Syria: Tabbouleh

I figured a good tabbouleh would be another nice accompaniment for the kababs. This simple salad is basically a combination of chopped, fresh herbs with some tomatoes, bulgur wheat and scallions. Bulgur wheat is made from durum wheat and has a light nutty flavor. I think it has a consistency like oatmeal.

For this one I once again turned to the Barefoot Contessa for guidance. I thought her tabbouleh recipe is kind of heavy on the bulgur wheat, but you could easily fix that by not using so much.

I also used the veggie chopper again for this recipe to chop the herbs. It smelled amazing grating the mint!

Lebanon: Kibbeh

Lebanon's national dish, kibbeh, is pretty similar to the kabab's from Iran. The difference is the kibbeh has bulgur wheat mixed in with the meat.

And what do you know, one of my favorite celebrity chef's Emeril Lagasse actually has a kibbeh recipe. Who would have thought? The recipe is actually for kibbeh with caramelized onions and some sort of pomegranate molasses, but I just stuck with the kibbeh. Remember. Keepin' it simple.

I'm still trying to decide which one I like better - the kabab or the kibbeh. The tumeric in the kabab gave it a really nice and different flavor. The Emeril kibbeh had a variety of other spices, including all spice and cinnamon. The bulgur wheat gives it a firmer texture. Hm...

Well I'm pretty hungry after all this cooking and blogging. Now I just need to decide what to feed myself. I think I've got my meals for the week covered.

And yes, I know the kibbeh also look funny. Can't we all just see past appearances?

Israel: Israeli salad

What drew me to Israel this week was one of the national dishes, an Israeli salad. I was tempted to hold off on Israel for another, less ambitious cooking weekend so I could make the other national dish - falafel. But in the end, for simplicity's sake, I went with the salad.

A traditional Israeli salad is basically cucumbers and tomatoes diced very finely. The dicing is what makes this combo distinct to the country. Apparently the ability to dice the vegetables so finely is the mark of a truly wonderful kibbutz cook.

The vegetables are dressed with lemon juice, olive oil, parlsey and green onions. I used this as a guide to come up with a very, very basic recipe.

Now, since I'm no master kibbutz cook, I relied on my veggie chopper to make this dish as authentic as possible. The veggie chopper was a birthday gift from my sister last year. She fell in love with it at a Williams-Sonoma cooking class on making salsa. The beauty of the veggie chopper is that you have total control over how finely your vegetables get chopped, moreso than with a food processor. It's manually operated with a cord that when you pull, turns the blades and chops the veggies. I love it for dicing onions. For this recipe I also used the veggie chopped to cut the parsley and scallions.

Ingredients:

1 hothouse cucumber

2 tomatoes

About 2 tbsps. fresh lemon juice

About 2 tbsps. olive oil

Salt

Pepper

3 tbsps. chopped flat-leaf parsley

3 tbsps. chopped scallions

What to do:

Dice the cucumbers and tomatoes using preferred method. Add lemon juice and olive oil and toss. Then add diced parsley and scallions. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Iran: Kabab

So the Wiki list of national dishes has two variations of kababs for Iran, chelow and nan-e.

A chelow kabab is a simple meal that basically consists of a meat kebab served with steamed rice. Don't be fooled into limiting your idea of a kabab to hunks of meat and vegetables on a stick. A traditional kebab can also be a log-shaped meat ball of sorts. The mixture used to mold the shape is usually made up of the meat and spices. You can stuff this kabab into a pita for a tasty sandwhich. The nan-e kabab is basically the same kind of thing, but served with flatbread instead of rice.

I decided to go with the meat log variety to go with my side dishes (and the leftover tzatziki from greek night).

I found this kabab recipe on some random Web site called Persian City. It calls for either lamb or ground beef. I went with lamb. The tumeric is where it's at on this one. I also made mind in the over and skipped the tomatoes.

I know they look kind of funny, but are quite tasty. Shove them in a pita with some tzatiki and the Israeli salad and you'll never know the difference.

Middle Eastern madness!

You didn't think I'd settle to close the weekend off with just one country, did you? Nope. And today I thought I'd try my luck dipping into the wine bag of fun for a surprise cooking adventure.

The lucky draw this time out was Iran, and a quick consultation with the Wiki list of national dishes revealed that one of this country's national dishes is the kebab. Easy enough.

I also figured that this would be a good opportunity to pick up some of my slack and whip up a couple of side dishes from other nearby countries.

So I came up with a pretty impressive Middle Eastern menu with the national dishes from four countries: Iran, Israel, Lebanon and Syria.

Recipes to follow with each individual country.

Like my affection for Greek food, I've also always been a big fan of cooking from middle eastern countries. It's light, seems to be healthy and now that I've made it I can say it's surprisingly simple. The key is using good ingredients.

And in case you're wondering about the picture, that's me in Israel. Somewhere hiking in the Negev Desert. I went on a trip with college newspaper editors. We swam in the Dead Sea, rode camels through the desert and even visited a kibbutz. Talk about a fun vacation location, if you can get past the terrorism. Our tour bus drove very quickly past the borders of Lebanon and Syria.

So three weeks into my little project that's 10 countries down, 193 to go...

Greece: Menu for a Grecian kitchen Odyssey

The first time I ever tried to make Greek food I was a college intern working at a newspaper in Jacksonville. It was a disaster. I followed recipes in a cookbook I bought when I was over there (I don't know why because at the time I anticipated a life of lackluster domestic skills).

Either way, the recipe for moussaka didn't say to drain the eggplant, so I didn't, and ended up with a soupy, watery mess. At this time in my life I also didn't understand the concept of Greek yogurt, so tried to make tzatziki with the regular kind. I was also halving the recipe, but forgot about that when I added the garlic. More soupy, smelly mess. Don't even get me started on the Greek potatoes.

But now I'm a little older, a little wiser and a little more savvy in the kitchen. At least savvy enough to look to what I consider the best recipe source on the Internet: FoodNetwork.com.

I love Greek food, and over time have found some awesome recipes there. Here's the menu I used for my Grecian kitchen Odyssey.

Greek salad: This Ina Garten recipe uses all the classic elements of Greek salads, but instead of serving it over lettuce you pour the dressing over chunks of vegetables. It's been a crowd pleaser every time I've made it. Everyone seems to like the crunchiness.

Tzatziki: This is another Ina recipe for the traditional Greek cucumber, dill and garlic yogurt dip.

Moussaka: Emeril gives us this recipe for the traditional Greek lasagna-like dish. It's layers of potatoes, eggplant, meat and of course the signature bechamel sauce. The recipe calls for lamb, but if you have guests who don't go there you can just substitute for more ground beef. I also add nutmeg to the meat mixture and the sauce, which is very traditional.

And the final recipe is actually one I've adapted from that otherwise useless cookbook I picked up somewhere in Greece. Just a nice little side dish. We paired the meal with quite the variety of wines and capped it off with some ouzo. More on beverage pairings later ...

Green beans with tomatoes

Ingredients:

1 yellow onion, chopped

2 tbsps. minced garlic

2 tbsps. olive oil

1 pound of green beans

1 white potato, sliced thin

1 can crushed tomatoes

1 can whole plum tomatoes

What to do:

Start by heating the olive oil in a large saute pan. Then add the onions and garlic and cook until the onions are tender.

Now for the potatoes, I usually fry some up from the moussaka recipe and save them for this side dish. If you're not making the mousakka, add the potatoes to the onion and garlic and let them fry a bit.

Add the green beans, crushed tomatoes and whole tomatoes with their juice and transfer to some sort of soup pot. Bring to a boil, and then let simmer until the green beans reach desired tenderness. This will probably take about 20 minutes, and the tomato sauce should thicken.

