional)

Directions:

1. Prepare the pork.  Combine the dry ingredients in a bowl. Season the pork butt with the rub on all sides until well covered. Cover the pork and allow it to rest for at least a few hours, if not overnight. 

2. Prepare the smoker.  Prepare a fire in the smoker, and, allow it to burn until the temperature reaches approximately 275 degrees Fahrenheit. Soak wood chunks (preferably hickory or oak) in water for at least an hour before smoking the pork. 

3. Smoke the pork.  Once the smoker is ready, oil the grates and place the pork in the smoker. Add a few chunks of wood, such as hickory or apple wood to the fire to create the smoke.  You may want to wrap the pork about halfway through the cook to help retain the moisture. 

4. Prepare the mop sauce. Combine all of the ingredients for the mop sauce and stir well.  With a barbecue mop, apply the mop sauce at least every hour to the pork. Smoke until the pork reaches an internal temperature of at least 185 degrees Fahrenheit. 

One caveat: the foregoing recipe is experimental.  After all, this was the first time that I tried to make this recipe.  It needs some refinement, especially with respect to the rub. I hope to be able to cook it again and make some improvements.  When I do, I will update this post. 

Finally, a reknown writer, culinary historian and educator -- Michael Twitty -- recreates a barbecue sauce that is based upon Wesley Jones' mop sauce. Twitty recommends applying this sauce toward the end of the cook as a light mop sauce or glaze.  I used it as a barbecue sauce that could be mixed in with the pork once it was chopped or pulled.   

ANTEBELLUM BARBECUE SAUCE

Recipe from Afroculinaria

 Ingredients:

• 1/2 stick of unsalted butter
• 1 large yellow or white onion, well chopped
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 cup of apple cider vinegar
• 1/2 cup of water
• 2 tablespoon of kosher salt
• 1 teaspoon of black pepper
• 1 teaspoon of red pepper flakes
• 1 teaspoon dried rubbed sage
• 1 teaspoon of dried basil leaves
• 1/2 teaspoon crushed coriander seed
• 1/4 cup dark brown sugar or 4 tablespoons of molasses

Directions:

Melt the butter in a large saucepan over medium high heat. Add the onion and garlic until translucent.  Turn the heat down slightly and add vinegar, water, optional ingredients (sugar or molasses), salt and spices.  Stir and allow the mixture to cook gently for about 30 minutes to an hour.  Use this sauce as a light mop sauce or glaze during the last 15 to 30 minutes over the pit of coals and as a dip for the cooked meat. 

Michael also offers to options for this sauce.  The first option is to add 1/2 up of brown mustard and a bit more sugar to create a Carolina Mustard Sauce. The second option is to create a "red sauce" by adding two cans of tomato paste or 4 very ripe red or purple heirloom tomatoes (Large Red, Cherokee Purple, Brandywine or Amish Paste), and then cook it down for several hours on low heat to a comparable consistency, adding two tablespoons of Worcestershire sauce. 

*        *        *

As I noted above, this post is a starting point on a journey to explore the original roots of barbecue in America. I plan on doing more research on this subject and, over time, to continue posting what I have learned.  Thank you for taking the time to research this post; and, as always,

ENJOY!

Steamed Cockles in White Wine

Naku te rourou nau te rourou ka ora ai te iwi. 

The words -- translated from Maori, "with your basket and my basket the people will live" -- float through your mind as you stand with a basket in your hand. You are with your family, looking out at a wide body of water during low tide. Perhaps you at the water's edge of Okoromai Bay on Te Ika a Maui. Maybe you are standing on the shoreline on the Otago Peninsula on Te Wai Pounamu. Either way, you are looking for tuangi or tuaki, the small bivalve that hides just beneath the muddy, sandy surface that stretches out before you. 

The words continue to echo through your mind. Naku te rourou nau te rourrou ka ora ai te iwi.  Your basket.  My basket.  The people will live. Working together, you and your family will gather the tuangi or tuaki. Those cockles or clams, as well as other shellfish, have been an important food source for the Maori diet. That importance means that you have to exercise care in terms of how many you collect. You have to ensure that enough tuangi or tuaki remain so that this food source continues to thrive. 

Maori children collecting tuangi near Paibia
(source: Teara)

This image is one that has been repeated for decades or centuries by the Maori across Aotearoa. As the tide goes out, families venture into the shallows in search of cockles. The bivalves prefer shallow waters, meaning they can be easy to dind. They also bury themselves just below the surface, which makes it relatively easy to dig them out. 

There are certain rules that need to be followed. For example, no shellfish are opened while there are still people in the water. In addition, only one kind of shellfish will be taken during an outing. There may be paua (edible sea snails). There may be kina (sea urchins). There may even be pipi (another bivalve).  It does not matter. If you are out there looking for tuangi or tuaki, that is all you will collect during that outing. The paua, kina and pipi are out of bounds. 

