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A Heavenly Asian Cookbook

“If food doesn’t smell good, it doesn’t  taste good,” said Carol Selva Rajah. That’s what she learned from the Chinese amah who cared for her as a child. And that’s why her 10th and latest book is called “Heavenly Fragrance” (Periplus Editions; $39.95).

Rajah grew up in Malaysia and Singapore, where richly flavored food is commonplace. Her parents were Sri Lankan and Malaysian, introducing her early to these fascinating cuisines.

“People cooked with aromas. They stir-fried very slowly so they teased the aromas out,” she said during an appetizer party and book-signing at Tanzore in Los Angeles. Rajah, who now lives in Sydney, Australia, brought some seasonings with her, then borrowed others from the Indian spices on hand at Tanzore.

Her large, handsomely illustrated book is a wonderful guide to fresh and dried Asian ingredients. Although I use such things regularly, I found much to learn, and I would recommend the book to anyone interested in Asian cooking. especially that of Southeast Asia.

Gathering the ingredients may require trips to ethnic shops, but the effort will be worth it. There is plenty of inspiration in such recipes as tuna salad with green mango and papaya, Cambodian pineapple fish soup, plum sauce chicken wings baked in a flash and lemongrass and coconut creme caramel.

Cooking in Tanzore’s kitchen, Rajah produced a fragrant sampling of the book. The dish that especially intrigued me was an intricately-spiced eggplant sambal. Although the recipe seemed to require a lot of work—dry roasting and grinding two sets of spices—I tried it anyway. The procedure was straightforward and easy, rewarding me with clouds of exotic perfume.

In the book, Rajah suggests serving the sambal with baked ham, moussaka and crisp lettuce or with steamed or fried fish. But at Tanzore, she presented it as an appetizer, spooned on top of plain yogurt in a small glass. And that is the way I like it.

It's best to make the sambal the day before serving. This allows the seasonings to blend, and the flavor will be heavenly, to borrow a word from Rajah’s book.

EGGPLANT SAMBAL WITH BLACK MUSTARD AND CASHEWS
From “Heavenly Fragrance” by Carol Selva Rajah (Periplus)

Fish curry powder (see recipe below)
1 ½ pounds slender Asian eggplants
2 teaspoons salt
1½ teaspoons grated fresh turmeric root or ½ teaspoon ground turmeric
1 cup light olive oil, for frying
¼ cup raw cashews, dry-roasted

Spice Paste:

2 teaspoons cumin seeds, dry-roasted
1 teaspoon fennel seeds, dry-roasted
2 stalks lemongrass, thick bottom part only
2 inches gingerroot, peeled and sliced
5 cloves garlic, peeled
2 onions, peeled and quartered
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons fish curry powder
1 tablespoon black mustard seeds, roughly crushed in a mortar
2 teaspoons ground red pepper
½ cup white vinegar
2 tablespoons shaved palm sugar or dark brown sugar

First prepare the fish curry powder and set aside.

Cut the eggplants into 1-inch-thick slices. Combine the salt and turmeric in a small bowl and mix well. Brush the eggplant slices with the mixture and set aside for 10 minutes, then press between paper towels to dry them.

Heat the olive oil in a skillet, and in small batches, fry the eggplant slices over medium heat until light brown and tender. Remove from the heat and drain on paper towels. Roast the cashews and set aside.

To prepare the spice paste, grind the cumin and fennel seeds in a spice grinder until fine. Discard the outer layers of the lemongrass and slice the inner part. Combine the roasted spices, lemongrass, ginger, garlic and onions and grind to a smooth paste in a mortar or food processor.

Heat the extra virgin olive oil in a skillet, add the ground paste and sauté over medium heat until fragrant, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the fish curry powder and sauté 1 minute longer.

Move the spice mixture to the sides of the pan, increase the heat to high and add the mustard seeds. Cook until they begin to pop, then combine them with the spice mixture and mix well. Stir in the ground red pepper, vinegar and sugar.

Add the cashews and fried eggplant slices and toss until the eggplant is coated well with the sauce, taking care not to tear the pieces. Adjust the seasonings and remove from heat. Serve hot or cold.

Makes 6 servings.