Opa! My kitchen Grecian Odyssey

So I guess if life is about balance, the perfect ying to the yang of an elaborate solo evening out is an equally elaborate dinner party at home with some of your closest friends.

I never picked a country from the wine bag of fun this week. For starters, I wasn't home to do it. Life got busy, or at least busy enough for me to handle. I was too tired for menu planning.

By the end of my week some of my friends were floating ideas of getting together Saturday. I thought it would be fun to have them over and cook for them and wanted to make something dinner party friendly (ie: tried, true and delicious).

At some point Saturday morning I realized my sister was on her way for her first time for Greece. I knew there would be no better way to wish her bon voyage than by with some moussaka.

Greece also has special meaning for me. It was the first country I ever visited overseas when I was a 16 year-old-soon to be senior at Sacred Heart Academy in Buffalo. I was lucky enough to be in the group of about a dozen teenage girls and half as many nuns who spent roughly two weeks touring the ancient ruins and gorgeous islands in the Mediterranean.

Thus began a period in my life when I was doing a lot of traveling.

My friend Sarah and I have occasionally mused about whether Greece was really as amazing as we remember it, or if we were just young, naive and impressionable.

I know a lot of people who say they didn't take travel opportunities when they were younger because they wanted to wait until they had more money to enjoy the experience. For me, I am I happy I did. There's nothing like being a teenager leaving the country for the first time marveling at the Parthenon or a college student wandering around the villages of Spain on her own looking for direction.

We did all of the must have sight seeing in Greece - the Parthenon and Plaka, the ruins at Delphi, the theatre in Epidaurus. I ran the original Olympic stadium with one other girl and the tour guide made me a wreath crown from a nearby laurel tree. I'm not sure if I violated the customs rules about bringing agricultural products back to the states, but I did. The dried wreath still hanging in a frame in my old bedroom at home in Buffalo.

One of my favorite stories is about the time they dropped us off in Rhodes and told us we could go wander. My friend Sarah and I got lost, and figured the best way to find our way back to the boat we arrived on would be to just head for the water. We underestimated the fact that Rhodes is an island, and ended up on an extremely long walking tour through the maze of streets and neighborhoods. Lucky for us, Rhodes is a pretty small island.

We tried milkshakes made from goats milk, Greek coffee and ouzo (Yes, the nuns let us drink ouzo ... or maybe they had too much themselves and didn't notice ...)

I remember eating some the best and freshest food of my life in the quaintest little cafes and restaurants with amazing views of ancient ruins or beautiful coastlines. There were many a lunch on our own when Sarah and I figured it was more prudent to save our money for things like souvenirs, and just split and salad of fresh tomatoes and cucumbers and ate it with pita and tzatziki.

So as my sister made her way across the ocean to Athens, I thought I would go Grecian in her honor. And what better way to celebrate a country I have such great memories of, than with my closest friends.

My Grecian cooking Odyssey did get off to a fairly rough start. I cut my time to get everything ready pretty close, and then of course my trip to Publix was hampered by what appears to be the arrival of the snow birds blocking the aisles and stealing my basket (no joke... I had to chase this old guy down to get it back). And apparently the recession has Publix scaling back hours for cashiers. So that took much longer than expected.

By the time I got home I found myself frantically peeling eggplants, slicing potatoes and frying them while simultaneously simmering onions and ground beef for the moussaka. Then there was the battle with the bottle of Greek wine, whose cork just about disintegrated into a fine powder when I tried to remove it from the bottle. My solution was to try to pry it out with a long fondue fork, but ended up accidentally (and roughly) shoving it into the bottle, cork attached, splashing the red wine all over my face and my kitchen. Thank goodness for aprons!

My laptop froze up just as I needed to consult with a recipe, so I had to take the time to restart it. I was still finishing the Greek salad and hadn't even started the tzatziki when my first batch of guests arrived - two children in tow - pulled out the baby bag of fun and their toddler promptly started exploring my living room. I brought in my chairs from the patio for people to sit on, not noticing the renegade palmetto bug that rode in on it. (We did promptly identify and take care of that issue).

But there were moments of peace in all this chaos. Every so often when you're scrambling to prepare a big meal - probably taking on too much - to entertain guests there are moments when all you can do is wait for something to finish. There are those times when you've done just about everything you can and you just have to wait for the meat to brown or the eggplants to fry before you can move on to to make something with it.

And in the end, when everything's done, all you can do is sit down with your friends and a nice glass of wine and enjoy every bite of it.

The joy of solitude, especially when served with a scoop of creme fraiche ice cream

Some of the best meals of my life I've enjoyed sitting across the table from my family or dearest friends. From a homemade pizza or Emeril's banana cream pie to fondue or tapas, I'm a firm believer in the magical power food has to bring people together in one shared experience, made all the memorable by a generous helping of whipped topping and washed down with a tasty vino.

But most days, I eat alone. And while that may seem lame, I confess I actually really enjoy it.

When sharing a meal with friends, it is the people who captivate your attention (or should). The flavors and sensations of every bite can be easily lost in the distraction of a good dining companion and excited conversation.

So many nights I actually relish in the art of eating alone, when I can become fully present with my food, contemplating and savoring every bite in some sort of deep meditation.

Most evenings I perform this ritual in the privacy of my own home, dressed down in my comphies away from the judging stares of people who might wonder how a young woman ends up all by herself in a restaurant.

But tonight I dined alone in public.

I'm not sure exactly what prompted me do to this, except I guess it seemed like a good way to end an exhausting, frantic and all around crappy workweek. No need to go into the details, but we'll just say I got stuck late at the office three nights in a row, each night forfeiting better plans to pray at the altar of my editors.

I was all set to go to happy hour around 6 p.m., feeling cute in my hot pink shirt, skirt and heels and looking forward to a nice endcap to the workweek. But I never made it.

By the time I walked out of the building at 8 p.m., the happy hour specials had long run out and most of my friends were booked or retired for the evening.

I didn't feel like going home just yet, but didn't know what to do with myself. There was one thing I did have a handle on at this point: I was really hungry.

As I made my near weekly wine run at Whole Foods this crazy idea popped into my head: Why not go to Derek's?

For the uninitiated, Derek's is this cozy little gourmet restaurant in the Rosemary Court district of Sarasota. It's the kind of place where chicly painted canvases hang on the wall above wooden furniture covered in the most classic touch of restaurant style, white table clothes. The bottoms of the tables are even covered in soft, squishy foam so when one with particularly long legs goes to cross them during her meal she does not bruise them ...

But I digress.

It's the kind of place where the chef walks around the restaurant smiling at all his patrons and watching while his artwork dissolves in their mouths, covering their palates with his sensuous tango of flavors. Somewhere I read he trained with Emeril.

It's the kind of place I always want to go more often. But it's pricey - the entrees are all upward of $25 - and I usually can't get anyone to spring the cash to go with me.

I don't think the idea of going to Derek's by myself ever popped into my head, and if it did I probably brushed it aside right away to make room for something more practical. I always dreaded the thought of going to restaurants by myself to be pitied by all the happy families and bubbly couples. It always seemed better to save the money for a time I could go with friends and share the experience. And especially after a hard week at work, I'd always figure I was too tired to enjoy it.

But maybe I'm just getting old. Maybe more secure. Maybe I'm starting to realize that the days when I can go out and drop a decent wad of cash to treat myself - just me - to a phenomenal meal could be numbered. A friend of mine pointed out just a few weeks ago when we went out to eat "If we had kids think of how much this would cost us?"

