Lucy & Herbert Go to Paris: A 1970’s Travel Adventure and a Recipe

Bonjour and bon appetit dear kitcheners! This week the International Vintage Recipe Tour 2020 takes us to France via the kitchen.

This is one of the countries I know best in the Recipe Tour since I spent so much time there as a little girl. Originally, for this post, I was going to write about a child’s perspective of Paris and fill it full of all the things my sister and I loved most about the city when we were small explorers.  But since a little bit of that was already touched on in the Parisian hot chocolate post last December, this time I thought it would be fun to introduce some new tour guides to the blog. I’m so pleased to present my grandparents and your travel escorts for the day, Lucy and Herbert…

Unlike me, who first visited Paris when I was six months old, Lucy and Herbert were in their 60’s when they first set sights on the City of Light. They were both born in the first decade of the 20th century and both had a hard start to life. Had you asked either one of them when they were young if they would ever be walking around the streets of Paris one day they wouldn’t have guessed it.

Lucy grew up in Buffalo, New York, the daughter of German immigrants who worked in the garment industry.  Her childhood was defined by a family tragedy. When she was 7, her mom burned to death in a house fire while cooking dinner in the kitchen. Lucy’s dad in a complete state of grief and guilt put Lucy and her seven brothers and sisters in a local city orphanage.

Immaculate Heart of Mary. Photo courtesy of poloniatrail.com

It was meant to be just a temporary course of action. The orphanage was run by Catholic nuns and her dad told everyone, nuns and kids included, that he would be right back for his family. That he just needed a little bit of time to figure things out. That was the Spring of 1918. The kids didn’t know exactly what temporary meant. A few days passed, a few weeks passed and then a  few months. They waited in the orphanage for their dad to return. Five months in, the Spanish Influenza blanketed the city in fear and death and anxiety. A pandemic ensued but her dad did not come to collect his kids. Thanksgiving and Christmas came. There was no big family meal and no Christmas gifts. There was no sign of dad. A year passed. A second year passed. Lucy remained in the care of the nuns.  The third, the fourth, the fifth, the sixth year passed. By that point, Lucy was 13. The orphanage only educated girls up until the 8th grade, so school was over for her. No dreams of high school. No college.  During year seven of life in the orphanage, her dad got remarried, yet he still didn’t come to collect his kids.

There are fuzzy family stories that the children were retrieved one by one in order of age, (the oldest ones first) and placed with various members of the family. The boys were taken out first because they could earn a living and contribute financially to whatever household they ended up in. Lucy was 5th in line, a girl, with limited education and an inability to earn an income in the same way as her brothers. Lucy remained in the orphanage until she was 16 years old. That’s when her aunt Martha in Chicago sent for her so that Lucy could help take care of Martha’s two kids. At last, after nine years, Lucy left the orphanage, taking her two younger sisters and brother with her to Illinois.

Herbert’s dad, Joseph, working in his teamster days delivery hay and coal. This photo was taken around 1905.

Herbert grew up in a working class family in the city of Chicago. His parents were both natives of the city  and his grandparents  were both immigrants from Germany. His dad was a teamster for hay and coal in the city when Herbert was born. Money was always tight and there were days when food was scarce or even non-existent. The family never had enough to eat. There were nights when Herbert went to bed with a rumbly belly and no idea when it would be filled again. When Herbert was 10, his  dad landed a job as a fireman for the City of Chicago. It was a much more dangerous line of work than being a teamster, but it offered a steady paycheck and a future pension upon retirement – both very attractive incentives for someone who struggled to feed their family.

Herbert’s parents, Joseph (in his fireman uniform!) and Mary Katharine.

Herbert had a younger brother, Charles, who died when he was a baby, a sad event in his family that that no one ever talked about. Herbert didn’t believe in rehashing stuff, especially the difficult, hardscrabble years of his growing up. Herbert liked to say that the important part of life began when he met Lucy.

Sparks flew for the two of them when they met at a party in Chicago, just a few years after Lucy had moved to the city. They were both in their late teens/early 20’s at that point. Herbert took one look at Lucy and was dazzled by her pretty smile. Lucy fell in love with Herbert’s kind eyes, a distinguishing feature that everyone responded to.

Before Herbert became a fireman  he worked at the Chicago Tribune in the circulation department. This was where he worked at the time he met Lucy.

On a summer Saturday in 1933, just before my grandfather’s 25th birthday, Lucy and Herbert were married in a Catholic church in Chicago.

Herbert left his newspaper job and became a fireman like his father.  This was during the Great Depression, and like his father experienced, the firehouse offered  a steady paycheck, and a pension for retirement.  Haunted by his hunger years as a child, all Herbert wanted was to provide a safe, satiated and comfortable life for his new bride, full to the brim with happiness and adoration that she deserved.

Because she grew up in the orphanage without any guidance or training in the domestic arts, Lucy was not a typical, traditional wife of the 1930’s. As an adult, she loved clothes and fashion and following the latest trends. She loved to socialize and play cards and spend time with her sisters.  No one taught her how to cook, care for a home or drive a car. But all this was okay with Herbert because he loved to cook, was fine with housecleaning and loved to drive.  All he wanted to do was to protect his family, make sure there was always enough food on the table  and enough money left over at the end of the day to afford a few small niceties. For eight years, Herbert and Lucy tried to have a baby. After several miscarriages, my dad was finally born alive and healthy just after they celebrated their 9th wedding anniversary. Finally their family felt complete.

When my dad was a few years into his airline executive career, he arranged a four week European tour for his parents that would take them to England, France, Italy  and Germany. This was the Autumn of 1970, and it was an extravagant trip to say the least. My grandparents had never traveled outside of the United States before, and Europe at that time was a cosmopolitan wonderland of glamour and sophistication.

My dad used all of his perks and called in all sorts of favors so that it would feel like a trip of lifetime for Herbert and Lucy. He wanted to give them all the bells and whistles he could manage – a taste of luxury and decadence that they had never known before. It was his way of spoiling them – a thank you  of sorts for all the wonderful love and affection they spoiled him with as a child.

The plan was to spend a week in each country with home base stays in London, Paris, Rome and Munich. In London, Herb and Lucy stayed at the Lancaster Hotel, had dinner with the royal tailor to Prince Phillip and went sightseeing all around town.

Meet family friend and royal tailor to Prince Phillip, Edward “Teddy” Watson, who charmed the socks off my grandmother:)

The French portion of their trip involved side excursions to Nice and Monte Carlo, but the bulk of their time was spent in Paris where Herbert fell in love with the food and the history and Lucy fell in love with the shopping and the culture. They both really enjoyed walking around the city too and did almost all sightseeing on foot,  even though my dad had arranged a car and driver for them each day.

Thanks to their collection of travel photographs we can head back in time and take a little sightseeing trip right along with them as we all discover what Paris looked like in 1970.

The view from the top of the Eiffel Tower.

The tour starts with a bird’s eye view of the city as seen from the top of the most iconic structure in all of France – the Eiffel Tower.  I’m not sure who the photographer was on this trip, Herb or Lucy, but some shots had a little Vivian Maier-esque quality to them. That’s the Tower’s shadow reaching towards the bridge there in the photo. Vivian style photography makes a return at the flower market one morning too…

In addition to first time sky views of the city, another great vantage point and an interesting perspective of Paris are the views from the River Seine. From there, Lucy and Herbert marveled at a whole host of  buildings steeped in history.

The Belle Jardiniere is the oldest clothing store in Paris, dating to 1824. They were the first to offer ready made clothes off the rack, ushering in a whole new way to conveniently build up your wardrobe.

Another historic gem on the river is the Palais Bourbon, designed in 1722 for the daughter of King Louis the XIV, who was the longest reigning monarch (72 years!) in all of French history. It was designed in country house fashion with gardens modeled from particular sections at Versailles. The site for the house was found by the lover of the King’s daughter who built his own palace next door (how convenient!). Like most of the old buildings of Paris, as it passed through time, many inhabitants and influencers including Napolean,  added their own enhancements or improvements to the building. In the late 1700’s, the exterior facade of Palais Bourbon was changed to reflect ancient Greek architecture. By the time the French Revolution occurred the residence left private hands and served as a government building, which it still remains to this day as you can see from this 2019 photo…

50 years later, and it still looks exactly the same!

Even though he lived centuries ago, there are nods to King Louis XIV all over town. At Versailles, he’s depicted in an equestrian statue which was completed in 1838, which also happened to be seventy years before Herbert was born.

Herbert especially loved admiring all the statues around Paris. The city boasts over 1000,  so he didn’t have to look far for something exciting to see. They turned out to be his gateway into learning more about French history, which in turn led to learning more about other country’s histories too.

The Luxor Obelisk statue (located in the Place de la Concorde) for example spurned a whole new curiosity for him in ancient Egypt, which is where this statue came from. It was an exchange of gifts between France and Egypt in the 1800’s. France gave Egypt a clock and Egypt gave France the Obelisk. In 1936, just three years after Lucy and Herbert were married, the Obelisk was given historic monument status in France. Herbert loved little fun facts like that.

Lucy liked the statues too and learning all about their history from Herbert, but when it came to street sights, what really turned her head were things more at eye – level (a.k.a. the shops). While in London, she purchased a classic trench coat, which looked very chic on the streets of Paris. In France, she purchased a batch of silk scarves. She wore the scarves and the trench continuously for the rest of her life back in the States, reminders of her fun glamour days spent in Europe.

Other iconic sights and sounds topped their best memories list too. There was the famed Paris Opera House which first opened in 1875…

The gardens at Versailles…

It was such an elegant place, Herbert wore a suit!

The domed roof of Sacre-Coeur (also known as the Basilica of the Sacred Heart), is the second most visited site in Paris. It was a must-see for Herbert and Lucy too, who were devoted to the Catholic faith their whole lives. It stands in the Montmarte section of Paris where all the famous artists and writers lived in the 19th and 20th century.

Likewise, the Cathedral of Notre Dame (or what I thought it was) held equal charm.

But upon closer inspection via window shapes and entry doors I think this is another church in Paris altogether. Can anyone identify it? Whether you are religious or not, everyone can appreciate a Parisian church for all their architectural details and built-in statues. Herbert and Lucy visited a new Catholic church every Sunday while they were in Europe, which was a true testament to their faith since most masses were said in Latin and lasted hours.

The beautiful angles and proportions of the Pantheon hover over part of the city and tell quite a story of architectural design. The dome, which fascinated Lucy in particular is actually three domes in one and made entirely of stone. Originally it was going to be topped with a statue of Saint Genevieve but a cross was selected instead. Genevieve was the patron saint of Paris,  and also happened to be Lucy’s middle name. Genevieve is also known as one of the patron saints of generosity, a characteristic Lucy herself contained, and is often depicted carrying a loaf of bread. Followers of Genevieve’s work created an institution in her name in the 1600’s  to care for the infirm and to educate young women. I wonder now if Lucy felt a special kinship to Genevieve because of all she went through at the orphanage.

When Herbert and Lucy passed by and under the Arc de Triomph they were viewing it in all it’s glory, as it had just been thoroughly cleaned and bleached five years before from a century’s worth of soot and grime. Herbert gave it a thumbs up in the cleaning department!

In between all those photos of grand buildings and popular sites I was hoping to find a cafe shot of Herbert and Lucy dining street-side with a glass of wine or a coffee. The only one I found among the mix though was this one very blurry photo of my dad (who met up with his parents at various points in the trip while on break from business meetings) and Lucy.

Even though it’s blurry, I still like the charm of this scene, with the cafe’s egg yolk yellow awning and shutters and the tomato red chairs.  I suspect this was taken in a little country town near Nice on their drive from Paris to Monte Carlo for Part Two of the French adventure.   I like to imagine that they ate something simple yet delicious that day at that cafe. Something not unlike the French recipe we are making to accompany this post today.

Like the cafe, this is a sunny, simple dish that is easy to make and requires little time to prepare. It is called Eggs in Sauce Gribiche.  Like some of the buildings in this post and even our tour guides themselves, this sauce aspect of this recipe dates all the way back to the early 1900’s when famous French chef Auguste Escoffier deemed it an important and versatile companion to hard-boiled eggs.  Age-old yet timeless, it is a new favorite in my kitchen and I hope it will be one in yours too.

The French section of the New York Times International Cook Book which we are following for this Recipe Tour, was one of the largest chapters in the book containing over 113 pages of traditional dishes from France. I chose this one because it is so representative of Herbert and Lucy. It’s simple and accessible, peppered with fresh goodness, and easily enjoyable in a bevy of dining situations. At their core, Lucy and Herbert were ideal characters. Ones who despite early hardships and traumatic events, chose to nourish relationships and radiate nothing but love and affection. At the same time, they also knew how to add a little splash to life to make it colorful and interesting. In the case of this recipe, they are both the comforting, reliable hard-boiled eggs and also the attractive and inventive sauce that is drizzled over.

So many French recipes combine rich, buttery flavors that simmer or saute for lengthy amounts of time. This one is lighter and brighter on the palate and works for several kinds of meals from brunch to lunch to appetizers, or even serves purpose as an afternoon snack or a light dinner.  When making it, I recommend sourcing the freshest ingredients possible, which might mean avoiding the grocery store altogether if you can help it. Home grown garden herbs, farmers market tomatoes, and local eggs will by far surpass anything you could find at the regular grocery store when it comes to bringing out the beautiful flavors of this dish.

