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Welcome to the first of a series of short webisodes called Pan Asian, where I share my love of Asian cuisine–from Bombay to Beijing. As an avid home cook and adventurous gastronaut, I know Asian food to be delicious, healthy, inexpensive, and easy to prepare, and I’m going to show you how to make such favorites as Chingri Malai Curry from Bangladesh, for starters. These short, informal presentations are meant to take you through all the ingredients and steps you need to make such tasty, authentic dishes in your own kitchen.

All of this footage was shot by myself using the new I-pod nano with video and edited with I-movie.

Chingri Malai Curry

Ingredients

2-inch (5cm) piece fresh ginger root, roughly chopped

10 garlic cloves, roughly chopped

6 small onions, roughly chopped

1 cup vegetable oil

1 3/4 lb (800g) jumbo shrimp, peeled & devined

1 Tbsp ground turmeric

1 Tbsp salt

3 cinnamon leaves or bay leaves

2 Tbsp ground cumin

4 green chilies, slit lengthwise

3/4 cup thick coconut milk

1 tsp sugar (optional)

5 green cardamom pods, shelled and finely ground

2 Tbsp ghee

Method:

1.) Blend the ginger and garlic together in a food processor to make a fine paste. Remove and set aside. Blend the onions to a fine paste with 1/3 cup of oil.

2.) Season the shrimp with 1/2 tsp each of turmeric and salt. Heat 2 Tbsp of the oil in a non-stick frying pan and sear the shrimp briefly, then remove and set aside.

3.) Heat the remaining oil in a heavy frying pan and add the onion paste with the cinnamon leaves. Saute over medium heat for 10 minutes or until light brown, stirring occasionally. Mix together the cumin, remaining turmeric, ginger-garlic paste and 2/3 cup of water, then add to onions. Reduce the heat to low and cook for a further 5-8  minutes, stirring regularly. Stir on the remaining salt, the green chilies, and the shrimp and cook for 2-3 minutes.

4.) Mix in the coconut milk and simmer for 2-3 minutes or until the shrimp are just cooked, adding a little more water if necessary. Adjust the seasoning with salt and sugar and sprinkle with the cardamom powder, and stir in the ghee. Serve immediately with steamed rice.

serves 4

lunch today: Chingri Malai curry, red rice, sauteed greens and fresh sliced tomatoes

[recipe from the book, Curry Cuisine]

As I put down my shovel after partially digging the front stoop out from under three feet of snow I realize that I am a long way from Sri Lanka. But regardless, I stopped to remember that this day (in addition to being Bob Marley’s birthday), is indeed the 62nd anniversary of our independence from Britain in 1948, ending some 500 odd years of colonial rule.  Sri Lankans are luckier than most, however. We have always managed to preserve our culture as well as a language, Sinhalese, which is spoken no where else on the planet. At the same time, we represent a multi-cultural haven where different groups—Buddhist, Hindu, Muslim, and Christian—have co-existed peacefully. Recently, we have shown tremendous resiliency in the face of the utter devastation of the 2004 tsunami as well as fortitude and resolve in finally defeating the terrorist scourge that has plagued the island in the form of the Tamil Tigers. There is a tremendous opportunity at hand, and I hope that the people of Sri Lanka and their newly elected president Mahinda Rajapakse, seize it. For the world is watching right now, and we can show them a thing or two. We can teach them about tolerance for others and  a respect for differences and how a nation can come together after disaster and war; heal old wounds; and take steps towards a brighter future together.  If anything, that’s what independence day means to me.

So instead of doing a usual post about food, I wanted to share some of these videos I made about some of Sri Lanka’s other cultural treasures.  Enjoy!

Merit Palace

After such a great meal at the Himalayan Yak last week, I felt a deep yearning in the pit of my stomach to explore the cuisine of the region a little more, so when I found out about Merit Palace (formerly Merit Farms), my interest was piqued.  What attracted my attention was the fact that this small storefront actually contained a whole Asian food court serving up Indian, Pakistani, Bangladeshi, Nepali, Tibetan, and Bhutanese specialties. Wow! All that food under one roof! Who wouldn’t want to check it out? So I grabbed and friend and once again found myself on the 7 train to Jackson Heights.

