aving lived 7 years with a Southerner, you would think I must have had jambalaya more than half a thousand times. Far from that, it is my first time ever I laid my spoon and fork on one.
America's answer to paella, jambalaya combines West African cooking methods with the ingredients of the New World. I am too lazy to post the recipe, you can find it in one of the following books.
t has already become a tradition: when Floyd comes to visit me in London, we always have a surf and turf dinner. For those unfamiliar with the American ideas of luxury food, it is steak and lobster served on one plate. On the Stateside, it is usually the most expensive entry on the menu ordered on special occasions, like when you really want to impress your date.
The surf part comes in the shape of a lobster tail, to make eating easy. For the sake of a more picturesque display, I like a whole creature, for which you will need special utensils. Other accompaniments include corns on the cob (classic American!), dill and butter dip, Italian salad and potato wedges.
Now the choice of wine is always a bit of a doozie, as you are having red meat and seafood in one helping. I guess the inventors of surf'n'turf were not from the stock who would have seen that as a problem, so I adopt their easy approach too: I just pick whatever wine I fancy at the moment, never minding the convention. Chilean Sauvignon Blanc from the Coquimbo Valley is well-balanced, as you would expect it from a Chilean, citrusy and utterly quaffable.
he smell of freshly cooked rice wakes the Pavlov dog in me. I can't walk past Asian restaurants without my mouth suddenly starting watering. However, many people find plain rice boring. For those, there is coconut rice which is very easy to cook and compatible with a lot of dishes.
For me, coconut rice forever associates with Malaysia, where by the name of nasi lemak it is a national dish. It blends perfectly well with the lush spice-heavy aromas of Malaysian cuisine. I was quite surprised to see my old favourite served in a Colombian restaurant.
Cooking coconut rice is interpreted in a variety of ways but here's my own simple recipe that invariably yields fine results:
Rinse rice seven times until water runs clean.
Put the rice in a thick-bottomed pan and cover with twice as much coconut milk. I stick my finger upright for measurement: if the rice reaches the first joint, the coconut milk should come up to the second one.
Add some fish sauce. I put enough to make the content just slightly salty.
Put the pan on high fire until it boils, then reduce the fire to minimum.
Allow to steam away about 20 min. By all means resist the temptation to peek under the lid! The fat in coconut milk will prevent the rice from burning. Instead it will start frying at the bottom. Remove the pan from the heat when you smell the characteristic fragrance.
Let stay covered for a few minutes, then gently fluff the rice with a wooden spatula and allow to stay for another few minutes.
obsters are the ultimate luxury food, just one notch below caviar. Or, at least, when they are served in restaurants at overinflated prices.
This day and age, however, even Lidl carries lobsters as standard fare, eight quid a pop. Seven if you wait for a sale. At the same price, it may not be as satisfying as a Tesco grilled chicken, a family-size bag of crisps and a gallon of generic Cola for dinner but, hey, there's no perfection in this world!
Frozen lobster is not exactly quite like fresh Maine lobster but it is a very good and honest approximation, especially if you consider the price difference. The Dutch in me can't help getting micro-orgasms just thinking that I pay thirty quid less for the same pleasure as some hedge fund manager in a posh Chelsea eatery. That's how socialism corrupts you. Celebrity chefs keep coming up with more and more convoluted and far-fetched ways of cooking lobster to please the jaded gourmet but I prefer the good old American boiling. Why interfere with the sweet succulence of God's created crustacean when you only need too accentuate it with melted butter and, perhaps, some dry white wine?
The recipe? Boil, melt, crack, eat, be grateful!
P.S. In our age of luxuries becoming commodities, there is probably only one way to tell a real culinary aesthete from a casual supermarket hound. You can only claim to be true blue-blood food connoisseur, if you have the right utensils to eat fancy food in your kitchen drawer.
amn, this is NOT a carrot!" But I just won't have it. It looks and tastes like a baked carrot!
Of course, Floyd knows better. Hailing from Tennessee he was brought up on yam, aka sweet potatoes. In the Soviet Union, yams were not a part of our menu: we had to sustain mostly on frozen cabbage out of toilet bowls (joke!). At any rate, this is my first encounter: under the starry Malaysian sky, in the midst of cool and foggy Cameron Highlands. The night is young. We pick baked veggies from the bonfire ashes: potatoes and these, what think are carrots.
There is really nothing to add to a baked yam, just some butter and salt, the Southern way. Wash it well, rub with a wee tad of oil and bake it in the oven or microwave. When it is soft, it's ready. I scoop out the sweet flesh with a spoon. You can also serve it as a perfect side dish for a Southern or African meal.
discovered blackened salmon on my first trip to Texas. We were loitering in a shopping mall waiting on Aunt Lou to finish her shopping when I saw a sign for a Cajun restaurant. I simply had to check it out because you don't find that kind of food in the Old World. Blackened salmon became love at first bite.
Actually, there is a bit of tragic history behind this dish. French-speaking Acadian settlers in what we call now New Brunswick and Nova Scotia were forcefully evicted from their lands when the English took over in 1713. Some of them came fleeing to Texas. They held on to their traditions, and very importantly, their cuisine.
I admire its rustic sophistication. It combines simple ingredients with inventful spices and more advanced ways of cooking than you would expect from country folks. Although this recipe was invented in the 1980s by Paul Prudhomme, it was since wholeheartedly embraced as a truly Cajun dish.
Cut a whole salmon half-an-inch thick. I use imperial measures here because 1.27cm would be too cumbersome to say.
Melt about 100 g unsalted butter.
Heat a cast iron frying pan very, very hot. I consider it ready for action when it starts smoking. I use a griddle skillet for the lovely sear marks.
Dip salmon pieces in melted butter and sprinkle moderately with Tony Chachere's Cajun Frying Spice or in the mix of 1 tbsp powder garlic, 1 tbsp onion powder, 1 tbsp ground paprica, 1 tbsp black pepper and 1 tbsp white pepper.
Yank salmon on the hot pan. Watch out as it can flare up. Fry about 1 minute on each side.
Serve with fried or baked potatoes.
Here is a piece of traditional Cajun music to accompany this flavourful meal:
The secret of grilled Cajun chicken wings is in the marinade. Crushed garlic, finely chopped shallots and celery give the flavour when toasted in the oven. Black and red peppers add the spice. Lemon juice, white wine and liquid cane sugar create the nice sweet and sour balance while the sugar also makes the skin deliciously brown and crisp. Make sure to cut the skin so that the marinade gets to the meat.
"Increasing intercultural understanding through the appreciation of world cuisines." I hope that my blog will inspire people to open their minds and try other people's food where they live or travel.