Eggs with Sauce Gribiche

Serves 6

1 teaspoon finely chopped parsley

1 teaspoon finely chopped onion

1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh thyme

1 clove garlic

2 teaspoons Dijon mustard

1 egg yolk

Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

2 tablespoons wine vinegar

1 1/2 cups olive oil

3/4 cup seeded, peeled, diced tomatoes

6 hard boiled eggs, peeled and halved

2 tablespoons finely chopped chives or scallion greens

Chop the parsley, onion, thyme and garlic. Add the chopped mixture to a small mixing bowl along the mustard, vinegar , egg yolk, salt and pepper.

Begin beating all ingrediants together with a whisk and gradually start adding the oil. Add it a little at a time, beating rapidly until the sauce begins to thicken. When mixture is thickened and smooth it is ready.

Crack and peel the hard-boiled eggs and cut them length-wise in half.

When you are ready to serve, stir the tomatoes into the sauce and then spoon the sauce over the egg halves. Sprinkle with chives or finely sliced scallions.

Served at room temperature, this a great dish for a hot summer day or an impromptu picnic, as it can be whipped up in a matter of minutes. It is also a lovely alternative to deviled eggs, lemon vinaigrette dressing or its close cousin – Hollandaise Sauce.

My most favorite photo of my grandparents first time-time trip to France is this one taken on two park chairs with the Eiffel Tower in back. My grandmother reminds me of Julia Child here…  smiling, carefree, lighthearted. And I love my grandfather’s hand on her knee. They were married for 37 years when this photo was taken. It’s really nice to see that things hadn’t changed that much since the day they met. Lucy was still flashing that pretty smile and Herbert was still protecting her with kindness and affection.

Ten years and two months later, Lucy died unexpectedly in a hospital in Florida. Her cause of death was an enlarged heart. That seems pretty fitting.  Her and Herbert shared a big love.  For a life that started out with so much neglect and abandonment I’m glad that Lucy got to finish it with so much joy and comfort. And I’m glad she got to experience Paris and all the magic the city holds.

Cheers to love that lasts through thick and thin. And cheers to France for playing such a big, wonderful, important role in the life and love of my family. And cheers to Grandma Lucy and Grandpa Herbert. It’s been a tough week in the world these past few days. I hope we can carry forth, in the true spirit of Herbert and Lucy, with nothing but kindness and generosity for all.

Join me next time for Week 18 of the International Vintage Recipe Tour 2020 as we head to Germany to make the biggest meal of the Tour so far! It’s three days of preparation for this cooking adventure, so rest up! See you soon.

 

Embrace Your Inner Bula: You’re On Fiji Time This Week!

For all the travelers out there who are feeling a little bit housebound these days and are missing your exotic ports of call, this post is for you. For anyone who finds themselves in a food rut, tired and bored by all the usual dinnertime choices, this post is for you too. And for anyone feeling especially grumpy, frustrated or lackluster when it comes to navigating this strange roller coaster of a turbulent world, this post is also for you.

That may sound like a lot of importance to place upon on the shoulders of one food related blog post but the salve for all these wayward troubles can pretty much be soothed in one word thanks to our featured destination of the week.

Tonight’s post takes us to the beautiful islands of Fiji, via the kitchen, to make a very quick, very easy  fish dish that tastes of coconuts and day dreams and relaxed coastal living. Welcome to Week 16 of the International Vintage Recipe Tour. Welcome to Fiji, dear kitcheners!

There is no doubt that Fiji is one of the most picturesque places in the world. But there is more to it than just sand and sun and beautiful beaches. Beyond all of the stunning panoromas, swaying palms and exotic flowers, there lives something even more beautiful. So beautiful in fact it can’t be translated via photograph.

It’s not a tangible item that you can hold in your hand or buy with your credit card or gift to a friend. It’s not a specific place you can visit, or a hotel you can check into, or a body of water you can bob around on. It’s not a rainbow, or a waterfall, or a sunset, or a mountaintop view or a brightly colored flower. It’s not a hike, nor a sunbathe, nor a visit to the spa.

Fiji’s exotic flowers.

It’s a feeling.

An inward attitude. A manifesto. An intrinsic, deeply rooted way of being. Something completely unique to the 22 islands that make up the country of Fiji.  It’s called bula.

Technically referred to as a greeting similar to saying hello, bula carries much more significance than a simple salutation. It resonates as a way of life for anyone lucky enough to visit or live on one of the islands. It also happens to be one of the most commonly talked about things that people miss most about Fiji once they leave the country.

First bula starts out as a pleasantry. A sincere wish for happiness, good health and a zesty energy for life. Then it subtly transforms from a word you are saying into a feeling you are emoting. It becomes an infectious enthusiasm of spirit. A radiation of joy. An exuberance of attitude. Regardless of current circumstances or situations, in spite of challenges and setbacks, embracing the bula spirit means expressing happiness, appreciation and friendliness. In other words… smiles and good nature for all. Whether they are strangers or loved ones, coworkers or customers, kids or adults, neighbors or newcomers, this extension of outward positivity has labeled Fijians the friendliest people in the world.

Practically a national language in and of itself, bula is a trademark of the island’s hospitality. It encourages warmth and welcome. Good cheer. Grateful attitudes. And a delight in the moment right in front of you. Besides their unique heritage and their idyllic landscape, it is the characteristic that Fijians are most proud of and what sets them apart as a community from everyone else in the world.

This type of jubilant reminder couldn’t have come at a better time. Especially for this week in regards to the Recipe Tour. As I’ve mentioned in a few posts over the last couple of months,  it’s been a bit of a challenge to keep the Tour on track since the tornado in March and then the pandemic right after. As you all know, it’s easy to get caught up in the global events unfolding each day and then to let that news cloud your mind, dampen your spirit, and affect your disposition. Sometimes writing about food while all this chaos is going on in the world seems trivial and I struggle with the desire and importance of wanting to share a good recipe while so much catastrophic stuff is going on.  But learning about Fiji’s bula spirit this week and then making one of their traditional island recipes really let in a breath of much-needed fresh air and perspective, both literally and figuratively.

If you saw the sneak peek video for this week’s recipe on Instagram, you may have noticed that it looked a little bit different than all the other videos from all the other weeks. That was due to a rainstorm that thundered its way through the preparation parts of this  week’s film shoot.

It was one of those storms that comes on quickly, toting dark grey clouds the size of whales and sucks up so much natural light, you have to turn on every single lamp in the room just so you can see what you are doing right in front of you. Rolling in just a few minutes into the cooking process, right as I began sauteing onions in a pan for the cream sauce, this storm turned the kitchen so dark and moody, the photo/video shoot had to immediately go on location (aka the balcony) so that I could grab as much natural light as possible. Otherwise the whole cooking process would have resulted in murky colors and grainy details. Fortunately for this purpose, there’s a small nook on the balcony between two potted herbs and some blooming flowers that is impervious to damp weather. It’s the one little dry spot that can accommodate an impromptu photoshoot without ruin to camera or food subjects.

In the video, you may have noticed what sounded like crashing waves roaring above the Fijian music playing in the background. That was actually the sound of the wind and the rain from the storm.   The heavy rain and the 60 mile an hour winds that eventually would come later that evening, kindly held off long enough so that the entire series of food photos were done from start to finish before I had to scurry around the balcony and bring everything inside.

It can be a little bit stressful cooking under the pressure of weather and good light, especially when preparing a dish that doesn’t offer any leeway for prolonged preparations. Generally, it takes anywhere from 3-6 hours to prep, photograph and video each week’s recipe for the Tour, depending on the level of difficulty and the cooking steps involved. Over the course of the last sixteen weeks, I’ve developed a nice little routine when it comes to making and photographing the recipes. But this week, the storm threw a wrench in the rhythm. This dish couldn’t sit around waiting on the weather to pass nor could it be made halfway and finished up the next day.

Instead of getting all flustered with the change in routine and getting caught up in some silly forced notion of perfectionism when it came to the photos, I thought about Fiji and how they might have handled this situation. I bet the first thing they would have done would be to smile and then say bula. Which is exactly what I did. Instead of fighting the weather, I appreciated the new way of thinking that the storm presented.  I didn’t fret over the lack of light and the frenzied pace of cooking. Even though there were mad dashes outside to photo and then mad dashes back inside to cook some more. I went with the flow  and managed a new rhythm. I poured sauce over fish while clouds poured rain over me. And I smiled about it. I embraced the bula spirit.

And you know what happened, dear kitcheners? Everything turned out just fine. Delicious in fact. Do you know what else happened? This was the first time in 16 weeks that a Tour recipe was prepped, prepared, photoed, cooked and on the table for presentation in under an hour. That’s a new first in the Kitchen! All because the rain storm scurried me along. Funny enough, this is the way of typical rain storms in Fiji as well – quick to arise, heavy in outpour, brief in stay. I love that Lady Nature decided to add her own little bit of Fijian authenticity to the cooking day.

Storm clouds over Pacific Harbour, Fiji

Like the islands themselves, this Baked Cod recipe is colorful, comforting and a breeze to make (rain or shine!). It’s really three recipes in one, each broken down into segments  – cream sauce, coconut milk, and cod, but since we’ve already made fresh coconut milk in Week 8’s trip to Ceylon, I substituted canned coconut milk for fresh, which shaves 45 minutes off the prep time. The cheddar cheese in the cream sauce can be yellow or white, depending on your own preference as it doesn’t affect the pearly color of the sauce either way. I also chopped up an extra  1/4 cup of the onions and green pepper for garnish at the end. That step added a nice fresh crunch to the finished dish. Had we not had the rain storm to contend with, this dish would have taken about 20 minutes to prepare. True to its island culture and the bula spirit,  it’s a joy to make.

We’ll start with the cream sauce, since you’ll want to make that first and just keep it warm on the stove while you assemble the cod in the baking dish. Again, please excuse the photos in this post, they don’t really capture beauty of the dish nor the process as I would have liked but you’ll get the idea. I loved this recipe so much I’ll happily make it again (on a sunny day!) so that I can take some new photos and enjoy a taste of the islands once again.

Fiji Cream Cream Sauce

1 tablespoon butter

3 tablespoons finely chopped red onion (plus 2 more tablespoons more for garnish)

3 tablespoons finely chopped green pepper (plus two more tablespoons for garnish)

1 1/2 cups coconut milk

salt to taste

1 1/2 tablespoons cornstarch

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Melt the butter in a saucepan. Cook the onion and green pepper, stirring, until the onion is wilted (about 4-5 minutes). Add 1 1/4 cups of the coconut milk and bring to a boil.

Blend the remaining 1/4 cup coconut milk with the cornstarch  and stir it into the simmering sauce . Simmer for three minutes, stirring constantly.

Baked Cod in Cream Sauce

Serves 4

2 cups boneless cod filet, cut into 1″ inch cubes

1 1/2 cups Fiji Cream Sauce

1/2 cup freshly grated cheddar cheese

Arrange the cod pieces in one layer in a baking dish and pour the sauce overall.

Sprinkle the cheddar cheese over the top…

and bake 30-40 minutes or until the cheese is melted and lightly browned. Once ready, remove from the oven and let sit for 5 minutes before serving.

Because of Fiji’s geographic location, its local cuisine has been influenced by India, the Polynesian Islands, Asia and most importantly by what grows naturally well on the islands. Coconut, sweet potatoes, root vegetables and seafood are common staples. Since there were no serving suggestions when it came to this recipe, I paired this creamy fish  with black rice for both its dynamic color and its fragrant, slightly nutty taste. This turned out to be an ideal companion as the flavors blended together really well and the rice soaked up some of the sauce. A little sprinkle of freshly chopped purple onion and green pepper on top of the fish added a splash of color for garnish.

Even though the preparation for this dish was a little haphazard, by the time we were ready to try it, the bula spirit had fully presented itself.  Once the first bite was taken, it really did feel and taste like a rejuvenating dinner that had the power to soothe a number of situations. Placing a colorful flower on the plate lent an exotic island aesthetic, ideal for the wanderlust travelers feeling stuck at home. The creamy coconut milk, an alternative to a more common, basic white sauce or cheese sauce, added an out of the ordinary flavor component, offering fun inspiration for all the bored cooks out there.  And the green, purple and black hues of this dish added a delightful dose of color therapy (read more about the power of this in Week 10: Columbia) which couldn’t help but brighten up even the most lackluster soul. I found the comfort level of this meal to be a 10 (out of 10!) so for all you eaters feeling grumpy or out of sorts, this dish will hopefully raise your spirits in an equally comforting way as well. That’s the magic of food in Fiji for you! That’s the magic of the bula spirit inside you!

Cheers to Fiji for showing us how to embrace our inner bula by embracing and radiating warm affection and positivity, despite the challenges that face us. Next week, we’ll be heading off to the gourmand capital of the world, via the kitchen, as we celebrate Week 17 of the International Vintage Recipe Tour in France. See you soon!