How many people really have the luxury to go out and treat themselves to a three-course gourmet meal and be able to savor every morsel completely uninterrupted and free of the any guilt of not sharing it with spouse and/or children?

Perhaps this all dawned on me the last hour of my workweek, as I sat and pouted about missing happy hour and my co-worker fielded calls from his six-year-old daughter wondering when dad was coming home for dinner.

So when the idea to go to Derek's popped into my head, not only did I let it take hold I truly embraced it. (Besides, I was really good this week. I only went to Starbucks one morning and out for lunch twice.)

I went, I sat all by myself and I savored every morsel of food and every minute of the blissful solitude that came with it. And I laughed to myself - and somewhat pitied - the couple looking quite uncomfortable on some sort of awkward date, as well as the one taking pictures of each other across the table with their cel phones.

But none of that really matters. It was really about me and the food, all three courses.

I started with the soup of the day, a pureed celery root garnished with candied celery root and a blue crab salad. Chef Derek himself served it to me tableside, pouring the creamy broth over the elegant pile of crab meat. I immediately found comfort in the smooth, creamy broth, the savory flavor interrupted every so often by a sweet bite of candied celery or the tender blue crab. Every few bites I tasted something spicy, like dried chile.

I almost died when my main course of lamb shank dressed in cumin vinaigrette and some sort of date sauce arrived. The meat looked like it was just about ready to jump off the bone and into my side dishes of mashed chic peas and a cracked wheat salad. It met this fate as soon as my knife pierced the meat. I felt like I was eating the very best comfort meal anyone could ever find in the Mediterranean. At first my feelings were mixed about the cracked wheat. It had a very distinct texture like oatmeal and tasted, well, kind of wheaty. But as I worked through the rich meat and tangy chick peas I came to appreciate the contrast of the wheat salad, with bits of black olives, dates and onions in it.

By the time I shoved almost every bite on my plate into my mouth I was stuffed, but I had come way to far in this catharsis to leave it unfinished. The dessert menu arrived, and while I really craved the banana custard with ricotta doughnuts, something about the carrot cake called to me. Perhaps it was the idea of savoring one of my favorite childhood sweets, all gourmeted to the max and dolled up with creme fraiche ice cream that appealed to me.

I left the restaurant feeling full of good food and contentment.

Some people measure independence by one's ability to go through life not relying on other people for their own happiness. Maybe this was some weird step I needed to take, but never did in my years living by myself. To go out on my own and enjoy one of my favorite pleasures without having anyone to go with.

P.S. - This was actually the second time this week I ventured out to dine on my own, but my trip to Luna in Venice earlier this week didn't seem quite as ground-breaking. I just wanted lasagna. Maybe I'm on to something ...

Lambapalooza

So it's been brought to my attention that part of the solution to my lamb angst may have been in the check out aisle at Publix.

This month's Saveur had extensive coverage of cooking with Lamb, including recipes from all over the world and tips on how to de-bone it.

If you are interested, check out this super sweet hyperlink I just figured how to add to my blog.

And by the way, I'm on round two of the lamb stew. The re-up is always tastier than the first time around. And man this stew really has a kick to it. It didn't SEEM like that much cayenne pepper...

Mali: Timbuktu lamb stew with couscous

I love eating lamb, but until I started making this stew I forgot what a pain in the ass it can be to cook with. Most of the better cuts I've come across in the grocery stores involve large hunks of bone that make it difficult to salvage all of the meat from.

Either way, the effort is well worth it. I've done several other slow-cook stews that involve lamb, and I think it could just be the perfect way to cook it. The stewing process makes the sweet meat deliciously soft and tender.

This recipe is marked by just about every spice in the spice aisle. (That's a slight exaggeration, but you seriously use eight, not including the salt or garlic). It creates an amazing flavor combination that dances across your palate leaving hints of sweet, tangy and finally the hot from the cayenne pepper.

Anyway, for the most part I followed this recipe from recipehound.com, with some alterations with ingredients and techniques.

One of the most noticeable differences is that I used carrots in mine (in my never ending effort to use all of the food in my refrigerator). I also thought it could use some color. I was also fairly arbitrary about the spice adding.

Ingredients:

1/2 cup olive oil

About 2 pounds of lamb, cut into 2 inch chunks

salt

pepper

3 garlic cloves, minced

5 carrots, peeled and cut into large chunks about the size of the meat

1 tbsp. cumin

1 tsp. fennel seeds

1/2 tbsp. ground cardamon

2 tbsps. ground ginger

more pepper

1 tbsp. cayenne pepper

1 tsp. ground nutmeg

1 can whole tomatoes

water

2 yellow onions

1 tsp. cinnamon

1 1/2 cup dates pureed

chopped parsley

couscous

What to do:

Season the lamb with salt and pepper (I usually do this before I cut it into the cube pieces). Heat the oil in a large soup pot or dutch oven. When the oil is hot, add the garlic and the meat and cook until browned. Add the carrots and cook a few more minutes. Next add the following spices: cumin, fennel seeds, cardamon, ginger, black pepper, cayenne pepper and nutmeg. Mix well and cook a few minutes.

Then add the can of tomatoes and their juices. Add water to cover all of the meat and bring pot to a boil. Then reduce to a simmer and let cook for an hour.

When the hour is up, add the onions, date puree and cinnamon. Again, bring this to a boil then reduce to a simmer for another 30 to 40 minutes. You want to cook it until the juice thickens.

You can eat this dish over couscous, or just as is (which is actually what I did with a side of potatoes au gratin). Sprinkle with the parsley before serving.

Surprise detour ... through Comoros!

Well I decided to live really wild this week and spontaneously pull a country for a quiet Friday evening at home doing some cooking. The lucky draw was Comoros, a country in the Indian Ocean off the coast of Africa.

I could not immediately locate a national dish for this country, so I started doing some Internet research to come up with a recipe.

Comoros must be a pretty nice island locale because over the years it was invaded by various groups from Africa, Indonesia, Madagascar and the Persian Gulf region. France and Portugal also paid their own friendly visits.

Of course all of these people were kind enough to bring ingredients from their native countries and introduced them to the Comorosians. This inspired an eclectic cuisine that revolves heavily around rice and meat cooked with various spices, like cloves and saffron, vanilla and cardamon.

I found a decent recipe for a Comorosian chicken curry. I'd post the link, but the web site kept freezing my computer every time I visited it. Besides, I altered the recipe anyway to use up some of the building arsenal of ingredients in my refrigerator.

Without further ado, my version of a Comorosian chicken curry.

Ingredients:

2 boneless skinless chicken breasts (More if you are cooking for more people, obviously. I still have a ton of food frozen from last week so I need to start scaling back my portion sizes.)

Canola oil

1 yellow onion, sliced thin

4 cloves of garlic, chopped

3 serrano peppers, chopped

2 inch piece of fresh ginger, grated

5 tomatoes peeled, diced (You can use fresh, or canned tomatoes - whole or already diced. I used whole, canned plum tomatoes and diced them.)

6 whole cloves

About 2 tbsps. ground cardamon

About 1 cup of vanilla greek yogurt (let sit to room temperature)

1 tbsp. flour

About 1 tbsp. ground cumin

A pinch of saffron

Arborio rice

What I did:

Start by heating about 2 tbsps. of canola oil in a frying pan. Clean the chicken and when the pan is hot throw it in, searing the two pieces. Let the chicken sit for a few minutes on each side so you get a nice brown barrier that will lock in the juices. When done searing, pop the chicken in the over (pre-heated to 350 degrees) to let it finish cooking for (about 25 minutes).

Add the onions, garlic, peppers and ginger to the pan and let it all cook until the onions are soft. Then add the cloves and cardamon and let cook for a few minutes.

