Week 69. Mozambique. Piri Piri Prawns.

I think I’ve been poisoned.

I think I might have ingested oestrogen – and loads of it. It’s Sunday afternoon and I’m sat at my PC with the lighting down low, soft music on and I’m drinking a Hot Chocolate. I didn’t fancy watching the Rugby, and when I opened the fridge and saw a can of lager I just thought of the unnecessary calories. I’m even thinking of having a bath…oh and yesterday I had a Decaffeinated Pumpkin Skinny Latte. I shit you not.

I think it’s my hair and I think oestrogen increases as you grow it. I have had a shaven head for 15 years (as I hated my hair – not as I’m a thug) but after seeing a photo of me recently which looked like I had a never ending face, I decided to break that face up with some hair. Ever since I started to grow it I have felt different. It’s a subtle difference, but I’d always been conscious of people looking at me and judging me for having a shaved bonce. People would avoid sitting next to me on trains if they could and would rarely ask me directions in the street….unless to a football match. Now I’m everyone’s friend. I’m the guy people start conversations with in shops (quite annoying) and I’m smiled at by fellow parents – rather than the looks I used to get which I always read as “poor little boy, your Daddy is going to go to prison soon”. The slightly funnier reactions to my new hair came at work as none of my workmates were aware I could actually grow hair and presumed I was bald. Suddenly I had hair and people thought I had had a transplant, yet no one mentioned anything to me for ages.

Back to the oestrogen point; I think that I might be displaying female traits as I have been told/ ordered to chill out a bit and I’m playing the part well. I had been in back agony on my commute to work and then all day at work and after seeing a couple of people about it I was told I needed to relax more and get exercising. I have taken to reading novels on the way to work instead of pouring over newspapers which talk of how the world is dreadful (I can do that at lunchtime) and I’ve stopped commuting in my suits – which I now leave at the office. In the evenings I have stopped watching crap on TV and reading with music on. It is incredible how different I feel. My mind used to be full of thoughts and stresses and strains and these then poured down my neck and into my back, knotting it up. Relaxation has meant my thoughts are clear and my glass half full attitude is back. I cannot recommend more that if you are ever stressed, you get it addressed quickly. I wasted 5 months of my life thinking I was fine, but in reality I was sleeping poorly and in physical pain. I could have got it sorted quicker. So – I’m relaxed, have a clear mind and hold all the behavioural traits of a 33 year old, strong woman.

Mozambique is a country in the South East of Africa and is a gained independence from Portugal as recently as 1975. Portuguese influences remain and do so in the cuisine. You likely have heard of Piri Piri sauce as Nandos market it as their own. In reality, Piri Piri is the African Birds Eye Chilli which is grown in Malawi, South Africa, Ghana, Nigeria, Zambia, Zimbabwe, the forests of South Sudan…and Mozambique! It originated from Portugal and took a hold so well in Africa as it grows well in hot climates. Piri Piri dishes are therefore African with Portuguese origins, just like Mozambique.

Piri Piri is hot. It’s blended chilli and used alone can be uncomfortably hot. In this dish I diluted it with Tomato Juice and Coconut Milk. If you like spice and prawns this dish is absolutely for you. If you don’t I’d leave it!

Recipe (serves two):

Piri Piri Sauce (Blitz it):

• 8 Chillies
• 2 Garlic Cloves
• Juice of a Lemon
• 1 Cup Olive Oil

Take 500g Uncooked Prawns. I used Tiger Prawns. Cover them in 50% of the Piri Piri Sauce, half a can of coconut milk and 2 cups of tomato juice. Marinade for as long as you have available. I had 6 hours.

When ready to cook, gently cook 1 cup of rice in 2 cups of water and 1 cup of coconut milk. It will absorb both, giving the rice a slight coconut flavour.

Barbecue the prawns for 3 minutes on each side until cooked.

Serve together with the remaining Piri Piri sauce drizzled on top with coriander and chopped peanuts to garnish.

Week 68. New Zealand. Pavlova.