Fiji Photo Credits: Timothy Ah Koy, Vijeshwar Datt, Ishan, Roberto Nickson, Prem Kurumpanai

Dancing Around History in Dahomey: The Cakewalk, Cannibalism and a New Kind of Pizza

Do you guys remember the events of Easter weekend? The postponement that turned out to be a flip around? The mustard that was supposed to be an entree? The switch in the travel schedule that sent us 3,200 miles in the opposite direction? If you answered yes, then you’ll know exactly where we are landing this week. If you are new to the blog or uncertain as to our past travel trajectories, you’ll find us here today…

…in Dahomey, our next stop on the International Vintage Recipe Tour 2020. Not sure where Dahomey is? Don’t worry, at the start of this project, I didn’t know either. Let’s zoom out a bit and get a grasp on which section of the world we are talking about…

Dahomey is located in the crook of the African continent on the western side in between Nigeria and Ghana. If it still doesn’t sound familiar to you, there is good reason. Dahomey hasn’t existed on a map since 1975. These images above are from a 1948 school atlas, but if you looked on a modern map today, you’ll find the Republic of Benin in Dahomey’s place. Like Ceylon becoming Sri Lanka, Dahomey went through it’s own name change and declaration of independence in the 1970’s.

But before all that happened, Dahomey, had a bit of a tormented past. Originally colonized by the French, it was populated primarily by local tribes who were often at war with themselves.  Fighting was such a part of the culture, Dahomey even boasted a large tribe of professionally trained female warriors known as the Amazons. Numbering in the thousands, these ladies were ready to defend their land and customs at a moment’s notice and were the most feared women on the African continent.

The Amazons of Dahomey. Image courtesy of hadithiti.africa. Read more about them here.

Folklore states that centuries ago Dahomey was named after Chief King Dan who favored the local customs of cannibalism and human sacrifice. The name Dahomey literally translates as “the belly of Dan” and was a direct reference to greedy behavior and overstepping one’s boundaries.

Thankfully our recipe for this week does not involve any cannibalistic tendencies, but there was an element of gruesome prep work that I suppose Chief King Dan would have totally approved of. Before we get to the recipe though, there is one remarkable connection I wanted to share with you that forever ties the word Dahomey into popular culture. This achievement is not based in cooking, cannibalism, or human sacrifice, but instead based in song and dance.

In 1903, the first African American musical comedy to be written and performed by an all black cast was staged on Broadway. The play was called In Dahomey and was about a pair of con men, a lost treasure and a plan to colonize Western Africa.

Combining elements of vaudeville theater, minstrel shows and comedic storytelling, In Dahomey became such a popular show in both the United States and England, it enjoyed an unprecedented four year run and an international touring schedule.

Starring the talented trio of George Walker, Bert Williams and Aida (aka Ada) Overton Walker, it was also the first African American play to have its sheet music published…

In Dahomey sheet music. Photo courtesy of Songbook

The play was a major accomplishment in the progression of musical theater and also a major source of inspiration for the African American community. One of the elements that turned In Dahomey into such a crowd-pleaser was the inclusion of a popular style of late 19th century dance called the Cakewalk.

Started among plantation slaves in the American South, this precision style of boxy line dancing was similar to ballroom dancing. Cakewalk began as a bit of theatrical mockery directed towards the stiff and stuffy formality of dances enjoyed by the plantation owners. But it quickly turned into a tightly choreographed routine that was lauded by both the white and black communities for its elegant moves and high-stepping style.

As popularity of the dance spread between plantations, the cakewalk turned into a competition style performance of pride, dignity and talent.  Competitions were deemed special events, participation was encouraged, and winners usually received a freshly baked cake as a prize for best dancer.

Aida Overton Walker (1880-1914)

Aida Overton Walker was considered the queen of the cakewalk. Her performances alongside her husband, George Walker and their creative partner Bert Williams made them a famous trio in the theater world in the early 1900’s. A true believer in bridging  cultural differences through dance, music and the performing arts, Aida died tragically at the age of 34, but not without leaving a great impression.  This is a five minute theatrical interpretation of her extraordinary life and the contributions she made to the performing arts…

The overture for In Dahomey is sweeping, melodic and eight minutes in length. If you wanted to listen to it while you prepped your ingredients for this week’s recipe, it’s the perfect length for the amount of chopping that needs to be done. Here’s a link for listening…

 

The reason the Recipe Tour got so turned around last week was because of these little swimmers…

The fish store is closed in the neighborhood until at least mid-May, so sourcing fresh regional shrimp was a new challenge. Luckily, the farmers market saved the day with their new drive-thru Saturday market and a vendor that offered fresh (albeit frozen) Gulf Coast shrimp. As you can see in the image above these guys came scampi style with their heads intact. If we were in France or Italy this week, this might have been an interesting attribute to a regional recipe, but in Dahomey, the technique called for diced shrimp, so off the heads had to come. Chief King Dan approved:)

This was the first time, I ever removed the heads from any creature and I must admit, it was not my most favorite activity. Powering through this aspect of food prep, I couldn’t bring myself to photograph this tumultuous process for the post. Instead, I gathered all my bravery, followed this how-to video and avoided looking the little guys in the eye. Eventually my cleaned up shrimp looked like this…

On the menu this week, we are making Shrimp Dahomienne, an easy shrimp and pork saute that I thought was going to turn out one way but actually turned out another. The serving suggestion for this recipe was a ring of pureed black-eyed peas, so originally I thought Shrimp Dahomienne was going to be a soupy stew-like dish similar to Beef Bourguignon or Mushroom Marsala. Instead, it turned out to be a rich, dense sauce with a thick consistency closer to tomato puree than soupy stew. A breeze to make, it requires minimal prep work, just one saute pan, and an unusual combination of ingredients. The only thing I changed as far as the recipe goes was switching out ham for pancetta (just a personal preference), but other than that made the recipe as is. Until it came to the serving suggestion part. More on that after we go through the recipe.

Shrimp Dahomienne

(serves 4-6)

1 cup finely chopped onion

1/2 cup peanut oil

1 cup raw shrimp (about 1 dozen medium to large size shrimp), cut into 1/2″ inch cubes

1 clove garlic, finely minced

3/4 cup ham, cut into 1/2″ inch cubes (I used diced pancetta)

1 bay leaf

1 cup canned tomato sauce

1 hot red pepper, seeded and chopped

Cook the onion in the peanut oil until it just starts to brown. Add the shrimp and cook , stirring constantly, about 5 minutes.

Add the garlic and ham and cook for another five minutes longer, stirring.

Add the remaining ingredients…

and cook about 15 minutes longer, stirring frequently.

Remove from pan and serve.

As you can see from the above photos, the last 15 minutes of cooking greatly reduces the sauce. By the time it is ready to pull off of the stove, it resembles more of a chunky chutney with just trace amounts of peanut oil lingering behind. That’s what reminded me of pizza sauce. Dark red and dense like a can of tomato paste, this mixture is so full of wonderful, deep, rich flavors. The pancetta adds salt. The shrimp adds a mellow hint of the sea. The red pepper adds zesty spice. The onions and tomatoes add a sweet acidity. I think the pureed black-eyed peas would have been too mushy a consistency with this mixture. Their grayish color not as appealing.  So instead, I spread this shrimpy  mixture on pizza dough and topped it with slices of fresh mozzarella, and basil from the garden…

and then popped it into a 500 degree oven for 10 minutes.

Just before serving I squeezed a little fresh lemon juice over the whole pizza and added a couple more leaves of fresh basil. I love when your instincts turn out to be right on target. This Shrimp Dahomienne pizza turned out to be delicious! The pizza dough added satisfying crunch along with a complimentary foundation for all the flavors, and soaked up the oily pools of sauce. I’ve never really been a fan sea swimmers on pizza before, but this recipe definitely has me rethinking shrimp on a pie.  The shrimp taste was subtle and when combined with a squeeze of lemon and a sprig of fresh basil, it tasted more bright than briny.

An easy, casual meal, pair it with a cold, crisp glass of pinot grigio and you have a new type of springtime/summertime pizza that is lightly seasoned with scents from the sea.

One of the things I love so much about exploring these vintage recipes are the little surprises that show up each week. Just this one recipe alone opened up a wealth of newly discovered history that combined musical theater, dancing, women’s history and African culture. I learned a new kitchen skill (how to behead a shrimp) and in turn that made me made me appreciate these 12 swimmers much more for the life they gave to this recipe.

There’s a lot of talk these days about everyone getting restless at home because of the quarantine. I understand. It’s hard not to feel caged in. Especially when you are missing your friends and family, your restaurants and parties and get-togethers and happy hours. If this is you and your boat, let’s pass the time by sharing some culinary adventures. Coronavirus or not, cooking knows no boundaries. Surprises ensue. Stories begin. I’d love to hear what you guys are making these days. If you have any fun recipes or anecdotes you’d like to share about food-related things you’ve discovered during quarantine, please comment below. I’d love to feature them, here on the blog, in a special upcoming Quarantine in the Kitchen edition. Hope you’ll be a part of it!

Next week we are heading off to England via the kitchen to make a sweet treat of a dessert that celebrates the start of strawberry season. See you then!

The Switch Up, Homemade Mustard and How Danish Modern Came to be a Household Name

Vintage Africa travel poster

If you stopped by today to visit the culinary world of Dahomey, you are in for a little switch. Due to the inability to source all of the African country’s recipe ingredients in time for this week’s post, Dahomey will be postponed until next week.

In its place, we will be traveling to Denmark today as Week 13 of the International Vintage Recipe Tour 2020 continues. This little obstacle in the schedule turned out to be nicely fortuitous – as it is Easter weekend and thanks to Denmark, we will be making a homemade condiment that often appears at the Easter dinner table – especially if you are serving ham for the holiday.

In today’s post, we will be making homemade mustard with nothing more than a handful of common pantry staples.  It takes five minutes to make, and after a quick rest in the fridge, it’s ready to enjoy. We will also be discussing the rise in popularity of the design aesthetic that made Denmark famous around the world – Danish Modern – and how one man’s ideology in the 1920’s turned it into a universal trend in the 1950’s.

Teak credenza by Ib Kofod Larsen

Most vintage aficionados will be familiar with the modular, natural wood look of classic mid-century furniture. It’s been a popular choice in kitchen and dining room decor for the past 20 years thanks to stylish modern yet retro television shows like MadMen, who glamorously showcased its minimalist appeal. But you may be surprised to learn that the Danish Modern aesthetic actually began long before the 1950’s.  Thirty years prior to that, it started taking root in the mind of this guy…

Kaare Klint (1888-1954), architect and furniture designer

… Kaare Klint. A Copenhagen born architect, Kaare was in search of something different than the Bauhaus style that dominated the trendy furniture marketplace in the 1920’s and 1930’s.

A Bauhaus desk

Bauhaus furniture, with its nod towards industrialization and the sleek style of steel and metal components, was pretty to look at it but it wasn’t very functional and it wasn’t very comfortable. Similar to avant garde clothing that makes it way down the runway at fashion shows, Bauhaus was eye catching, stylish, stimulating and conversation worthy but when it came to practicality in everyday real-life, it wasn’t very accommodating. Kaare, taking note of these Bauhaus shortcomings, approached furniture design in a different way.

Kaare Klint Safari Chair

Using his architectural mindset, Kaare’s concept was to design pieces that had simple lines that were thoughtfully engineered for comfort first and form second. He threw the words honest and beautiful and democratic around, but ultimately, what he really wanted to do was to make furniture that had palpable integrity. This was a novel idea. Up until Bauhaus and Kaare Klint decided to change things up, furniture had been pretty traditional. Variations of the same style, fabrics, materials, and shapes had stayed relatively the same for centuries. A chair was a chair was a chair in regards to shape, size and comfort. But when Bauhaus and then Danish Modern came along, things changed.

Kaare Klint circle bed

By studying the size, shape and form of the human body, Kaare came up with a series of furniture designs that turned out to be both remarkably beautiful and remarkably comfortable. Utilizing neutral colors, natural materials and warm shades of wood, Kaare designed the antithesis of the cold, metallic style of the Bauhaus movement. He made furniture that fit. Comfortably.

Kaare Klint deckchair

Embracing the skill and tradition of local Danish cabinetmakers, Kaare combined architectural sensibility with artisan craftsmanship. These cabinetmakers were trained in the centuries old techniques of traditional woodworking that had been passed down to them through generations. Highly skilled at their craft, they were true artisans who proudly and carefully produced pieces of furniture by hand, with the intention that their pieces would be built to last a lifetime. Kaare appreciated that level of detail and devotion and aspired to reproduce the same attributes in his furniture designs.

Kaare Klint table

As the collaboration between Kaare and his cabinetmakers took shape, this new style of design began to develop. Kaare, confident in the end result that was produced, taught his philosophies in design classes, inspiring students to think architecturally about functional furniture. Eventually a tribe of  architects, designers and cabinetmakers all worked in the same vein together utilizing Kaare’s concepts.  Before long, the art councils in Denmark began promoting this remarkable style of furniture, describing it as a Danish handicraft, something that celebrated the unique cultural landscape of Denmark.

Danish designer Hans Wegner (1914-2007) started out as a cabinetmaker’s apprentice before eventually becoming a world renowned furniture designer. This is set of his 1950’s era dining chairs, very much in keeping with the Danish Modern aesthetic inspire by Kaare Klint.

With a style defined by simplicity, comfort, quality, warmth, and beauty, it wasn’t long after the Danish art councils started promoting this aesthetic that interior design journals and magazines began taking notice. Coined Danish Modern, industry writers and promoters began exalting the attributes of this natural, symbiotic relationship between form and function.

This 1959 magazine article from House Beautiful extolled the “practical beauty” of Danish Modern design.

