Suriname: Pork and shrimp pepper pot

Suriname sure sounds like one of those obscure places where an interesting meal could be hard to come by. At least that's what I thought. Talk about a misjudgment. The dish I served up from this South American country is probably one of my favorites since I started cooking my away around the world. Who knew!

Like every other kitchen voyage, I pulled Suriname out of the wine bag and then started with some research and planning. I learned that its location in the northeastern part of South America has given it both Latin and Caribbean influences. Its culture and food has also been inspired by the various and eclectic mix of cultures that colonized it over the years, including French, Dutch, Indian and Indonesian. In some U.S. cities - namely NY - Surinamese cuisine appears to be popular enough to sustain entire restaurants.

Now I see why. Some of the popular foods are similar to Indian dishes - curries, chutneys and flat breads. I found recipes that seemed to be the Surinamese take on chicken and rice or pork and beans. Even Emeril has a recipe for a Surinamese vatapa, a shrimp and fish stew.

As tempting as any Emeril recipe is, I opted instead for a pepper pot, a meat and vegetable stew spiced with habanero peppers. I found this recipe on the Food Network web site and made a few alterations, namely using pork instead of chicken. My Publix was out of okra so I threw in a few brussels sprouts (don't ask me why ... I always thought the two veggies tasted kind of similar). And I seasoned the meat with the Badia Sazon Tropical spice blend that I picked up at the SoBe food festival.

The result was a thick and flavorful stew with layers of complex, yet complimenting flavors. The sweet potatoes end up melting into the broth, making for a creamy backdrop to the meats and kale, and balancing the kick of the habanero pepper! This one was a huge winner.

Vietnam, revisited: Pho ba

Having barely made a dent in my to do list of countries - I've done 15 so far - there really isn't any time to go back for repeat visits.

But I guess sometimes in life instead of moving forward we do go back to places we've already been. Maybe there's something we missed the first time around. Maybe there's something comforting in knowing what to expect. Maybe we just like it.

In this case, I decided to have another go around with Vietnam after trying the roasted chicken soup at this place in Sarasota, Miss Saigon.

I was skeptical at first when my friends raved about the dish. I've never been a big fan of chicken soup. Or chicken for that matter. It can be so cliche. Would all of those Asian spices really kick it up to my palate?

Despite my wariness, I decided to try it on this cold, crappy day right before Thanksgiving.

It was amazing.

It comes as a subtle broth with rice noodles in a big bowl, a crisp, roasted chicken on the side along with jalapenos, bean sprouts, etc. The lightness of the broth really lets the anise stand out, and I love that flavor.

It's so simple I figured I should be able to replicate it at home. So I did some Internet research to come up with key ingredients and set out to create my own version.

My first stab at it was pretty good. Not quite like the restaurant, but still tasty.

I'll fully acknowledge I cheated and used store bought broth, rather than making my own. (Vietnamese cooks would probably cringe to hear this since the broth is the focus of many of their dishes). I used the Kitchen Basics all natural kind. This worked out OK for the most part, but the flavors of the broth were a little overpowering and kind of took over the dish more than I would have liked. Next time, I'll try it with the low sodium version, which has a milder flavor.

I also just used a rotisserie chicken from the supermarket. Come on. Aren't return trips supposed to be leisurely and easy?

Here's what I came up with so far. Thoughts?

What you need:

2 cartons Kitchen Basics stock

2 yellow onions, sliced

2 cinnamon sticks

5 pieces star anise

3 inches peeled ginger

1 tbsp. coriander

1 rotisserie chicken

1 package rice noodles

For serving:

Basil leaves

Scallions

Bean sprouts

Sliced, fresh jalapenos

Soy sauce

Sriacha sauce (the really spicy Asian kind)

What I did:

I started by putting the two cartons of chicken broth in a pot and adding a few cups of water and the coriander. I put the cinnamon sticks, star anise and ginger in a coffee filter, tied it with kitchen string and added to the pot to bring to a boil. I let it simmer for about an hour before adding the sliced onions and simmering for another 10 minutes until they were tender.

While all of this was going on, I cut the chicken into soup size pieces and prepared the rice noodles as instructed on the package. When the broth was done, I removed the coffee filter with spices.