Two years ago I was sat in my Father in Law’s lounge in Gore, New Zealand. We were sat with a beer, looking out over his land, discussing my blog and what I would do when I drew his country. In the sky there were hawks and wild deer were prancing in the distance. But that was then and this is now. A year ago almost to the day he passed on and left us all forever proud to have known him. He was a massive man in stature, strength and aura and the thought that he isn’t be here to read my post on New Zealand is devastating. In his memory I’m doing the dish he made me promise I would do that night, over that beer.

That night we debated dishes for hours. We thought about whether it should be the famous NZ lamb, but he thought that, whilst delicious, it wasn’t really the national dish, but more so something they produce a lot of well.  We talked about Blue Cod “fush and chups” and how they were so popular in the South Island. We thought about whether we should include Bluff Oysters somehow. He had battered some in beer for me the first time I had been over to NZ and they were delicious, but I couldn’t really make a meal of them. He told me that really I should do a Hāngi (a traditional Maori dish), but eventually we both agreed that me digging up our paved garden in London to dig a pit to bury the meat in wasn’t practical. In the end he made the decision as he stood up to get us another beer. I remember every word. He said “You are going to write about a Pavlova, the real Kiwi dessert Joe, but you need to get Des to make it. She is a Kiwi and she will do it right”. And with that the decision was made.

So, this week for the first and only time, I didn’t make the dish, my wife did.

What is the biggest competitive clash between Australia and New Zealand? Is it the Bledisloe Cup Rugby Union? Is it a Cricket Test? Is it even a netball rumble between the two greats? No. It’s who owns the origin of a dessert made out of eggs, sugar and fruit. Both countries lay claim to this soft, squidgy dish. It’s wonderfully competitive and brilliantly camp, but New Zealand have won. Here are the claims:

New Zealand state that Anna Pavlova, a Russian Ballerina, had visited Wellington and tasted the dish made by a Kiwi chef and fell in love with it, telling all and sundry. It was therefore named after her.

Australia state that an Australian lady Emily Flutter made the dish up in a book called “Home Cookery for New Zealand”. To me that claim seems loose, in that if the dish is for New Zealand – perhaps it already existed in NZ

Either way, it’s a delicious meringue dish covered in cream or crème fraiche and topped with KIWI fruit and strawberries….or whatever you like.

There is another first for this dish in my journey. I can’t tell you how it was made. I am not allowed to know. My wife is holding onto a family secret which dates back about 40 years (about the same age as NZ) and I’m not to know. You are going to have to look up a recipe.

In many ways I wanted to celebrate the country I love second only to mine in this post, but instead I want you to find out why I love it so much for yourself. Go and visit the vibe of Auckland, or the lakes of Wanaka and Queenstown. Drive for a day in the South Island and feel like you are crossing a scene from each of the continents in one day. Relax in Russell in the North Island and feel like you are on a 1950’s holiday or just drive through the countryside and think how you can absolutely understand why Lord of The Rings was filmed there. It’s amazing.

I love the country like it is my own, and whilst it isn’t I hope that I have been adopted a little.

Post in Memory of Ross Andrew. Dad, Father in Law, Grandad Ross. We wave to you in the moon every night.

Week 67. Equatorial Guinea. Hot Chicken Paella.

Blogging is so glamorous. It’s currently 6:30am and I’m sitting in the dark. I’ve had 5 hours sleep and my throat burns as for those 5 hours I must have snored. I’ve just had to whisper-shout at my three year old for making a tower out of a load of bottles and then knocking them over (sounded like a bomb). I’ve also left my glasses upstairs but don’t want to get them as I’ll likely wake my wife and three month old up and as a result I’m getting a little bit more of a headache each line I write.  Glam.

In recent weeks I have…..hold on.

FFS. I just had to pause writing this as my son just demanded that the cereal bowl I had dumped on his little table be taken off and then only put back when I had put down a place mat. This has to be a joke. He is bloody three…what’s he going to be like when he is 6? Demanding I put sparkling water next to his bed and ensuring his room always smells of lavender? Jesus.

Three year olds. Wow. Intelligent enough to con you, stupid enough to get lost in supermarkets. We are currently in the question stage. Supposedly at the age of three a child asks 200 questions a day. I think our one asking about 15,000. “Why Joe?” he asks non stop. He has decided it’s funny to use my real name not Daddy. I hate it, so he uses it more. What he doesn’t know is that every time he uses it I eat one of his sweets from the cupboard. In your face little boy.