We almost walked right by the place it is so unassuming (and literally steps from the 7 train). Once inside you are confronted with a cozy cafeteria-like atmosphere where diners can browse the offerings displayed in steaming chafing dishes, and share tables. We walked by the fried shrimp, buriyani, and all the familiar looking Indian dishes, until we found ourselves at Namaste at the back. I had seen the write-ups, but nothing beats personal experience, so after a few questions for the man behind the counter we ordered a few dishes. The chili beef looked good, as did the freshly made momo (chicken for us), and some hot chicken soup for a cold day. We could always order more, or even something else if we fancied it because this was not a formal restaurant with a wait staff.

The food arrived very quickly, too, and we dug right in. The chili beef was grilled and cut into bite-sized chunks. Though alone, not too spicy, when dipped in either of two sauces—red or orange–it came to life. It had a flavor, which I would call interesting, having not tasted anything like it before. But I kept on popping tidbits in my mouth, hoping for some recognition from my taste buds. The momo was perfectly steamed, and actually took more than one bite to finish. It was served with a chicken broth for dipping that I actually thought was the chicken soup we had ordered. My bad. The real chicken soup, when it arrived, was much more complex and flavorful–chunks of white meat chicken submerged in a hearty broth along with green onions and chopped cilantro. It reminded me of chicken soup I’ve had in Mexico, but then again, some dishes have universal appeal.

It was good food—not great–but still Asian food fast and hot and with plenty of choice for all.  I could see coming home late, and, not feeling like cooking, ducking into Merit Palace for a quick dose of something beyond the banal.

Merit Palace

Dumpling Palace (Tashi Delek)

Nepali, Tibetan & Bhutanese cuisine

37-67 74th St. Jackson Heights, NY

(7 train to 74th St./Roosevelt)

Fresh cane juice on the streets of Salvador de Bahia

While doing research for my book, I was shocked to find out that it was the Portuguese who introduced chilies, among other plants, to Asia. That’s right. This mainstay of most Asian cuisines was originally a New World crop found most plentifully in South America’s Amazon basin. What confounded me even more was the fact that Brasilian cuisine, to a great extent does not even employ their native chilies, and that people there do not have a fondness for spicy food. You have to go to the northeastern state of Bahia to even encounter pimenta (pepper).

The cobblestone streets of The Pelorinho, Salvador de Bahia's old quarter

Bahia is a noteworthy for its capital, Salvador, the port where the Portuguese brought an estimated 7-8 million slaves from Africa (compared to about 800,000 that were brought to the U.S.). The African influence is everywhere, from the groups doing capoeira (the African martial art that closely resembles dance) on the street, to the drum troops, to the small ubiquitous stalls selling Acarajé. Of all the food I had in Brasil, this simple spicy dish was my favorite.

Acarajé is a fritter made from black-eyed peas and deep-fried to a crisp golden brown indendê (palm oil). After being split in half like a sandwich, they are stuffed with vatapá and caruru—thick, spicy pastes made with cassava, cashews and okra. Then fried shrimp, and a salad of tomatoes, onions and cilantro tops it all off. And of course, a generous dousing of hot sauce (tiny malagueta peppers soaking in oil and vinegar). On the streets of Salvador on down to Rio, you will find Afro-Brasilian women clad in a throwback attire of white cotton “puff” gowns and headscarves serving what has become the country’s favorite street food. It is interesting to note that virtually the same dish is still popular in Nigeria and Ghana, two countries from where slaves were brought. It just goes to show how much history and culture is connected to food.

The Himalayan Yak


In case you didn’t know, the Himalayan Yak is a large, bovine creature with long, shaggy hair that resembles a cross between a bull and a buffalo. It also lends its name to a great Tibetan/Nepali/Indian restaurant that I just ate at in Jackson Heights, Queens. And, in case you’re wondering, yes, this is the only restaurant in NYC that serves yak among its other delicious and exotic offerings.

I’ve had Tibetan food before, of course, but have always played it pretty safe sticking to the Momo (steamed dumplings stuffed with meat or vegetables), noodles or other dishes that seem to have had their origins in China. The Yak, however, boasts a prodigious menu that will especially have any adventurous eater salivating in their soup. Ever heard of Bhutan, a dish made with goat intestine, liver, heart and stomach stir-fried with butter, green chilies, onions, tomatoes and Nepali herbs? How about Cheley, or Tibetan style sautéed beef tongue? I certainly hadn’t, and my interest was piqued. In fact, there were so many must-try dishes on the menu that I am already counting the days until my next visit there.

