Blanchisseuse Beach Trinidad. Photo by Andy Truello.
If you’d like to dig into a melting pot, try visiting Trinidad and Tobago via stovetop travel. These Caribbean islands, right off the coast of Venezuela, are known for having absorbed a bit of Spain, Portugal, France, Dutch, China, Africa, Creole, and Indian cooking… and spat it back out in their own, lovely cooking style.
From what I can tell, the food is spicy, bold, and – like a brilliant tapestry – layered with infinite threads from the many influences… which weave an intricate flavor portrait.
Scarborough, Tobago. Photo by Reinhard Jahn, Mannheim
Curry is probably Trinidad and Tobago’s most popular food, often seasoned with an incredibly hot batch of Green Seasoning, or some variation thereof. This could be fish curry, chicken curry, long bean curry, or pretty much whatever your heart desires. The ever popular Stew Chicken is a great example of a curry-like dish made more robust with bits of ketchup and Worcestershire sauce [Recipe]. Some even add ginger and soy sauce. Hot peppers (a.k.a. Scotch Bonnet or Habenero pepper) and seasoning peppers, which are a lot like scotch bonnet peppers with less heat, are a must have.
The mixture sounds unlikely, but the flavors are complex and enjoyable.
King’s Wharf, San Fernando, Trinidad and Tobago. Photo by Kalamazadkhan.
Thanks to the Indian influence, the people of Trinidad and Tobago enjoy their curry with dumplings, roti, or rice. The rice could be plain, or it could be made with a tropical spin – with orange juice [Recipe].
As for fresh seafood, you could dig into anything from lobster to conch (which we prepared in a Red Conch Chowder back when we cooked the Bahamas), or a callaloo which often has crab in it (we made that when we cooked Dominica).
Pigeon Point jetty, Tobago, Trinidad and Tobago, West Indies, Caribbean. Photo by Kp93.
Here’s the truth. Trinidad and Tobago can have all the killer curries in the world, but she still leaves me feeling a bit sad and nostalgic. You see, I haven’t cooked a North American country in a long, long while. And… well… any guesses how many North American countries are left to cook after this one, until the end?
Sigh….
Maps and flag of Trinidad and Tobago courtesy of CIA World Factbook.
My family almost didn’t get to try the Sweet Potatoes this week. Twice I screwed up the caramel. Once, Ava was too tired to eat. When she was better rested, I was out of sweet potatoes.
It was a comedy of errors. Except I wasn’t laughing,
To blow off some steam, Ava and I decided to wash the car. We got on our bathing suits and began to scrub. Dust and bird gunk (and so much more) gradually peeled off the car.
As the car cleaned up, something curious began to happen. I began to feel better.
Cleansed, even.
Ava laughed – no squealed – as she got caught in the spray. And I found myself joining in her joyous refrain.
When we were done, we had the watermelon ‘Otai. It was just hot enough, and we were more than thirsty.
Ava wasn’t crazy about the chunks of watermelon (although I loved chewing them)… but that wasn’t the point. It never really is. The point is to try it. And to have a little fun in the process.
If she has a happy memory of sprinkling on the coconut shreds, and little else, then I will be satisfied.
Life is too short to be worried about everything going perfectly.
Take it from me: when things go wrong for much too long, consider rinsing away some of the stuff that gets in the way.
And we can start with our expectations of what should happen.
For those with a sweet tooth, this recipe is definitely a winner. I preferred it with just a little of the coconut sauce, although I’m sure many others would be happy to drown the sweet potato in it. Many recipes featuring the coconut sauce in Tonga look to be swimming in it! I’m voting for this to replace the typical candied sweet potatoes we get at Thanksgiving. It’d make a great substitute!
What I loved least about this dish:
While I really dislike candied sweet potatoes, this combination somehow seems more approachable to me. The toasty coconut caramel makes it seem earthier.. more palatable.
