Week 21: Bolivia

Laura and I went to Bolivia for part of our honeymoon. It is telling of our unremarkable culinary experience that I can't find any representative photos of the food there, but we did take our favorite photo ever at the Salar de Uyuni, the world's largest salt flat:

The one food that we do remember distinctly is pique macho, which is essentially meat and hot dogs on top of french fries. But that would require frying. Again. Much as I wanted to explore some native foods, it became clear through my research that this really is the most popular distinctive Bolivian dish, found everywhere from the tropical lowlands near Brazil to the Andean towns bordering Peru. So I bit the bullet and bought a deep fryer. Deep-frying is not a tool in my standard cooking arsenal, but too many of these international cuisines call for it, and stovetop frying is messy, difficult, and time-consuming.

We had a record indoor crowd of 11. Noshing regulars Caroline, Kirsty, Dan, and Raven were on hand, as well as our friends Raber and Clara in from Boston, Nick and Miriam (all four of whom went to UChicago with me), and Jeremy. The meal was a rare mid-afternoon one so Raber and Clara could drive back home! And big props to Kirsty for helping a lot in the kitchen, including spud-bashing (apparently that's British slang for peeling potatoes) and dish-washing (I'm sure there's some great slang for that too.)

Yungueño | Brandy with orange juice

The alcohol we encountered in Bolivia was either weak beer or sub-par wine, but apparently the national liquor is singani, a grape brandy similar to Peru's pisco, which is the best we could do without much scouring. We mixed it up with orange juice and simple syrup for a tasty drink.

Salteñas | Savory stuffed pastries | Recipe

The street food de rigeur in Bolivia is the salteña. (Oddly, named after a city in Argentina; Wikipedia's got the scoop.) It's a two-day preparation, as the filling is prepared with gelatin to make for a moist filling without making the crust soggy. And what makes that crust yellow? Annatto seeds, known in Spanish as achiote despite "annatto" sounding plenty Spanish to my ears. Anyway, you heat the seeds in shortening to release the color. The dough, which contained a pound (yeesh) of Crisco, was nice and easy to work with.  The recipe calls for beef; I also kind of improvised a vegetarian version (sans gelatin, of course) with potatoes, peas, and onions. I was really happy with how they turned out.

Lagua de choclo | Andean corn soup | Recipe (in Spanish — I omitted the meat)

Choclo is a type of corn with really big, fat kernels. You can do a lot with it, for example the Incas found out that you can chew it, spit it out, and let it ferment into a type of beer called chicha. We didn't quite do that, instead I took frozen kernels, ground the, in the food processor, and made a stew with bouillon and some root vegetables, finished off with the immersion blender to make it smooth. Filling and mildly flavored, like so much of Andean cuisine.

Pique macho | Fries with beef and hot dogs | Recipe (in Spanish)

So named because apparently, to finish off a heaping plate of this is evidence of machismo. Turned out just about how I remembered it, with mildly overcooked strips of beef, hot dogs that kind of bridge the texture gap between beef and french fry, and  the Monet-like points of mayonnaise and Pollock-like swathes of ketchup coexisting on a meaty canvas. (To be fair, though, in a few restaurants we had the option to have llama instead of beef.)

Pastel de quinua y chocolate | Quinoa chocolate cake | Recipe

Bolivians (where, I'm eager to point out apropos of nothing, the currency is the uncreatively-named yet annoying-to-say-all-five-syllables Boliviano) aren't much for sweets, but Dan gave me the heads-up that Raven's birthday was around the corner so I had to do something. You also might be thinking, "Bolivia? Isn't that where quinoa comes from?" It's true, but in recent years so much of their crop has been exported to fat-walleted countries that this native, highly nutritious grain now costs a lot more than other staples. (I think the only time we ate quinoa when we were there was part of the package lunch out on the salt flats, incidentally.)

Anyway, in homage to this wondergrain, I baked this brownie-like cake the likes of which have probably never actually been seen on un plato boliviano (that's "Bolivian" as an adjective, not the money. See? So confusing). I winged it twice on the recipe: I used King Arthur Flour's Fior di Sicilia in place of half of the vanilla for a luscious orange accent, and since no baking powder measure was given I improvised with a teaspoon and a half and probably should have done a bit more. I thought it was quite nice and finished my piece, but not everyone finished theirs, so maybe the texture was too dense, the orange a bit too strong, or their machismo spent on the main course.

Full disclosure time: King Arthur Flour (whose amazing people I had the pleasure to meet while filming a commercial starring them for Google) sent me the Fior di Sicilia at no cost. (Being a blogger has a few benefits!) I should also point out that the shipment included the 8 inch baking pan which was very nice; the recipe called for a springform pan which I don't have, but due to the corrugation of this square pan, it removed easily.