When the chicken is done, add it back to the curry and add the tomatoes. Reduce to low heat.

Meanwhile, mix the yogurt with the cumin, saffron and flour. Take a few tbsps. of the curry sauce and add it to the yogurt slowly, mixing briskly. This is supposed to gradually heat the yogurt so it does not curdle. Remove the chicken from the pan, and stir in thre yogurt/curry mix and stir quickly to prevent curdling. Cover and let simmer for one hour.

Meanwhile, cook the rice so it will be ready to serve the chicken over.

I really enjoyed this dish. The seared chicken was tender and juicy and the curry sauce is a nice balance of the full flavors of the spices and the kick of the serrano peppers. The ginger also helps cool the palate from the peppers.

Next up ... Mali

So the next draw from the wine bag of fun and adventure ... Mali. I'm just planning on one country this week - for now - since the weekend is already shaping up to be pretty busy. But I have big plans to pick up my slack next weekend and do my first multi-country feast. Maybe I should have called the blog Cooking Around the World in 80 Weeks?

Mali does not appear to have a national dish that I could easily find, but it does have the legendary city of Timbuktu. I learned this when I found a decent-looking recipe called Couscous De Timbuktu, a stew made with lamb, dates and spices served over couscous. Sounded pretty good to me so I'll be making it this weekend.

In other news in my world of food, the Travel Channel's Man Versus Food filmed an episode in Sarasota that will air tomorrow (Wednesday). The word on the street is that host Adam Richman visited the Salty Dog Cafe, Munchies 420 and Yoder's Amish Restaurant, where one can find a variety of different yummy pie products.

The show will be on at 10 p.m.

Myanmar: Mohinga, Part II

Well for starters, looks like I was right in the first place about Myanmar being Myanmar. It's been brought to my attention that it was Burma up until just last year when they changed their name back to the original Myanmar (Huh?). Right. Apparently there is still some confusion even in the mainstream media about what to call the place. Anyone who is really interested can read up on it. I was more concerned about making my mohinga to pay too much attention.

Today I realized that many of the dishes I may make are going to seem iffy at first, and some may not really be appealing at all. My goal in all of this will be to elevate the traditional recipes into something yummy and edible.

In the course of making the mohinga I feared this could be one of those challenges.

I had trouble finding many recipes for the dish, but Wikipedia did have a list of traditional ingredients that included chickpea flour, garlic, onions, lemongrass, banana tree stems (huh?), ginger, fish paste, fish sauce and catfish. This is all cooked in a rice broth and served with vermicelli and garnished with various things like lime juice, more fish sauce, spring onions and crushed chile peppers. I did use most of these, with the exception of the fish paste and banana tree stems.

As I indicated in an earlier post, I was a little wary of the catfish. I had never tried it, but it strikes me as one of those dirty kind of bottom feeder fish with little flavor. My parents feed them in the murky pond behind their house, and they don't look like anything I'd ever want on my dinner table. Sorry Emily. One we call "lips" even has some sort of weird, red ball on its mouth that my sister suspects might be a tumor.

But I digress...

I learned a few things making the mohinga. 1) Catfish is in fact tasteless, in my opinion, but a meaty, hearty fish 2) Fish sauce smells absolutely terrible and 3) Crushed dried chickpeas smell equally as awful.

All this had me a little worried what the heck I was going to end up with. Despite the above, this soup came out surprisingly tasty. The broth has a bit of a tang to it, but I added cayenne pepper to the recipe so that gave it a little balanced kick.

Without any further ado ... My mohinga.

Ingredients:

About 1 cup of chickpea flour (you can make this my grinding dried chickpeas in a food processor)

4 tbsps. coriander

3 tbsps. cayenne pepper

salt

pepper

1 lb. catfish

1 packet of vermicelli noodles

4 yellow onions

4 cloves of garlic

2 tbsps. lemongrass (I used a paste I found with the fresh herbs)

2 tbsps. grated ginger

3 tbsps. fish sauce

2 limes

1 cup of chopped green onions

1 cup crushed, dried chiles

How I did it:

I start by bringing a pot of water to a boil and cooking the rice noodles. The instructions on the bag actually say to let them soak in warm water for 20 minutes, but I find it works just as well to boil them a few minutes until they are somewhat tender. As I drain the noodles, I reserve the water to use for the soup later. I figured this counted as the rice broth.

I wanted to season the catfish a bit before cooking in an effort to give it some semblance of flavor - based on my assumption it has none - so I make a rub with about half of the chickpea flour, half of the coriander, half of the cayenne and some salt and pepper. I heat a few tablespoons of canola oil in a soup pot while I rub the catfish fillets. When the oil is heated I drop the fish in and cook it. When the fish is done, I remove it and set aside for later.

Then I scrape the seasoning left in the pot off the bottom and add 1 grated onion, the garlic, the lemon grass the ginger and about half of the fish sauce. I let this cook for a few minutes. Then I add the rice broth back in. You may want to add some additional water depending how much you have, the rest of the chickpea flour, coriander and cayenne and bring to a boil. When it is boiling, I add the catfish (cut in chunks) and the rest of the onions (also cut in chunks) and let simmer. The broth thickens pretty quickly, but that's ok. It should be kind of thickish when served.

I toss the vermicelli noodles in the rest of the fish sauce and the juice of two limes. Serve the soup over the noodles and garnish with the onions, chiles and more coridaner (if you feel like it).

I enjoy with a nice cold glass of Santa Alicia Chardonnay!

Myanmar: Setting things straight, and on to mohinga

First things first, a little Internet research has indicated that the Union of Myanmar included on the Wiki list of nations is actually modern-day Burma. Just so there is no confusion for anyone country tracking.

Second, I found a few recipes for the national dish mohinga. It is a fish soup made with catfish, ginger, lemongrass and other spices. It sounds similar to what the Vietnamese call Pho.

I started out with a grocery list of ingredients that included chickpea flour, crushed toasted rice, 4 garlic gloves, 4 onions, 1 tsp. lemongrass, a banana tree stem, 1 inch ginger, fish paste, fish sauce, catfish, 4 tbsp. rice flour rice broth, rice vermicelli, lime, crisp fried onions, coriander, spring onions and dried chili.

Issues with the grocery list: no chickpea flour, crushed toasted rice, banana tree stem, fish sauce. or rice broth.

Going into the grocery shopping, I wasn't even confident I'd be able to find lemongrass or catfish. I've never cooked with either one before. And to be honest, I don't think I've ever ate catfish and was skeptical they would sell this somewhat inferior fish at my local Publix.

It's important to note at this point that I live in a master planned community. My Publix sells fine cheese, duck, quail and creme brulee ice cream. One of my friends once insisted that all Publix's sell fishing bait and didn't believe me when I said I had never seen it there, despite having scoured like every inch of the store. Big surprise, we could not find the large buckets of bait they sell at Publix stores in Port Charlotte, and left with some frozen fillets. Another big surprise, we didn't catch anything.

So yeah, I was iffy about whether the Lakewood Ranch Publix would have catfish sitting side by side with swordfish.

I was indeed surprised that they did, but even more surprised that they had lemongrass in a little tube in the fresh herb section. Now, on to all of the other stuff in the list of ingredients.

In the future, I need to be a little bit more on top of it when it comes to pre-meal grocery shopping (one of my friends pointed out that all Publix's have the plantains required in my Panama dish ... I pointed out this is true, except when I need them). With a little effort and visits to specialty stores, I could probably find most things.

But the point of all of this is to have fun, and I guess I'm somewhat resigned to the fact that things like chickpea flour (also known as gram flour) may not be common mainstays in American supermarkets. So I will figure out how to do without them, or improvise.