(source: Oregon Dept. of Fish & Wildlife)

As you walk into the shallows, your eyes are focused on the mottled brown surface. You are looking for their "shows," a tell-tale sign that a cockle or clam is hiding beneath the surface. The "show" consists of two pencil sized holes near each other. Those holes tell you that a cockle lies just beneath the surface.  You dig with your hands, moving the sand and earth until you reach the bivalve. You wipe off some of the dirt and take a closer look at what you just found. 

In the waters around New Zealand, you are more than likely going to find Austrovenus Stutchburyl, or the New Zealand Cockle. This little saltwater clam is usually found in estuaries or harbors, where the sand is not very fine.  (As it turns out, fine sand could suffocate these clams.) They bury themselves about an inch under the surface. 

Unfortunately, I have not been able to have the experience of collecting bivalves in the estuaries or bays around New Zealand.  However, I was able to find some very good clams, which were perfect for this recipe.  Most steamed clam recipes are very simple, consisting of only a few ingredients.  The reason is simple: one wants the flavor of the clams to shine through, with the broth playing a supporting or complementary role. This recipe is particularly good, as the wine combines with the liquid released from the clams to produce very good broth. 

STEAMED COCKLES IN WHITE WINE

Recipe from Scrumpdillyicious

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1/4 cup white wine or fish stock
• 1 bay leaf
• 30 cockles (or clams)
• 2 cloves garlic, finely sliced
• 1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped
• 1 tablespoon butter or olive oil
• 1 lemon, juiced and zested

Directions:

1. Prepare the cockles.  Let the cockles soak in cold water for about 30-60 minutes so that they release any sand trapped inside. 

2.  Steam the cockles.  In a large pot, hear the butter or olive oil and sliced garlic over high heat while stirring constantly, cooking for one minute.  Add the cockles, wine and half the parsley, then cover, shaking the pan occasionally until all of the shells have opened. 

3.  Finish the dish.  To serve, pour the cockles and sauce in to a high rimmed serving platter and drizzle with lemon juice and the remaining parsley for garnish. 

ENJOY!

Torshe Kebab

Food provides a way to travel at any place around the world, without having to go anywhere. If you have a recipe, you have a passport. That piece of paper can take you just about anywhere if you have an open mind and a desire to learn, can take you just about anywhere. This has been especially important for me during this time of COVID, because of the inability to travel and the lack of desire to waste time watching television or tablets. 

Recipes can come from anywhere.  A couple of years ago, my parents bought me a copy of Naomi Duguid's Taste of Persia.  They knew of my love for Persian food, especially kabobs.  (For those who read this blog, you may have seen my posts about Kubideh, Chenjeh and, for my Around the World in 80 Dishes personal culinary challenge, Jojeh Kebabs.)  I thought that the Taste of Persia cookbook would not only enable me to learn more about those kebabs, but to explore more about Persian cooking.  As an added bonus, the cookbook also explores the cuisines of neighboring countries, such as Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia, as well as particular ethnic groups, such as the Kurds.  

There was one recipe in that book that I have wanted to try for a while.  It was a recipe for Torshe Kebab. (The word "torsh" means sour, so the recipe is actually for Persian sour kebabs.) This recipe would take me to the northern Iranian provinces of Gilan and Mazandaran, which lie along the Caspian Sea. From what I could ascertain, the recipe originated in Gilan.  The marinade used in the recipe -- with its walnut paste and pomegranate sauce -- is used not just for these kebabs, but also as the basis for Fesejan or Fesejoon, which is a stew of chicken, duck or lamb. 

Torshe kebabs are typically prepared with beef, usually from the sirloin or tenderloin cut.  As beef can be expensive, cooks may make the kebab with chicken, goat or lamb. While the particular protein can change, the walnut paste and pomegranate sauce remains the same. It serves two important purposes as a marinade.  The combination of walnuts and pomegranate not only tenderizes the meat, but it also adds a lot of flavor to the meat of the kebab. For that reason, while the recipe contemplates a short marinade time of 1 to 2 hours, I would marinate the meat overnight.  

The recipe also provides a way to broil the kebabs, but the best way to prepare them is to grill them.  Once the kebabs are finished, they should be served with rice and/or a salad. If you are looking for a drink, consider making some doogh.

TORSHE KEBABS

Recipe from Naomi Daguid, Taste of Persia at 165

Serves 4

Ingredients:

1 cup walnuts or walnut pieces

1/2 cup pomegranate molasses

1 teaspoon sea salt

2 garlic cloves, mashed or minced

2 tablespoons sunflower or extra virgin olive oil

1/2 cup minced fresh flat leaf parsley (optional)

2 pounds boneless lamb or goat shoulder, or 

     boneless beef top round or hanger steak, cut into 1 inch cubes

Sugar (optional)

Fresh tarragon leaves (optional)

Directions:

1.  Prepare the marinade.  To make the marinade, place the walnuts in a food processor and pulse to drop them to smaller than raisin size.  Add the remaining ingredients and pulse to blend.  Transfer to a large bowl.  (Alternatively, very finely chop the walnuts and pound to a coarse powder in a large mortar.  Transfer to a large bowl, add the remaining ingredients, and stir to blend thoroughly.