Pour the broth over some noodles and add desired mix ins to taste.

I know, kind of anticlimactic after all of that. But easy, right?

Poland: Mushroom Soup

I couldn't let my holiday vacation start without making one last legitimate global blog effort.

A few weeks ago, when I meant to get back on track, I tried my luck with the wine bag of fun and drew Poland. Immediately, my mind flooded with memories of the best thing I ate when I was in the country - mushroom soup.

(And seriously ... I did not cheat this time. I really pulled out Poland!)

Anyway ... I visited Poland when I was in college on a tour for college newspaper editors. The trip involved spending two weeks riding around on a tour bus through three different countries with people I didn't know, but shared some sort of odd passion with. That's the same trip that took me to Israel. Anyone who ever worked at one knows it takes an interesting person to run a college newspaper. We had a whole bus full of them.

Poland was the first country we hit, the first phase of the trip when everyone was still feeling each other out out to determine who would be the most fun and who would, well, be a little creepy.

We visited Auschwitz and Warsaw and Krakow. I remember seeing the old ghettos, walking through a beautiful rose garden dedicated to Chopin and touring the castle where all of the Polish kings are buried. Then there was some story about a fire breathing dragon that went after sheep and young virgins until being defeated by a noble young suitor. I still find that story amusing for some reason. Maybe because there's a large, metal statue that spits fire at the castle in the dragon's honor. I didn't see a memorial to the dashing young suitor.

But anyway...

I'm sure we ate all of the standard Polish fare - kielbasa, pierogis - the few days we were there. But the only thing I remember eating was the mushroom soup. Maybe that was because I found it warm and comforting when everything else around me was kind of odd and unfamiliar.

It was a day or two into the trip, but we were running around doing and seeing so much it felt like we had been at it forever. I remember it was cool and dark outside when the bus pulled up at this dimly lit tavern. I was tired and drained, overwhelmed and still a little jet lagged when I took my seat at the long wooden table with the people I barely knew for my pri fixe dinner.

The soup was probably a starter to some other standard Polish meal, but it's the thing I remember most about being in Poland. That and the dragon.

It came in a bread bowl that absorbed the yummy juices from the mushrooms. It was somewhat creamy but with big chunks of delicious wild mushrooms, apparently a big staple in the Polish diet.

I don't know where we ate it, or what exactly was in it, but it stands out in my memory as one of the best things I've ate in my life. Seriously. Maybe it was just my memory.

So soup was the first thing I thought of when I pulled Poland out of the wine bag. Finding an awesome mushroom soup recipe.

I studied different versions on the Net and came up with my own that seemed to combine some of the best flavors, and then some. I used a combination of dried porcini (extremely flavorful), shitake and portobello mushrooms.

It's pretty good, but still doesn't stand up to the one I remember. I guess all good things come with practice.

Polish mushroom soup

6 tbsps. butter
3 yellow onions

6 carrots, chopped

4 stalks of celery chopped
1 cup Italian parsley, chopped

1 cup fresh dill, chopped

1/2 cup thyme, chopped

1/2 cup rosemary, chopped

3 bay leafs (dried)

2 oz. dried porcini mushrooms, chopped

1/2 lb. shitake mushrooms, chopped

3 large portobello mushroom caps, chopped

8 cups beef broth

Salt, pepper

2 cups sour cream

2 cups whole milk

1 loaf sourdough bread

What to do:

Bring half of the beef stock to a boil. When it is boiling, add the dried porcini mushrooms to "reconstitute them." Cook for about five minutes and then let drain, saving the even more yummy beef broth for later.

Melt 3 tbsps. of the butter in a pot and then saute the onions until soft, about five minutes. Add the carrots and celery and then let look for about 10 minutes. Season with some salt and pepper.

Meanwhile, melt the rest of the butter in a saute pan. Add all of the chopped mushrooms and let cook for about five minutes until soft.

Add the mushrooms to the other vegetables and stir in the herbs. Add the beef broth - both the reserved and the rest - and bring to a boil. Let simmer for about 30 minutes.