In the case of the chickpea flour, we're going with improvise.

I've been meaning to buy a food processor for quite sometime, but like many other things in my life have not been moved by necessity to do so. But as I wandered the aisles of my fairly small Publix this evening wondering where else I could find ground chick peas I thought "Seriously. What do you really think chick pea flour is, besides ground chick peas?" So for $24 I threw a food processor and bag of dried chick peas into the basket.

I'm cutting my loss on the fish paste and banana stems (Seriously? Where the heck would I find those?). And how much fish flavor do we really need? Since I'm all up on the new food processor think I'll make my own crushed, toasted rice. Jury is still out on the rice broth.

Ode to my favorite wine, ever ...

... or at least for now.

If you haven't familiarized yourself with Chilean wines stop whatever you are doing immediately, call the nearest wine store you think will be open and steer yourself in that direction. I don't think it's even fair to call Chile an "up and coming" wine region anymore. For those of us that really enjoy our vino, it's here!

Chile is getting a lot of mainstream attention for its cabernet sauvignons and even sauvignon blancs. While these are both great wines coming out of the country, I challenge the real aficionados to get a little more adventurous. Pick up a carmenere.

Carmenere is a bold, full-bodied wine that is usually spicy, and sometimes smoky. These wines are tougher to come by. For example, for such a great wine, the local Total Wine only has about a half dozen of them.

The problem with carmenere - or at least selling it - is that the flavors in the wine are so bold only really seasoned palettes can appreciate it. Maybe in a few years though these Chilean wines will gain the same popularity of some Spanish wines on liquor store shelves.

In the meantime, look for my favorite label of the moment Santa Alicia. I've had a number of different wines - chardonnay, shiraz, malbec ... - from this Chilean winery and they've all been fantastic. Get an $8 bottle of carmenere and it will hold it's own at any tasting against $20 California bottle.

If you are in Sarasota, you're in luck. Whole Foods has had an ample supply of Santa Alicia carmeneres, malbecs and chardonnays for $8. If you buy six bottles, you get 10 percent off, and if you like bold and flavorful wines you'll drink that no problem.

The pleasure of a one pot meal, especially when recovering from too much fun lately

It's been a long week. Or rather, it's been a long three or four of them.

Let me start by saying that I'm the kind of girl who likes a lot of down time. I like to be able to squirrel away every few weekends all by myself with a few bottles of wine and new recipes. Just me, all by myself, doing whatever it is I feel like at any given moment in my little apartment with all of my things close by me. Too much fun, too much excitement will drive a girl like me to temporary seclusion. Call it lame. Call me old, or a loser. That's just me.

I've been running toward this hermit status for so long I don't even know how long it's been.

All I know is it really started when my parents decided to fly down to help me replace the carpet in my apartment.

My family has been bugging me since the day I moved in more than six years ago to get my apartment's management to replace the carpet. I always figured I was lucky they gave me a place to live, and never thought I'd stay long enough to make it work the effort. And, to me, the carpet never seemed so bad in the first place. But my family always figured I was paying enough in rent each month to warrant a pet free, stain free, fluffy new carpet.

The one defense I always used to support my laziness was that the whole carpet installation was just too much work for me to deal with, me a successful, working journalist with far more important things to worry about. At some point this past year my mom decided she was sick of this BS and volunteered to come down with my dad and do it for me. (You may call me spoiled. I call this the millennial generation. Read up on it.)

So about three weeks ago they descended on Sarasota, and more specifically my sacred little refuge. Before I knew it, they were in my apartment turning my nice, settled life of six years upside down, packing and stacking up all of the books, knick knacks and photos that hadn't been moved in years and piling them up in the kitchen. Before long, there was nothing left in my living room but the carpet stained by years of accidentally spilled red wine and coffee. (Before this whole ordeal began, my friend Elaine and I talked about kissing the old carpet good bye with a baptism by red wine. But then we realized the wine would be put to better use if we just drank it).

All of my belongings hovered in towers on the counters in my kitchen, my furniture lined up next to bed, when the carpet people showed up at 8:30 a.m. I stood watching them tear up my living room in some sort of trance as my mother shooed me out the door to the office. It's a rare event I get my butt to work before 10 a.m., and I think my editor found it amusing the new carpet installation was traumatizing enough to propel me so early into the office.

It really wasn't such a big ordeal. In fact, I got through it doing next to nothing. It was the whole metaphorical process of picking my whole life up, moving it around and leaving it unsettled and disorganized - if only for an evening - that I found so traumatizing. To me, a new carpet also felt like a commitment. It felt like I was pledging to stay in this very place a good chunk longer to make it worth the while. This was also all happening the week before school started, so I was stressed and busy at work trying to file a bunch of stories.

I walked into my apartment at the end of that day, already tired from my back to school preparations and terrified of what new projects my parents might have found to take on that morning. I immediately smelled the new carpet odor, and as I took the few steps down the hall to see my new carpet found myself smirking.

"So..." my mom said beaming from my living room as she put all of my personal belongings back in all the wrong places. "What do you think?"

She was so excited that for a brief moment I thought about just lying. Pretending like it was the greatest thing since manchego cheese or a bottle of Santa Alicia. But at that point I was already too tired, too overwhelmed and too drained. I just found the whole situation amusing.

"It looks ... well ... the same as the last one," I said laughing. "I guess it is cleaner."

I started moving methodologically through the apartment putting everything back in its proper place. For a moment I thought "Maybe this is the time I should just mix it all up. Leave it somewhere new. Aw hell. I'll just get to it later." We were up and doing random "projects" around the house all night. We finally finished to break for dinner at about 10 p.m.

Thus began all the fun, all the excitement, all the stress and lack of routine that has left me in the drained state I now inhabit.

Before they left the sunshine state, my parents took me to Disney, where we wandered around an amusement park in the August heat, ate with Remy (of Ratatouille fame) and at Wolfgang Puck's and Emeril's. They left me one Sunday, and I woke up the next day for the first day of class at a brand new high school at 7 a.m., when I had my Starbucks confiscated. Then ensued all of the 28th birthday celebrations, all of the Bobby Flay, chicken wing festivals, workouts with my brother and blog project shenanigans. Not to mention all the thinking and reflection that comes with every birthday.

I was drained when it all started and I was drained when I came back to Sarasota this week. It was all I could do to make it for two more birthday celebrations : ) After my friend Dan took me for a birthday drink (or three) at some point this week I knew I had it. I was in bed that night by 9:30. Somehow I made it to the weekend, muddling through all the tired and all the cranky that follows all of this over stimulation.

So one might believe it was good karma that after all these weeks of stress, fun and excitement, that I pulled a country with a national dish that amounts to not much more than a comforting and hearty chicken soup. What better way to kick back, get back in touch with yourself and relax your soul than chicken boiled and simmered in a pot with a bunch of yummy veggies?

I will admit that even as I write this I still don't feel like I've really taken a break, or as Jimmy Buffett once sang "a weekend off to try and recall the whole year." But an evening home in my comphies with a delicious one pot dish is a little closer than where I've been lately. I'm on to some more carmenere and carrot cake.

PS - Hope this was sufficient Emily! I am so fortunate to have friends who always point me in the right direction : )

Panama: Sancocho, Part II

I've successfully completed my first solo global cooking adventure, a sancocho from Panama. I did pretty well finding all of the ingredients (this was a fairly easy one). The only thing I didn't find was the plantains, but admittedly I didn't try very hard. Florida might as well be the 28th official Spanish-speaking country, and my local grocer usually has plantains (and an assortment of other ingredients common in traditional Latino cooking) on hand. Not today! And I was too lazy to look elsewhere. I also used a yam instead of a sweet potato, since they're pretty much the same thing anyway.

