Beer at the Liberal Cup in Hallowell, ME.

Finished Pasta

Pasta in Process

Expanding the Theme

For anyone that may stumble upon this blog or may glance at it occasionally, you'll notice that almost every post so far has been a recipe. And I find that I don't blog very often because while I love food and cooking, just like everyone else I get into ruts or obsessions or convenience patterns that mean that I don't have any new recipes to share with you. This means that I sorely neglect my blog and that frustrates me at times. (This post is going to be like every other post, minus a recipe, in how I explain the random things that influenced the end product, just like my cooking).

I've also recently discovered Ill Doctrine, which speaks to me in ways that many things in my current life don't. I realized that I miss my academic side, the one that pays attention the the world around herself and reads nonfiction books regularly. The one that thinks critically about subjects that matter to her. I discovered this part of myself during high school listening to Rage Against the Machine. Their lyrics and political activism led me to think critically about the world around me. Throughout my college and grad career, I focused on learning more about the varied history of the United States, especially focused on the Black Freedom Movement and other similar fights for equality and recognition. As I became focused on my career (totally unrelated to any of this), I lost sight of this part of myself and Jay Smooth's witty, intelligent and insightful commentary has reminded me of it.

As I have become more of a "foodie," I've found that my background in history has influenced how I seek out new recipes and knowledge. When I have a chance to pick it up, I adore reading through Gastronomica. Whenever I find myself in a bookstore, I'm not only looking at cookbooks, but also books that deal with historical and social aspects of food. If it's a used bookstore, I'm looking for old cookbooks. As a result, I've had this idea running in my head for a while that I want to explore the world of culinary history, but in relation to the racial, social, and political history of the US. So far, this has resulted in my buying culinary history books when I run across them in stores, but the READING of those books has been lacking.

So my idea is to expand what I write about on this blog and to attempt to blog more often (ha, we'll see how that goes; I've said that before). I'm going to write about things I'm reading (both history and current events) and my thoughts and questions about them. Most likely what you'll read here won't be hard and fast opinions, but rather my reflections or initial reactions to these things. I'm open to broadening my perspective, so if you read something I've written and agree or disagree, let me know. I just ask that you be respectful of others (not just myself) when posting any comments. (I've seen far too many comments sections online become festering areas of hatred and misunderstanding due to harshly worded snap judgements).

Without further ado, here is my first foray into this expansion of my blog's theme:

I recently read this blog post about a now derelict human zoo in Paris recently. I couldn't help but wonder if modern day tourists are any better than the people who went to this exhibition around the turn of the century. People who travel, especially to "exotic" locations, tend to be of a certain socioeconomic status and this also tends to mean they are white Americans which carries its own sense of superiority or privilege that, if not carefully monitored, can lead to the former.

Working in a field that deals with a lot of people who travel, I see a wide range of behaviors. People's behaviors toward food while traveling is quite telling. There are people who will only eat at American chains when abroad, unsure of and sometimes distrusting of local cuisines. Along a similar line, there are those people who will only stay in resorts that provide a high level of familiarity and comfort. If the restaurants do offer local cuisine, it tends to be (like the rest of the resort experience) molded into something familiar to tourists' palates. There are also tourists who try to seek out the true local cuisine while traveling (I'm one of these, I love exploring new foods). However, it could be argued that restaurants are a far cry from a true expression of a cuisine. I would know; my mother cooked from scratch my entire childhood and I've never had anything at a restaurant that captures the same essence of my mother's cooking. There are also people who want a "true" experience and will seek out a way to interact with people in a more intimate manner, preferably through home stays or simply making friends and going to their homes to eat. These varied attitudes towards local cuisines could also be applied to interactions with all other aspects of the culture and the people.

I wonder if, in a tourist role, it is entirely possible to have an open and honest experiential dialog with the culture you have chosen to visit. In all roles, you are coming to the experience expecting the host culture to be a certain way, whether it be a frightening, foreign entity that you're not entirely sure you actually want to know or it be an authentic expression of what you think the culture is. In all manners, the people and the culture become something that you consume. You expect to absorb something and to take something away, but rarely is traveling thought of a dialog. This is where I start to feel like modern day tourists end up being quite similar to the people who visited Paris's human zoo in the early 1900s. I can see the people going to this exhibition of other peoples and cultures with the variety of perspectives that we currently display when traveling, but not seeing the experience as a dialog. They were there to observe, judge, and experience, but they weren't necessarily there to see these people and their cultures as anything but what they had been taught to expect.

This is not to say that I believe that going to another place and consuming another culture is entirely equivalent to moving people from their homeland into a farcical representation of it in another country. This seems more exploitative. However, I would be very interested to know the situations around these people moving into these replicas of what was deemed their cultures. Were they forced? Coerced? Willing? What happened to them once the "human zoo" was shut down? How did they view their position and their role at the park? It's easy to demonize the French empire, but it is a double edged sword in that it removes all sense of agency from the people who inhabited the park. By doing this, are we any better than their contemporaries since we are seeing them as objects without any free will or power in their situation? If anyone knows of anything written about these people, I would be interested in reading more.