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And that's a wrap! Next week we're back in the Balkans with Bosnia & Herzegovina. If it's anything like Albanian food, I know we're in for a treat.

Week 20: Benin

Benin, on the West African coast next to Nigeria, was formerly known as Dahomey, after a fearsome warrior kingdom that for a few centuries would sell captives to European slave traders. The countless souls passing through on their way to the Americas brought many foods with them, such as yams, okra, and peanuts, and many people from the Caribbean islands where they landed now live in Brooklyn. Thus, due to a long, strange path of history, I didn't have to leave my neighborhood to buy all the food I needed to cook Beninese.

Our guide through the foodways of this sliver of a country was Anna, who did Peace Corps up in the inland north. Also on hand were her husband and Laura's coworker David, along with Russell, Rachel, Christen, Sophie, Cole, and Mila. Happily, we managed to squeeze ten around the table without too much trouble.

All recipes, except for the chicken, came from the Friends of Benin site, especially the Peace Corps Volunteer Cookbook hosted there. Everything was served on a plate together, and eating with hands was heartily encouraged.

Pâte rouge | Cornflour mush with tomato sauce

Compared to the funje of Angola and the cou-cou of Barbados, this mush was really tasty! It's made with corn flour (the same stuff that tortillas are made from, rather than grainier corn meal), but instead of just water, there's a red sauce of tomatoes, onions, chilies, and bouillon. It had a texture somewhere between bread and polenta.

Igname pilé | Smashed yam

Wondering the difference between yam and sweet potato, or where the word came from? Some fascinating facts on this little page. Anyway, I bought a huge freakin' mitten-shaped six-pound yam at the store, and set to chopping and peeling it, and after a while, my left hand which was holding the yam started itching. Turns out that this is a known phenomenon! Anyway, boiled it up, and then Anna went to work on it, using a wine bottle to smash it up, an effort that required a lot more work than mashed potatoes.

Sauce gumbo | Simmered okra with tomatoes

The Peace Corps Volunteer Cookbook nicknames this "snot sauce," and it's pretty clear why. Slow stewing of okra makes for a gooey mess, and this one was pretty tasty with tomatoes, garlic, chilies, and more of that bouillon. (According to Anna, bouillon has been really good for health in Africa, since it provides iodine which otherwise would be absent from the diet.) Goes great with that pâte rouge, with a pinch of the fingers grabbing a few okra rings.

Poulet béninois | Stewed chicken | Recipe

An interesting process to make this one: boil the whole chicken at high heat until it's about half-done, remove the chicken and cook some veggies in that broth, then pick the meat off the bones and put it back in the pot. Requires no butchering, and makes for a flavorful sauce.

Sauce d'arachide | Peanut sauce

This definitely was the highlight of the meal. Pureed tomatoes lend freshness, peppers give it zing, and peanut butter makes it rich, thick, and tasty. Was awesome slathered over everything.

I tried making a dessert of fried peanut butter, but it totally failed — I really should have started with whole peanuts and blended them myself to separate out the oil, and instead just made burned mushy junk. Fortunately we had some chocolate around to satisfy.

We really dug the music of the béninoise Angélique Kidjo, if you're not familiar do yourself a favor and check her out. She has a shockingly diverse range of musical styles, sings in several languages, and everything is great to listen to.

We're off to New Orleans next weekend (suggestions for where/what to eat welcome!), and when we're back it's an Andean feast from the Plurinational State of Bolivia.

Week 19: Bhutan

The Himalayan kingdom of Bhutan is closer linked culturally, ethnically, and culinarily to Tibet than to India with which it shares most of its border. Given its generally high altitudes, the standard way to cook is with slow simmering over a small fire, with lots of yak butter and cheese for energy in the cold climate. The stovetop is a fine substitute for the fire, but for better or for worse (and, given what I've read, perhaps for better), yak dairy just isn't available in the States.

This was our second West Coast nosh, in rainy Tacoma, Washington, at Laura's parents' place. Happily we were able to find everything we needed (besides yak dairy) in town, even the rare Bhutanese red rice. At the table were Laura's parents Lyall and Eileen, sister Jen, Jen's friend Mike, and Laura's high school friends Ellen and Molly.

Emma datshi | Chilies with cheese sauce | Recipe

This appears to be, without a doubt, the Bhutanese national dish. I found a number of recipes that essentially look like jalapeños with feta cheese, which just seemed too simple. And then I found this one, which claimed to best replicate the taste and texture of yak cheese with a combination of blue and cream cheeses. So that's what I made, cutting down the chilies by 80% to increase the likelihood that at least someone would like it. And Molly did!