For just three ingredients, this ‘Otai really packs a punch. The watermelon is fresh, and gives the fruity chew, which is fun. The coconut milk lends a creaminess, while the shredded coconut is both beautiful and delicious. Keith went for seconds without me asking! Ava had lots of fun making it…
What I loved least about this drink:
While Ava loved making ‘Otai, she wasn’t a huge fan of drinking it. I think she would have liked it better if the whole thing was blended smooth. Lesson learned! With recipes like this, I usually wait a few weeks (or more) before trying again. That way she has time to forget about it.. and possibly like it better than the last time.
Sun. Sweat. Waves. If lemonade is the go-to poolside drink in the United States, ‘Otai is the go-to ocean-side drink of Tonga. Our recipe for ‘Otai takes us way out into the southwest Pacific, where the tropical days lull a person into putting away their smartphone.
Can you imagine? Oh, please, someone take my cellphone from me!!
My heart is there already.
I promise you won’t need your phone to enjoy this drink.
What you do need? A watermelon, a can of coconut milk, and some shredded coconut. If you want to get fancy, you can add things like crushed pineapple or papaya, too. A squeeze of lime juice brightens up the flavors (and looks fancy schmancy)
TIP: The watermelon and coconut milk should be very cold. Refrigerate them overnight.. or you could make the drink ahead, and refrigerate it for several hours, or overnight.
While you wait, paint your toenails watermelon pink (or is it red?). Use three coats. No biggie.
Makes about 1 1/2 quarts
Ingredients:
1/2 seedless watermelon (about 5 cups mashed)
1 13.5 oz can coconut milk
1/2 lime, juiced
shredded coconut, to taste
Method:
Let’s have fun!
Add watermelon flesh to a large bowl. Crush it, using a potato masher or by pulsing with a blender (regular or immersion)… You want to leave it with some texture and body. In Tonga, this used to be done by grating the watermelon with something like a fork.
I ended up using my immersion blender since I couldn’t get the pieces small enough (for my tastes) with the potato masher.
Don’t let those white seeds bother you. Every picture of ‘Otai I’ve seen has ’em.
When you get the texture to where you like it, stir in the coconut milk and fresh squeezed lime juice.
Pour into glasses over ice (if you’d like) and top with shredded coconut. Garnish with a wedge of lime. ‘Otai is naturally sweet, tropical, and full of body. The little bursts of watermelon are the most fun, but watch out – they might clog your straw!
Enjoy with the sparkle of a tropical Tongan day…
A yacht anchoring at South Minerva Reef, Tonga, Pacific Ocean. Photo by Gregory Walsh.
Ahhh…lovely.
(Tell it to me true, what’s the longest you go without your cellphone on you? Can you make it an hour? A day? A Weekend?)
Coconut Watermelon Refresher | 'Otai
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Sun. Sweat. Waves. If lemonade is the go-to poolside drink in the United States, ‘Otai is the go-to ocean-side drink of Tonga. Our recipe for ‘Otai takes us way out into the southwest Pacific, where the tropical days lull a person into putting away their smartphone.
Sun. Sweat. Waves. If lemonade is the go-to poolside drink in the United States, ‘Otai is the go-to ocean-side drink of Tonga. Our recipe for ‘Otai takes us way out into the southwest Pacific, where the tropical days lull a person into putting away their smartphone.
Add watermelon flesh to a large bowl. Crush it, using a potato masher or by pulsing with a blender (regular or immersion)… You want to leave it with some texture and body. In Tonga, this used to be done by grating the watermelon with something like a fork.
When you get the texture to where you like it, stir in the coconut milk and fresh squeezed lime juice. Pour into glasses over ice (if you’d like) and top with shredded coconut. Garnish with a wedge of lime.
I love necklaces. The bright stones add a splash of color and fun to my generally plain-Jane outfits. Seeing as I don’t general have time to put on makeup, necklaces are the one and only way to brighten up my look. To make it look like I tried.
Well, today, we’re getting a taste of how the islanders in Tonga dress up dinner. In short? Sweet potatoes meet coconut caramel sauce – a vivid display of orange, white, and golden brown.
Beach on Vava’u, Tonga. Photo by Jansan.
Sweet potatoes and coconut grow easily in the Pacific, making this dish ubiquitous in Tonga. In fact, from what I read, this coconut caramel sauce is on everything in Tonga, from dumplings to taro.
Instant goodness.