Fish Curry Powder:

3 tablespoons coriander seeds
4 teaspoons fennel seeds
2 teaspoons fenugreek seeds
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon mustard seeds
4 dried finger-length red chiles, stems discarded, broken into pieces

In a small skillet, separately dry roast the coriander, fennel, fenugreek, cumin and mustard seeds and the chiles until fragrant, 2 to 3 minutes each. Let them cool and then grind all the spices to a fine powder in a mortar or spice grinder. Store in a sealed jar, refrigerated or frozen.

Makes ½ cup.

A Curry from Buenos Aires

You never know what will turn up in the book shops along Avenida Corrientes in Buenos Aires. Besides the new books, there are old, out of print books, used books and overstocks that failed to find buyers.

On this last trip I turned up a real prize, “Los Platos de Mi Mesa” (“Dishes from my Table”) by a restaurateur of the past, Roberto Fernandez Beyro.

In addition to owning a popular restaurant in Buenos Aires called Monty’s, now long gone, Fernandez Beyro had managed the kitchens of the exclusive Jockey Club and Plaza Hotel and for a time had a restaurant in Rio de Janeiro.

Writing more than 20 years ago, he lamented the lack of gastronomic culture in Argentina, where traditional dishes inherited from Spain and enriched with contributions from other South American countries and the Caribbean were “deformed,” and attempts at creativity produced “absurd mixtures.”

His antidote was this book of simple, well thought out recipes, mostly continental, but also traditional and international.

I tried his curry de pollo (chicken curry) and found it delightful, even elegant. Showing a restrained continental approach, it's more like braised chicken and vegetables seasoned with curry powder than a spicy Indian dish.

Fernandez Beyro served the curry with rice timbales on what must have been lovely occasions. There would have been wine too, because he was an admirer of the wines produced in Argentina.

My accompaniments were basmati rice seasoned with a yellow condiment for rice that I bought in a supermarket in Buenos Aires; a fruity chutney and a red wine, as Fernandez Beyro recommended reds with chicken.

On the basis of just this dish, I can say that my 10 pesos (about $3) were well spent.

CURRY DE POLLO
Adapted from “Los Platos de Mi Mesa” by Roberto Fernandez Beyro (Emece Editores; 1986)

2 pounds chicken pieces, such as legs and thighs
Salt
1 onion, finely chopped
2 small stalks celery, chopped
1 ½ carrots, cut into small dice
1 small apple, peeled and chopped
1 small yellow chile or other chile, seeded and chopped
1 tablespoon curry powder
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon flour
Black pepper
¼ cup whipping cream

Trim the chicken pieces of skin and excess fat. Place in a Dutch oven. Cover with water and add salt to taste. Bring to a boil, cover and simmer until tender, about 45 minutes. Let cool in the broth, then remove the chicken pieces and tear off the meat, discarding the bones. Drain the broth and reserve.

Meanwhile, prepare the onion, celery, carrots, apple and chile and set aside. Blend the curry powder with 3 tablespoons of the reserved broth after it has cooled.

Heat the olive oil in the cleaned Dutch oven. Add the vegetables, apple and chile and cook until reduced and very tender, 20 to 25 minutes, stirring occasionally to keep from burning.

Add the flour, 1 cup of the reserved broth and the curry powder mixture. Blend well. Add the chicken pieces and gently combine. Add salt and pepper to taste. Cover and simmer gently 10 minutes. When ready to serve, stir in the cream and heat through.

If the curry should thicken too much, stir in some of the reserved broth. Use the remainder to cook rice to go with the curry. 

Makes 4 servings.

Microwaving by the Book

I tend to scorn microwave cookbooks. They seem practical and dull, oriented toward machines rather than food. The frequency with which they turn up in thrift shops indicates that others feel the same way.

Nevertheless, I bought a microwave cookbook recently. Of course this one is different, exotic and fun. I picked it up at Higginbothams in Chennai (Madras), a grand, high-ceilinged place that that is India's oldest book shop.

The book is “Cook and See. Part 5,” published by S. Meenakshi Ammal Publications in Chennai. The recipes cover north and south Indian dishes and continental food, a legacy of the British.  All are vegetarian.

Author Priya Ramkumar writes in her introduction: “This book is an attempt to prove that microwave ovens can dish out a variety of yummy recipes at the touch of a button.”

I have to admit that she is right, judging by her book at least, and my long-standing prejudice is wrong.

The recipes work, with minor changes that may reflect the difference between microwave ovens in India and the United States. And they are delicious, like this cream of tomato soup, which I have  adjusted slightly for American cooks. 