Phaksha pa | Pork with radish and bok choi | Recipe

Pork is a staple meat in Bhutan, and this dish has it two ways, fresh and dried. The meat and radish are cooked on super low heat for an hour and a half in plenty of butter, and it's nice and tender.

Kewa datshi | Potatoes with cheese sauce | Recipe

Aditi, the Moth's intern these days, told us about this dish that a Bhutanese student taught her while she was away at school in India. The cheese she described was something goopy in a can, which I attempted to replicate with half Swiss cheese and half queso fresco. Mixed in with the water for boiling, it was kinda like Himalayan mac 'n' cheese, which paired well with the rice.

Chum | Bhutanese red rice

Lucky we're doing United Noshes now and not a few years ago, because this rice has only been imported by Lotus Foods for the last few years, and remains Bhutan's only export to the US (or so I'm led to believe). It's really flavorful and tender but not mushy, we all really liked it.

Cucumber with onion and cheese | Recipe

It's about as simple as salad gets, not even any dressing. A nice, fresh foil to all the other simmered stuff.

Suja | Butter tea | Recipe

And on to the grand finale that we were all kinda dreading: tea made with butter, cream, and salt. But really, it wasn't all that bad. The butter taste was definitely there (but probably not as much as if it'd been yak butter!), and it would have been more palatable with sugar, but hey.

And with that, we are a tenth of the way through the UN countries! We're now on pace to finish in a bit over five years. And we're having a lot of fun.

Week 18: Belize

Belize navidad! In our last feast of the year in Brooklyn, we head to the small yet super-diverse country of Belize. From the creoles in the towns, to the inland Mayans, to the Afro-Caribbean Garifuna in the south, there are several culinary traditions to follow in a country of a third of a million people. So I did my best to incorporate some of all of them, and as I discovered, what ties them all together is coconut milk — four coconuts' worth, in this case.

Our guests were Kirsty, her boyfriend Grant, Elsa, Lisa, and new neighbors Jessica and Alex.

Panti ripa

Thanks to John and Monica for the heads-up on this drink which is apparently all over Belize. It's super-simple: equal parts of coconut rum and pineapple juice. It's sweet, it's smooth, it's refreshing. Not hard to see how it got its name. (Note: this is Monica's photo from Belize, we didn't find these bottles here!)

Hudut | Mashed plantains with poached fish | Recipe

For our first course we went in the Garifuna direction. The starch is boiled and mashed green plantains, which are on the dry side and plenty starchy, but with one ripe plantain mashed in for some sweetness and flavor. On top is tilapia poached in coconut milk. And this time, I made my own coconut milk! It's actually not too hard once you get the damn coconut open and the flesh peeled; after that you just grate it (thank you Cuisinart), put it in a bowl with water, squeeze a bunch, and pour off the liquid. Much tastier, and apparently less fatty, than the canned stuff. Overall a nice dish, the broth was tasty and definitely necessary with the mashed plantains.

Escabeche | Sour chicken and onion stew | Recipe

There were a bunch of things I could have done for the main course, but since we haven't had much in the way of chicken recently, that's what led me to this nice and simple stew. What I didn't realize is just how many onions it was, a whole three pounds. If I were to do it again, I'd cut down on the onions for sure. Anyway, what makes this one tasty is a a whole lot of vinegar, hence the name, which means "pickle" in Spanish.

Rice and beans | Recipe

I was initially skeptical when I saw different recipes for Beans & Rice and Rice & Beans, but there is a difference. The former are cooked separately, while the latter, which you see here, involves cooking the beans, then adding the rice and coconut milk to the pot. That way the rice gets the nice flavor too. Also, the salt pork doesn't hurt! Worked nicely to soak up the broth from the stew.

Potato pound | Recipe

Apparently this odd name is a Creolization of pone, the word for a basic cornbread from US Mid-Atlantic native tribes. Anyway, this hardly resembles a cornbread, but it is tasty: shredded sweet potatoes (the "sweet" part got left out of the final name too!) with yet more coconut milk, a lot of brown sugar, ginger, and nutmeg. I left out the raisins but it was no worse for wear. In fact, it was quite thick and sticky and pretty yummy.

Thanks to our guests who braved the chilly evening to make it over, and warm wishes for happy holidays to all. The next meal is Bhutan, which we'll enjoy of Laura's hometown of Tacoma. (We're leapfrogging over Benin; we'll get there in January with a friend who did Peace Corps there.)

