Recipes from Abroad // Learning to Make Thai Curry from a Local Chef

In 2000, I took a private class with the chef and owner of Apple’s Retreat and Guest House when I stayed in Kanchanburi, Thailand. It was there that I had the most heavenly green curry ever. My teacher’s nickname was “Apple,” and she’d spent some time studying under a chef in Canada, so she spoke English. I spent the entire day with her, including going to the market so she could teach me how to choose a good shrimp paste, fish sauce, etc. Then we cooked all day. I took notes on how she made her curry, so while not her own recipe per se, this is my interpretation. You really need a mortar and pestle, ideally, to make a traditional curry. Her food was honestly the best Thai I’ve ever had. I loved the recipe so much I used it for teaching Thai cooking to kids when I ran my cooking school in Berkeley.

vietnam-market-thai-curry-3

[alert style="info"]

Kang Keaw Wann’s Thai Green Curry (serves 4)

Ingredients: 2 green Thai chiles, cut into slices 1 green serrano chile, cut into slices (don’t add this with the Thai chiles- it gets added later) 2 stalks lemongrass (about 2 T.), use only bottom two inches, ends trimmed 1 t. galanga, sliced and finely chopped 1 T. shallot, sliced 3-4 cloves garlic, skin on, smashed 1/2 t. kaffir lime peel or equal amount lime zest 1 t. coriander seed 1 t. cumin seed 1/2 of a cilantro root (you may subsitute one stem of cilantro, leaves and all) 2 kaffir lime leaves, crushed in hand 1 t. shrimp paste (kung pe) 1/8 t. curry powder 1/4 t. ground turmeric 2 T.canola or vegetable oil 2 c. coconut milk 1 chicken breast, cut into 1/2” cubes 4 Thai eggplant, stemmed and quartered bamboo shoots blanched green beans, assorted vegetables (do not use onion) 1 T. fish sauce (nam pla) 2 t. sugar 1 t. salt

Directions: Place both Thai chiles in a mortar and pestle and grind to a paste. Add lemongrass and grind to paste. Continue to add the following items one at a time and grind to a paste before adding the next ingredient: galanga, shallot, garlic, kaffir lime.

Toast coriander seed and cumin over medium heat in a small fry pan. Add to paste in mortar. Grind until coriander seed is completely broken down. Add serrano chile and grind. Add cilantro root and shrimp paste and grind. Add curry powder and turmeric and grind into paste. Remove curry paste from mortar and add to a large skillet. Over medium heat, add 2 tablespoons of oil to paste until heated through. Add one tablespoon water and crushed kaffir lime leaves to curry paste.

In a small saucepan, bring 2 cups coconut milk (make sure you add cream from top of milk) to a boil. While coconut milk is heating, add eggplant and chicken to curry paste mixture and saute, stirring constantly, until chicken is cooked, about 2 minutes. Add coconut milk to curry mixture and any remaining veggies that need to be cooked. Heat through, about 1-2 minutes, then add nam pla, sugar, and salt, and bring curry back to a boil. Remove from heat and serve immediately over steamed Jasmine rice.

[/alert]

Recipes from Abroad // Bahamian Macaroni & Cheese

bahamian-mac-and-cheese-2

I boarded a plane for Nassau, Bahamas most excited about the beach. There are few places I feel as rested and relaxed as a stretch of white sand and turquoise water. However, I’m a self-proclaimed foodie too and when I travel I always enjoy exploring new cuisine and sampling old favorites with a new spin. So when I found out that our stay in Nassau would include a meal in the home of a local, courtesy of the People to People program, I was pretty excited. There was only one problem: I don’t eat seafood. What’s the most consumed meal in Nassau? As fate would have it: conch. Fried, battered, steamed, cut up and served in a soup – Bahamians love their conch.