As awareness grew, Danish Modern began to attract a certain type of enthusiast from countries beyond Denmark. In particular in the United States, it became very popular in the 1940’s and 1950’s with young, urban intellectuals in the middle to upper class bracket.  These enthusiasts lived in the major market cities of New York, Los Angeles, Chicago and San Francisco. They appreciated a fresh perspective, admired unique artistry, and favored outside of the box thinking. As a culturally savvy group, they believed in the beauty of fine art and looked for ways to incorporate it in their daily lives in thought-provoking ways. They filled their spaces, not with factory mass produced furniture, but with one-off pieces that made a statement about their personal taste and their artistic temperament.

A Chicago city apartment photographed in 1953.

Danish Modern furniture offered more than a comfortable recline – it offered a lifestyle choice that showcased honesty, purity and naturalism, all qualities of the 1950’s culture that Americans aspired to.

During the 1960’s other furniture companies took note of the rise in popularity of Danish Modern and started reproducing their own versions. But these replica pieces were not of the same quality in construction as the originals. These were mass produced pieces designed to sell fast for the trendy buyer market. They were made by unskilled factory workers on assembly lines, not by mastered hands in Danish workshops.

1962 Basset Furniture Danish Modern ad declaring that yes, you can afford it too!

Traditional Danish designers and cabinet makers acknowledged these knockoffs but were uncertain how to evolve past the competition. Even though the knock-offs were inferior products, they ultimately became the downfall of the original Danish Modern marketplace. The Danish cabinet makers knew only their skill. The Danish designers and the Danish architects knew only the style they had created. None could see what the future of Danish Modern looked like past what was already being designed in the same similar vein. There were no new concepts waiting in the wings of the Danish Modern style post 1960’s.

By the 1970’s, the market had become saturated with knock-offs, covering over the original handcrafted beauties that had been built in Denmark. These knockoffs became to too familiar, too commonplace and too accessible in the furniture market which muddied the playing field.  Value was placed in the fast selling of the pieces rather than the appreciation of the fine art form. As with most trends, consumer tastes changed in the modern furniture buyer of the 1970’s.  They were no longer interested in furniture that was meant to last a lifetime. They liked the freedom of being able to redecorate every few years, and of not being tied down to one type of design aesthetic. By then, the Danish Modern style was viewed as outdated. Consumers wanted color and bold shapes. They wanted eclectic designs and chaotic patterns.  They wanted glass and laminate and plastic and mirrors.  They wanted post-modern and pop culture and furniture that spoke of the disco era. Essentially, they wanted everything that Danish Modern was not.

A 1970’s era living room.

It wouldn’t be until the early 2000’s that Danish Modern and the original philosophies behind it would come to be appreciated again. Just like those early fans in the 1950’s, consumers in the 2000’s were searching for the well built, the hand crafted, the artistic. They were searching for the thoughtful story and the artisan eye. They were searching for designers like Kaare Klint and the school of artists that grew up around him. Suddenly Danish Modern bloomed again. And just like in the 1960’s and 1970’s so did the knock-offs.  Now the midcentury market is bubbling over again, saturating so many interiors we barely notice it anymore. These days there is definitely rumbling in the design world that midcentury is on its way out again and that something completely new is starting to take hold. Many say it is the return to the femininity and florals of the 1980’s but with a stronger, bolder, darker, more modern edge.  Consumers today are looking for something beyond the grey, marble, industrial minimalism that has dominated the interior design world for almost twenty years. Burgeoning trends point towards the use of color and eclectic collections once again. It’s the emergence of an aesthetic that has yet to be completely defined, but, if history tells us anything, it’s that somewhere there’s a Kaare Klint type designer just waiting to reveal something new and something remarkable.

While we wait to see what unfolds in the furniture design department in this new decade, we’ll make some mustard, Danish style. Like the furniture, this is a recipe that has integrity and simplicity. It involves seven ingredients and one bowl. It makes one cup and lasts in the fridge for weeks. It has spicy, sweet flavor and tons of possibilities when it comes to pairings. If a mustard recipe could be equated to a well built chair – it would be this one.

Danish Mustard

(Makes 1 Cup)

1/2 cup dry mustard

7 tablespoons granulated sugar

1/4 cup boiling water

3 tablespoons vegetable oil

2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon cider vinegar

Combine the mustard and sugar in a bowl. Beat in the boiling water to make a paste. Beat in the remaining ingredients. Let cool and refrigerate.

Because this has a honey mustard type taste to it, it would be excellent served with ham, or dolloped on top of a soft mellow cheese like goat or brie, or slathered on sandwiches of chicken and lettuce. Really though you can enjoy it in any type of situation that calls for mustard. Like any homemade condiment, this is a wonderful and delicious and surprising alternative to store-bought mustard and contains only natural ingredients without any added preservatives. Just like a good horseradish, it packs a little punch in the back of your throat and tickles your nose.

Cheers to natural products, whether they be furniture or foods:) Hope this weekend that your feasts are full of flavor and your baskets plentiful. Happy Easter!

Join us next week, as we circle back around to Dahomey for week 14 of the International Vintage Recipe Tour 2020.

 

Cabbage and Kraslice: Two Kitchen Comforts of Traditional Czechoslovakia

Happy April and happy Saturday dear kitcheners. Thank you for your patience this week while I took a couple of extra days to get this post together. As I mentioned on Instagram the other day, Friday has become the new Wednesday around here and then it became Saturday, at least when it came to this post:)

Adjusting to the new normal, this was the first full week that our farmers market has been officially closed, so sourcing two of the ingredients for this week’s recipe turned into a little more of a treasure hunt than anticipated. This was also the first week, we had to wait in line at the grocery. Have you guys experienced this yet? It wasn’t too bad – just about a 20 minute wait each time, but it did feel strange. While I waited I thought about all the people who waited in soup lines during the Great Depression and the bread lines in Russia just two decades ago.

Last year at this time, I was buying homemade bread, local strawberries and spring lettuce at the farmers market.

Since the farmers market is within walking distance and open seven days a week, I hadn’t realized how spoiled I’d become when it came to shopping every few days for food for the Vintage Kitchen posts or for household staples. But now that it is recommended that we all shop a week or two in advance, it has taken a little bit (actually a lot!) of extra organization on my part. So thank you for bearing with me.

Today’s post takes us to Czechoslovakia, a country that as of 1993,  is no longer called that. Two decades ago, the country split into two parts, forming two separate nations and came to be known as the Czech Republic and Slovakia. I can imagine that on the official day a country declares a name change there is lots of celebrating going on and a renewed sense of optimism as to better opportunities ahead. In keeping with that notion, this week we are celebrating too. Today is Week 12 of the International Vintage Recipe Tour 2020, which means we hit the three month mark and are officially 1/4 of the way through our year-long global culinary adventure. How exciting!

Clockwise from top left: Armenian Stuffed Meatballs; Picadinho a Brasileira; Fried Fish Wrapped in Paper; Colombian Beef and Vegetable Stew; Rum Punch; Maple Walnut Tart

So far we’ve made meatballs in Armenia, talked about hometown pride with Viktoria in Austria, and danced with Harry Belafonte in Barbados. We have also cooked our way through the wildfires in Australia, the tornado in Nashville and the outbreak of the coronavirus in China.

Clockwise from top left: Santiago Pork Roast; Fondue Bruxelloise;Sauerkraut Soup; Queen Mother’s Cake; Ceylon Curry; Viennese Chicken

There have been movie and book recommendations, a vintage playlist to set the cooking mood and a craft project designed to spark good memories. Together we have celebrated lunch time, cocktail time, dinner time and dessert time.

Clockwise from top left: We toured Austria with Viktoria; read The Hundred Year Walk in Armenia; discussed the history of Fondue in Belgium; discovered new old art in Brazil; danced to Calypso music in Barbados and met the Queen who inspired a cake in Australia

We’ve made food for cold weather, for hot weather, for mountaintop vistas and seaside beaches. We’ve fried and flipped, boiled and baked. It’s been action packed these past three months for sure.  The world is definietly not the same place that it was in Week 1, but I hope the Recipe Tour has been as fun and delicious for you as it has been for me.

Clockwise from top left: We saw the Comfort Tree in Canada; watched Liz Taylor light up the big screen in Ceylon, made floating paper lanterns in China, decorated Easter eggs in Czechoslovakia, discovered the effects of color therapy in Colombia; and learned all about tropical fruit from a Cuban farmer.

This week we’ll be exploring another beef based recipe, Czechoslovakian Sauerkraut Soup, a healthy comfort food that is not only great for balancing your digestive system but also adds a healthy dose of color and Springtime flavor to your table.

Czechoslovakian-style Sauerkraut Soup

On the cultural side, we are back in the craft studio, this time decorating Easter eggs in age-old Czechoslovakian fashion. Like the Chinese floating paper lantern project, this heritage craft is also laden with symbolism and positivity to help keep our spirits and our spaces filled with hope.

This time, we’ll start with the soup first, since it is a slow cooker of a recipe.  Requiring about 3 hours of cooking time and 20 minutes of vegetable prep, this so far was the easiest of the dishes to make in the Tour. Basically hands off (with the exception of the initial vegetable prep), the oven and the soup pot do all of the work here, leaving you free to do something fun (like Easter egg decorating!) while it cooks.

Featuring the humble, hearty cabbage (a fridge staple that stores easily for two weeks or longer) and quick roasted beef bones (a freezer staple that stores for months), this recipe is quarantine friendly, feeds a crowd and freezes beautifully. A better, more flavorful version of vegetable soup, thanks to the tangy addition of sauerkraut and earthy bone both, it is both a comfort food and a healthy powerhouse loaded with immune boosting vitamins and minerals.

Czechoslovakian cuisine, like Armenian food, was highly influenced and inspired by its nearby neighbors Germany, Poland, Austria and France, all of whom lent their culinary flair to Czech kitchens throughout history.  Predominately fans of an animal-based diet, the traditional Czechoslovakian home cook strived to master a dynamic range of rich flavors by combining starchy foods with a variety of vegetables and meat. Their cooler climate called for more durable produce and cold weather crops like winter greens, cabbages, carrots, onions, squash and potatoes.  The kinds of food that keep you feeling warm and fed on a cold winter day.

One of the challenges I encountered this week in the ingredient sourcing, was the beef bones and the short-ribs. Normally, I prefer to cook with grass-fed beef, which I usually purchase at the farmers market. Since the market is closed for the time being due to the pandemic,  it turned into a little adventure around town to see which grocery store would offer an equivalent. The first grocery carried no grass-fed beef. The second only offered grass-fed ground beef. The third store, finally was the ticket. In case you are struggling with this same scenario in your town, I am happy to share that Whole Foods carries  a variety of fresh grass-fed beef cuts. There, I was able to find the short ribs and the beef bones all in one spot.

The  most interesting twist on this recipe was the inclusion of both pickled sauerkraut and fresh cabbage. Sauerkraut is a centuries old food, first appearing on menus in the 1600’s, but this recipe makes it taste fresh, vibrant and modern. Hearty without being heavy, this soup is a delicious choice for springtime weather that yields warmer days but cooler nights. Pair it with slices of whole grain bread and butter or toast points and you have simple fare made from fridge, freezer and pantry staples.

Sauerkraut Soup

(Serves 8-10)

2 lbs short ribs of beef

2 lbs. beef bones

1 cup chopped onion

3 carrots, coarsely chopped

2 cloves garlic, peeled

1 teaspoon dried thyme

1 bay leaf

2 quarts water

2 1/2 cups canned tomatoes (one 20 oz. can)

8 cups shredded cabbage

Salt 7 freshly ground pepper to taste

3 tablespoons lemon juice

3 tablespoons sugar

1 lb. sauerkraut, squeezed dry

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

Place the short ribs, beef bones, onion, carrots, thyme, garlic and bay leaf in a roasting pan.

Bake for about 20 minutes until the meat is brown.

Transfer the mixture to a large soup pot. Add a little bit of water to the roasting pan to dissolve the caramelized pieces and then pour the pan juices and contents into the pot. Add the remaining water, tomatoes, cabbage, and salt and pepper to taste.

Bring the mixture to a boil. Skim the fat from the top. Simmer for one and one half hours. Add the lemon juice, sugar, sauerkraut, and more water if necessary. Cook for one hour longer. Serve with sour cream.

With Easter less than two weeks away, I thought it would be fun to pair this post with a craft that Czechoslovakians are famous for… decorative Easter eggs. Also known as symbols of rebirth and new life, eggs are a good way to add a comforting sign of hope to your home.

Whether you celebrate the holiday or not, this is a fun seasonal project that you can keep year-round if you blow the eggs out before decorating them. Heavy in symbolism, these delicate eggs contain all sorts of hidden meanings in their design and color arrangements.  According to Czech culture, green symbolizes nature and growth and is believed to offer protection from illness. So I chose that color scheme as a way to visually fight back against the coronavirus.

Traditionally, Czechoslovakian artisans used beeswax pens, etching needles or straw to make designs on their eggs before dipping them in naturally colored dyes. I used a pencil and markers to draw my designs since I didn’t have a beeswax pen.

I also reverse dyed my eggs (taking them from brown to white) using a 1 cup to 1 cup vinegar and boiling water solution. The eggs boils for 20 minutes in this vinegar bath and then, once rinsed under cold water they can be fully wiped clean of their brown color. Here’s what one egg looks like halfway through the 20 minute boil…

Traditionally in Czechoslovakia, red was the most popular color egg, because it was the easiest color dye to make (thanks to berries and beets!) and represented beauty, health love and vitality.