Noshies: Best of the A's

We're sure learning a lot about the foods of the world, and we definitely have our favorites and our wouldn't-do-agains. Laura and I present to you the first of several rounds of the Noshies, our cheers and jeers for the foods we've cooked, eaten, and cleaned up after. Going forward we'll do these after every letter or two. Best cuisine: Argentina, runner-up Afghanistan

It's said that Argentina has no cuisine, only beef. But damn, that beef is amazing, simply salted and grilled indirectly with wood coals. Also, the flow, with round after round of grilled food, made for a really special dinner party. Afghanistan also made a great showing, with wonderfully balanced flavors, textures, and colors.

Best drink: Rakia (Albania), runner-up Armenian brandy

According to Rudina, our Albanian guest, rakia is used for pretty much everything, from fever to festival. With a brandy this smooth and delicious, I'd be willing to try. And amazingly, no hangover. Armenian brandy is also really nice, with a nice amber color and richness.

Best dessert: Pakhlava (Armenia), runner-up Anzac Biscuits (Australia)

Crispy, buttery fillo drenched in flavored sugar. Pakhlava was really as good as it sounds, and came out beautifully to boot. No wonder so many countries have a dessert like this! The Anzac biscuits were rich, well-balanced, and utterly addictive.

Best main dish: Asado de tira (Argentina), runner-up Tavë Kosi (Albania)

This is kinda like winning best film and best actor at the same time. And these cross-cut, grass-fed, wood-grilled ribs, crackly on the outside and rich and juicy on the inside, made a star performance. For the runner-up, we had a choice of several excellent lamb dishes; the yogurty goodness of the Albanian casserole came on top.

Best side dish: Borani Banjan (Afghanistan), runner-up Erdäpfelsalat (Austria)

Garlic and spices complementing tomato and grilled eggplant in this casserole makes for just about all you could ever ask for in a side dish. The potato salad, warm with a meaty, tangy sauce, made for a really lovely, simple dish courtesy of Austria.

Best condiment: Chimichurri (Argentina), runner-up Narsharab (Azerbaijan)

It's hard to imagine many things that could possibly improve slow-roasted meat, but this mix of garlic, parsley, vinegar and olive oil was a huge hit that we'll surely make again. In a very different direction, the pomegranate molasses is like one part sweet to two parts tangy, and pairs so well with lamb.

Best bread: Tendir choreyi (Azerbaijan), runner-up Nan (Afghanistan)

The so-called tandoori bread is on the flat side for an oven-baked bread, kind of like a ciabatta, with a great crust and spongy interior. The grilled nan was lovely, with yogurt for richness.

Worst dish: Escudella (Andorra), runner-up Vegemite on toast (Australia)

Sorry to any Andorrans, but this stew was a whole lot of nice rich ingredients that turned into an uninteresting bowl of weird meat chunks and like five types of grain. And Vegemite, the spreadable yeast extract, well, it was just pretty nasty, guess it's something you have to have grown up with.

Most difficult: Samani halva (Azerbaijan), runner-up Kaskasu bi'l-Lahm (Algeria)

Sprouting the wheat was tedious enough, but extracting the malty juice was really tough, and then I had to stir it for hours on end before it turned into a mush that I couldn't make into balls as the recipe called for. As for the couscous, the stew part was easy enough, but the recipe I followed for cooking the starch called for five hours of really tedious moistening and drying and raking with my hands, all for something that didn't seem to me a whole lot different from just pouring in boiling water and covering.

Most exotic purchase: Red palm oil (Angola), runner-up Armenian string cheese

Red and grainy and opaque and super-thick, with a distinctive nutty flavor, red palm oil was an avalanche of thick oiliness throughout the Angola meal. On the more fun side, the string cheese was not only a delight to unwrap and peel into strands, but it was also really yummy.

Most fun to cook: Aussie burgers, runner-up Funge (Angola)

This is probably the only hamburger I've ever seen that's taller than it is wide! Stacking up a fried egg, grilled pineapple, pickled egg, cheese, bacon, lettuce, and tomato in an assembly line was a real blast. The funge, on the other hand, was just a unique experience, what with sitting on the floor and wildly whipping cassava flour and boiling water into a thick starch.

Best music: Austria

This one is ridiculously culturally inaccurate, but we had a really fun time singing along with The Sound of Music with Laura's family. (This photo is my mother-in-law's head on Julie Andrews' body.)

Best cultural activity: Peeling a pomegranate (Azerbaijan)

As Marsha taught us, at the end of a meal, it's great to linger with friends and family, and slowly peel and eat a pomegranate. You have to do it slowly to avoid squirting yourself with the staining juice, so it's kind of a forced relaxation.

Most pleasant surprise: Dough (Afghanistan)

Salty watered-down yogurt with cucumber chunks doesn't exactly sound very appealing to the Western palate, but I'll be darned, it was really pretty refreshing and not half bad.

That's the first of the Noshies! Stay tuned for the awards for the B's, probably sometime around late March.