2.  Continue the marinade.  Add the meat to the bowl and stir, turning to make sure all surface are coated with the marinade.  Cover and set aside to marinate for at least 1 hour or as long as overnight; refrigerate if the marinating time is more than 2 hours.  

3.  Preheat the grill.  Bring the meat to room temperature. Preheat a charcoal or gas grill. 

4.  Prepare the kebabs.  Brush off the most of the marinade that is clinging to the meat and reserve the marinade.  Thread the meat onto metal skewers so that the piece are barely touching each other, not crowded together, this helps the meat to cook evenly.  

5.  Cook the kebabs. Place the skewers 4 to 5 inches from the coals or fame and grill, turning occasionally for 7 to 12 minutes, depending upon the heat of your fire and the desired degree of doneness.  Alternatively, you can broil the meat.  Preheat the broiler with a rack about 5 inches below it.  Line a baking sheet with parchment or lightly oil it.  Place the pieces of meat on the sheet and cook for 8 to 10 minutes turning the meat at the halfway point and checking it for doneness after 7 minutes.

6.  Prepare the sauce.  When the meat is grilling, or once it comes off the grill, pour the marinade into a small saucepan, add about 1/2 cup of water, and bring to a boil over medium heat.  Cook for a few minutes, stirring occasionally.  Taste it and season it with salt if you wish; if it is too tart for your taste, add a teaspoon of sugar or more to taste.  You might want to stir in some tarragon leaves once it comes off the heat.  Pour into  a small serving bowl. 

7.  Finish the dish.  Remove the meat from the skewers, put out a platter of herbs, rice and the sauce. 

ENJOY!

Arrosticini

You are standing next to your horse on the hillside in the province of Abruzzo, halfway between the mountains and the plains. You are following the "silent grassy river," trekking "on the footsteps of ancient fathers." This particular route was  restored in the 13th century by the Holy Roman Emperor, Frederick II.  It was his zeal to return to the glory of ages past that led to the restorations of trails like this one, which were first trodden by the Romans centuries earlier.  You are not an emperor. You are just a guide. Those who you guide are grazing peacefully on the verdant grass that leads down to the valley.  They are your flock of sheep.  It is your job to lead them to greener pastures,

It's getting late, the sun will soon set. You survey the green landscape in the distance: the mountains, the valleys, the small towns in the distance. Yet, your eyes always return to those sheep. They are the reason why you are standing in this spot at this particular moment. These sheep are the means by which you, and your family, are able to make a living, as meager as it may be. 

The Transumanza

As you watch the sheep, you begin to realize how tired you are. Shepherds do not get very many breaks. You are in the midst of the Transumanza, or "crossing the land."  It is the three-week trek from the mountains to the plains in search of better grazing lands. The sheep are eating, but you are hungry too. However, there is still work to do. You need to set up your stazzi, the temporary fencing that will keep the sheep corralled during the night.  As you set the remaining posts of that fence, you call upon your Maremmano-Abruzzese sheepdog to corral the straggling sheep into the enclosure. With the fencing in place and the sheep inside, you can finally take a rest ... and eat. 

You start a fire over which you will cook your meal. You don't have a furnacella, which is the brazier that you would traditionally use to make your meal. Instead, you just have to work with what you have. With the words of O Surdato Nnammurato singing through your head, you pulled out some mutton from an old sheep you recently butchered, stringing roughly similar sized pieces on wooden skewers known as ceppos. Once the coals take on their ashy appearance, with the heat radiating from the center, you place the skewers over the fire. Turning the skewers every once in a while, you watch the meat cook as the embers burn a deep red. That red begins to illuminate the space around you as the sun begins to set. Soon enough, the skewers are cooked and you are ready to begin eating your meal. 

This dish is known Arrosticini -- kebabs of mutton, rubbed with rosemary or other available herbs -- is  one of the iconic foods from the Abruzzo region. Yet, it is the simple food of the shepherds. It is what they would prepare when they were out with their flocks of sheep or herds of cattle. It is a dish that reflects the particular circumstances of a shepherd.  Very tired, with little at his or her disposal, he or she would prepare this simple meal to provide needed sustenance. They took what little they had -- and, perhaps, the most important thing they had, namely, their animals -- to produce a meal that, in my humble opinion, is far greater than the sum of its ingredients.  

Today, most arrosticini are prepared in kitchens and restaurants throughout Abruzzo and, as evident from this post, around the world. Home cooks can buy their own furnacella to grill the skewers in their backyards. They can even buy their own special knives by which they can cut the mutton for the kebabs. If one is too tired (or lazy), he or she can simply forgo the butchering of a piece of mutton or lamb and order pre-made arrosticini. 

Pre-made kebabs is not for me, especially when dealing with a dish with such humble and simple origins. That is one of the important purposes of this blog: namely, my effort to learn about the origins of a dish, as well as what that the dish means for those who originally made it. For the shepherds, arrosticini was sustenance. It fulfilled a basic need for someone who worked long hours, perhaps on an equally long journey. And, those skewers were damn good to eat. 