The caramel is just sugar and coconut milk (yay, for an accidentally vegan caramel sauce!). The coconut milk gives the caramel a depth of flavor butter can’t touch. It’s just so tropical. So dressed up.
TIP: You can substitute boiled taro, or even boiled dumplings, for the sweet potato in this recipe.
Peel and cube the sweet potatoes. Steam until tender, 10-15 minutes for 1 inch pieces.
Meanwhile, heat up the sugar in a saucepan over medium-low until it begins to turn golden brown (about 4-7 minutes). Stir frequently. Once it melts, things move fast and it can quickly go from golden to burnt (and from sweet to bitter), so watch closely.
TIP: Have the can of coconut milk open and ready to pour on. Watch out, since the liquid will splatter as it hits the hot sugar.
Pour on the coconut milk. Stir the mixture together and cook for about 15 minutes, until thick.
Pour over the sweet potatoes, garnish with coconut, and serve immediately.
So what do you think? Would you make this instead of regular candied sweet potatoes at Thanksgiving? Why or why not?
P.S. Save any extra caramel sauce for ice cream. You’ll be glad you did!
Sweet Potatoes in Coconut Caramel Sauce
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Sweet potatoes and coconut grow easily in the Pacific, making this dish ubiquitous in Tonga. In fact, from what I read, this coconut caramel sauce is on everything in Tonga, from dumplings to taro. The caramel is just sugar and coconut milk (yay, for an accidentally vegan caramel sauce!). The coconut milk gives the caramel a depth of flavor butter can’t touch. It’s just so tropical. So dressed up.
TIP: You can substitute boiled taro, or even boiled dumplings, for the sweet potato in this recipe.
Sweet potatoes and coconut grow easily in the Pacific, making this dish ubiquitous in Tonga. In fact, from what I read, this coconut caramel sauce is on everything in Tonga, from dumplings to taro. The caramel is just sugar and coconut milk (yay, for an accidentally vegan caramel sauce!). The coconut milk gives the caramel a depth of flavor butter can’t touch. It’s just so tropical. So dressed up.
TIP: You can substitute boiled taro, or even boiled dumplings, for the sweet potato in this recipe.
Peel and cube the sweet potatoes. Steam until tender, 10-15 minutes for 1 inch pieces.
Meanwhile, heat up the sugar in a saucepan over medium-low until it begins to turn golden brown (about 4-7 minutes). Stir frequently. Once it melts, things move fast and it can quickly go from golden to burnt (and from sweet to bitter), so watch closely.
TIP: Have the can of coconut milk open and ready to pour on. Watch out, since the liquid will splatter as it hits the hot sugar.
Pour on the coconut milk. Stir the mixture together and cook for about 15 minutes, until thick.
Pour over the sweet potatoes, garnish with coconut, and serve immediately.
Apparently the fine people of Tonga have quite the sweet tooth. Whether it’s the coconut caramel sauce (which they put on everything from boiled taro to dumplings), or the watermelon chiller, Tonga serves up sweetness in all they do.
I for one can appreciate the natural sweetness, especially in the drink.
Try the sweet potatoes as a snack or on the side of grilled meats. The drink is great any time of day, but is a perfect alternative to punch or lemonade at your next gathering. Oh, and, yay for an accidentally vegan menu. Because… why not?
All recipes and the meal review will be posted throughout the week.
Sweet Potatoes in Coconut Caramel Sauce [Recipe]
Gussy up your candied sweet potatoes like they do in Tonga -with a totally vegan coconut caramel sauce and a dusting of shredded coconut. Pretty and easy!
Coconut Watermelon Refresher | ‘Otai [Recipe]
Mashed watermelon blended with coconut milk and shredded coconut. Don’t forget the twist of lime!
P.S. As you enjoy your meal, consider sharing the Tongan greeting, which is like a kiss on the cheek, but with a big sniff. The inhale represents sharing the breath of life, a.k.a. Mana. Can you imagine yourself doing that with friends? Family? Strangers?
The Tongan Stonehenge, only made from coral. Photo by Tony Bowden.