Over time and many experiments, a rainbow of colors added their own special sentiment. Yellow symbolized good fortune since it was the color of grain. Blue represented heaven, white equaled purity and black symbolized ceremony.

Regarded as a highly skilled art form known as Kraslice (meaning embellished egg), Czech-style egg design takes years of practice, patience  and a steady hand to master. Many are still hand-painted today but some are mass produced as well to meet demand in the global marketplace. Designs range from simple sprigs of flowers or branches to highly ornate patterns, detailed animals and interlocking shapes.

Examples of different designs and colors. Photo courtesy of the Association of Painters of the Czech Republic.

Most Czech egg designs feature balanced imagery that is has been laid out in grid fashion beginning with a horizontal line and a vertical line that intersects in the middle of each egg like a cross.

They look complicated but once you start sketching them out, they are actually fairly easy to replicate. Here are some templates designs to follow or to help inspire your creativity…

Last year I painted Easter eggs with gold metallic paint. This year, I am adding to that collection with the new Czechoslovakian designed eggs. It will be fun to see what next year’s designs will bring and to watch this collection grow year after year!

The gold and white eggs were last year’s Easter craft project. Now the Czechoslovakian style eggs will be added to the collection this year.

Cheers to Czechoslovakia for adding two new comforts to our kitchen in the form of soup and eggs! Hope this post keeps your belly full and your creativity fed this week:)

Join me next week for Week 13 of the International Vintage Recipe Tour, as we make our way 2,800 miles south from the Czech Republic to Dahomey, our third country in the Tour that has been renamed due to changing history. In the meantime, stay safe, stay healthy and eat your soup:)

An Interview of Botanical Interests in Cooking and Cuba By Way of Miami

Now that the days are getting longer and the temperatures warmer, it seems like everyone’s fingers are itchy for a little bit of gardening these days. This week, I’m happy to present a special botanical post to satisfy all the green thumbs out there.  In the kitchen, our around-the-world culinary escapades take us to Cuba, where we are making Santiago Pork Roast, a slow food recipe that takes two days to prepare from start to finish.

And in this post, you’ll also meet one of our blog readers, Jorge J. Zaldivar, a Cuban-American farmer who is dedicated to preserving Florida’s horticultural history in Miami via food and fruit. Welcome to Week 11 of the International Vintage Recipe Tour 2020!

That’s Jorge on the left and Chef Daniel Boulud on the right!

There are quite a few readers of the blog who live in Florida and enjoy gardening and adventuring around their state. I’m hoping this post in particular will offer some new insight into their favorite hobbies. Jorge is a font of knowledge when it comes to botanicals and is anxious to share all that he has learned in regards to horticulture, cooking and connecting with others in this tropical landscape.

In addition to being involved in the farming of heirloom guava varieties, Jorge is deeply connected to promoting the tropical fruit community of South Florida in so many interesting facets. He operates PG Tropicals (creators of locally sourced artisanal products including tropical fruit jams and jellies), writes a food blog called Sub-Tropic Cookery which features the recipes and botanical adventures of vintage cookbook author Alex D. Hawkes (1927-1977), and previously sat on the board of the Rare Fruit Council International (RFCI) headquartered in Miami and the South Florida Palm Society (SFPS). I caught up with him to discuss his Cuban heritage, his passion for plants and his inherent interest in food history. He also recommends some of his most favorite places to visit in Miami and shares a few Cuban themed eateries in his town that all newcomers to South Florida must check out. Let’s see where he takes us…

In The Vintage Kitchen: Tell us a little bit about yourself.

My name is Jorge J. Zaldivar, I was born in Miami, Florida to two parents from Cuba’s Oriente province. Cuba had six provinces prior to the communist regime reapportioning and dividing everything. My mother’s side is from Manzanillo, the birthplace of el Son, one of the island’s most important musical genres.

A vintage map of Cuba circa 1947
No other country has originated a greater number of musical styles and genres than Cuba, this is due to the melange of interesting cultures, particularly African and their rhythms. My father’s side is from Banes, Cuba where the U.S. Airforce U-2 airplane was shot down in 1962. I currently live in Miami-Dade County and travel between home and the farm which is just North of the Florida Keys in Homestead’s Redland.
Redland, located at the entrance to the Everglades is South Florida’s farm country. It’s known for its red clay soil and unique agricultural products that do not grow anywhere else in the United States. Photo by Jorge J. Zaldivar
Tell us a little bit about your Recipes Lost blog. What inspired it and what attracted you to the culinary explorations of Alex Hawkes?

While collecting cookbooks and hunting for Caribbean recipes, not only did I discover Time Life’s Foods of the WorldThe New York Times Int’l. Cookbook and various other titles, I found Alex D. Hawkes’, A World of Vegetable Cookery (1968). I noticed in the flap that Hawkes was from Coconut Grove, my very same zip code in fact. I made it my mission to learn about his story which has resulted in researching and writing his biography which is laden with stories and recipes from my hometown, many botanically inclined and filled with wonderful anecdotes.

American botanist and cookbook author Alex Hawkes (1927-1977) worked extensively throughout his life in the study of tropical horticulture including that of orchids, palm trees and bromeliads. He also traveled frequently around the Caribbean islands collecting authentic recipes. Photo courtesy of Sub-tropic Cookery.

His other titles are highly recommended such as his books on Rum (1972), Shrimp (1966), Caribbean and Latin America flavors (1977) and his coveted South Florida Cookery (1964). The Sub-Tropic Cookery blog was my dedication to Alex D. Hawkes and some of his recipes, this was done via my Recipes Lost project.

As a fellow Craig Claiborne fan, what do you like about his recipes and/or his approach to cooking?

Craig Claiborne (1920-2000) – longtime Food Editor at the New York Times and the inspiration behind the International Vintage Recipe Tour

As a cookbook collector the goal was to try and put a finger on this guy with loads of books and a New York Times column. Hawkes is more of my personal Claiborne but the two did meet and speak for an interview. He was mentioned in Craig Claiborne’s: A Feast Made for Laughter.

the-new-york-times-international-cook-book
The vintage 1971 cookbook that launched the International Vintage Recipe Tour.

In the end what I like most is how important the NYT Cookbook became. Of all his books the NYT Int’l Cook Book is my favorite aside from the work he did with Pierre Franey for Time Life’s Foods of the World. I have not pursued their books together as much as I should have. There’s always time for 60-Minute Gourmet and the many evolving themes of cookery.

It’s wonderfully fascinating that you are a part of the Rare Fruit Council International in Miami. How you are involved there? How did your interest in rare fruit come about?

I have served on the Board of the Rare Fruit Council Int’l. (RFCI) in Miami. As I began studying our history I fell in love with the story and am getting documents ready to formalize an archive for the Council. By becoming the official Historian it will allow members to notice that these documents are not just historical and sitting here. I intend to help spread awareness of the RFCI’s efforts to promote rare tropical fruits in this region and to put all this wonderful information to good use again.

I discovered the RFCI when I found their famous Tropical Fruit Cookbook, the rest is history. I am also the 2020 President of the South Florida Palm Society (SFPS) and Member of the Tropical Fruit & Vegetable Society of Redland (TFVSR) at the Fruit & Spice Park.

Tell us a little bit about PG Tropicals. Do you make all the preserves yourself? What inspires you about it? 

PG Tropicals is the partner that purveys fruit from Guavonia Guava Grove in Homestead’s Redland Agricultural Area. All of the preserves are made in small batches, generally to order which are purveyed to a portfolio of dedicated chefs and artisans committed to the same ideals I believe in. As we say “Keeping it local”, which comes with other benefits such as lowering our carbon footprints and positively affecting our community.

PG Tropicals’ platter of sliced fresh guava and Redland Guava marmalade

What is your most favorite tropical fruit and why?

This is as difficult as the infamous “What’s your favorite mango?” question. The reason I neglect answering this question is because the seasonality of fruit allows most divine fruits to shine at the proper time of the year. It’s just perfect in design right? Just imagine, it’s the peak of winter and you have had a great year sampling plenty of longan, lychee, sugar apple, guanabana, mamey, abiu, and plenty more to boot.

Tropical fruit display at Redland’s Fruit & Spice Park

When you haven’t tasted mango for some months and you find a bag in the deep freeze, victory. When your taste buds catch a glimpse of that flavor and your mouth lights up that’s when you notice how special each fruit is, and how mango although not the best, is certainly in a class of its own when you experience that taste again. I find it difficult to choose just one. I am also fascinated at how the fruit is seasonal, not all plants are ever bearing. It shows us some patience.

Did you study botany/agriculture in school or did you explore these fields of interest on your own?

I studied Elementary Education at Florida International University, I also DJed on the student radio station and had a quite successful classic 1970s disco / dance radio program. I am lucky to have grown up in a family that always had plants everywhere, whether the nursery they operated pre-Hurricane Andrew (1992), and our yards.

Under the palm trees in Miami, FL. Photo by Matthew Hamilton.
My grandfather left us a considerable number of palms and curious fruit trees. My father loves to grow plantains, sugar cane and citrus. His brother ventured more towards the ethnobotanical route filling in all the loose ends with medicinal plants and herbs in addition to various fruit crops such as mamey, avocado, Bixa (annatto), mango, guava, guanabana, canistel, mammee apple and many more worth exploring and enjoying. In Cuba, my family lost various acres of land which was originally given to my great grandfather for fighting in the war of independence against Spain. As my father has told me, “From here to the end of the block and much more.”

Would you ever consider moving to Cuba? 

I wouldn’t consider moving somewhere that is simply 90 miles, and a boat ride away from lunch or supper. More Americans lived in Cuba pre Castro, or pre revolution as we say. This is known because of the major interests and financial investments U.S. corporations had on their neighboring island. I would not choose to reside in Cuba until they hold democratic elections and acknowledge the nationalization of property that occurred. It is the largest mishandling and misappropriation of U.S. assets in history. As an American I cannot let that go unnoticed. It’s hard to be on one side of the Atlantic Ocean, is what I am trying to say.

How does your Cuban heritage influence your cooking?

I always wonder if Chinese people or other cultures around the world explore “international” food as much as we do here in the United States. What I am trying to describe is that I find it very humbling to imagine that aforementioned Chinese example, cooking traditional food and fare in China, without the need or desire to explore other cuisines. This is what I consider humbling, because these people may not know anything else, yet here in the U.S. where options are plentiful, I along with other cooks are simply trying to emulate the flavors that encapsulates these humble Chinese cooks and many other cultures around the globe.

I am enamored by finding my own Cuban flavor and trying to get it just right, in the eyes of my grandmother and those that have perfected these recipes for us to say, “that tastes Cuban.”I strive for perfecting the flavors of Cuba to ensure that our heritage is not offset by a few distasteful events in our island’s history. 

Photo by Tijana Drndarski

Who first taught you how to cook?

I learned to prepare Pan con Ajo aka Garlic Toast by mashing garlic with a pestle, then olive oil and salt is added to the mortar. This is to be slathered on Cuban bread, which is then optimally toasted. This is the teachings of my parents and grandmother. I recall my abuela’s / grandmother’s first apartment in Miami Beach prior to the cultural wave that took over and transformed it into that hyper busy city it is today. I recall sitting on the counter with her learning to peel garlic.

Tell us a little bit about life in Miami. If one of our readers was to visit the city for the first time, what five places would you recommend that they visit first?

1. Fruit & Spice Park in Homestead’s Redland, Miami’s bucolic countryside to visit the only botanical park in the United States that showcases several hundred species of rare tropical fruits that grow nowhere else in the continental United States. Please say Redland to appease the locals, as Redlands is a city in California! 

Fruit & Spice Park is situated on 37 acres and boasts over 500 varieties of fruits, vegetables, spices, herbs and nuts as well as plant specimens from around the world.

2. Los Pinareños Fruit Stand who has been open for business in Little Havana’s Calle Ocho (8th St.) for over 40 years. Situated directly adjacent to the eternal burning flame dedicated to the Cuban Bay of Pigs 2506 Brigade, on Cuban Memorial Boulevard & Memorial. The proprietors are from Pinar del Rio in Cuba hence the name “Pinareños”. A region famous for their Guayabita del Pinar rum made with guavas, among other things. 

Los Pinarenos. Photo courtesy of progresoweekly.us. Read more about this history of this fascinating market and fruteria here. 

3. Azucar Cuban Ice Cream Co. Since you are already on Calle Ocho (8th St.) drop by Domino Park across the street and get some of Miami’s freshest and most unique flavors of freshly made ice cream.

Azucar Ice Cream Shop. Photo by Sarthak Navjivan

4. The Kampong in Coconut Grove, is open by appointment only. This is the home of Dr. David Fairchild. The foremost food explorer that changed that American palate more than any other individual in modern history.

Facing Biscayne Bay at Dr. Fairchild’s Kampong. Photo by Jorge J. Zaldivar
Photo by Jorge J. Zaldivar

His thousands of plant introductions not only gave Washington D.C. their famous cherry blossoms, but our plates are indebted to his introduction of broccoli, soybeans and countless other staples the American diet simply couldn’t live without. (Drop by Ariete nearby or Chug’s Diner for some Cuban snacks.) 