ARROSTICINI

Recipe adapted from Great Italian Chefs

Serves 8

 Ingredients:

• 1.5 pounds of lamb shoulder or leg, diced into 1 inch cubes
• 1 spring of rosemary, chopped finely
• Olive oil
• Sea salt
• Freshly ground black pepper

Directions:

1. Marinate the lamb.  Place the lamb in a bowl with the rosemary and olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Mix well and set aside while you preheat a barbecue for direct cooking.

2. Skewer the lamb.  if using wooden skewers, leave to soak in cold water for at least 20 minutes to prevent them from burning during cooking.  Thread the lamb onto the skewers neatly, ensuring an even distribution of fat and meat. 

3. Cook the skewers.  Once the coals in the barbecue have turned an ashy white, or the gas grill is heated to medium high.  Cook the skewers for 2-3 minutes, turning them halfway through. 

4. Finish the dish. Serve hot with pepperoncini and crusty bread with good quality olive oil. 

For an excellent article about the Transumanza through the neighboring province of Molise, check out this New York Times article by Maria Russo.

ENJOY!

Ojibwe Fish Cakes

If there was anyone who should be considered in a project about peoples who lack their own countries, as I am doing with my Beyond Borders project, it is Native Americans. It is estimated that, as of 1492, there were sixty million Native Americans living across the Americas. They lived in organized societies -- which comprised of nearly six hundred different tribes -- in every region of the hemisphere. These societies were as developed and as complex as anything that existed in Europe. 

For example, the Ojibwe nation stretched along southern Canada, from Quebec to Saskatchewan, and further south into the United States, including parts of what is known today as Minnesota, Wisconsin and Michigan.  They had the fifth largest population of Native American peoples in the United States, with only the Navajo, Cherokee, Choctaw and Sioux being more populous. In Canada, they were the second largest population, with only the Cree being more numerous.   

The Ojibwe don't have a nation today. They have been relegated to reservations, such as the Red Lake  Reservation and the Mille Lacs Reservation --  that dot the large expanse  that the Ojibwe once controlled on their own.

As with most native tribes, the Ojibwe developed their own cuisine based upon not only what they hunted or fished, but also the produce and grains they cultivated. The Ojibwe are well known for producing maple syrup or cultivating rice.  Yet, what led me to researching their cuisine and writing about it comes not from the land, or slightly submerged land, but from the water.  It is the fish, which play an important role in the cuisine and diet of the Ojibwe. 

Ojibwe Seine Fishing
(photo from dibaajimowin.com)

Traditionally, Ojibwe women did much of the fishing, except for the ice fishing in the winter and spear fishing in the spring. The fishermen and women used many different techniques to catch fish, depending upon the location, the season and, of course the fish.  For example, the Ojibwe lowered large nets -- seines --  into lakes to capture fish.  These nets with floats at the top and weights at the bottom were used to trap the fish by taking the ends of the nets and moving then to encircle the fish. This method enabled the Ojibwe to catch larger amounts of fish.  

Other common fishing methods included spear fishing and the traditional hook and line.  When it came to spear fishing, Ojibwe fishermen take their canoes out to the water at night. They used a torch as bait.  The fish would be attracted to the light and come to the surface, only to meet the sharp end of an Ojibwe spear. This method was best for catching the largest fish, such as sturgeon, although the Ojibwe did modify spears into three-pronged tridents to help catch smaller fish. As for the hook and line method, the Ojibwe would fashion hooks out of deer bone and coppper, as well as make bobbers with bark and weights with small stones.  They would then set out on canoes, tying the line around their hand and then the canoe.  They would then fish by trolling across the lakes or rivers. 

These fishing techniques resulted in catches of a wide variety of fish.  The species included the walleye, the iconic fish of the upper Midwest, as well as whitefish, perch, trout and, as noted above, even sturgeon. 

Ojibwe rack for drying and smoking fish
(from the Ojibwe People's Dictionary). 

Once caught, the Ojibwe prepared the fish in different ways.  They would boil, bake or pickle the fish if they were going to consume it in the near future.  If they intended to save the fish for when food might be more scarce, such as during the winter months, the Ojibwe would smoke the fish. They would erect racks that would enable them to smoke the whole fish. These method was the primary way to preserve fish since salt would not make its way into Ojibwe cooking until 1845. If the fish was caught during the winter, such as when the men would go out to ice fish, the cold environs provided their own way to preserve the fish.  Just layer the fish in now, where it would freeze until needed. 

While the Ojibwe would boil and bake the fish, there was one method of cooking that caught my attention.  It was the fish cake.  Ojibwe men and women would use fish they caught from Lake Superior or one of the rivers in Minnesota, which was typically trout or perch.  They would prepare the cakes for roasting over hot coals. 