CREAM OF TOMATO SOUP
From “Cook and See, Part V” by Priya Ramkumar

1 pound tomatoes, roughly chopped
1 medium onion, peeled and quartered
1 potato (I used a small russet potato), peeled and quartered
1 large carrot, peeled and roughly chopped
1½  to 2 cups water
2 tablespoons cornstarch
3 tablespoons milk
1 to 2 teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons salt
¼ teaspoon white pepper
Heavy cream
Cilantro

Combine the tomatoes, onion, potato and carrot in a microwave proof deep bowl. Sprinkle with ½ cup water. Cover and microwave on high 8 to 10 minutes, or until the vegetables are tender. (In my oven, this took 15 minutes).

Blend the mixture in a blender (or with a hand blender). Put through a sieve to remove seeds and peel.

Stir the cornstarch into the milk until smooth. Add this to the soup along with the sugar, salt and pepper. Add 1 cup water, or more if needed to thin the soup. Cover and microwave on high 3 to 4 minutes (8 minutes in my oven) until heated through.

Stir well. Ladle into heated bowls and garnish with a swirl of cream and cilantro.

Variations:  Season with ½ to 1 teaspoon garam masala. Add canned sweet corn. Garnish with croutons.

Makes 4 servings.

A Webzine for Food, Wine, Travel Lovers

Read about food, wine and journeys that wander from Tunisia to the California desert in an online magazine that you can see by  clicking on this link: http://www.global-writes.com.

The articles are  written by an international group of professional writers who, if you combine their resumes, have been almost everywhere, eaten almost everything and sipped the best wines.

Save the link so that you can see future issues of Global Writes, which is edited by Kim Rahilly and features the work of members of the International Food, Wine, & Travel Writers Association.

Eating India: A Culinary Tour

I could pack up and head for India tomorrow. That’s how mesmerizing it is to read Chitrita Banerji’s book  “Eating India” (Bloomsbury; $24.95), an account of her culinary meanderings over a period of three years. 

Banerji, a Bengali transplanted to Cambridge, Mass., has written a great deal about Indian food, including “Life and Food in Bengal,” which I bought after spending time in Calcutta, her home city.

That book includes recipes. The new one does not, but it evokes extraordinary food images. Just imagine this legendary sweet of the past: a pomegranate formed of a sugar shell that encloses seeds of jellied pear juice molded around almond kernels.

As she travels, Banerji meets friends for memorable meals, interviews culinary authorities, looks at history and architecture and researches such themes as a possible Portuguese influence on Bengali milk sweets, although she finds only a nebulous link. In this book, though, the journey is more important than the results.

Banerji visits Amritsar, Delhi, Benaras (Varanasi), Bombay, Goa, Bangalore, Hyderabad, Cochin and many other sites, including northeastern India, home to tribal groups whose cooking shows the influence of Burma and Thailand.

Along the way, we learn about the “Jewish cooks” of Calcutta, not cooks of the Jewish faith but Muslims who prepared food for the community of Baghdadi Jews that was once prominent there. Then there are the East Indians of Bombay, converted centuries ago to Catholicism by the Portuguese and possessors of a little known but distinctive cuisine. And the Syrian Christians of Kerala, the only Indians who eat without religious or cultural restrictions.

At the other extreme are the rigidly vegetarian Jains, who eat nothing pulled from the earth for fear that an insect could have been harmed and avoid seeded fruits and vegetables because seeds imply life. Banarji recalls that, as a child in a Calcutta household, she was required to wash her hands if she touched, no matter how lightly, a bowl contaning mashed potatoes seasoned with onions or a pot of cooked rice.

The book ends with a poignant observation that even her best efforts to cook Indian food at home “will produce only an approximation of what I grew up eating; things don’t taste the same in India and America.” That’s all the more reason to go to India with Banerji's book in hand.

"Tasting Chile," a Food Lover's Guide

Chilean cuisine is little known outside the country, and for good reason. Only there is it possible to appreciate the freshness of the produce, the variety of seafood harvested from a long coast, the regional specialties and the excellent wines.

If a trip isn’t in the offing, the best alternative is to read Daniel Joelson’s book, “Tasting Chile” (Hippocrene, 2004). It’s packed with  information about food, restaurants, customs and history, making it a travel guide as well as a cookbook.