As I scoured the veggie section for my root veggies, I came upon a yucca. I've never cooked with one before, but remembered seeing it in one of the recipe variations I looked at. What the heck? I decided to live on the wild side and toss one in for good measure. The yucca is a white, potato-like root vegetable that has a thick brown skin on it. It was surprisingly easy to peel, and not that difficult to slice. About the same thickness as a sweet potato. I thought it had a texture and taste similar to a mild coconut.

So here's how I did it. As always, I'm not big on measurements. I'll give rough estimates, but use your best judgment and flavor to taste! The end product is a rich tasty stew that highlights the earthy taste of the root vegetables. You can taste the sweetness of the carrots and the sweet potatoes, balanced by the chiles, onions and garlic that give a kick to this dish. A fun and hearty take on chicken soup. I ate mine with a carmenere from Chile.

P.S. - My friend Emily thinks I need to get back to making the blog more personal. What can I say, it's been a tough week getting back from traveling and my ultra exciting trip to NY (recall, the Bobby Flay situation). And believe it or not, preparing that German feast was pretty exhausting. Plus, there were several post-birthday celebrations this week. But seeing as Emily is trapped in Senegal in the Peace Corps and relies on quasi-lame and unexciting stories from my life for entertainment, I will try harder to be more exciting in the future.

Ingredients:

Canola oil
3 yellow onions

6 boneless, skinless chicken thighs

Oregano

Salt

Pepper

1 quart chicken broth

1 sweet potato (or yam)

1 potato

1 yucca

3 carrots

About six cloves of garlic

About 4 tbsps. chopped cilantro

1 cup of green onions

Dried chiles

1 can of diced tomatoes

2 ears of corn

What I did:

I start by heating some canola oil in a large soup pot. I slice one of the onions into thin half circles and then throw those in and let them start cooking. Then I add the chicken, season with some oregano, salt and pepper and cook until the meat is done. Scoop out the chicken and onions and put in a bowl for later. (I use one of the onions so the chicken can absorb the flavor as it cooks). Save the juices in the pot to cook the root vegetables.

I cut the root veggies into cubes about an inch each way and add them to the pot in the order I think they will take longest to cook: sweet potato, yucca, potato, carrot As they cook and get tender, I gradually add chicken broth to the pot so they always have a little bit of liquid to cook in. I slice the rest of the onions into half rounds and throw those in, then season the mix with some more (maybe two tablespoons) of oregano, salt, pepper and chiles (I like things spicy) and let cook for a few minutes. As they're cooking, I add the cilantro, green onions and tomatoes.

After the root veggies are pretty soft, I add the rest of the chicken broth and the corn (broken into half ears). I cut the chicken from the first step into chunks and add it (with the cooked onions) to the pot. Bring to a boil and then let simmer. The longer the better because the flavors will meld more. I always like my soups thicker, closer to a stew so I let mine go quite a while to thicken.

Panama: Sancocho

So the first country out of the bag was Panama, and a check of the Wiki list of national dishes reveals that natives of this country have one they call sancocho.

I consider this a real score for me because I love making one pot dishes, especially soups and stews. There's just something about the ease of cooking and how the flavors get all melded together that I find appealing.

Sancocho is just that - a soup or thick stew made of meats, various root vegetables and spices native to the region. Some more Internet research shows that sancocho is actually a popular dish in many Central and South American countries. The recipes vary from place to place, with some using chicken or beef and others using ingredients as unique as a cow's stomach lining. One other country - Columbia - also claims sancocho as its national dish. That's not surprising since until 1903, Panama was part of Columbia.

The Panamanian version is commonly made with chicken, yams and an herb called culantro - apparently similar in taste the the more common cilantro.

I spent some time exploring the Internet and found that recipes for the Panamanian version are more difficult to come by than those from other places (like Columbia and Puerto Rico). I found a few decent ones, but like the potato pancakes was not entirely happy with any of them. I think I'll have to develop my own based on the best from all of them.

I used the other recipes to come up with a list of ingredients. Right now I'm looking at chicken thighs, potatoes, carrots, onions, plantains, yams (if I can find some), corn on the cob, garlic cloves, oregano, cilantro, green onions, salt, pepper and chicken broth. I'll look for the culantro, but am skeptical I'll find it in any of the local groceries. I'll update with a recipe this weekend after I have some time to experiment.

As far as beverage pairings go, it seems Panama is another big beer country. It appears most of the wine drunk in Panama actually comes from Chile, my favorite wine producing country (Yeah!) So I'll probably pick a few from there to pair with my stew. I may be in the market for a crisp sauvignon blanc. Although it's always hard for me to resist a good red, especially one from Chile.

One down, 202 to go...

So that concludes my first culinary adventure. In all, we spent about 10 hours cooking (not including getting the brine ready) over the course of two days. Pretty labor intensive. But hey, it was the kick off. And I had helpers.

I was moderately worried when I returned to Sarasota today to pick two countries for next weekend that I would end up with obscure places that would pose difficulty tracking down recipes, not to mention ingredients.

I think I lucked out. The two I picked: Panama and Myanmar.

A quick review of the Internet showed that this should not only be pretty easy to come up with recipes, but ones that look pretty tasty. So I'll be spending some time this week exploring options and will hopefully post some recipes when I am ready. I may pick a few other neighboring countries to round out the meal.

Oh and by the way, my mom filled out the application for me to get my passport renewed. So I guess all I need to do at this point is write a check and drop it in the mail. Here I come Canada!

In case anyone was wondering about beverage pairings ...

We did have some German beer to go with all of this, but my brother was in charge of that. I'm really not a beer person. I'll see if he can send me the names of what he got so I can include them.

I was on wine duty, and this posed quite the challenge. One's gut tells them to go red with a heavy, meaty meal, but Germany is not known for its red wines. Along with that, I had my own personal bias against a) white wines and b) sweet ones. I like a big, smoky, spicy red, especially with a good meal.

My initial thought on the reds was to pick something bold and rich to match the meat, either a Shiraz or a Zin. My sister, on the other hand, thought a traditional Riesling would be a decent complement because the sweeter wine would help balance out the sour flavors of our dishes.

I did some Internet research and found an article from the New York Times that also suggested Shiraz and Zin. But many of the people commenting on the story suggested pairing sauerbretan with Riesling, particularly one from the Alsace region (which is actually now part of France).

So armed with all of this seemingly conflicting information, we headed to Premier and decided to consult one of their wine "experts." I went up and explained we were looking for a German wine to go with sauerbraten, and the guy immediately got this pensive look on his face and muttered something along the lines of "ahhh ... yes. I believe I can help you." I thought he was full of BS.

But the guy confidently led us along the aisles of German wines and those from Alsace and helped us pick four that were pretty reasonably priced. Of course it was after we put these in our basket and were ready to check out when he made some comment about how the Rieslings were good with any kind of spicy sausage. This is about when we realized he didn't know what sauerbraten is (Deal breaker?)

I was starting to get a little overwhelmed at this point so we just went with what he picked. I threw an Australian Shiraz in for good measure. We were all actually pleasantly surprised by how much we liked the selections and how well they went with the German feasting (although in all fairness, much of it we drank before we sat down at the table).

Our wines were also all pretty dry and crisp, which I think helped cut the acidity in all of the vinegar. Heather was right. It was a nice balance.

Here were three of the four we ended up with. The fourth bottle of white remains unopened in my mom's refrigerator (I'll see if I can get little bro to track down what it is).