If you’d like to make some friends, you might want to head over to the “Friendly Islands,” a.k.a. Tonga. There are 170 of these islands to choose from, all dotted through the Southwest Pacific, in Oceania. They got their nickname because they were so kind to Captain Cook when he came there to visit in 1773.
Beach on Vava’u, Tonga. Photo by Jansan.
Even with all these islands, the CIA World Factbook claims its total area is just four times that of Washington D.C.
In this scattered tropical country, vanilla, banana, coconut, and pumpkins grow with ease, despite the tough soil. The soil is best used, perhaps, for underground ovens, where entire pigs can be roasted, along with root vegetables.
Once you arrive, stay a while. You can dine on all manner of seafood, along with boiled Taro, Sweet Potatoes [Recipe] or even dumplings… Many Tongans pour on a coconut caramel sauce, to make things even richer. The one with Taro is called Faikakai Topai.
Royal Sunset Island Resort at ‘Atata Island, 30 min boat ride from Tongatapu. Photo by Haanofonua.
As with most of Oceania, Spam is a “thing” – you can find it baked in banana leaves with coconut milk (which reminds me of a more complex version of Palusami, which we tried for Samoa).
For those with a sweet tooth, consider some fresh papaya, or perhaps ‘Otai, a coconut watermelon chiller [Recipe], sometimes served with shredded pineapple or other fruit.
When you’re done? Try diving with the whales or dolphins, or even swimming inside some of the area caves.
Are your bags packed yet?
Maps and flag of Tonga, courtesy of CIA World Factbook.
The questions kept coming from Miss Emma, one of the most picky eaters to grace our Global Table. She showed us her spoon, topped with Djenkoume (a.k.a. cornmeal cakes).
This is what her big bite looked like:
Thus far. Emma has spent the majority of her childhood “losing her lunch” when faced with new textures and flavors. She couldn’t keep mash potatoes down until she was five… hers isn’t your ordinary finickiness.
We were on very tenuous ground. I wanted to keep my furniture and rugs clean 😉
It was hard for me to relate to what Emma goes through when faced with new foods. Only rarely have I been physically affected by the thought of trying something new.
There’s old Togolese proverb which reads: “It is impossible to go and look into the stomach of another.”
How true.
Even though I couldn’t put myself in Emma’s shoes, I was able to create an atmosphere of love and encouragement. And, of course, I told her what I always tell our picky guests (including Mr Picky himself):
1. If an entire country eats it, how bad can it be?
2. What’s the worst that can happen? You don’t like it? That’s pretty small in the scheme of things. All you need is a little water to wash it away.
In brief?
She considered. She hemmed. She hawed. But eventually, she took three bites.
(And the crowd went wild!!!)
(Incidentally, Ava loved Emma, and wanted to be near this “big girl” as much as possible)
Meanwhile, Owen, Emma’s brother, went all for it. No hesitation. He’s what they call a “good eater.”
At the end of the day, both children succeeded on their quests, though I don’t believe they were on quite the same path.
Case in point: Do you think it is better to be a great eater when it comes easily, or an okay eater when it comes extremely hard?
Grilled chicken legs are always nice, but they’re especially good with a hint of ginger and garlic. These Togo Chicken Legs were a huge hit among the kids and adults alike. I’ll definitely be making them again… maybe for a big barbecue sometime.
What I loved least about this dish:
Watch that your flame doesn’t get too hot, or you might char the chicken. Otherwise this recipe fairly foolproof and weeknight friendly. If find the flavors a bit subtle, try increasing the strength of the marinade by tossing in some extra garlic and ginger (but leave the oil the same, so you don’t make things too smoky).
If you have wiggly, wobbly children, perhaps the best thing to do is settle them down by making edible sandcastles from Togo. I really didn’t have high hopes for this one with the children, but they did great, even picky Emma. And I’d like to think that a big part of it was the fun, playful approach of seeing the Djenkoume as sandcastles.
What I loved least about this dish:
Nothing. I’m definitely making this again. No changes. Yum!
The sunshine? The taste of the ocean? What about security… that lovely feeling, when you know you can feed your family, without depending on someone else.
Mrs. Essowedeou, from Togo, agrees.