American botanist, photographer and author Dr. David Fairchild (1869-1964)introduced over 200,000 exotic plants to the United States as well significant agriculture crops to our modern diets including kale, quinoa and avocados.

5. HistoryMiami Museum is certainly worth the visit in Downtown Miami. Go here before everything else, even though it’s last on the list! So it helps you understand the city you are about to explore.

HistoryMiami is Florida’s largest history museum in the state.

Also check out Edible South Florida for the most updated and relevant info to South Florida. They are the only FREE local print magazine available. I am their Goodwill Ambassador and highly recommend scouting out a copy while in town.

For new tropical home gardeners, what three trees, flowers or plants would you most recommend for their gardens?

Carica papaya
Psidium guajava

Plinia jaboticaba

From left to right: Papaya plant (Carica papaya), Guava tree (Psidium guajava), Brazilian tree grape (Plinia jaboticaba)

What is one tropical fruit everyone should know about or experiment with in the kitchen?

The most overlooked fruit by far is fruta bomba, papaya. Botanically Carica papayais one of the fastest growing plants in the tropics. It’s not a tree, just like bananas, which are botanically speaking herbaceous plants. Papaya, aside from being one of the healthiest and best things you can eat, is so versatile that a separate homage is needed.

Antique botanical illustration of Carica papaya by Berthe Hoola van Nooten circa 1863
The leaves can be used for a tea and eaten after being boiled. The seeds add a piquant taste to a salad dressing. The pulp can be made into juice and smoothies. Baked into a delicious Eve’s Pudding or pie. Papain, meat tenderizer is derived from this wonderful plant. Improved cultivars exist in various colors of gold and orange. The fruit is nutrient dense with antioxidants, among the best things one can eat. The ability to use it raw as a vegetable, pickled or in soups is also a fact that makes this much overlooked fruit truly utilitarian.
 

It’s available in most ethnic markets and should certainly be approached by more people in the United States with access to quality fruit. The imported or Florida grown varieties are excellent. A word of note in Cuba many regions call this fruit, fruta bomba (bomb fruit) because the word papaya is actually a vulgar term for female genitalia in some parts of the island. When you cut one open you’ll figure it out. Nonetheless do not fret because botanically the species of the Carica genus is papaya.

Although some people are reluctant to buy papaya because of the smell, it’s a must to try it. This recipe is the most accessible, and the lemon helps mellow it out. This “breakfast papaya” is from none other than Dr. David Fairchild’s files, which we have Alex D. Hawkes to thank. 

If you could only grow one fruit for the rest of your life, which would you select and why?

I cannot answer this question easily. I guess if it had to be my entire life I would choose coconuts, the fruits of the Cocos nucifera palm. That way I can die drinking coconut water. Didn’t think that was coming right?

Coconut Tree. Photo by Kilarov Zaneit.

If you could invite 5 famous people from history, living or dead, to dinner at your house who would you invite?

As silly as this would turn out and the criticism may turn out to be a blunder I would invite for the purpose of my personal story…

The dream dinner party! Clock-wise from top left: Dr. David Fairchild; Ann Seranne and Eileen Gaden; Alex D. Hawkes; William “Bill” Whitman; and Richard D. James.
1. Alex D. Hawkes
2. Dr. David F. Fairchild
3. William F. Whitman
4. Ann Seranne & Eileen Gaden (I know it’s two people but they are a team!) Eileen was the original Food “Blogger” Instagrammer IMO. 

5. Richard D. James (Aphex Twin) maybe he would DJ

Photo by Francesco Gallarotti

 What are two goals you hope to accomplish this year?

I want to continue expanding my rare plant collection, mainly grown from seeds. I also want to take every opportunity I can to lower my carbon footprint in everything I do. Composting, traveling, wastefulness, conserving resources, water management and many more ways to positively impact the planet. 

Photo by Gabriel Jimenez

One thing that I really admire about Jorge is his passionate commitment to understand all aspects of tropical fruit trees and plants, from studying to growing to eating.  Horticulture is such a slow, steady, scientific  pursuit that requires much patience, time and thoughtfulness in order to achieve successful long-term results. It is inspiring to see the ways in which he is bringing information learned from past botanists and recipe collectors forward into the light of our modern day landscape.

Like the growth of a fruit tree, our recipe also requires a bit of time and patience in order to be successful. With just a few basic ingredients, it’s simple to prepare but does require 15 hours from start to finish. Most of the time is spent in marinating (12 hours) in the fridge and then roasting (3-3 1/2 hours) in the oven, so it leaves plenty of opportunity to do other stuff in your life while waiting for dinner to be ready. Maybe in that time, you can start planting the seeds of your own tropical garden:)

The recipe calls for a large roast 6-7 lbs., but you can also easily cut all the ingredients in half, and make a smaller 3lb version if you aren’t feeding as many people during these days of quarantine. Like Thanksgiving turkey, this makes a wonderfully delicious dinner that has all sorts of potential and possibilities when it comes to serving. I’ll talk about that in a minute, but first here’s the recipe, so that you can get to marinating already.

Santiago Pork Roast (serves 8-10)

1 loin of pork (6-7 lbs)
1 large onion, thinly sliced in rings
2 bay leaves
2 teaspoons salt
1/2 cup freshly squeezed lime juice
3/4 cup soy sauce
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon grated fresh ginger

2 cloves garlic finely minced

Place the pork loin in a roasting pan or  glass dish and scatter the onion rings over it. Combine the remaining ingredients and stir until the sugar dissolves. Pour this over the meat and cover with plastic wrap (Note:  you can also transfer all the ingredients into a plastic Ziploc bag and marinate it that way, which is what I did). Refrigerate 12 hours or so, turning the meat once in while.

After 12 hours, preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Remove the meat from the plastic Ziploc bag (if using) and place in a glass dish or roasting pan.

Bake, basting frequently about 3 and 1/2 hours or until the meat is thoroughly cooked.

(Note: if you are using a smaller cut of meat, you won’t need to bake the roast that long. The general rule of thumb when it comes to pork at this temperature is 20 minutes of cooking time per lb. When it is ready, the internal temperature will read 145 degrees.)

Let rest for about 10 minutes before slicing and serving.

Filled with flavor notes of lime, ginger and garlic, this roast turned out to be wonderfully delicious. The caramelized sugar adds a bit of sweetness to the roasting juices, which makes its own rich sauce for drizzling. The onions, had an unexpected crunch to them and a sweet tangy taste that reminded me a little of pickled vegetables.

Traditional Cuban serving companions with Santiago Pork Roast are black beans and fried plantains. You could also serve it alongside rice, another staple in the Cuban diet. I wound up making sandwiches. Served on rolls, each one was layered with thinly sliced pork, mixed salad greens, mayonnaise, a drizzle of the juice from the pan and a pile of the roasted onions. It was delicious, I forgot to take a photo of them:) If you didn’t want to use rolls, bread works also – ideally, it would be a loaf of Cuban bread. Perhaps you could even follow in Jorge’s footsteps, and make garlic toast, just the way he made it with his grandmother.  Possibilities abound. Culinary creativity awaits! Cuban style pork roast is open to everyone’s interpretations.

A big cheers to Jorge for sharing his slice of tropical paradise with us. Cheers to all the agricultural accomplishments of the botanical gardeners that settled the Sunshine state and made it beautiful. And cheers to vintage Cuba for providing us with a new favorite roast recipe!

To keep up with Jorge, find him on Instagram, Twitter and his blog.

Next week, we’ll officially be one forth of the way through our Recipe Tour, as we hit the three month mark! Join us for Week 12, next Wednesday when we visit Czechoslovakia via the kitchen! In the meantime, keep your chin up and stay healthy please.

Color Therapy in Cooking and Colombia

The rainbow shades of Bogata, Colombia.

Crimson, ochre, emerald, fuschia, celadon, aubergine, tangerine – those are just a few of the everyday shades that radiate from the country most often recognized as hosting the happiest residents on Earth. Welcome to Week 10 of the International Vintage Recipe Tour 2020!

This week we are in Colombia via the kitchen to make a bountiful one pot comfort meal bursting with vibrant vegetables, spices and herbs.  We’ll also be discussing color therapy in relation to cooking and how it can instantly lift your spirit and help calm your anxiety. Two factors that seem especially important these days when it comes to navigating quarantine, the coronavirus and the current state of our world.

All of the images in this week’s post (except the recipe-related ones) were taken by photographers in Colombia, each capturing the jubilant atmosphere of a country caught up in color. Get ready to be dazzled dear kitcheners. Joyful images of bright beauty await. Welcome to life inside a rainbow. Welcome to Colombia…

The Colombian flag flying high in Bogata. Photograph by Flavia Carpia
Parrots of Colombia
Cartagena, Colombia
The verdant mountains of Salento, Colombia. Photograph by Christian Rodriguez
Shopping in Colombia captures all your attention. Photograph by Michael Baron

As you can see, it’s pretty difficult to talk about Colombia and not talk about hues bright and bold. Everything from their buildings to their birds to their landscapes to their food burst with  colors impossible to ignore.

Cartegena,Colombia. Photograph by Ricardo Gomez Angel.
Colombia is home to 4,000 thousand varieties of orchids. It is even their national flower. Photo by Steve Seck

There are lots of theories that float around about why Colombia in particular, a country that has known poverty, hardship, and crime for most of the past two centuries, continues to remain recognized for glee and good nature.

Flowers float and fall everywhere. This is someone’s front door in Bolivar, Colombia. Photograph by Regina Anaejionu

 

Colorful birds zip around the skies. Photograph by Andres Herrera.
Even a morning cup of coffee starts with a shade of sunshine. Photograph taken at a cafe in Bogata, Colombia by Dan Gold.
Cano Crisrales – known as the most colorful river in the world due to an array of multi-colored seasonal algae blossoms is located in the Macarena Mountain Range in Meta, Colombia

Some speculate that it’s because of its incredible biodiversity, or the fact that bicycling is the king of all roads and exercise, or that personal relationships are the most valued treasure. Others say that it is more psychological.

Where the flamingos meet. Parque Natural Los Flamenco in Camarones, Colombia.

In general, the simple joys of life in Colombia are revered – socializing, storytelling, dancing, laughing, cooking, eating, spending time together. In Colombia, senior citizens are considered the loudest voices, change is constant, attitudes are relaxed and expectations are low. All of these qualities yield more content behavior and a fuller appreciation of things that Colombians do have instead of things they don’t have. There is also carnival. Consistent year-round reminders to celebrate and extol their unique cultural heritage might just be one reason, the reason, why Colombians may be happier than most nationalities. Every month of the year in Colombia you can find at least a handful of festivals somewhere within the country each celebrating a wide variety of things – folklore, religion, history, etc. In total, Colombia hosts over 120 festivals a year, which basically boils down to a party every three days.

Every day is a good day to fly a pennant flag in Colombia! Photograph by Jorge Gardener

I like to think that it has something to do with Colombia’s food culture too. In addition, to happy spirits, Colombia is home to happy habitats for an immense range of plants and animals (close to 60,000 species). Being the second most biodiverse country in the world means having easy (or at least easier) access to a wide variety of naturally fresh fruits and vegetables in a variety of colors, shapes and consistencies.

Photo by Ricardo Gomez Angel

In Colombia you can find it all – forests, seasides, wetlands, mountains, flat lands, big cities, small towns, deserts, lakes, rivers, streams, remote outposts and everything in between. This is important for variety and interest when it comes to diet. Boredom is the number one killer of a good appetite, but when you are lucky enough to live in a place where such culinary abundance abounds, then naturally your day will be more enticing just based solely on the food you have available to feed your family, your friends and yourself.

Colombian corn. Photograph by Frank Merino.
Roadside cafe amidst color and character. Photograph by Frank Mercado.

The Colombian diet varies between regions but most commonly consists of a medley of rice, corn, vegetables, meat, poultry, seafood, beans, grains, dairy, fruit, coffee and chocolate. This week we are making Colombian Beef Stew, the most colorful dish of the Recipe Tour so far.

Colombian Beef Stew circa 1971

I’ve always thought of beef stew as a brown, lumpy semi-soup, a conglomeration that contains hours of cooked meat and soggy vegetables and bland, basic flavors. This is not the case of stew in Colombia. Based on the photos of the country peppered throughout this post should we be surprised that Colombian Beef Stew is a kaleidoscope of color too?

You’ll notice that this recipe includes traditional hallmarks of beef stew – meat, potatoes, carrots, celery, onions but it differs in the way it is cooked and offers some interesting ingredients that yield a wonderful array of complimentary flavors.  I loved it for its non-brown broth, dynamic appearance, and its inclusion of whole corn cobs. It also contains an interesting wheel of precise spice, which I found intriguing… 6 peppercorns (not 5, not 7!), one garlic clove halved (not minced nor crushed), dried oregano as opposed to fresh and cider vinegar (a third acid  – on top of tomatoes and onions).

Admittedly, it started out as one of those recipes I didn’t really have high hopes for based on my predilection for not really liking beef stew to begin with. Also, it called for whole ears of corn. Something I have never bought 1) in the grocery store or 2) in the middle of March. This recipe showed me what a corn evader I’ve been all these years. The farmers market in the middle of hot, humid, high summer is the only time I’ve ever purchased ears of corn, assuming that local, like tomatoes, would far surpass anything available from the trucked in variety at the grocery store.  This recipe made me reconsider all that. The corn was wonderful and just as comparable in taste as a mid-summer crop.