After the soup has simmered some over low heat, add the sour cream and milk. Add salt and pepper to taste. Let cook over low heat until ready to serve. The soup will thicken as it cooks. Serve with crusty bread.

Vietnam: Pho, Part II

The first time I ate Vietnamese food I was a freshman in college.

A group of us from the college newspaper, The Daily Orange, had driven down to Washington, D.C. to cover some protests at the IMF and World Bank. This was on the heels of the big World Trade Organization protests that year in Seattle.

We traveled a lot at The D.O., and those trips are among some of my best college memories, despite the fact you always ended up with an eclectic mish mosh of personalities with nothing in common except for a passion for journalism.

It seems like there were five of us on that trip, driving the five or so hours together from Syracuse, NY and crashing at a Super Eight motel just outside of Washington. We packed so many people in those rooms that somebody always got the floor. I'm not sure how I got through my four years there never having that privilege.

We registered as credentialed members of the media and met up with some kids from SU, spending the better part of the day traipsing around Washington following these peace-loving activists.

The most vivid memory I have of that day was walking with this group of 20 or so protesters as they stopped outside of the World Bank building. All of the sudden, about three times as many police in riot gear appeared and came charging at us. Protesters started running everywhere and the riot police went after them.

For some reason it seemed like a good idea to pull this reporter I was with into a little alcove of a building we were standing in front of to get out of the fray. But one of the riot police saw us there, came up and pointed his gun of pepper spray right at us.

"We're with the media," I yelled, holding up my press credentials.

"I don't care," he said, dousing us with pepper spray.

I guess it could have been worse. I watched one of the guys we were with get clubbed by another officer. But the thing that really sucks about pepper spray is that after the initial sting, it calms down, but reactivates when it gets wet.

Then it started raining.

We kept moving forward though, tired, wet and burning, following the protesters around Washington and covering the story. I don't remember how we did it or when, but at some point we must have filed something.

I don't think we ate all day, and at the end of many hours out and about we all agreed to meet up on M Street. Somehow we ended up at this Vietnamese buffet.

It was a small buffet, no bigger than a typical kitchen table. I don't remember what I ate. All I remember is that everything was amazing. There was just something about the the wholesome warmth of the flavors that I found so comforting after all this drama. Besides, I was really hungry.

I fear my pho pales in comparison to my memories of this first Vietnamese experience. The broth seems to greasy, despite my efforts to skim the fat from it. The short ribs were probably a bad call. Some other recipes called for ox tail.

Still, for some reason as I sat on the patio last night smelling the aroma of the beef stock brewing with the scent of the onions and anise it brought back all these memories.

I guess it's one of those things I may never know whether that Vietnamese place was really that good, or if it was the moment that made the memory.

Vietnam: Pho

So I cheated again this week, but for good reason. As previously noted, I've been feeling a little under the weather and was craving a hot, soothing, yummy soup to make me feel better.

At some point this week I found myself craving Vietnamese soup, the spicy liquid being a perfect remedy to clear your sinuses. I hit Pho Cali on Main Street and had the beef stew (which is actually more like a soup) that I love. It made me feel so much better that I decided this weekend I would make my own version of the national dish of Vietnam, Pho.

I searched Food Network and found this recipe for "Emerilized" Banh Pho Bo, Vietnamese beef noodle soup. Emerilized sounded pretty good to me, so I figured I had a winner.

I went back and forth a few times on whether to actually try this today, given that it would take six hours to cook the broth. Would it really be worth the wait to eat it? Please reference "Emerilized." Yes. Yes I decided it would be.

The recipe calls for a meaty bone, and I decided to go with short ribs. I also don't have a grill, so I just stuck the onion stuffed with anise under the broiler until it got blackened. The best thing about this dish is the smell of the anise as it boils on the stove for six hours. It made my kitchen smell amazing!

I threw a few serrano peppers in as the broth cooked just to, well you know, kick it up a notch.

But I got a late start to all this, and with three hours left to simmer the broth at 6:30 I started to come to the realization that this wouldn't be ready for dinner. Once the broth is done, there's all sorts of other things that needed to get done. And quite frankly, I was pretty tired.

So the plan at this point is to let the broth boil some more, and then finish the pho off for dinner tomorrow.

To be continued ...

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!