Anyway – back to my blog. I’ve had a cup of tea now and whilst my throat is still screwed, I do feel semi alive.

This blog has been going for two years now. I’m 67 dishes in, but there are some  powerhouses of world cuisine I haven’t reached yet. I’ve not cooked China or Japan or Italy or Spain. I’ve not had to choose what to cook from the vast USA, nor have I had to decide what to cook from my wife’s home country of New Zealand or my home country (England). There is a lot more to do but for now its a case of doing the legwork and there are 47 countries in Africa which need cooking at some point.

This week it was Equatorial Guinea which is a tiny country on the West of Africa and unsurprisingly on the Equator! What you probably didn’t know about it, is that it is the richest per capita in the whole of Africa (although extremely unbalanced in its distribution). With many Spanish influences I decided that their version of Paella was the dish for me. My loose knowledge of Paella is that whilst these days it’s known as a seafood dish, it was originally made with rabbit and was a Spanish peasant dish. In Equatorial Guinea the recipes I found were also not seafood but used Chicken or Guinea Fowl. I chose chicken.

The main difference I could tell between the dish I cooked and its Spanish cousin is that my Paella had chilli in it and more beans – the rest was largely the same. It’s delicious and easy to make.

Ingredients (for 4).

• 2 cups Paella rice
• 1 Large Onion
• 3 cloves garlic
• 4 chopped tomatoes (skin off)
• Pinch Saffron
• Pinch Oregano
• Fresh Chilli (you choose how much)
• Chicken Stock (2-3 pints)
• White Wine – 1 Cup
• 4 Chicken Breasts

 

Chop the onion and garlic and fry gently in some oil.

After they begin to brown add the herbs and a large pinch of salt and stir for 30 seconds before adding the tomato and chilli.

Let that all sweat for a few minutes before adding the rice and stirring it all in.

Let this all simmer gently for a couple of minutes. The rice will quickly absorb the juice in the pan so then add the chicken stock.

This should then all simmer for 20-30 minutes. It is done when there is no liquid left and the rice is plump. Whilst the rice simmers grill or BBQ the chicken breasts.

 

Week 66. South Korea. Bulgogi.

**One of the tastiest dishes I have ever cooked. Definite top 5**

The Olympics do my head in. I love sport too much. We, in London, proudly state that we are holding 43 simultaneous World Championships. Well that’s fantastic, but they are all on at the bloody same time. How do I get to see them all?!

Every morning I wake up stressed. What do I watch, how do I make sure I see all the right action live? I hate the idea of a presenter telling me that something just happened in an arena I’m not watching. Damn you. I want to see it all and it’s impossible. I think we should have an Olympic Year. Sod simultaneity, lets have one after the other. Each night I can then plug into the sport of the moment, understand it, enjoy it and chill out.

I’ve taken a week off work. I thought it will help with my sport induced stress, and it has so far. London has been looking pretty incredible and I’m proud to live here. I heard an interview on the radio today with some international journalists who thought that we were doing well but not quite matching Sydney or Beijing. I’m quite happy with that. Sydney followed the disaster of Atlanta and Beijing was state funded (but stunning). I went to both Sydney and Athens and loved them both. I think that London is slightly hamstrung by the sheer size of the capital and trying to keep atmosphere across the whole of London is difficult but we are doing a bloody good job of it.

Having a bit of time off meant I could get back on the Blog and this week I drew South Korea. I actually remember Seoul as my first Olympics so it was pretty apt.

In a country notorious for eating dog, I wanted to show how excellent the cuisine and tastes really are from this part of Asia. This meal is utterly delicious. It’s a form of lettuce burrito with the most tender and flavorsome beef interior. It’s so easy to make but would cost you a few quid the first time you make it as you need to get hold of some key ingredients, but I can assure you it is worth it and you will use them again and again.

The key is to make a distinctly Korean marinade for thinly sliced beef. Rice wine, soy, garlic and loads of sugar tenderize the meat and the flavour is so sweet and hot. The lettuce wrap makes it taste fresh, the rice fills you up and the meat is so powerful, light and spicy. It’s amazing.