HUGEL GENTIL 2005

This was a dry, white blend from Alsace that was made of Gewurtztraminer, Pinot Gris, Muscat and Sylvaner. This was my favorite because it was extremely crisp and refreshing. A winner!

SCHUMANN NAGLER CHRISPTOPHER PHILLIP RIESLING, 2005

This was a nice, light Riseling that was on the drier side. It was fruity and pleasant to drink.

BOULARD EIFEL RIESLING 2005

This one was the sweetest of the three we drank. Also nice and fruity.

Germany: Gingersnap gravy and sauerbraten

You make this gravy with the leftover brine from cooking the sauerbraten (see recipe below). The gingersnaps give it a sweet flavor to balance out the sour flavor of the beef.

Ingredients:

2 tbsps. butter

3 tbsps. flour

2 tbsps. sugar

lemon juice

8 crumbled gingernsnaps

1/2 cup white raisins, soaked in water

What we did:

When meat is done cooking (tender enough to easily stick a fork into it) remove it from the brine. Strain the brine and reserve the liquid. Return to pot.

Melt butter in a saucepan and when hot stir in the flour and sugar. Cook the roux until the mixture becomes a caramel brown color. Be careful doing this because the sugar will cook very fast and can burn easily.

When the sugar/flour mix is done, add it to the reserved brine liquids and stir briskly until combined. Add lemon juice to taste and stir in the crushed gingersnaps and raisins.

Return meat to pot with gravy and simmer 10 minutes.

For sauerbraten:

You saw a few days ago we started brining the sauerbraten so it could sit for three days. After this is done, you can prepare the meat.

When it's time to do this, you remove the meat from the marinade and strain, reserving the liquid. Dry the meat off, getting off as much liquid as you can. Heat some bacon fat in a dutch oven and when hot sear the meat on all sides. When the searing is done, add about 2 large, sliced onions to the pot and the reserved juice from the marinade. Add 1 bay leaf and six cloves and bring to a boil. After it boils let simmer for about three hours. Remove meat and use the liquid for the gravy recipe.

Germany: Dumplings

Ingredients:

10 white rolls
1 cup of milk
1/2 cup crumbled bacon
1 tbsp. butter
1 small onion, chopped
1 tbsp. chopped parsley
3 eggs
salt and pepper
nutmeg

What we did:

Rip the rolls into pieces and put into a bowl. Gradually add the milk. This whole gradual instruction is pretty important. We put in the full amount and ended up with bread that was too moist and had to add more bread. So put it in a bit at a time. You can always add more later when you've put in all the ingredients. You're going to want to mold them into little balls.

Heat the butter in a frying pan and saute the bacon. Add the onions and parlsey.

Add the eggs and spices to the bread misture, then combine with the hot mixture.

Bring a pot of salted water to a boil. Shape the bread mixture into little balls and drop them in the water. Cook for 20 minutes. Serve with ginger snap gravy (recipe to follow).

Germany: Potato pancakes

The potato pancakes really ended up being our own invention, largely because we couldn't find a recipe we were entirely happy with. They all had some good elements, so we just took the best of several of them and came up with our own. The difficulty making potato pancakes is getting a nice, firm little cake - as opposed to a crumbly mess of potato that falls apart when you cook it. The potatoes can't be too watery (you should drain them), and you need to make sure you have enough stuff in the mixture to bind it all together. You'll probably want to gradually add the ingredients in gradually to make sure you get the right consistency.

So this is what we came up with ...

(And yes, we did make 10 pounds of potato pancakes. My family is a big fan of these. Feel free to adjust the recipe for smaller quantities).

Ingredients:

10 pounds white potatoes (boil four of them)

3 yellow cooking onions

1 1/2 cups chives

lemon juice

10 eggs

4 tbsps. milk

3 tbsps. flour

4 tbsps. salt

applesauce

sour cream

What we did:

The first, and most laborious thing, we did was finely shred all of these potatoes. Luckily for me my sister's boyfriend Amit is a self-proclaimed awesome shredder and volunteered for this activity. So we peeled all of the potatoes and then using a fine grate shredded them into a strainer (Heather and Amit later pointed out after about two hours of this that you could probably achieve the same affect in a food processor).

As they were shredding we started to notice this, like, foamy stuff oozing out the bottom of the colander. The two of them are scientists, so they figured out pretty quickly is was starch from the potatoes (I'm not sure I would have picked up on that one). So after we shredded them all we took the colander to the sink and rinsed them to get the starchy stuff out. Then we let them sit and drain for a long while (Probably at least an hour. We did then let them sit on a towel for a bit as well. It's important to acknowledge, Heather and Amit did most of this).

We grated the onions to the same texture, and then drained them (no rinse). When this was all fairly dry we mixed it all together and threw some chopped, fresh chives in. We did all of this the night before and let it sit in the fridge overnight with some lemon juice to keep from browning.

The next morning we made the batter by adding in the eggs, milk and flour. We mixed it all together. We cooked them on two cast iron skillets outside on the grill (as to heat the house up and get it smelling like fried potato pancakes). You could, however, do this in a typical frying pan.

We like to eat them with sour cream and apple sauce.

Germany: Black Forest Cherry Cake

This is my mom's favorite part of the Oktoberfest, and probably her German heritage. A three layer (actually five if you count the frosting and cherry ones) chocolate cake laced with kirsch.

The kirsch is the prominent flavor in the cake. It is a clear brandy that is made by distilling sour cherries called morellos that are native to Europe. This is not your typical chocolate cake. The cakes themselves are stiff, the cherries sour and the kirsch gives it a fairly bitter flavor. Definitely an acquired taste.

Ingredients:

For cakes:

6 eggs
1 cup sugar
1 tsp. vanilla
4 squares of unsweetened baking chocolate melted (we used the choco bake things that Toll House makes)
1 cup flour

For syrup:

1/4 cup sugar
1/3 cup water
2 tbsps. kirsch

For the buttercream frosting:

1/3 cup unsalted butter
1 egg yolk
2 tsbs. kirsch liqueur

For topping:

2 cups drained, canned sour cherries
2 tbsps. confectioners' sugar
2 cups heavy cream, whipped

What we did:

Beat eggs, sugar and vanilla together until thick. This will take about 10 minutes. Blend in the chocolate and flour into the batter.

Pour the batter into 3 eight-inch round cake pans (already greased) and bake for about 10 minutes at 350 degrees. Cool the cakes about 5 minutes.

While the cakes are cooking, you can make a syrup by boiling the water and sugar for about five minutes. Cool it. When it is cooled, add the kirsch.

To make the the buttercream filling, beat the sugar and butter until well blended. Then add egg yolk and beat until fluffy and thick. This should take about five minutes. Blend in the kirsch.

When the cakes have cooled, use a fork to poke the tops of all of them with numerous little holes. Then pour equal parts of the syrup over all of the cakes. The liquid should get absorbed into all of the holes.

Now you can start assembling the cake. Take your largest cake round for the base and cover the top with some of the buttercream filling. Strain the can of sour cherries, and stick some of them in the frosting of this layer. Put the second cake on top, spread with butter cream filling and more cherries. Put the third cake on top.

The final step is to cover the cake with a whipped cream topping. To make the topping, just beat the whipped cream with the confectioners sugar until fluffy and thick (it should be like whipped cream). This will take about 10 minutes. You want this to be thick enough to spread over the cake. You should get medium-sized peaks as you come to the end of the beating.

Frost the top and sides of cake with the whipped cream frosting and decorate with cherries. Put in a safe place until guests arrive to avoid early hijackers.

Germany: Hot potato salad w/ bacon

Same goes for this one on adjusting the ingredients to your liking.