As I was waiting outside for a friend, I happened to run into one of the chef’s, who also gave me his personal recommendations. This is what we ended up having:


Sadeko Bandel is sliced, roasted wild boar served with lemon sauce dressing and black pepper. With it’s thick band of fat, it resembled pork belly and did not taste much different from pork—excellent.


Dhoepa Kkhatsa is beef stomach (tripe) sautéed with garlic ginger and spices. The sauce was killer—tangy with a bite. Tripe, of course, is kind of an acquired taste because of its somewhat slimy, rubbery consistency, and gamey flavor. The best tripe I’ve had was in France, where it had been stewed so long that it practically melted in your mouth. This dish required some serious chewing, but it was good!


Shapta is marinated Yak sautéed with garlic, ginger, onion, and bell pepper. Had I not know it was Yak, I would have said buffalo or beef for sure. But this, too, was great.


Sha Bakleb are pan-fried Tibetan bread patties filled with minced beef and served with dangtsel (salad). These disk shaped dumplings are the closest thing I had to familiar Tibetan food such as Momo. When you cut them you get a burst of juice. Mmmmm!

Tasty food; fast, friendly service; and the very relaxed, dimly lit ambience of the place made me feel right at home (though it wasn’t ideal for the visuals). Believe I’ll be back for more.

If you’re looking for something different, I suggest you seek out the Himalayan Yak.

The Himalayan Yak
72-20 Roosevelt Aveune
Jackson Heights, NY 11372
718-779-1191
www.himalayanyakrestaurant.com

Thanks to Dawa for the recommendation!

a street market in Saigon

Anyone who knows me knows I love to eat and I love to explore new lands. Food and travel go hand in hand, and for this reason I have coined the term “gastronaut,” to describe myself and my penchant for trying anything edible at least once. I have sampled fried cockroaches in Thailand, pig parts in Brasil, brain curry in Sri Lanka, and durian fruit in Cambodia. I’m not as extreme as Andrew Zimmern from the Bizarre Foods show–no raw worms or live creepy crawlies for me–but I’m open and adventurous. Because you just never know if you’re going to like somehthing or not, right? So my motto is “Go ahead. Try it!”

The Colonel in Saigon

With this is mind, I am sharing a video of my first and only time eating snake in Vietnam. I went to Vietnam In July 2007 to visit a Vietnamese American friend, who had moved back there, and I must say it was an eye-opening adventure in many ways. First of all, to see a country that was practically destroyed by the Americans during the war (which they incidentally call, “The American War”) doing well some 30 years later was a glorious sight. I didn’t know what to expect, to be quite honest, but Vietnam did not appear anything like the impoverished communist state I thought it would be. Sure there is poverty, but they also had everything from Kentucky Fried Chicken to Godiva Chocolates. We even indulged in the most decadent brunch at the Sofitel Hotel in Saigon, which I’m sure would rival Vegas’s Bellagio buffet. But the best food is found all around you on the street and it’s available practically 24 hours a day. Now I know why Bourdain loves Nam so much.

Yes, those are edible grubs--high in protein!

My friend Dinh took us to some of his favorite spots, like the place where they cook the rice in a clay pot and it caramelizes on the bottom, so the waiters must actually toss the pot back and forth before breaking it open to serve the delicious rice inside. Then when I heard about the snake restaurant, I had to go. Having eaten alligator before, I expected snake to have that same flavor–halfway between chicken and fish. But really, snake is snake. Or should I say cobra is cobra. The meat is delightful, but there is a special trick you have to do with your teeth–a sort of simultaneous scraping and sucking–to free it from the many tiny bones. We had snake in a salad, a soup and a dish with rice. We also had to observe the local pre-eating rituals as you will see in the video.

Yum! Yum! Summer rolls!