“I never knew how chickens could bring a smile to our faces,” she says. Mrs. Essowedeou raises chickens as part of the “Plan Togo” program. These chickens are her smile because they are her (and her family’s) ticket to security. Independence. Food. She sells the chickens and the eggs to raise money for her family.
This week, let’s smile with Togo in our hearts. And, in Kpetou’s honor, let’s do it with chicken. Because, sometimes, it’s that simple.
Chicken recipes are plentiful in Togo, but Grilled Togo Chicken is probably the simplest, most straight forward way to enjoy the meat. All you need to do is marinate your favorite cut of chicken with ginger, garlic, and onion. Use a dash of cayenne if you’re feeling spicy, and be sure to rub on a hit of red palm oil, salt, and pepper.
While you certainly can make grilled chicken without the red palm oil, this vibrant, unique oil gives the chicken its characteristic West African flavor. I found some at Whole Foods, but you can also get it at tropical markets, like Ebute Tropical Market on 68 & Lewis here, in Tulsa.
There’s only two things you need to know to make great grilled chicken legs.
1. Marinate them for a long time. Let them soak up whatever flavors you’re using overnight, if possible.
2. Cook the legs for a long time. Dark meat needs to cook longer than white meat to be tender and fall off the bone.
So, with that, let’s go to Togo!
Makes 10
Ingredients:
10 chicken legs (or any chicken pieces you like)
2 Tbsp thumb” fresh ginger, grated
8 cloves garlic, crushed
2 Tbsp red palm oil
Salt
pepper (and/or cayenne, for heat)
1 onion, cut in thick rings
Serve with Djenkoume (cornmeal cakes), sliced onions and tomatoes.
Method:
First, get in the mood with some happy Togolese dancing.
Next, mix the ginger, garlic, red palm oil, salt, and pepper(s).
Rub over chicken then toss with the onions (the easiest way is to add everything to a gallon ziplock baggie).
Let sit at least thirty minutes, but overnight is best.
Grill the chicken legs over medium heat (about 450F), until done (you could also roast them in the oven, if desired) …
For legs you’re aiming for an internal temperature of 190F. This took about 30 minutes on my grill (turning once halfway).
If you make this recipe with chicken breasts, you’re aiming for an internal temperature of 165F.
Grill the onion rings towards the end of cooking so as not to burn them.
Happy Friday! May you share many smiles today.
Peace and love to you!
Grilled Togo Chicken
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Chicken recipes are plentiful in Togo, but Grilled Togo Chicken is probably the simplest, most straight forward way to enjoy the meat. All you need to do is marinate your favorite cut of chicken with ginger, garlic, and onion. Use a dash of cayenne if you’re feeling spicy, and be sure to rub on a hit of red palm oil, salt, and pepper.
Chicken recipes are plentiful in Togo, but Grilled Togo Chicken is probably the simplest, most straight forward way to enjoy the meat. All you need to do is marinate your favorite cut of chicken with ginger, garlic, and onion. Use a dash of cayenne if you’re feeling spicy, and be sure to rub on a hit of red palm oil, salt, and pepper.
Mix the ginger, garlic, red palm oil, salt, and pepper(s). Rub over chicken then toss with the onions (the easiest way is to add everything to a gallon ziplock baggie). Let sit at least thirty minutes, but overnight is best. Grill the chicken legs over medium heat (about 450F), until done (you could also roast them in the oven, if desired)
For legs you’re aiming for an internal temperature of 190F. This took about 30 minutes on my grill (turning once halfway). If you make this recipe with chicken breasts, you’re aiming for an internal temperature of 165F. Grill the onion rings towards the end of cooking so as not to burn them.
Even grownups need to build sandcastles from time to time. The urge comes from deep within our hearts – some far away love for fantasy, perhaps formed in childhood. Today, we’re listening to our inner child; we’re making edible sandcastles… from Togo.
At least, that’s what I’m calling them.
If you want to be a serious adult, you can call them cornmeal cakes.
In Togo, corn is everything, ever. Sometimes it is served as porridge. And sometimes it’s served as Djenkoume, a.k.a. cornmeal cakes, a.k.a. edible sand castles. Djenkoume is a cornmeal, tomato, and red palm oil corn cake, rather like polenta. But there’s so much more about the dish… there’s onion, garlic, and ginger in the mix. And a mound of homemade, spiced tomato sauce.