Here is where I found the recipe. http://www.food.com/recipe/korean-beef-150789

I made the beef then wrapped it in lettuce with sticky rice and HOT pepper sauce and a dash more Soy.

Right, go away – I’m off to watch some Beach Volleyball….or maybe the boxing….or the indoor volleyball….Aaaaahhhhh!!!

Week 65. Botswana. Chicken In A Hole.

When I grow up I want to be a pickpocket/ urban thief. When people are on trains with their young families I want to sneak up to them and steal their most important things. I don’t care about the fact that it will leave them moneyless and with no phone to call people to help. I don’t care that they look like nice people and that their children are with them and dependent on them. I just love stealing. When I do steal I love the fact that I get about a twentieth of what the goods are worth and that I will accept that money readily as I have a drug habit I need to keep fuelled. I love the idea that the people I steal from will be about to go for Tapas in Barcelona, excited about it being their last night away and I revel in the thought that I am about to ruin their night and tarnish their whole trip which was before I came along incredible. I love what a great bloke I am.

So – last weekend we got done.

We were having such a great time and then it all got ripped away from us. Our last day which we planned to spend shopping and on the beach was filled with Police station visits. It was crappy and it was something which hundreds of people experience every day in Barcelona. I love the city but they need to address this problem. We were prepared and guarded the bag and the phones and money was in a zipped pocket, but they were better. I think they leant a bag against us and they had their hands through a hole in the bottom of the bag and into our bag. I think they used a cute baby in a pram as a ploy and I hate them for putting a bad spin on a great break. Fortunately, being the glass-half-full people we are in a crisis (most of the time) we managed to have a great night after, and drunk more Sangria than we would have and put more Tapas away than I thought we would. We laughed it off until we got back and I wrote a list of what we needed to do to sort things out. It’s a pain, but we didn’t get hurt and on that basis we need to get over ourselves a bit and move on.

We got back to the UK early this week and the weather came back with us. It’s been amazing and as a result the BBQ has been used – albeit after an experience I had yesterday. Listen carefully, as this might happen to you someday and this information will be useful. When I turned on the BBQ yesterday I could hear the gas (we are posh) coming out and the ignition was clearly lighting, but they wouldn’t combine. I couldn’t understand why. Eventually I decided to dissect the underneath and take out the gas pipes. As I did I was sprayed with fat and oil (cold). The pipes which take the gas from the canister to the grill were full of fat from previous barbeques and therefore the gas couldn’t travel up to the top. It was rank, it ruined a shirt and a pair of shorts I was wearing but I fixed it like a mechanic and I was proud and I deserved the nod of the head my wife gave me when I returned in, covered in oil, to say the BBQ was back working!

Botswana was chosen this week and they have a dish called Chicken In A Hole. It is supposed to be placed into a pit dug in the sand and placed on burning coals, and would be used in a community which had no cooking machinery….but I had nowhere to dig a hole so I used the newly mended barbeque as an oven.

 

The premise is a whole chicken, filled with onion and garlic (also shoved under the skin) and the covered in spices and wrapped in cabbage and then foil before baking. I read different opinions as to what the spice mix should be, but settled on it being largely paprika and coriander based  with Cumin.

I can only assume the cabbage is used to moisten the chicken throughout the baking as it softens and seeps liquid into the chicken. The result was utterly delicious. The chicken tasted poached and was moist all the way through, It was so simple and should I live in a desert or not have an oven I would make it all the time. We had it with salad as it’s hot outside, but it would be equally as nice with cous cous or rice.

Make it, and vary the flavour with things you love. It’s fun and delicious.

Right – I’m off to phone my phone carrier and ask why I still don’t have one back!

Week 64. Laos. Kalee Ped

For anyone who reads this occasionally or even regularly, you might have noticed I haven’t posted for 8 or so weeks. Life has prevented me  – but for lovely reasons. I am now a father of not just a crazy 3 year old boy, but now a little squirmy girl (Olive). She was born on the 8^th of May and for the past few weeks rather than chilling out in the kitchen we have been concentrating on making her grow.

Everyone we spoke to who have two or more children explained in detail how it would be intense – and they were right. I could fit both of my children in a very small box, but between them they eat up all of our time. Last weekend the theory was that I could do a post, but then we had FOUR children’s parties to go to. Between breakfast on Saturday and breakfast on Monday morning all I ate was food I picked off Henry’s plates at each of his parties. I felt disgusting.