Let me conclude by saying that Vietnamese food is some of the best food in the world. I knew very little about it before visiting Vietnam, but now I’m a fiend for this cuisine. It’s so fresh, flavorful, and healthy, and the Vietnamese are some of the most resourceful people on the planet. During the war, when food was scarce, people had to eat anything. Even though snake is considered an expensive meal (at $30 for 3 people), the rats, bats, mice, turtles, frogs and insects that the Vietnamese eat to this day are probably a remnant of that era. Who knows? Food might be scarce for you one day. Are you prepared to eat anything? Are you prepared to eat a snake? I did. And it was good!

One thing I love about curry is its endless variations. From Japanese kare to Jamaican curry goat, seemingly every hot weather locale has its own take on this traditionally Indian spice preparation.

One of my favorites is Thai red chicken curry. I remember it best at a little roadside stand overlooking the harbor of Ko Phang nam. I had some time as well as a gnawing appetite to kill before the boat arrived, and instead of heading for the row of nicer tourist restaurants, I saw that all the Thais ate at this ramshackle stand. As I approached all I saw were several pots of curry on a table. The first one I peered into had chunks of white meat chicken and golf-ball sized Thai eggplants swimming in a reddish coconut gravy. ‘That looks good,’ I said, and the lady ladled some over a plate of steaming jasmine rice. I haven’t had a better red curry in any Thai restaurant in America.

Now I am able to recreate that amazing authentic flavor at home—or at least come pretty close–using a recipe from Corinne Trang’s Essentials of Asian Cuisine. This simple one-pot meal with vegetables goes great with rice.

As with all Asian cooking, the recipe is fairly simple, but preparation is essential.

Thai eggplants, lemon grass, beans, Thai basil

Ingredients

1 Tbsp. coconut oil or vegetable oil

1 1/2 to 2 Tbsp. Thai red or green curry paste

2 Tsp. Thai or Indonesian shrimp paste

2 lemongrass stalks – root ends trimmed, outer leaves and tough green tops removed, and 6-inch long inner bulbs sliced paper thin crosswise

1 cup unsweetened coconut milk

1 cup basic chicken stock

1 Tbsp Thai fish sauce

2 pounds chicken thighs , legs or wings

2 medium waxy potatoes or yams

6 yard-long beans – trimmed and cut into 2-inch pieces

12 Thai egg plants

20 Thai basil leaves

[ Note: I used a store bought curry paste, and I suspect that’s why the batch I made came out slightly salty]

Method

1.)   Heat the oil in a heavy bottomed pot over medium high heat. Add the Thai curry and shrimp pastes and the lemongrass and stir until lightly toasted (about 3 minutes).

2.)   Reduce the heat to medium low, add the coconut milk, chicken stock, fish sauce, chicken, potatoes, beans, and eggplants, and simmer for 30 minutes. Add the Thai basil and cook for an additional 10 minutes.

(serves 4 to 6 people)

This particular red curry has a sweetness from the coconut milk, saltiness from the fish sauce and shrimp paste, heat from the chili and that savory quality that the Japanese refer to as umami. Lemongrass permeates the dish while just that hint of kefir lime leaves (used in the curry paste) gives it that signature Thai flavor. The eggplants, beans, potatoes and rich coconut gravy make it a hearty meal.

For dessert why not have some fresh fruit? In Thailand, pineapple is pretty popular.

Even though I’ve tested the recipes in my cookbook hundreds of times, sometimes it’s necessary to refer back to the text–especially for those dishes that I don’t make that often. I’m usually the type who eschews measurements and cooks more by “feel,” but in these instances it’s good to cook by the book. And it’s always gratifying when the dish comes out as expected (or even better) because I know that if I get good results so will you.

Though Fish Ambul Thiyal is one of my favorite dishes, I don’t make it that often because I have an Aunty who makes it infinitely better than mine. I think all that has changed after today, however.