Hello. How could that not be wonderful?
Friends, sometimes, I wonder if I’m really going to be able to find a dish I like in every country in the world. So far, I’ve had 100% success rate, and it’s not just because I’m fairly open minded. It’s also because there really is good food in every country of the world.
Djenkoume is one of the big surprises on our Global Table Adventure. It’s at once comforting and addicting. And, once you serve it? The child in all of us falls in love with making the little sand castles!
Tip: Let everyone make their own. It’ll get them excited and curious to try the dish.
So, here we go. Let’s make some Togolese sandcastles!
Ingredients:
3 cloves garlic, crushed
1 tsp freshly grated ginger
1 medium onion, minced
2 Tbsp oil, preferably red palm oil
1 15 oz can chopped tomatoes
2 Tbsp tomato paste
salt
pepper
4 cups chicken broth (or vegetable broth for vegans)
2 cups cornmeal
First step? Find a real life sandcastle to cook in. Perhaps something like this…
Local house in the Taberma Valley in Togo. The whole area is deignated a UNESCO Heritage Site. Photo by Erik Kristensen.
Next, cook the garlic, ginger, and onion in oil until softened.
Add on the tomatoes and tomato paste.
… and gently simmer the mixture until a thick sauce forms, about fifteen minutes. The tomatoes will break down and the flavors will meld. Remove 1 cup and set aside for serving.
Next, pour on the chicken stock to the remaining tomatoes and whisk in the cornmeal, being sure to add it in a smooth stream.
Cook until thickened, about ten minutes. The cornmeal will be flecked with bits of tomato and softened onion. Yum!
Spoon into oiled ramekins or bowls and press smooth.
Unmold onto each plate and serve with the reserved sauce and Grilled Togo Chicken.
NOTE: This holds up stiffer if you let the mixture cool a few minutes before attempting… you’ll notice it thickening.
Oh, and don’t forget to serve a little of the sauce on the side!
Yummy sandcastles for everyone!
Enjoy with love and light, and a childlike spirit! Always.
P.S. If you want to bring this to a potluck, try putting it in a casserole and keeping covered tightly with saran. You could serve room temperature and slice into squares. As it cools it will hold its shape better.
P.P.S. Are you in? Will you be bringing your inner child to the table?
Tomato Cornmeal Cakes | Djenkoume
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In Togo, corn is everything, ever. Sometimes it is served as porridge. And sometimes it's served as Djenkoume, a.k.a. cornmeal cakes, a.k.a. edible sand castles. Djenkoume is a cornmeal, tomato, and red palm oil corn cake, rather like polenta. But there's so much more about the dish... there's onion, garlic, and ginger in the mix. And a mound of homemade, spiced tomato sauce.
In Togo, corn is everything, ever. Sometimes it is served as porridge. And sometimes it's served as Djenkoume, a.k.a. cornmeal cakes, a.k.a. edible sand castles. Djenkoume is a cornmeal, tomato, and red palm oil corn cake, rather like polenta. But there's so much more about the dish... there's onion, garlic, and ginger in the mix. And a mound of homemade, spiced tomato sauce.
The last three people I’ve told that I’m cooking Togo have asked me what kind of food Togo is, not realizing Togo is a small west African country. So, friends, let’s learn together. Let’s put the Togolese spirit on our tables… along with a bit of their food.
We’ll get to the menu we selected in a moment. First, let’s discuss the ‘spirit’ part of the meal. This week, I sought out some inspirational words from Togo.
I had no choice. I’ve been feeling overwhelmed lately. For starters, I’ll be speaking in front of 3,000 people at the World Domination Summit in Portland, Oregon. No biggie (total biggie!!). Second, I’m about to turn in the next 1/3 of my memoir (I foresee a few all-nighters to finish the pages up). Third, my daughter is about to turn four (when on earth did that happen?). Fourth, I’m about to celebrate my fifth year of marriage (seriously, where has the time gone?). Fifth, I just spent the weekend visiting with my BFF from high school. It’s been 8 years since we saw each other last, and now I miss her. Again.