Slowly, slowly, we are getting our heads around managing time and me cooking a dish from Laos is a good step forward.

This is how the Lonely Planet describes the country:

“After years of war and isolation, Southeast Asia’s most pristine environment, intact cultures and quite possibly the most chilled-out people on earth mean destination Laos is fast earning cult status among travellers. It is developing quickly but still has much of the tradition that has sadly disappeared elsewhere in the region. Village life is refreshingly simple and even in Vientiane it’s hard to believe this sort of languid riverfront life exists in a national capital. Then, of course, there is the historic royal city of Luang Prabang, where watching as hundreds of saffron-robed monks move silently among centuries-old monasteries is as romantic a scene as you’ll experience anywhere in Asia.

Read more: http://www.lonelyplanet.com/laos#ixzz200lxTGv1”

My wife travelled there on her whistle-stop dash across the world from New Zealand to meeting me and filling that box full of children. She rated it incredibly highly.

Cuisine wise it is not too dissimilar to that of Thailand and I chose to make a spicy red duck curry. Duck is an ingredient that I would often order when at a Thai restaurant, but very rarely think to use it at home. After making this dish I will do much more often.

There are two ways to make this dish. One is the complicated way where you make your own red curry paste and the other is to buy a good quality paste and then supplementing the flavour. I made my own using this  bit.ly/cQaG8H – but it’s up to you.

Ingredients:

• 2/3 Tbsp Red Curry Paste
• 350g Coconut Milk
• 500g Duck
• 2 Lemongrass Sticks
• 1 Large Bunch Coriander
• 2 Birds Eye Chillies
• 2 Cloves Garlic
• Tbsp Fish Sauce
• 1 Large Onion or 3 Shallots
• 1 Tbsp Tomato Puree

Fry the diced onion and garlic in some oil in a large pan or wok for 3 minutes. Don’t burn it.

Add in 1 lemongrass stick and both chillies.

After a few minutes add in half the coriander, the fish sauce, the red curry paste, the puree and the coconut milk.

Let it all slowly bubble away for 15 minutes and then add the duck. Poach it for 10 minutes and finally add in the coriander and the lemongrass

Serve with rice.

Week 63. East Timor. Pudim De Coco

I need to tell you a story about how I went about getting the special dish for this entry. It was utterly ridiculous. I was supposed to go out for 15 minutes to get the dish. It took 2 hours 20 minutes. I left dry and I came home soaked, tired with cuts on my legs and very sore arms.

Here is why:

• I left and it was dry
• It poured with rain and soaked me to the bone
• I arrived at “Poundland” where I was to get the dish
• It was shut. It opened an hour later. Damn it.
• Nothing else was open so I waited in the doorway for an hour. I got wetter.
• They didn’t have the dish I needed. FFS.
• I slipped in the doorway and crashed into a box of wrapping paper. It cut my leg.
• I remembered another store, one of those where 90% of the store is on the pavement
• When I got there the rain had stopped so the owner was taking everything out.
• He had the dish I needed. Happy
• It was at the back of the store.
• To get to the back of the store the whole shop needed to be put on the road.
• He told me if I want the dish I help him.
• I did. It was annoying and took ages. It hurt my arms.
• He charged me full price for the dish.
• I went home.
• All for this blog

I’m actually starting to enjoy making desserts. I didn’t like to before, as I much preferred the spicy powerful mains and I always thought delicate desserts tended to make too much mess in the kitchen. I am converted and that is because dishes like this have changed me. This dish is sweet, very sweet and I would recommend it in small portions, but it’s great. I love baked custard desserts and I love coconut this is effectively a light coconut Crème Brule done in a different way. You like Crème Brule, you will love this.

I can’t go into too much detail this week as to how the dish originates but East Timor is a former Portuguese Colony and much of the cuisine is linked back to Portugal.

I used this site to get the recipe. I know it says it is a Brazillian recipe, but Brazil is also former Portuguese etc.

http://www.food.com/recipe/best-pudim-de-coco-159015

Next time you need to buy a dish. Plan. Better than I did.