However, the recipe that I found called for frying them on the stove. I decided to borrow from my experience of making crab cakes.  I have made crab cakes in nearly every way: frying, broiling, baking, etc.  I decided that, for these fish cakes, I would first bake them at about 375 degrees Fahreinheit for about 10 minutes.  Given the fish is already cooked, the only concern is the beaten egg, which must be cooked in order to firm up the cakes.  However, I find that baking cakes, whether crab or fish, is often not enough.  So, I finished the fish cakes under the broiler for about 5 minutes.  This allows for the cakes' outer surface to brown and crisp up a little. This is a healthy way to create the crispiness that comes from frying the cakes in butter or oil. 

OJIBWE FISH CAKES

Recipe from Hoohla Cooking

Serves 3-4

Ingredients:

• 1 pound of trout or lake perch
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 2 eggs, slightly beaten
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/4 cup cracker meal
• 1/4 cup vegetable oil
• 1 tablespoon onion, finely minced

Directions:

1. Prepare the fish cakes. Flake fish, making sure all bones are removed.  In a large bowl, combine fish, eggs, cracker meal, onion, salt, and pepper. Mix lightly.  shape into 6 to 8 flat cakes. 

2. Fry the fish cakes.  Heat the oil in a heavy frying pan over moderate heat.  Fry the cakes until lightly browned on both sides.  Drain on both sides. Serve immediately.

ENJOY!

Spaghetti alle Vongole

If you want to know about Spaghetti alle Vongole, you need to start with Ippolito Cavalcanti.  He was the Duke of Buonvicino, a small town nestled in the hills of mountains of the Kingdom of Naples and Sicily (now known as Calabria). The Cavalcanti were a noble family whose lineage goes back to Guido Cavalcanti, an accomplished poet in the 14th century. Guido was also the friend of another well known poet, philosopher and writer, Dante Alighieri.  

Unlike his forefather, Ippolito Cavalcanti was not a poet. Instead, he wrote a cookbook. That book is Cucina Teortico-practica. He published his cookbook in 1837; and, as it turns out, the book in some sense part-cookbook and part-history book. To be sure, there are recipes for dishes such as eggplant parmigiana and fried cod. However, the recipes provide a glimpse into the cuisine of Calabria during the early to mid 19th century. In more direct terms, those recipes document  what some people -- that is, the well to do -- were eating at that time. 

Ippolito Cavalcanti's Cookbook.

The Cucina Teortico-practica could have been relegated to the dusty bookshelves of time, but for one particular recipe: Spaghetti alle vongole. As it turns out, Ippolito Cavalcanti included the first known written recipe for that dish in his cookbook.  

Ippolito's recipe has just five ingredients: pasta, olive oil, garlic. parsley and clams. That's it. Yet, those five ingredients have become associated with an authentic spagehetti alle vongole. Those five ingredients constitute what every Calabrian envisions when served a pasta dish with clams. If you are using a recipe that calls for white wine or crushed red pepper flakes, then you are cooking a dish that is not authentic. If you add grated cheese, either during the preparation or while eating the dish, then you are destined for one of Dante Alighieri's nine circles of hell. My guess is that the circle in which you find yourself probably depends upon what kind of cheese you grate over the dish.  

There is a reason for such simplicity in the ingredients. The whole point of the dish -- its culinary raison d'etre -- is to highlight the taste of the clams.  Each briny little bite should transport the eater to the shallow waters of the Mediterranean, along the Calabrian coast, where he or she is standing knee deep in the crystal blue waters with a clam rake and a bucket.  That is quite the feat for an 18th century Duke and cookbook author whose tiny little town was more than a two-hour walk from the nearest coastline.  

Vongole Veraci.

Moreover, just any clam will do. The authentic spaghetti alle vongole is prepared with the vongole verace or "true clam." That clam is the venerupis dessiucata, which can be found in those Medditerranean waters around the ports of Calabria. Yet, unless you live in Calabria and dig out those clams yourself, you are most likely going to be using clams from some other part of the world. I try to purchase clams as locally as I can, and, the best supplier that I have found in the region where I live is Cherrystone Aqua Farms. They have both little-neck clams and middle-neck clams (as well as some excellent oysters. The general rule for choosing clams to be used in pasta recipes is the smaller the better.  Smaller clams are more tender than larger ones. They are also easier to overcook, which will defeat the purpose of using smaller clams. I used some middle-neck clams, which were probably the largest clams that I would use for this recipe. 

Now, I reach the point where I have to admit that, despite everything I have written to this point, the following recipe is not a traditional spaghetti alle vongole dish. The reason is -- gasp --  it uses white wine. While Ippolito Cavalcanti may be looking down disapprovingly at me, I figured that I could never prepare an authentic dish anyways because I was not using vongole veraci. So, I thought that a little white wine would not hurt. After all, I planned on opening a bottle to drink as I enjoyed the dish.  (One last tip: don't use Pinot Grigio, this dish requires a dry wine, like an Orvieto or Trebbiano.) 