Married to a Chilean, Joelson has traveled up and down the long skinny country. To find  traditional recipes, he sought out home cooks and small restaurants in out of the way places, avoiding Santiago’s international cuisine.

The recipes that I’ve tried were delicious, and unusual.  I’ve never seen anything like his salad of tuna and giant white corn, a variety that grows in northern Chile.

Ajiaco, a beef soup with chiles, is credited to Isabel Mansilla, a onetime fishmonger who opened a restaurant in Puerto Varas. Like much Chilean food, ajiaco is simple and hearty. For Joelson, it was “the perfect tonic to a frigid winter day in the Chilean south.”

There are recipes for pebre, the spicy tomato salsa that is on every Chilean table; for empanadas, which are as well-liked in Chile as in Argentina; for cazuela, which is a meat and vegetable stew that originated in Spain; for pastel de choclo, the corn-topped meat pie that is also popular in Peru, and many other dishes.

Wine suggestions accompany the recipes, and the book ends with a chapter that provides contact information for Chilean wineries. 

I learned about “Tasting Chile” after a trip to Santiago, and it has become one of my favorites. I like the warm way Joelson writes and the intriguing bits of local color that accompany the recipes.

Joelson has also written “Chilenismos” (Hippocrene 2004), a dictionary and phrasebook that focuses on Chile’s unique Spanish.  The cuisine has its own terminology, and this is explained in “Tasting Chile.”   Malaya is a cut of beef, for example, not the Malay peninsula. And pino isn’t a pine tree. It’s the most common filling for empanadas—ground beef, onions and olives.

Beef Soup from Chile

HOT PEPPER AND BEEF SOUP
(Ajiaco)
From “Tasting Chile” by Daniel Joelson

3 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion, cut in julienne strips
4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 small red bell pepper, cut in julienne strips
1 pound boneless stewing beef, cut in 2x1-inch rectangular pieces
Salt
8 cups water
1 ½ pounds boiling potatoes, cut like fat French fries (about 5x1 inches)
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 medium dried hot chile, cut in thin strips, or ¼ teaspoon hot red pepper flakes, plus additional hot pepper to taste
1 beef bouillon cube
2 eggs
Chopped parsley

Heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in a deep pot over medium heat. When the oil is hot, add the onion, garlic and bell pepper and cook for 5 to 7 minutes or until the onion is translucent

Remove the vegetables from the pot. Add the remaining 1 tablespoon oil and heat over medium high heat. Add the beef and salt to taste. Brown the meat on all sides and cook until any liquid evaporates.

Return the vegetables to the pot and add the water, potatoes, oregano, hot chile and bouillon cube. Cover and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat and simmer, covered, for about 25 minutes, or until the potatoes are tender. Adjust the flavor by adding additional salt and hot pepper.

Just before removing the soup from the heat, add the eggs and mix thoroughly. Sprinkle the parsley over the soup and serve at once.

Makes 4 servings.   

A Tour Guide to Central Coast Wines

It’s a pleasure to read “California’s Central Coast, The Ultimate Winery Guide” by Mira Advani Honeycutt (Chronicle Books, 2007; $22.95). Honeycutt is not only knowledgeable but writes with such passion that you want to pack up and go touring in her footsteps.

Definitions of terms such as tannins, terroir and veraison blend smoothly into passages that capture the romance and beauty of the wine country. A brief section on vineyard operations outlines how wine grapes are grown, harvested and processed. This provides an intelligent base for the fun part of wine touring, which Honeycutt promotes with tips on which wineries have the best tours, most elaborate tasting rooms, the best picnic settings, prettiest gardens and so forth.

The publisher’s format limited the book to 30 wineries, but these are sufficient to convey the pioneering enthusiasm and serious work that have garnered acclaim for Central Coast winemakers. Additional wineries are listed in a directory to make the book a complete guide.

The areas covered are the Santa Ynez and Santa Maria Valleys in Santa Barbara County and, in San Luis Obispo County, Paso Robles and the Arroyo Grande and Edna Valleys. Advani lives in Los Angeles, close enough to commute, so she knows the region well.

In a foreward, Jim Clendenen, the iconic winemaker of Au Bon Climat, traces the history of the Central Coast.  Photographs by area resident Kirk Irwin are stunning. Along with each winery description, Honeycutt provides driving directions, phone numbers, hours, picnic possibilities, tasting fees and the wines typically offered for tasting.