Ingredients:

3 medium white potatoes, boiled

3 slices bacon

1/4 cup chopped onion

1 tbsp. flour

2 tsps. sugar

3/4 tsp. salt

1/4 tsp. celery seeds

1/4 tsp. pepper

1/4 cup water

1 1/2 tbsps. vinegar (you may need extra)

What we did:

Boil the potatoes in their skins. When they are soft (and cooled) remove the skins and slice them into about 1/4 inch rounds. You want them thick enough so they don't fall apart, but not too thick.

In a large frying pan, saute the bacon and remove the meat for later. Leave the bacon fat in the pan and saute the onions until golden brown. Add the flour, sugar, salt, celery seeds and pepper and mix it all together. Stir in the water and vinegar and stir until smooth and well combined. This is going to make a whitish/gray colored sauce. Heat until boiling, and then stir in the potatoes and bacon.

If the mixture seems too dry, add in equal parts of more vinegar and water until the potatoes are all coated and there is some extra sauce. The sauce should be thick, not watery. Adjust the seasonings to your liking. It should have a strong vinegar taste, but not so much that it overpowers the other flavors. Let it cook on very low heat on the stove for a few minutes.

We made the potato salad the night before we planned to eat it so the flavors could meld together.

Germany: Red Cabbage

We ended up improvising quite a bit on all of our recipes. This is a rough guide that is somewhere between what we did and what the recipe called for. One can, obviously add ingredients to taste.

Ingredients:

3 lbs. red cabbage, finely shredded

2 cups wine vinegar

2 tbsps. salt

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 cup bacon fat (the grease)

1 cup sliced onions

1 cup sliced apples

2 pints beef stock

salt

1 onion stuffed with 4 whole cloves and two bay leaves

1/4 cup wine

1 cup jam (redcurrant, strawberry or blackberry - we used strawberry)

What we did:

First thing we did is chop the cabbage into little 1/2 inch wide strips. Then we mixed in the salt, sugar and vinegar.

Heat the bacon fat on the stove in a large pot (you'll have to fit the cabbage in it) and saute the onions and apples. You want them tender, but not browned. Then add the cabbage, mix it all together and let cook for a few minutes.

Add the beef stock, cover and bring to a boil. While it's working, get the stuffed onion in order. You basically just gut the onion and shove all the spices in it. When the stock is boiling toss it in. You will take it out at the end of the cooking.

Let everything simmer for a while until the cabbage is tender, but not mushy. This probably took about a half hour (at least - we weren't really paying attention). About halfway through add some salt and pepper to taste, jelly and wine. Make sure to take a swig for you!

Bring on the brine!

So the very first step of our cooking adventure is done - brining the meat for the sauerbraten.

We ended up going with an eye round of beef, since that's what the guy at the German store dad found recommended. I guess it has more fat in it than a higher end cut, like a top round. Apparently it also makes for a nicer, more traditional presentation.

The recipe we had from the cookbook called for larding the meat, which some research via Google revealed involves using a fairly complicated tool called a larder to shove pieces of fat into the meat. I consulted with my buddies at the Food Network (Emeril, Alton, Bobby, etc.) and none of their recipes online said to do this, so we didn't. Besides, our meat looked fatty enough anyway.

To make the brine, we basically brought the three cups of white vinegar, three cups of water, an onion (chopped obviously), a carrot (also chopped), two bay leaves, eight cloves, 1 tbsp. pickling spices and eight peppercorns to a boil and then let it simmer for five minutes. My dad was getting pretty excited when it started to emit its vinegary aroma. My eyes watered it was so potent.

Then we let it cool to about room temperature, poured it over the meat and stuck it in the fridge where it will live for the next three days and we will have to turn it periodically.

In the meantime, I'll be hitting up the National Chicken Wing Festival on Saturday!

Germany: Rhineland Marinated Pot Roast (Rheinischer Sauerbraten)

We're not really sure where many of our German recipes came from, but we know Dad picked the sauerbraten from The German Cookbook, by Mimi Sheraton. He remembers eating sauerbraten with a ginger snap gravy, which is apparently characteristic of northern Germany. Like many other foods, the sauerbraten varies depending on what region it's from. Some are more vinegary and some might be creamy. Grandma, whose family is from Bavaria, remembers her mom making one that was more on the vinegary side. Apparently none of our family members wrote down their recipes though, so we defer to Ms. Sheraton.

I feel compelled to include this link to Amazon.com where you can purchase her cookbook if you are interested.

Otherwise here are the ingredients we'll be picking up in a few hours after my little bro and I hit the gym (working off the calories is essential to this obsessive eating) and then brining it this afternoon so it can sit about three days.

Without further ado ...

5 lb. rump of beef

bacon or salt pork for larding + 4 slices

salt

3 cups white vinegar

3 cups water

3 large onion

3 bay leaves

14 cloves

8 peppercorns

1 tbsp. pickling spices

1 large carrot

3 tbsp. butter

2 tbsp. flour

lemon juice

1/2 cup white raisins (Blah! I hate raisins. So does my sister But I'm guessing we're not going to win our lobby to exclude them. Dad says you need the raisins.)

tomato puree or sour cream (which we are actually skipping)

Lecker schmecker means yum yum in German... I think.

So my dad is TOTALLY excited about this whole German Oktoberfest situation. Perhaps even more excited than I am. Within a few days of announcing my little blog project a few months ago, Dad sent me a menu with probably two dozen German food options to choose from for the cookoff.

I'm just now becoming clear on where Dad's side of the family comes from (I guess his father came from Alsace-Lorraine - which I guess qualifies as German. I don't think we ever got a real straight answer about his mother... but he's now staking claim to Germany for her as well). Regardless, Dad has all sorts of memories of eating German food with family and friends as a child. At one point, probably when we tired of watching old men in lederhosen, Dad decided he would make us our own Oktoberfest and in those pre-Internet days headed to the Buffalo library to check out cookbooks with recipes that matched the memories of his childhood.

Fifteen years later, we're doing it again. We've decided to keep it fairly simple, settling on a menu of sauerbraten, potato pancakes, German potato salad, dumplings, red cabbage and black forest cake. Yes, this is a simple meal in my family.

We thought about getting some of our supplies at this awesome looking German store Dad found in the city (Buffalo that is - in Western NY, Buffalo is "the city" one refers to). But then we found out they don't have the cut of meat we need until October. So we'll be going to Wegman's instead. The site is still amusing. A pig snorts when you scroll over the menu.

Since you have to brine the sauerbraten for days in advance, we'll be doing that today.

In future cooking adventures, I anticipate posting links to the web sites I find recipes on in advance. But this time around I have pages and pages of copies from many different cookbooks I don't feel like transcribing - and I am not about to violate any copyright issues. So I'm not going to put the entire recipes up. I will put up all of the ingredients, and give you a general gist of how it was prepared when I blog about the cooking.

In other news, Grandma liked the blog. Score! She was cute and sent me an e-mail - yes Grandma e-mails and now follows a blog - about it this morning, saying it reminded her of when we all used to go to Epcot at Disney when I was growing up and ate our way through all the countries. This whole eating thing is nothing new in my family.

She also thought my story about Hohenwarth was pretty funny.

"Your memories of Hohenwarth are just as I had imagined the place must be," she wrote. "The pictures you brought back are more than I thought you would find."

I think it's pretty hilarious my family got to sit back and be amused as I cluelessly, bumbled my way out into the nothingness in the Bavarian Forest.

I also decided to post another picture from Hohenwarth since I have yet to master posting multiple photos with each post. If anyone is schooled in this matter, please advise.