I felt a hankering for some Fish Ambul Thiyal, and I had some frozen tuna from Trader Joe’s thawing, so I decided to give it a go. One special ingredient that you will need is goraka, which might only be found at a Sri Lankan store. A fitting substitute would be tamarind.

dried goraka (gamboge) fruit

Ingredients:

1 lb. (450 g) fish — preferably tuna

5 cloves garlic

2-inch piece ginger

1/2 tsp. black pepper powder

1 tsp. fenugreek

5 pieces goraka (or 2 Tbsp. tamarind)

2 tsp. salt

2 Tbsp. oil

1 onion, finely chopped

1 clove

1 cardamom

1-inch stick cinnamon

1 sprig curry leaves

1/2 cup (125 ml) water

spices for roasting:

2 tsp. cayenne pepper

1/2 tsp. cumin powder

1/2 tsp. fennel powder

1 tsp. coriander powder

1.) First wash the fish and cut it into 1-inch cubes

2.) Roast the 4 last ingredients in a pan until dark in color (be careful not to burn)

3.) Place the garlic, ginger, roasted spices, black pepper, fenugreek, goraka and salt into a food processor or blender and grind into a thick paste. Add a little water if necessary and coat the fish in this mixture. (Note: If you are using real tamarind fruit, soak the pods in 1/4 cup warm water. Strain and discard seeds and fiber and add to mixture. If you are using tamarind paste, use ony about a teaspoon since it is so concentrated).

4.) Heat oil in pan. Saute onions, clove, cardamom, cinnanmon, and curry leaves until onion is translucent.

5.) Place fish in the pan with water and remaining ingredients and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer until all water has evaporated (about 20 minutes).

(Note: This is considered a ‘dry’ curry containing little or no gravy)

Today's lunch: Fish Ambul Thiyal, Chicken curry, red rice, dhal, mallung (greens), pol sambol, ala thel dala (curried potatoes), mango chutney, mixed pickle

After showing this video to Edwin, my old building superintendent in Brooklyn, I had to post it again. Edwin claimed that he used to be a radio announcer for Yankee games back in the day so I asked him if he’d be interested in doing the voice-over. Having never been to Sri Lanka, I think he did a great job. What do you think?

Adobong Na Manok

Nothing beats a hot meal on a frigid night—especially if you made it yourself (and in under an hour). Since I recently picked up a claypot or sandpot from my local Asian store for only $6.95, and I’ve been dying to try it out, I decided that tonight was the night.

the sandpot -- pick one up!

Armed with my cookbook of the week—a glorious tome called Essentials of Asian Cuisine by Corinne Trang—I thumbed through it for the appropriate recipe, and my finger landed on a sexy photo of Adobong Na Manok. While Mexicans eat a stew of meat cooked in wine called Adobo, Adobong, a dish made with vinegar, could be considered the national dish of the Philippines, meaning there are as many varieties of it as there are varieties of curry. Adobong also refers to the technique of cooking with vinegar, which can most likely be traced back to the Spanish, who first colonized these Pacific Islands (just as the Goan dish, Vindaloo, is associated with the Portuguese).

the flavor unit: ginger, garlic, scallions, green chillies

It looked simple enough to make as well as tasty, and the only ingredient I didn’t have in the house was the Chinese Rice Vinegar, which I picked up on my way home.  Prep consisted of chopping up some ginger and scallions and smashing the cloves of garlic. I also had to add my own twist with a handful of green chilies, to turn up the dial on the heat. Then after a quick sauté, I threw everything in the pot, covered it up and came back an hour later for a very simple but delicious meal rounded out with some brown rice and some sautéed kale greens. The chicken was incredibly moist and tender and completely infused with the flavors of the other ingredients in the pot. There was also some caramelization that occurred on the bottom of the pot concentrating these flavors even more. And they say it’s supposed to be even better the next day!

Ingredients:

1 Tbsp vegetable oil

1 large head of garlic, cloves

2 oz. fresh ginger, thinly sliced lengthwise

1 1/2 – 2 lbs. chicken parts (preferable thighs and legs)

1/2 cup coconut vinegar or Chinese Rice Vinegar

1/4 cup Chinese light soy sauce

5 scallions, trimmed and chopped

1 Tbsp black peppercorns

2 fresh Bay leaves

5 green chilies (optional)

Method:

1)    Heat the oil in a large clay or heavy-bottomed pot over medium-high heat.

2)    Stir fry the garlic and ginger until fragrant and golden (about 5 min.)

3)    Add the chicken, vinegar, soy sauce, scallions, peppercorns, bay leaves, and 1/4 cup water; reduce heat to medium-low and simmer until chicken is fork tender and the juices have reduced by half (about an hour).

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