But there is more than wine in this book. Honeycutt explores towns and hamlets such as Santa Ynez and Ballard, suggests farmers markets to visit and artisanal food products to buy.  The book is loaded with dining advice too, even where to get a great wood-fired pizza at the end of a hard day’s wine touring (hint: it’s in Los Alamos).

   

CURRY THE CONQUEROR

I have more Indian cookbooks than anybody could possibly use, but my library wouldn't be complete without "Curry, a Tale of Cooks & Conquerors" by Lizzie Collingham (Oxford University Press, 2006; $28).

A former Cambridge research fellow, Collingham traces the history of India in such an appetizing way that it is hard to put the book down. From the Mogul invaders and their exquisite cuisine to the bland concoctions of the British, India took it all in, worked it over and came up with cleverly hybridized dishes.

The colonials were also conquered, at least in a culinary way. This is why chicken tikka masala is now the national dish of England, not fish and chips. With an unbending regard for decorum, members of the Raj dined in full evening dress, despite stifling heat. And they took as a matter of course such indignities as "the alighting of cock-roaches on the face while at table."

The word curry, writes Collingham, "became not just a term that the British used to describe an unfamiliar set of Indian stews and ragouts, but a dish in its own right, created for the British in India."

The Portuguese, who came earlier, introduced chile peppers, which are now so closely linked to Indian cuisine that it is surprising to learn they are not native to the subcontinent.

As many as 20 chiles may go into vindaloo, a Goan adaptation of a Portuguese dish of meat cooked in wine vinegar and garlic. In Portuguese Goa, Indian seasonings such as ginger, tamarind, turmeric and chiles went into the pot. When the British invaded Goa, they took such a liking to this dish that it too became a staple in England.

The few recipes in the book include an excellent one for vindaloo (see below). Collingham's version is relatively mild but rich in flavor and can be made hotter if desired. According to Collingham, the British favored duck vindaloo, but pork is the option I chose. The advantage of vindaloo is it keeps well and tastes even better when reheated. 

Julia Child's "My Life in France"

She liked finely ground salt, white pepper and turnips. She didn't look down on garlic presses. And for a Valentine photo, she posed nude in a tubful of bubbles with husband Paul.

This is the  Julia Child we get to know in  "My Life in France," her  final book. Published this spring, it is a charming memoir, sensitively written and honest enough to include spiky remarks about her collaborators on the landmark book, "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" (Simone Beck and Louisette Bertholle).

Child no doubt felt comfortable in relating her most personal thoughts because co-author Prud'homme is the grandson of her husband's brother, Charles. Almost all of the photographs in the book are by Paul Child, to whom the book is dedicated.  Child died in 1994.

Julia  Child died 10 years later,  just before her 92nd birthday.

In these pages the beloved French Chef recalls her early years in France, when she fell passionately in love with the country and its cuisine.  We witness her first meal there--oysters on the half shell, sole meunière, salade verte, fromage blanc and dark filter coffee at La Couronne in Rouen, accompanied by a bottle of Pouilly-Fumé.  "It was the most exciting meal of my life," she said.

Child  threw herself into mastering every nuance of  the  cuisine, repeating each dish until perfected.  She had no inkling of fame, but cooked for the love of it. Hard work and inconveniences such as attending class in the hot cramped basement kitchen at L'école (the e should be uppercase, but I can't get my computer to do it).  du Cordon Bleu Paris couldn't stop her.

Child took a few swipes at the Cordon Bleu too. "The school's hallways were filled with an air of petty jealousy and distrust,"she says..  This was engendered by Madame Elizabeth Brassart, "the school's short, thin, rather disagreeable owner, " who, says Child "made it quite clear that she didn't like me or any Americans."

The road to expertise hit a few rocky places. Child remembers a lunch where she served a friend "the most vile eggs Florentine one could imagine outside of England." Child ate the disaster stoically.

"I made sure not to apologize for it. This was a rule of mine," she says.

The book takes Child through the publication of "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" in 1961 and its sequel and her success as a television chef. By the end, she's a celebrity. But the early days, when she cooked and ate for pure pleasure, are the most interesting.

The last words of the book recall that first meal at La Couronne. "I can still almost taste it," she says. "And thinking back on it now reminds me that the pleasures of the table, and of life, are infinite—toujours bon appétit!'