SPAGHETTI ALLE VONGOLE

Recipe from Taste Cooking

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 2 pounds of vongole veraci or other small clams in their shells
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• 2 cloves garlic
• 1/2 cup white wine
• 1/4 cup fresh chopped parsley
• 1 pound spaghetti
• Salt

Directions:

1. Prepare the clams.  Soak the clams overnight in water and salt to clean them. Put the clams (still in their shells) in an open saute pan with a little olive oil and a clove of garlic over low-medium heat.  Be careful not to burn the garlic.  Stir the clams until they are all open.  Once the clams are open, add 1/2 cup of white wine, the parsley and then a second clove of thinly diced garlic.  Stir and then remove from heat. 

2. Cook the pasta.  Cook the pasta in salted water. 

3. Finish the dish.  Drain the pasta 1 minute before done and add it to the saute pan with the clams.  Turn the heat on high and let the pasta cook the last minute together with the clams and their shells.  Serve with or without shells. 

For more about spaghetti alle vongole, check out the well written posts at Taste Cooking and Phase Changes Kitchen. 

ENJOY!

The Giant Flaming Zombie Polar Bear

"What is in a name?" For fans of Shakespeare, it is a question posed by Juliet in Act II, Scene II of Romeo & Juliet.  For a fan of craft beer like me, it is a reason to buy a beer. The name in this case is Giant Flaming Zombie Polar Bear, a double India Pale Ale produced by the brewers at Atlas Brew Works in Washington, D.C. 

I've reviewed many double IPAs over the life of this blog. Firestone Walker's Double Jack (a very, very good beer); Black Flag Brewing's Mambo Sauce (a great introduction to a relatively new brewer); and Columbus Brewing Company's Bodhi (one of the best I've had). I have a particular fondness for double IPAs and tripel IPAs, which is most likely due to my preference for hoppy beers.  The bitterness -- which can range from piney and resinous to citrusy and vibrant -- provides some variety from beer to beer, while the higher ABV ensures that each one packs a punch. 

But, it is that name -- Giant Flaming Zombie Polar Bear -- that caught my eye and led me to purchase a six pack to take home.  There was no actual giant flaming zombie polar bear on the label.  Instead, it was the standard Atlas labelling, which itself is one of the more classic designs out there.  

But, there is more to a beer review than the label. The brewers at Atlas describe this beer as a "deceptively smooth beast." They go on to describe the combination of hops, some that I've heard of and others that are unfamiliar. Bravo, Mandarina Bavaria, Chinook, Cascade and Centennial. This particular combination is supposed to present "orange citrus aromas", along with a "malty backbone" that supposedly "balances the assertive hop bitterness and heavy citrus hop character providing an overall flavor reminscent of orange marmalade." 

I have to admit that I am not a big fan of orange marmalade. While I could definitely sense the elements of oranges, I am not sure that I would go as far to descrive the overall flavor as orange marmalade. Sure, orange marmalade is typically made from bitter oranges, which resonates with the hop bitterness of a double IPA, but, in my humble opinion, this beer lacks the sweetness that one would expect to co-exist with the bitterness of a marmelade. 

All of this discussion is academic, at best, and rambling, at worst. The bottom line is that the Giant Flaming Zombie Polar Bear is one damn good double IPA. It comes very close to unseating the Bodhi in my opinion as the best double IPA that I have reviewed. At 9.4%, it is a double IPA that deserves to be savored, taking occasional sips while relaxing after a stressful day.  Needless to say, I've had a few and that is why I am down to my last can from the six pack.  I will need to go out and find another six pack.  Until then ....

ENJOY!

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Belize

The famous author, Aldous Huxley, once observed, "[i]f the world had any ends, British Honduras would certainly be one of them. It is not on the way from anywhere to anywhere else. It is all but uninhabited." Huxley lived from 1894 to 1963; and, that parcel of land that he knew as British Honduras is known today as Belize.  That name came with the country's independence on September 21, 1981. 

The land known as "Mother Nature's Best Kept Secret" is located just south of the Yucatan peninsula in Central America.  It is a relatively small country, with only 8,867 square miles, which is just slightly smaller than than the State of New Hampshire.  It is also similar to New Hampshire in another respect: namely, smaller populations of people surrounded by large expanses of wilderness.  Belize is home to more than 5,000 species of plants and animals that call the area their home. 

Yet, the history of area is one marked by one particular species.  As early as 1,500 B.C., the Mayan civilzation settled in the area, establishing cities like Lamanai, Altun Ha, and Yalbac. In its late era, there were perhaps as many as one million Mayans living in the area that is present-day Belize. Yet, like the rest of Central America, Spanish conquistadors made their way through the area, claiming it for the Spanish Empire.  British pirates began to make the area their home, with the first permanent British settlement being established in 1716.  The land officially became part of the British empire around 1786.  It remained a part of that empire until its independence in 1981. 

What makes any country interesting is the cultures and people who reside within. The country of Belize is home to a mix of cultures, including Maya, Creoles, Garinagu (a mix of West African, Arawak and Carib Islander), Mestizos and even Mennonites. All of these cultures, as well as the others who live in Belize, have contributed to what could be defined as Belizean cuisine. Some commonalities can be found with Mexican or Central American cuisine, as well as Jamaican food. Yet, the cuisine of Belize retains its own identity. 