White Beans with Roasted Pepper and Tomatillos

This summer has been keeping me quite busy. I've spent nights and days at my friend's camp, gone to the beach, seen a play in the park, gone out a lot, and taken my dog for countless off leash walks on the Eastern Prom. The weather has been wonderfully hot, so I've been eating a lot of fresh vegetables and hummus. This weekend was more mild, so I took the time this afternoon to make a couple things that required the oven. The recipe below is loosely based on Puerto Rican stewed beans my sister-in-law makes and includes tomatillos, that I wanted to try cooking with again. I was happy with the results.

White Beans with Roasted Pepper and Tomatillos

4 medium tomatillos, husked and washed
1 red bell pepper, washed
2 tbsp olive oil
2 shallots, peeled and chopped
1 tsp cumin seeds
1/2 tsp oregano
adobo to taste
2 cans white beans, rinsed and drained
1 1/2 cans water
1 tsp chicken bouillon
2 tomatoes, cored and chopped
1/4 c chopped cilantro

Set your oven to broil.
Put tomatillos in a cast iron pan and put under the broiler.
Place the pepper under the broiler, turning as the skin blackens.
Once tomatillos are soft and charred on the top, remove from the oven. Place the tomatillos on a plate and scrape out the very burnt juice, but not all of it. Let the tomatillos cool and then chop.
Once the pepper is blackened on all sides, remove from oven and put in a bath of cold water. Once cool, peel, remove the seeds, and then chop.
With the cast iron pan on a burner set to medium, add the olive oil.
Once the olive oil is hot, add the shallots and cook until soft and starting to brown, scraping the browned bits off the bottom of the pan.
Add the cumin seeds, oregano, and adobo and cook until fragrant.
Add beans, water, chicken bouillon, tomatoes, chopped bell pepper and chopped tomatillos.
Bring to a boil and the reduce to a simmer.
Cook, stirring frequently, for about 30 minutes or until the water boils down and becomes thick.
Remove from heat and stir in the cilantro.
Serve hot.

Salad with Thai Peanut Dressing

This recipe is credited to my mother, who upon finding herself headed to a Midwest barbecue (read: lots of unhealthy food), wanted to make a vegetable heavy dish that she could nibble on without worry. My younger brother also gets a shout out because he was the one that introduced us to Thai pizza, which is delicious. My mother took the sauce and used it as a dressing over a mix of vegetables. What is below is a rough estimate of what I put in my own version tonight. (At some point I will invest in a camera so that I can share images of these dishes with you).

Salad with Thai Peanut Dressing

3 chicken quarters
1/2 head red cabbage, sliced thin
1 tsp salt
1 yellow bell pepper, seeded and sliced into thin 2 inch strips
2 small broccoli stems, sliced into thin 2 inch strips
1 1/2 cups 1-inch pieces snow peas
2 c bean sprouts
5 carrots, julienned
4 green onions, green parts only sliced thin
1/4 c peanut butter (I used smooth, natural)
2 tbsp hoisin sauce, heaping
2 tbsp teriyaki sauce, heaping
1 tbsp maple syrup
1/2 tsp red pepper flakes
1 tbsp minced onion
1 tbsp minced ginger
1 large clove garlic, minced
4 tbsp water
chopped peanuts for garnish

Place chicken quarters in a pot and cover with water.
Put over high heat and bring to a boil.
Reduce to a low boil and let cook until cooked through.
While chicken is boiling, place red cabbage in a large bowl and sprinkle with salt.
Toss to coat and let sit while you prepare the rest of the ingredients.
Chop remaining ingredients and place in a large serving bowl.
In a small sauce pan, mix together peanut butter, hoisin sauce, teriyaki sauce, maple syrup, red pepper flakes, onion, ginger, garlic, and water.
Put dressing over medium heat and bring to a simmer.
Let dressing simmer for a few minutes, then remove from heat.
Once chicken is done, remove from heat, drain, and let cool before handling.
Place cabbage in a salad spinner and cover with water.
Stir cabbage around to remove salt, then drain and spin dry.
Add cabbage to large serving bowl.
Once chicken is cool enough to handle, remove skin and remove meat from bones.
Chop meat into small pieces and add to serving bowl.
Pour dressing over the top and toss until everything is coated.
You can serve at this point or chill it before serving.
When serving, sprinkle top with chopped peanuts.

Asparagus-Kohlrabi Fry

Here is another foray into my obsession with dill. The recipe was a combination of cravings (bacon, dill and capers) and what I had in my house (asparagus, garlic ramps, and kohlrabi). This is one of those dishes that was completely random and ended up a huge success. The combination of ingredients may not be common, but let me tell you that it goes very well together.

Asparagus-Kohlrabi Fry

1 tbsp olive oil
15 3 inch strips of thick cut, peppered bacon
1 c garlic ramps cut into 1 inch pieces
1 kohlrabi, peeled, cut into quarters lengthwise and then sliced thin
1 large bunch asparagus, trimmed and cut into 2-3 inch pieces
1 tbsp dill
2 tbsp capers
salt and pepper to taste

Spread olive oil in the bottom of a cold cast iron pan. Add the bacon and then turn the heat to medium to medium-low.
Cook until the bacon is crispy, turning frequently. Remove the bacon from the pan.
Add the garlic ramps and cook until fragrant.
Add the kohlrabi and cook, stirring occasionally, until kohlrabi is soft and starts to brown.
Add the asparagus and dill and cook until the asparagus is almost done.
Add the capers, cooked bacon, salt and pepper and cook for another minute.
Remove from heat and serve hot.