Most importantly though, I loved this recipe for its vivid arrangement. The days as of late have been grey and rainy around here, as if Lady Nature was just as forlorn about all the recent world events. But in the kitchen, in the stew pot, in this recipe, my senses delighted. There was the bright red of the grass-fed beef, the flamboyant orange of the carrots, the vivacity of the celery greens. The saffron bled a watery shade of marigold when mixed with water, the cumin smelled of wood smoke, and the sight of the tomato red cook pot itself  – an inheritance from my dear dad’s collection – brought instant joy. All of this is most revealing in a myriad of subtle ways.

Color works magic on our bodies whether we recognize it or not. Thanks to neurons, electromagnetic energy, pulsating frequencies, and the subconscious way in which we process information, our response to color when it comes to cooking and food is both revealing, comforting, therapeutic and ever changing.

It’s the reason why in times of stress or struggle we crave foods that are yellow, red or brown (think macaroni and cheese, red lentils, lasagna, beans or burgers). They are the comforting caretaker colors. Brown nurtures the spirit, red gives us energy and yellow offers optimism. All things your body inherently craves and needs in order to overcome sadness, depression, trauma or lack of control.  Blue foods are calming and signal self-care. Green foods signal health, vitality, and creativity while orange foods trigger happiness.

So while I was throwing carrots, celery, stew meat, cumin, saffron, corn and peas into a pot I was also adding comfort, energy, optimism, vitality and happiness to the mix. No wonder I loved this recipe so much! This sounds like a pretty good way to inherently fight back against the coronavirus, and the day to day uncertainty of navigating an international crisis while recovering from the effects of a tornado.

It also makes sense reagrding Colombia and why it radiates with joy. All their color balances all their emotions. Their bright and bold palettes soothe and comfort and excite and calm. Their colorful culture invokes passion and positivity.  It enchants and exhilarates. Happiness begets happiness. Color brings joy. Whether you are talking about a banana, a building, a bed of flowers or a beef stew:)

If things seem insurmountably bleak these days, I recommend pulling out the biggest cooking pot you have and filling it with some Colombian Beef Stew. It may not be the answer to everything, but it is a start to feeling better. Sometimes all we need to get us through is just a splash of color.

Colombian Beef and Vegetable Stew (Cocido Bogotano)

(Serves 6-8)

2 lbs boneless lean beef stew meat, cut into 1.5 inch cubes (I used grass-fed beef)

1 bay leaf

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

6 peppercorns

1 clove garlic, halved

1 teaspoon cider vinegar

2 teaspoons salt

3 cups plus 1 teaspoon cold water

2 medium potatoes, peeled and cubed

2 large carrots, peeled and diced

4 ribs celery, sliced

4 ears of corn, shucked and cut into 2 inch lengths

1/2 cup chopped onion

1/2 cup diced tomato ( I used canned since it’s not tomato season quite yet!)

1/4 teaspoon ground saffron (Special Note: So far, I’ve found that Trader Joe’s is the best place to find this at the most reasonable price)

1/2 teaspoon dried oregano

1 cup fresh or frozen peas

Place the meat in a saucepan with the bay leaf, cumin, peppercorns, garlic, vinegar, salt and three cups water.

Cover and cook slowly for one hour, until the meat is almost tender.

Add the potatoes, carrots, celery, corn, onion and tomato.

Cover and cook for 20 minutes, until the vegetables are tender.

Dissolve the saffron in one teaspoon water and add to stew, along with the oregano and peas. Cover and cook for 10 minutes, until the vegetables are done. Serve in bowls accompanied with slices of rustic bread and garnished with celery leaves.

Cheers to Colombia for providing a much needed dose of color and joy to our lives this week and to the humble stew pot for managing to be both a homecooker and a therapist all in one!

Join us next Wednesday for Week 11 when we head to Cuba where we get wrapped up in the world of slow roasting and botanicals. In the meantime, take care of your yourself and your spirit.

The Natural Disaster and the Postponement

Hello there dear and treasured kitcheners. As you know, Wednesday nights are usually the time when you can catch up on the latest installment of the International Vintage Recipe Tour. I regret to inform you that this week the post is delayed until Friday, due to an ongoing power outage. My lovely and beautiful and cherished city neighborhood was one of the places that was most hard- hit by the tornado that blew through Nashville just after midnight on Tuesday morning. The photo accompanying this post is of one of my favorite restaurants just two blocks away. Sadly, this is by far not the worst site in the neighborhood. It’s been difficult and devastating these past few days,  but luckily the Vintage Kitchen, the Tour, and the spirit behind both, keep the joy and the passion ignited and moving towards sunnier days ahead.

This week our featured country is China, another area of the world dealing with a troubling crisis. Thankfully, our focus this week is anything but bleak. The recipe stemming from this colorful Asian country is delicious and features a unique cooking technique and stylized presentation. I can’t wait to discuss it all with you. Coming up in Friday’s post, there is also special focus placed on a Chinese cultural tradition that is soothing, inspiring and illuminating. I didn’t realize at the time I was pulling all the threads together for this week’s Recipe Tour that it would feature a symbolic lifeline in the Chinese community that would also become a lifeline for me too. But the world is wonderful that way – making us feel unique and universal all at once.  Please come back and visit again on Friday where good recipes await and joy prevails. See you soon.

Eating with Elephants & Elizabeth Taylor: It’s Dinner and a Movie Night, Ceylon Style!!

Hope you are hungry this week fellow kitcheners! Tonight’s post is all about a feast for the eyes, the imagination and the belly. Welcome to Week 8 of the International Vintage Recipe Tour 2020. Welcome to Ceylon…

Last week we were in Canada making a Walnut Tart and learning all about maple trees. This week we are traveling 8,400 miles east to the lost land of Ceylon, the first stop in our Recipe Tour that involves a country that no longer exists. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. The landscape itself still exists but the country has been renamed from Ceylon to Sri Lanka. This automatically adds a sentimental bit of nostalgia to our cooking endeavors this week. So what exactly led to such a big change in our world history?

An old trading map of Taprobane. Photo courtesy of lankapura.com

In a nutshell, this is what happened. Ceylon was a British ruled country beginning in 1815. Before that, the country was known by a variety of different names including Taprobane, Ceilao and my personal favorite, Serendip, which is where we get the word serendipity from.  In 1948, Ceylon established independence from Britain but it wasn’t until 1972 that they changed the name of their country to something that was more reflective of their unique heritage. They chose the name Sri Lanka which means Island of Resplendence, a positive, empowering moniker that let the world know they were ready to shine proudly, brilliantly, and independently all on their own accord. Tonight’s recipe dates to 1971, the year just before Ceylon changed names and took on a new identity.

Camellia sinensis – the base of all tea plants

Most tea drinkers today know about historic Ceylon because of the famous tea that came from there- a black variant steeped in antioxidants that boasts all sorts of health benefits. As a favorite known around the world, Sri Lanka’s current tea industry contributes over a billion dollars a year to their economy. Other local treasures hail from this island nation too. Important food exports include coconuts and spices. On the International Vintage Recipe Tour this week we are featuring all three of these noteworthy commodities – two in recipe version (coconuts and spices) and one in movie version (tea).

1930’s Map of Ceylon

On the menu this week we are making Ceylon Curry – a spice infused chicken recipe that involves a marinade, a slow simmer, and a freshly made batch of homemade coconut milk. For entertainment, tonight’s dinner is paired with a sweeping 1954 melodrama of a movie called Elephant Walk, which stars Elizabeth Taylor and takes place on a tea plantation in Ceylon.

Liz plays Ruth, an English bride who moves to Ceylon with her new husband. There he runs a tea-plantation first started by his father years ago, called Elephant Walk. Filled with excitement and anticipation at this exotic new life ahead, Ruth, upon arrival, quickly discovers a world very different than what she had anticipated, and a husband very much changed from his wooing days back in England.

Natural beauty and a luxurious environment make up her new home, but Ruth learns almost immediately it is not a peaceful paradise.  As it turns out the plantation was built, decades ago by her father-in-law, right in the middle of the migratory walking path to water made by the local elephants during drought season. This off-handed act of careless  disregard for the natural instincts of the elephants has created a hostile environment between man and animal, leaving everyone’s defenses constantly on guard.  To make matters more uneasy, Ruth’s husband (played by Peter Finch) is still controlled by his dead father’s arcane rules when it comes to running not only his business but also his personal life.

Busy with the management of the tea business by day and carousing with his friends at night, he has little empathy for Ruth, a stranger in a new land, and little desire to restructure his life in order to accommodate his new wife. Curious and questioning, Ruth is the only non-native woman on the plantation.  An intelligent, independent, feminine creature, she is set adrift among a sea of old-school men who possess a boy’s club- type mentality. Nothing seems to make sense to her once she arrives in her new home. She doesn’t have any direction, doesn’t understand her purpose and doesn’t understand her husband, yet she is determined to figure things out.  Trying to navigate this complex world leads to a growing kinship that develops with her husband’s business manager (played by Dana Andrews), who also happens to be the only person on the plantation that will talk to her about anything important, including the ostentatious ways of her father-in-law and the mysterious and powerful hold he still has on everyone at Elephant Walk.

While the plantation environment is glamorous and decadent, Ruth must continuously adjust her attitudes and behaviors in order to keep her marriage together. When she can’t stand the peculiarities of life in this strange world one more minute and decides to flee back to England, a cholera outbreak occurs keeping her quarantined within the boundaries of the plantation. I won’t tell anymore about the story so as not to spoil the ending but you’ll see from this trailer that lots of drama happens throughout the movie…

Filmed on location in Ceylon, it’s is a wonderful glimpse into the exotic culture and landscape of vintage Sri Lanka. Some of the scenes were filmed in and around an actual tea company, so we get to see a little bit about how tea is made (or used to be made anyway!)…

Tea leaf gatherers.
Tea equipment on the right, brooding husband on the left:)

and there are lots of scenes that feature the lush and verdant country landscape…

Vintage clothes lovers will appreciate beautiful Liz and her Parisian wardrobe…

Originally, Vivian Leigh was scheduled to play the lead role, but she suffered from a nervous breakdown at the start of filming. Elizabeth Taylor was called in to replace her.

as well as the safari clothes and tuxedos worn by the guys…

That’s Peter Finch on the left and in top right corner. Dana Andrews is in the bottom right.

There’s a party scene that involves traditional dances and a kitchen scene so immense in size and scope it would boggle the mind of any home cook.  There was even a dinner scene complete with curry and rice!

If you aren’t familiar, curry comes in lots of colors. In this scene in the movie it was green. In our recipe this week it is red. But also in my pantry, I have orange curry, yellow curry and brown curry. That’s because there is no such thing as a universal curry.  Curry is a conglomeration of different spices all blended together. There is curry on the sweet side, curry on the spicy side, curry that is mild, curry that is intense and curry that has been infused with different seeds and aromatics.  Each version is unique in taste and scent.

The curry I used for this recipe is a red Thai Curry that was made of finely ground paprika, lemongrass, salt, shallots, galangal, cumin, coriander, chiles, pepper, cilantro, garlic, lime leaves, basil and spearmint. But you can use any kind of curry powder you like for this dish.  If you have a spice shop in your neighborhood, I highly recommend getting your curry powder there since it will be most fresh and flavorful, yielding an optimal culinary experience.

While Elephant Walk immerses us visually in the sights of Ceylon, this week’s meal immerses us in the scents of Ceylon. Tonight’s dinner is two recipes in one. The first is for homemade coconut milk and the second is for chicken curry. Both are easy to make but the coconut milk is labor intensive. If you are short on time, just buy a can of coconut milk and add it to the curry.

I have never made, or even thought about making homemade coconut milk before, so I was excited to try it. Basically it involves cracking open two coconuts, scooping out the meat and then blending it with water in the blender. It sounds simple. It sounds easy. It sounds like a 10 minute project.  I warn  you now this step takes some time (about 45 minutes per coconut) and it takes a little bit of muscle to crack the coconuts open and to scoop out the flesh. It’s a messy endeavor even if you are a meticulously tidy cook and it involves tools.  You’ll need a hammer, a heavy chef’s knife or cleaver, a strong butter knife, a vegetable peeler, cheese cloth and a medium to large funnel.

I made everybody a bit nervous when I posted a sneak peek video on Instagram on Sunday about the tricky aspect of chopping open a coconut. (If you missed it, click here and scroll through the sneak peek videos until you get to week 8.) It took about a minute and a half to crack open each coconut.  I used the backside of the cleaver so there really was no threat that I would chop a finger or a hand off, but I’m truly grateful that everyone was so worried for my limbs!  I’m happy to say everything is still intact, fingers and hands, and I’m more knowledgeable for having experienced the procedure. The whole task just takes a little bit of bravery, some good firm wacks with the knife and a steady determination to see the project complete. Eventually victory comes.  I’m sure this is one of those skills that improves the more often you do it. Maybe by the year’s end, we will all be experts at cracking those coconuts.

In the meantime, I must say, cracking coconuts was a pretty fun experience all the way around. There was lots of laughing during this process, bits of coconut shell went flying all around the kitchen and there was even a little impromptu competition between my husband and I about who could crack a coconut faster. He won. By a significant amount of time. So I’d encourage you to make your own homemade coconut milk at least once, just for the experience of doing it. Even though it may sound daunting and isn’t 100% necessary to the total overall taste of the recipe (a canned version would suffice just the same) you might discover a new sense of joie de vivre and camaraderie in the kitchen.