MAIN COURSE

For this personal culinary challenge, I am going to prepare Chimole, which is also known as "Black Dinner." It is a dish with roots in the both the Mayan and Metizo communities. It is a dish that was originally prepared by Mestizo families, traditionally on a Sunday. Chimole is a soup that is full of protein.  A whole chicken goes into the pot while the cook prepares pork meatballs to be added in toward the end of the cook.  There are also vegetables and other ingredients, such as a pepper, onion, and tomatoes, but they definitely play a secondary role to the meat.  As for the name "Black Dinner," that comes from the use of recado negro, a very smoky and spicy mixture made from ancho peppers and other spices. The mixture itself can be traced back to the Mayan civilization.

I tried to make both the recado negro and the Chimole.  I thought that my effort to make the spice mixture was going well, because I followed the recipe.  However, as the Chimole came together, it appeared that there was something missing.  The soup was not glack, but rather a deep, dark red. It was more like a recado rojo than a recado negro. I continued with the recipe, which produced the soup in the picture below. 

CHIMOLE

Recipe from International Cuisine

Serves 4-6

Ingredients:

1 chicken, divided

4 cloves garlic

1 pound of ground pork

3 hard boiled eggs (chopped into small pieces)

2 raw eggs

3 tablespoons of recado negro (see recipe below)
Salt
Pepper
1 bay leaf
2 tomatoes diced
1 bell pepper diced
1 onion diced
1/2 teaspoon cumin
1/2 teaspoon thyme

Directions:
1.  Prepare the recado negro.  In a small bowl, add the recado negro with enough water so that it will dissolve (add the cumin as well).

2.  Prepare the pork.  In a separate bowl, mix the ground pork with the hard boil eggs and raw eggs, add salt and pepper to taste and thyme.  Form into small meatballs and cook in the oven at 350 degrees for about 15 minutes.

3.  Prepare the chicken.  Brown the chicken in garlic, and then put in a large pot. Add the recado liquid and fill the pot with water until the chicken is covered.  Add the diced tomatoes, diced peppers, diced onion and bay leaf and cook over medium high heat for 30 minutes.

4.  Finish the soup.  Add the meatballs and cook for 5 additional minutes.  To thicken the soup, add a little cornstarch mixed with water at the end.  Serve with rice or tortillas.

SPICE MIXTURE

A recado is a spice mixture that originagted with the Mayan people and is still used today by the peoples who live on the Yucatan peninsula and in Belize.  There are three types of recados: recado negro (or the black spice mix), recado rojo (or a red spice mix) and recado blanco (or a white spice mix).  

The recipe for chimole calls for the recado negro. This is a dark mixture that includes annatto seeds, cumin, oregano, cloves and allspice. The mixture is also know for s smoky and spicy flavors, which comes from the use of ancho chiles. As you may know, the ancho pepper is the dried form of the poblano pepper. In order to make recado negro, you have to grill the anchos much like you would roast a poblano pepper, that is, over a flame to char the outside. This roasting should be done outdoors because the roasting of an ancho pepper will produce smoke and a lot of it. 

RECADO NEGRO

Recipe from Mexican Authentic Recipes

Ingredients:

12 poblano/ancho peppers

1 garlic head

6 whole allspice berries

4 cloves

2 tablespoons of oregano

1 tablespoon of achiote seeds

1/2 teaspoon of cumin seeds

1/2 cup of white vinegar

1/2 teaspoon of pepper

1/2 teaspoon of salt

Directions:

1.  Roast the peppers.  Discard the seeds from the ancho peppers.  Roast the peppers on the stove, directly over the fire until all of their sides are totally black.  Put the bowl and reserve.  Repeat the procedure for the remaining peppers.  Cover the roasted peppers with water and let them soak for about 10 minutes.  

2.  Toast the spices.  In a frying pan over high heat, add the allspice berries, cloves and cumin seeds.  Toast for about 1 minute until all ingredients are lightly toasted.  Transfer to a spice grinder and grind to a powder.  Reserve the powder.

3.  Blend the ingredients.  Transfer the ancho peppers to a blender and set aside.  Peel the garlic cloves and put them in the blender.  Also add the white vinegar, pepper and salt and blend all of the ingredients very well. 

*          *          *

In the end, as I noted above, this personal culinary challenge did not produce a "black dinner."  More of a deep crimson dinner.  If a Belizean looked at my chimole, he or she would have thought I used a recado rojo rather than a recado negro. Upon reflection, I think that may have been due to the fact that I did not roast the peppers long enough to ensure that they were "totally black." Given anchos are dried poblanos, I was a little hesitant to let them go too long on the grill, lest I be left with charcoal. (I suppose if I had charcoal for anchos, that would have produced a black dinner.)  

I also struggled a little with the pork meatballs.  The use of 3 hard boiled eggs and 2 raw eggs produced a very wet mixture that was difficult to shape into small meatballs.  I think 1 less of each type of egg would have probably worked a little better in terms of getting the right consistency for the meatballs. 