Phew.
When I scanned all the proverbs for a bit of cheer, I found one that really spoke to me.
Perhaps that is the key. Even in the midst of stress and change, we must continue to forge on. We must continue, chin held high. After all, we can still see… even when crying. Do you agree?
Let’s consider this proverb from Togo, over a bite of food.
All recipes and the meal review will be posted throughout the week.
Local house in the Taberma Valley in Togo. The whole area is deignated a UNESCO Heritage Site. Photo by Erik Kristensen.
There’s an old Togolese proverb which says “Do not roast all your corn in the winter.” The proverb sums up Togo nicely. While the words point to importance placed on resourcefulness in this small, west African country, it also points to something much more obvious. The Togolese love their corn. As with most proverbs, they draw from the popular culture from whence they originate.
Village of Lassa, Togo. Photo by Grete Howard.
This skinny strip of a country in western Africa really does love their corn, especially cornmeal. Cornmeal cakes called Djenkoume are a popular staple, as is fufu (stiff cornmeal porridge, although sometimes it is made with yam). Either might be served with chicken [like Grilled Togo Chicken], goat, or wild game.
What does a Togolese person do when they tire of cornmeal? Eat cassava. It can be savory, on the side of goat stew, or an after dinner treat, served as a soft, sweet porridge.
Harbour in Togoville, Togo. Photo by Alexandra Pugachevsky.
From the dry savannas and tropical coast, this land also loves their peanuts. In fact, groundnut stew [Recipe] (an old favorite from our Ghanaian Global Table), makes frequent appearances in Togo.
Just about any meal goes with a happy helping of fried plantains [Recipe], something we’ve run into all over Africa and South America.
Sounds great to me!
Maps and flag of Togo, courtesy of the CIA World Factbook.
P.S. Can we stop for a minute and admire that house in the first picture? How much would you love to spend a few nights there?
As I pounded the garlic and chili peppers into a paste, feeling both awkward and unskilled, I began to ask myself some questions…
Namely, how is it that something as simple as pounding food can be so hard for me, yet be so easy for another person – like… oh, say… someone from Thailand? I understand that Thai people learn how to use mortars and pestles at a young age… but … still… the question popped up.
And then things got really existential. I’m not sure if it was a full moon, or the barometric pressure, but I got much, much deeper.
As in, I began to compare myself to a mortar and pestle.
I asked: “Am I moving smoothly through my life, making smart choices, or am I a mess of starts and stops, pounding the pavement hard for a while, then resting for too long before picking up the pace again?”
You see, I’ve heard rumors wives in Thailand used to be selected on their ability to make this salad. If they pounded with a smooth, steady rhythm, they were considered organized and a good prospect.
If the rhythms of their work were jagged and fitful, the girls were likely messy, and disorganized.
I don’t know what it all means, but suffice it to say, this was the state of my mind while making papaya salad. That’s what making food from scratch does to me – it gives me time to think.
When Keith, a.k.a. Mr Picky, walked in and saw me loading on the fish sauce, he groaned “it smells like fish in here!”… but the beauty of fish sauce is that it does not taste fishy by the time you add all the other spices. It’s just… really salty. Thank goodness he loved this salad and forgot all about the fish sauce. He noticed all the elements: spicy, tart, salty, and a bit sweet. As for Miss Ava? She thought the green papaya were noodles, which was fun.
What I loved least about this dish:
Nothing. Make it spicy or make it mild, you’re in for a real treat (Ava’s version doesn’t use any chili peppers). Oh, and look for the pre-grated green papaya at your local Asian market.
Sweet glorious Thai Iced Tea – there’s nothing better to slurp between bites of really spicy food. The caramel-like sweetened condensed milk makes for a lovely, creamy background to the Ceylon tea. Mr Picky wasn’t a total fan, but Ava was all about this drink (although that could be because I wouldn’t let her have very much since it’s caffeinated).
What I loved least about this dish:
At the restaurants I found Thai Iced Tea to be too sweet, but thankfully I can moderate the sweetened condensed milk to my own tastes at home. This one is a definite win.