I tried not to worry. Surely there would be at least one or two other things on the menu besides conch. Plus, I’d give it a try. It’s only fair when you are a guest in another person’s home. When we pulled up to the front of our host’s home, darkness already descended, torches burning – I had a good feeling. Our kind and enthusiastic host Lesley must have known I was coming. Not only was there more than conch on the menu, there was my favorite: macaroni and cheese! Prepared as a baked dish, it was cheesy and gooey and not too tart or strong in any way that might be considered anything but memorable. I’ve sampled many versions of this pasta dish over a period of quite a few years and the memory of that macaroni and cheese will stay with me for many more.

bahamian-mac-and-cheese-3

Lesley is a woman of many talents who created a table for us that was just stunning and a meal that was unforgettable. Truly it was beyond what I ever expected to find outside a five-star restaurant during our trip. We stayed long into the night and talked over all manner of subjects. Wine and beer flowed, friendships were formed. Food was the great equalizer that night and we were joined together because of it.

[alert style="info"]

Bahamian Macaroni & Cheese

Note: Lesley warned that “Bahamians tend not to measure when cooking, we go by taste and the feel of the dish when mixing,” but tried her best to come up with proportions for this recipe. Thanks Lesley!

Ingredients:

1 lb box of Muellers (or any other brand) elbow macaroni 1/2 stick of margarine/ butter 1 lb grated cheddar (yellow) cheese 1 1/2 cups herbs (diced onions, sweet peppers & celery) 3 beaten eggs 1/3 cup Tabasco sauce salt 2 – 3 cups of evaporated milk

Directions:

Boil pasta until cooked and tender (approx 15 min). Drain pasta. Add margarine, diced herbs, grated cheese, beaten eggs, Tabasco sauce, evaporated milk and salt to taste. Mix by hand ensuring all of the ingredients are all blended together.

Pour in a greased Pyrex dish or pan. Sprinkle/dust with paprika. Set oven to 350 degrees and bake for 45 minutes to an hour until golden.

Notes: If you want to make it a little spicy, add some chopped scotch bonnet pepper (in the Bahamas we call it goat pepper). You can also add extra grated cheese on top if you want it cheesier. We also use margarine/butter to grease the pan.

Serves 6 – 8 persons. This is a calorie loaded dish. [/alert]

Recipes from Abroad // A Special Sunday Dinner in Moldova

To most, the Republic of Moldova is the great unknown. And rightly so, as it’s a landlocked country about the half the size of Ohio, with a population that is arguably the poorest in Europe. If you were to ask the average person, “Where’s Moldova?,” you’d be lucky to get a response that was even remotely near the actual location of the country. The closest one comes is, “That’s part of Russia, right?,” and that would have only been marginally true in the past, but thankfully no longer. Moldova is a sovereign state and as such, it has its own unique history, language, traditions, and perhaps most importantly, food. But, just as most people will readily admit ignorance of Moldova, it should come as no surprise that the rich and varied cuisine of Moldova is largely unknown as well. For centuries Moldova was governed by foreign empires as diverse as the Ottomans and the Russians. These occupiers brought not only their rule, but also their culture, much of which remains as vestiges in the food that Moldovans call their own. For example, the dish known as sarmale, which is cabbage rolls filled with rice and pork, is called sarma in Turkey. Likewise, the vegetable soup known as borș is clearly derived from borshch (борщ), which was introduced by Moldova’s Slavic neighbors in Ukraine.

recipes-from-abroad-moldovan-food-2

Although much of Moldova’s culinary tradition has been shaped by its past as vassal state, there are several foods that are more local in nature, such as mămăligă and ciorbă. These dishes are also found in Romania, which shares much of its culture with Moldova. Had it not been for the power struggles and land grabs between the Ottoman, Russian, and Austrian Empires, present day Moldova would probably be a part of Romania today. Of the aforementioned foods, the most popular is mămăligă, which is a dish of boiled corn meal, eaten with the hands, that is served with a side of sour cream and shredded cheese. The dish is easy to make, inexpensive, and healthy, save for the gratuitous amounts of sour cream and cheese that often accompany it. Ciorbă, a sour vegetable soup with several variations in ingredients, is likewise easy to prepare, inexpensive, and healthy.