In any event, the soup itself was delicious.  For my first time making this dish, I think that is all that really matters.  Until next time, 

ENJOY!

Cola de Res al Mole (Oxtail Mole)

If I had to identify the one thing about cooking that most intrigues me, it is the mole. A mole is a traditional sauce that is a fundamental part of the cuisine throughout the Estados Unidos Mexicanos.  I have spent some time on my blog talking about the different types of moles and even a little about the history of mole sauces.  I even prepared a mole, a Mole Verde Zacatano, which is one of the simpler moles that comes from the State of Zacatecas.  

However, as much as these sauces have interested me, I have not been able to explore them as much as I would have liked.  I needed something to get myself back on track when it came to learning about these sauces.  That "something" just happened to be a cut of meat that I have never prepared before ... oxtail.

A long time ago, oxtail was actually the tail of an ox.  The ingredient was used in connection with the "nose to tail" philosophy of using all parts of an animal.  The tail often made its way into soups and stews, such as those that were first prepared by French Huguenots and Flemish who lived in Britain during the seventeenth century. Oxtails lend themselves to slow cooking, because they are full of collagen.  As that collagen breaks down, it infuses the liquid with a lot of flavor.  The use of oxtails, especially oxtail stew, has become a feature of many cuisines across Europe, Africa, Asia and the Caribbean. 

But it was one recipe that immediately caught my eye and returns us to the subject at hand: a recipe for Oxtail Mole (Cola de Res al Mole).  I now found myself back on the path of learning about these wonderful sauces.  Two Mexican States lay claim to the original mole sauces: Oaxaca and Puebla. (A third Mexican State, Tlaxcala, also has a claim, but most of the articles that I have read focus on the Oaxacan and Pueblan origin stories.) Puebla is best known for the mole poblano, while Oaxaca is known for seven moles: mole colorado, mole negro, mancha manteles, mole verde, mole amarillo, mole chichilo, and mole coloradito.  Each sauce is a labor intensive effort, following a general pattern that begins with the roasting of whole spices and continues with the grinding of those spices into a paste, the addition of stock at low temperatures until the sauce begins to form. 

I am not too sure where this recipe fits into the mole universe. The recipe comes from McCormick, the global corporation that manufactures and sells a whole range of spices.  I initially viewed the recipe with some suspicion.  After all, I did not think that a multi-national corporation would put much thought into a very particular element of Mexican cuisine. There was no explanation as to the source of the recipe, or its ties to the moles of any particular Mexican State. Nevertheless, the thought of preparing an oxtail mole won me over because it was so different than preparing oxtail stew. 

In the end, it was worth the effort to make this dish.  The recipe provided a good way to introduce myself to the use of oxtail. I can also sort-of notch another effort at making a mole-style sauce. It feels a little like skirting around Oaxaca or Puebla, trying to make an easy mole without diving into the full process of making one of the more traditional sauces.  Still, I have a lot of time to continue building on these experiences.  I just have to find that time.  

COLA DE RES AL MOLE

Recipe adapted from McCormick

Serves 4-6

Ingredients:

• 4 pounds of oxtails, about 12 pieces
• 1.5 tablespoons coriander seed, ground
• 1.5 tablespoons sesame seed
• 1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1 tablespoon ground Saigon cinnamon
• 1 tablespoon sea salt
• 2 teaspoons anise seed, crushed
• 1.5 teaspoons smoked paprika
• 4 tablespoons olive oil, divided
• 2 cups carrots, coarsely chopped
• 1 pound pearl onions, peeled
• 1 cup red wine
• 2.5 cups beef stock
• 3 tablespoons tomato paste
• 2 tablesoons sugar
• 1 ounce semi-sweet baking chocolate, chopped

Directions:

1. Prepare the oxtails.  Preheat the oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit.  Mix the seasonings (coriander, sesame seed, black pepper, cinnamon, salt, anise seed, and smoked paprika) in a shallow dish.  Coat the oxtails with seasoning mixture.

2. Brown the oxtails. Heat 2 tablespoons of oil in a 5-quart Dutch oven on medium high heat.  Add half of the oxtails, cook on all sides until browned.  Remove oxtails.  Repeat iwth the remaining two tablespoons of oil and oxtails.  

3.  Cook the vegetables.  Add carrots to pan, cook and stir on medium heat for 3 to 4 minutes, until golden brown.  Add pearl onions and garlic, cook and stir for 3 to 4 minutes or until lightly browned.  

4.  Prepare the base.  Add wine, stir to loosen browned bits in the bottom of the pan.  Stir in beef stock and tomato paste. Bring to boil. Return oxtails to pan.  Cover.  

5. Braise the oxtails.  Braise the oxtails in the oven for 2.5 hours or until the oxtails are tender.  Transfer oxtails and vegetables to a serving platter and keep warm .

6.  Finish the mole.  Stir sugar into pan.  Simmer 5 minutes or until sauce is slightly thickened.  Remove from heat.  Add chocolate and stir until chocolate is melted.  Skim fat from liquid.  Spoon sauce over the oxtails and vegetables.