Coconut Milk Made in a Blender

(Makes about 4 cups)

2 coconuts

4 cups hot water

Once the coconuts are cracked open. Discard the water inside. Get out your hammer. Turn each coconut half skin-side down on top of a few sheets of paper towels and bang away at it until the shell either 1) falls away from the coconut meat or two separates enough that you can slide your butter knife between the outside shell and pry the meat out. This is the messy part, as coconut chucks may go flying around around your kitchen from both the hammering and the prying.

Once you remove the hard shell there will be a softer brown shell attached to the meat which you’ll peel off with the vegetable peeler. The recipe calls for two coconuts, however, you don’t need that much milk for the recipe, so if you don’t 3 cups of leftover coconut milk hanging around in your fridge, then just use one coconut.

how-to-make-homemade-coconut-milk-in-a-blender

Once the coconut meat from one coconut is peeled, cut it into chunks, toss it in the blender and pour two cups of very hot water over the meat. Blend it on high for about 3-4 minutes until thoroughly blended.

Line a funnel with cheese cloth and set the funnel inside a large mason jar. Pour the mixture into the cheese cloth in batches. When it has finished dripping into the jar squeeze the remaining coconut pulp that hasn’t drained through the cheese cloth directly into the mason jar to extract as much liquid as possible. (Note: at this stage the leftover coconut pulp looks and feels a lot like flaked candle wax.) Then discard the pulp and repeat until you have emptied your blender and there is no more coconut meat to process. Two coconuts should yield about four cups of coconut milk. Refrigerate coconut milk until ready for use.

Ceylon Chicken Curry

(serves 6)

2 lbs. boneless skinless chicken cutlets

2 1/2 teaspoons salt

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

1 tablespoon vinegar

1 one inch cinnamon stick

3 tablespoons curry powder

2 cloves garlic, crushed

1 teaspoon chopped fresh ginger

3 bay leaves

2 cardamom seeds (or 2 pinches of ground cardamom)

Cayenne pepper to taste (this is optional – I didn’t use it since my curry powder already ha some spiciness to it)

3 tablespoons butter

2 onions, chopped

1 green pepper, seeded and sliced

1 cup coconut milk

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

Cut the chicken into small chunks and place in a bowl. Add the salt, pepper, vinegar, cinnamon, curry powder, garlic, ginger, two bay leaves (crushed), one cardamom seed or one pinch of dried cardamom, and cayenne (if using).  Mix well. Cover and refrigerate for at least two hours or up to 24 hours. (I marinated mine for about 12 hours).

Heat the butter in a dutch oven or a large saucepan and add the onion, the remaining bay leaf and cardamom seed (or pinch of ground cardamom) and the green pepper. Cook briefly (about 5 minutes) over medium heat, stirring occasionally.

Then add the seasoned chicken and cook stirring occasionally, until the liquid is partly absorbed (about 5 minutes).

Then cover and cook 45 minutes over low heat.

When the chicken is tender, add the coconut milk and simmer, covered for 10-15 minutes. Add the lemon juice just before taking the pan off the heat, but keep stirring until it has been incorporated. Then you are ready to serve it.

I suggest serving this curry over a bed of jasmine rice accompanied alongside a glass (or two!) of cold white wine – preferably a varietal that sits on the sweeter side.

As I’ve  mentioned occasionally on the blog before, I’ve been a big fan of curry for a long time and have tried handfuls of different recipes. This is by far, my most favorite to date.    The curry itself is so full of flavor, I can’t wait to try it with other types of curry powder to see how the tastes change. The coconut milk adds a brothy consistency that is lovely for sopping up with bread or extra rice and offers a creamy contrast between the spiciness of the curry.

Marinating the chicken ahead of time (a new concept for me!) makes each piece so tender. Just like a slow-cooked chili or stew recipe, it only tastes better the longer it sits in its juices. All in all, this was just a joy of a recipe. Even the tricky coconut chopping wound up adding a new theatrical element to the kitchen that was fun and unexpected.

While you are enjoying your dinner… the other thing I suggest is turning on the movie (you’ll find it on Amazon), and turning off your phone or any other ringing, blinging and beeping devices.  Just for the next two hours immerse yourself in all the sights, sounds and tastes of vintage Ceylon. By meal’s end, you’ll have experienced a brief encounter with a lost country through vibrant cinematic and culinary storytelling.

Cheers to vintage Ceylon and to magical movies and recipes that transport us! Join us next week as we head to China where we make an unusual dish that involves specialty papers and curious methods.

Thoughts on Love, Dinner and New Discoveries Courtesy of Brazil

Happy Valentine’s week fellow kitcheners! Since love and romance are dominating the spotlight right now, it’s wonderfully fortuitous that the featured destination on our International Vintage Recipe Tour this week wound up being Brazil. It’s not good to generalize people or countries, but Brazil is known to be a passionate place.

Beautiful Brazil!

Consistently included in top ten lists as one of the world’s most romantic nationalities, it’s safe to say that Brazil is in love with love. And we are not just talking romantic relationships here. Brazilians are known to be equally passionate about their hometown  soccer team, their spouse, their favorite carnival and their kitchen.  Ah serendipity! On this week of hearts and roses and pink colored everything, a romantic holiday dinner awaits us here in the Vintage Kitchen.

Or so I imagined!

I was hoping that our vintage recipe was going to highlight a dinner food that matched the passionate place from which it came.  Surprisingly  that wasn’t quite the case. On today’s menu we are making Picadinho a Brasileira, a recipe that roughly translates to “Minced to the Brazilian” in Portuguese. A popular heritage dish especially in Southeastern Brazil, there are two main versions of picadinho – one a hearty beef stew with whole vegetables and the other a slow simmered light and fluffy ground beef cooked with wine and vegetables.

Picadinho a Brasileira

Our recipe this week involves the latter.  Not exactly one of the glamour foods usually touted on Valentine’s Day menus (steak, lobster, oysters, anything drenched in champagne or chocolate) ground beef always tends to get relegated to more humble, homey everyday recipes like meatloaf, burgers, tacos and casseroles. It’s never a dish you see people eating in romantic movies. It’s never the culinary centerpiece tucked in between candlelight and flower bouquets. And it’s definitely not the most tantalizing type of meat to photograph.

I don’t know exactly what I expected of Brazilian food at the start of Week 6, but I think I was hoping for something a little more exotic in the food spectrum, something that matched the passion of the people. A recipe that involved colorful fruit perhaps or a sea swimmer from the waters of the Atlantic. Picadinho a Brasileira is neither of those two things. But after making this recipe and thinking about it for a bit, I came to realize that it is in actuality, an absolutely wonderful and appropriate dish to share with your sweetheart or your gaggle of loved ones on Valentine’s Day. More reasons on that shortly.

Tonight we’ll dive right into the recipe so that we can talk about the unique aspects and attributes of it after all the steps are laid out. A super easy recipe to make (a nice reprieve after the confusing fondue affair of last week!) Picadinho a Brasileira is a one pot dish that slow simmers on the stove for almost two hours.  It includes half a bottle of wine, a satisfying amount of vegetable chopping and six eggs (something that originally sounded a bit unusual). It’s also low-maintenance thanks to the slow cooking so it conveniently allows time for you to do other stuff while its simmering away. Maybe that’s where you can fit some extra time for romance:)

Picadinho a Brasileira

Serves 6-8

1/2 cup olive oil

1 large onion, finely chopped

4 cloves garlic, coursely chopped

2 lbs ground beef (I used grass-fed)

6 eggs

2 ribs celery, including leaves, finely chopped

1 green pepper, cored, seeded and finely chopped

1 cup finely chopped parsley

2 cans (17 oz. each) Italian style tomatoes

Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

1 1/2 cups dry red wine (I used Storyteller Red Blend)

Hot red pepper flakes to taste

Heat the oil in a large, deep saucepan and add the onion and garlic. Cook until golden brown, stirring frequently.

While the onions are cooking, place the meat in a large bowl. Add the eggs, celery, green pepper, parsley and tomatoes.

Combine everything together with your hands until it is thoroughly mixed. (Note: This step is a little soupy and a little sludgy not to mention both visually and tactile-wise pretty unappealing, but don’t worry, it gets better soon.)

Add the mixture to the onions in the pan and cook stirring until well blended and the meat loses its red color. Cook the mixture 15 minutes and then add the salt (I used about  1 1/2 teaspoons), pepper (I used about 1/2 teaspoon) and one cup of wine. Cover and cook 15 minutes longer.  (Side Note:  If you are following the Recipe Tour over on Instagram too, you can see a  little video of this step in the Highlights section. Every Sunday, I post a sneak peek video of the recipe coming up, so if you are big into previews come visit the Vintage Kitchen Instagram page on Sundays!)

Now back to the recipe!

Add the remaining wine  and red pepper flakes (I used about two pinches), then partly cover and cook, stirring occasionally, one hour or longer. At the beginning of the one hour of cooking, the picadinho will be very liquidy, but as it cooks over the next 60 minutes, it will dry out and all of the moisture will evaporate. At that stage it will look like this…

…a  mixture that mirrors taco meat but is much lighter and fluffier. Once all the liquid has evaporated the dish is done and is ready for serving.

Traditionally, you’d accompany Picadinho  a Brasileira with white rice or farofa (which is a Brazilian form of farina – something similar to cream of wheat). However, I wasn’t that excited about either option when it came to pretty plating,  visual appeal and a Valentine vibe. As you can see the picadihno has lost most of its vegetable color and is pretty much in the end just one shade of brown. It is not the most visually striking dish that we have made so far, but what it lacks in appearance it more than makes up for in delicious flavor.

Between the fruity notes of the wine, the citrus notes of the tomatoes and the sweetness of the onions, combined with the fact that it looks a lot like taco meat, my first impression upon tasting it was to pair it with something in the corn family. Something like tortillas. Although this dish would be fantastic with such a companion, corn tortillas are not widely consumed in Brazil, so to stick a little closer to a more authentic meal, I chose corn grits since they are more similar to the consistency of farofa. Made with milk, Parmesan cheese and butter, the grits add color, a creamy texture and a complimentary corn flavor that blends all the ingredients in the picadinho together so well. I also added some freshly chopped onion, parsley and green pepper for a burst of fresh crunch and more color.

All sorts of other garnishes like sour cream, cheddar cheese, olives, avocado, cilantro, basil (basically anything you enjoy on a taco)  would also be delicious here, albeit not very Brazilian. But that, I discovered, was really the fun of this recipe. It is open to creativity, to interpretation, to personal touch. Which brings us back to why this recipe is actually a very good choice for Valentine’s Day. Let’s look…

  1. It has the ability to showcase your own creative flair and your personal passion for cooking. Wrap it up in pastry dough like empanadas, stuff it into pasta shells, serve it over potatoes or transform it into a patty melt. It’s yours to experiment with, to make, to mold, to accent and to call your own. It’s a love letter to your culinary ingenuity!
  2. For all the lovebirds that like to eat together, it’s a shareable meal.
  3. It’s family friendly, thanks to its basic ingredients, making it inclusive for all the ones you share your life with.
  4. It feeds a crowd, so if you wanted to throw a galentine party this Valentine’s Day it’s a delicious option for both entrees or hors d’oeuvres.
  5. It’s a food that stimulates the art of conversation and encourages new ideas, which means it’s pretty much guaranteed to keep the attention of fellow diners for at least a little while.

Picadinho a Brasileira may not be chocolate covered strawberries or lobster thermidor or a fancy special occasion food brought out once a year, but any Brazilian would tell you that love deserves to be extended, extolled and celebrated every moment, every day, not just on February 14th. Romance doesn’t have to be elaborate in order to be understood or received. A simple meal served to someone special is such a sincere act of love. The enjoyment that follows – tasting something new, talking about the experience and exploring some culinary curiosities leads to unexpected discoveries. This one dish opened up a whole conversation between myself and my valentine of a husband about spices that had us chatting and speculating the day away. Also, while researching this blog post,  I discovered some new favorites courtesy of Brazil…

Two new vintage books to read by Brazilian authors Paulo Coelho and Jorge Amado

and a new art book to explore…

And it also led to the discovery of two new artists. I love this 1920’s era portrait, untitled, but referred to as Woman with Lemons by Brazilian artist Tarsila do Amaral (1886-1973)…

and the colorful botanical collage paintings of Brazilian-born artist Beatriz Milhazes…

So you just never quite know where your dinner will wind up taking you!  At the start of this particular cooking adventure, I thought this post was going to be all about a traditional romantic Valentine’s Day worthy dinner. An idea I understand now sort of bordered on the cliche side of things. But in reality, this seemingly unromantic Brazilian ground beef recipe turned out to be quite a little passionate catalyst that produced new loves in art, literature and conversation. That’s pretty romantic after all!

I hope this Valentine’s Day your hearts and bellies are full to the brim with thoughts and  foods that you make you feel happy, loved and inspired. Cheers to the holiday and cheers to foods that surprise and satiate us not only physically but mentally and emotionally!

Next week finds us making a sweet treat that hails from the land that Meghan and Harry now call home…Canada! Until then, happy cooking!