Of the many Moldovan foods, my favorites are mămăligă and chiroște, which is dumplings filled with either cheese (brânză), cabbage (varză), potato (cartofi), and sour cherries (vişine). Chiroște is probably better known as varenyky (варéники) in Ukrainian and colțunași in Moldova. To clarify (or perhaps to further confuse) chiroște is the colloquial name for colțunași, which is a dish that is largely unheard of in Romania, given its Slavic origin. It’s possible that it’s eaten in Romanian Moldova, which is one half of a historic region that is currently split between the two countries (with Iaşi being the former capital). Regardless, it’s a delicious food and easily my most longed for dish from my time in the Republic of Moldova, where I served as a Peace Corps volunteer.

recipes-from-abroad-moldovan-food

While in the Peace Corps, I lived with a host family, which for me was an eighty year old woman whom I addressed as Nanuca. Born to a Ukrainian mother and Moldovan father, her given name is Nadejda Munteanu and she is typically Moldovan, in spite of her Slavic first name (that translates to “hope” in Ukrainian). Having been born in a Ukrainian village and then moving to a Moldovan village as a child (all the while living in what was then Romania), she speaks both languages fluently, in addition to Russian. She’s lived through Greater Romania, the Soviet Union, the post-WWII famine, the death of her only child, a divorce from a philandering husband, and the still shaky transition to both democracy and capitalism. She also survived hosting two Peace Corps volunteers, through which she presumably made use of the store of patience that she accumulated through her years of trials.

Living with Nanuca was an education in life as a near-subsistence farmer in the Moldovan countryside. During growing season she toils from sunrise to sunset to grow the vast majority of the food that she eats. As a result, she knows the provenance of the meals that she cooks and is justifiably proud of what she makes. She, and many thousands more like her, are the unknowing embodiments of the ethos of eating organic and locally sourced food. The irony is that she’d prefer to work less, if opportunity allowed her to free herself from the land. Her daily struggle to turn seeds, soil, and water into sustenance leaves her with very little time to relax. The only respite she allows herself is on Sunday, which is the day she goes to church, visits with her sister, and catches up on her reading.

recipes-from-abroad-moldovan-food-3

Sunday is also the one day of the week that Nanuca devotes more time to cooking, which often results in a more elaborate dish for dinner. She knows my favorite Moldovan food is chiroște with brânză, so she would often serve it for our post church service meal, even though its preparation is more laborious than a typical meal of borș, potatoes, or macaroni. Her preferred topping for the chiroște is a dollop of sour cream and a smattering of fried onions, which she washes down with a small glass of sour cherry compot (boiled and sweetened fruit juice). We’d often eat our Sunday dinner with her sister Ana and brother-in-law Vanea, who make for great company. Try as I might, I could never eat as many chiroște as Vanea, which I’m sure remains a point of pride for the old man (and rightfully so).

I haven’t eaten chiroște since I left Moldova more than a year ago and it’s not for want of desire, either. What stops me is the fear of sullying the memories I have of such a wonderful time and place in my life. I’d be hard pressed to replicate the sensations and feelings that accompany a Sunday dinner with Nanuca. I’m looking forward to returning to Moldova someday to see her again and I’m sure she’ll have a large bowl of chiroște ready for the both of us upon my arrival.

recipes-from-abroad-moldovan-food-5

[alert style="info"]

Chiroște with Brânză, which is also known as Colțunași or Варéники (Varenyky)

Ingredients: 5 ½ cups flour 2 eggs 1 ¾ cups water, warm ½ teaspoon salt 8 oz cheese, preferably feta 2 tablespoons oil ½ onion, finely chopped

In large mixing bowl, combine 3 cups of flour with one egg, warm water, salt and one tablespoon of oil. Mix well. Knead in the remaining flour until smooth and pliable. Let stand 10 minutes. In a bowl, add an egg yolk to the cheese and mix well, then set aside. Next cut the dough into pieces and roll flat (1/8 inch thickness). Cut circles in the dough using a drinking glass. Continue rolling and re-rolling dough until you have as many circles as possible, using additional flour if needed to keep the dough from sticking. Take a dough circle in your palm and scoop in a small spoonful of the cheese filling. Dip your fingers into a little water, fold over and press edges together. Repeat this process until all of the dough is used. This recipe yields dozens of chiroște, but you may store them in the freezer until ready to use.

To cook, add up to 6 to a pot of salted, boiling water. Boil 4-5 minutes, until cooked through and floating. Strain and then transfer to a frying pan with oil and fried onions. Toss, then serve with a dollop of sour cream.

[/alert]