Vanilla beans might as well be jewels. The insides are full of teeny, tiny black caviar – the likes of which I can’t help but want all over my ice cream and baked goods… I even like to dab vanilla extract on my wrists when baking.

Suffice it to say, I’m a fan.

Now, imagine yourself in a country like Madagascar, where there are enough vanilla beans to pave the streets. There, thanks to such quantity, the people use vanilla bean caviar much more whimsically than I can ($8 per bean, anyone?).

Vanilla bean sorting in Sambava, Madagascar - photo by Lemurbaby. Vanilla beans on the plant. Photo by Sunil Elias.

Even just this little bit easily perfumes my entire home…

Can you imagine how intoxicating the air must smell in Madagascar, where clumps of vanilla beans hang heavy in the humid air?

So what about today’s fun recipe?

Well, we’re following the Malagasy style, and using the bean used in it’s most pure form, tossed with fresh, tropical fruit. The juices become infused with the most amazing, haunting vanilla flavor.

While I thought I was going to make a mixed fruit salad (hello, did you see that teeny, tiny pineapple? So adorable), I stopped short when I got to the Rambutan, the spikey balls that, when peeled (you don’t even need a knife – they just pop right out of their skins), reveal creamy white fruit which tastes something like sweet pears. But better.

Like pears filled with moonlight and happy dreams.

The insides practically glow:

And, when mixed with the contents of half a vanilla bean, they look super mod (they’re in their party dress!) and taste like juicy, sweet vanilla bombs. Just mind the pits.

You could also do this with lychees, which taste similar (you can find both at your local Asian market – if not fresh, then canned).

Of course, any tropical fruit will do. I think a champagne mango would be particulary nice.

So what do you think?

Will you be trying this one? If yes, with what fruit? If no, what’s stopping you?

(P.S. You can also simply splash on a bit of vanilla extract to your next fruit salad, for a delicious variation)

Thank you for following our Adventure, where I cook a meal from every country in the world, A-Z! Many smiles to you and your family. Love, Sasha

I can’t believe I’m going to do this, but here we are: I’m going to show you how to burn rice. It’s for a perfectly good cause: a cool, refreshing glass of ranovola, or burnt rice tea. This toasty-tasting drink is popular in Madagascar, where the bottom of the rice pot is reserved to flavor the local river water.

Rice crop near Ambositra, Madagascar by Bernard Gagnon. Closeup by Jean-Louis Vandevivère.

It’s super easy to do, as long as you don’t burn the rice too fast. You have to do it just right.

Ahem.

Start with a cup of cooked rice spread on the bottom of a saucepan. Heat over medium until it begins to smell toasty. Continue scraping and turning the rice… Until the whole mess rattles and clacks as you move it, like a cup of popcorn kernels. Lower the heat as you go, being sure not to send plumes of smoke throughout your house.

And here you have it: perfectly burned rice: Add on plenty of hot water and let steep until cooled. Meanwhile, go lounge in the shade of a baobab tree… if you can find any shade, that is.

Baobab tree in rice field by Zigomar. Baobabs with leaves by Frank Vassen.

…serve over ice (optional) with a smile (not optional).Ahhh, now that’s a refreshing glass of burnt! There really is no hard and fast recipe for this, but I burned 1 cup cooked rice and added about 8 cups water.  You might like your burnt flavor stronger or weaker – it’s up to you!

I hope you…

… love it!

It’s quite the experience!

P.S. She ended up drinking almost her entire glass!

Thank you for following our Adventure, where I cook a meal from every country in the world, A-Z! Many smiles to you and your family. Love, Sasha

Today I sit at the dining table, the door open and a breeze coming it. Its 70 degrees. I shut my eyes and imagine I’m sitting on a beach in Madagascar – overlooking the wide, blue ocean. The last weeks have been busy. I did four interviews in half as many days, including one with Parenting Magazine.  I spoke on KRMG all about the Chinese New Year. Today and tomorrow I will be speaking at Rosa Parks Elementary School about bringing the world together around a Global Table. On Friday I’ll be filmed by the Oklahoma Center for Community Justice for a special presentation on food culture. And somehow, in the midst of all this I have had a sick toddler who I can’t seem to make better with extra hugs and kisses.

All this and I’m hungry. Really hungry.

Madagascar Chicken (Akoho sy Sakamalao)
Chicken slowly simmered in aromatic ginger, garlic and lemon zest, surrounded with sweet peppers and onion. The secret? Beautiful coconut oil gives this chicken tropical flavor.

Burnt Rice Tea (Ranovola)
The Malagasy people prefer this to water on a hot summer’s day. Ridiculously easy and surprisingly delightful.

Vanilla Bean Fruit
Imagine if you had enough vanilla beans you could start using them for stuff besides baked goods? What about tossing the “caviar” on a bounty of tropical fruit? Just wait; you’re going to flip for this, it’s that fantastic.

* All recipes and review will be posted by Monday morning.

Sunset at Ifaty beach, Madagascar. Photo by Bernard Gagnon.

Thank you for following our Adventure, where I cook a meal from every country in the world, A-Z! Many smiles to you and your family. Love, Sasha

Happy locals in Madagascar. Photo by Woodlouse.

Watching Andrew Zimmern‘s Bizzare Foods episode on Madagascar, I was amazed by some of the shocking foods he ate. On this island nation roughly the size of Texas, you can find everything on the dinner platter from bugs to – get ready for it – circumcision ceremony remnants.

Ahem.

I’m not going to clarify that one. (Remember, I’m here to bring us together over simple foods, not shocking foods, so we won’t be going down any of those roads. I will say, however, if you get a chance and are curious, Zimmern never disappoints when it comes to the Bizarre).

A lake at Sambava, Madagascar. Photo by WRI Staff.

Even though Madagascar is about as remote as it gets – 200 miles away from Africa and populated with plants and animals that have continued to evolve on their own for thousands of years – there are some things you’ll recognize. For starters there’s rice – a staple from which nothing goes to waste. Even the scrapings off the bottom of the rice pot are burned until toasty, then mixed with water to make “Burnt Rice Tea” – a practical and efficient way to add flavor to regular water.

Rice planting on fertile, burnt hillsides. Photo by Paul Atkinson.

Madgascar is known for it’s unusual Zebu meat, however meat is very rarely eaten; chicken and fish are more common, especially fish. Meat can simply be boiled, or it can be seasoned with whatever vegetables are around, such as cassava leaves, peppers, onion, and, near the sea, coconut oil or milk. In this way, the people of Madagascar bring out flavors somewhat similar to the Polynesian peoples.

Vanilla beans grow rampant on the island, as any baker would have guessed by now, considering the world’s most beloved vanilla bean is stamped all over with “100% pure Madagascar Vanilla Bean” … these beans can be used to season anything from savory tomato sauces to fruit salads.

Speaking of fruit, you’ll find a blend of items similar both to Africa and Asia: mangoes, bananas, citrus, lychees, rambutan (the spikey haired cousin to the rambutan), beobap, and pineapples are all delicious offerings.

Maps and flag courtesy of CIA World Factbook. Photo of Antananarivo - Mahamasima Stadium and Anosy lake, Madagascar by ernard Gagnon

So those are a few tidbits about food from Madagascar… I’m looking forward to sharing the rest of the week with you.

PS. I made some goodies for you. Consider it my way of saying thank you for being so wonderful.

Thank you for following our Adventure, where I cook a meal from every country in the world, A-Z! Many smiles to you and your family. Love, Sasha

THE SCENE

It took four batches of dough.

Eight pizzas… I think.

Honestly, I can’t be sure. I lost count.

There were many casualties. First, my fingers, from impatiently grabbing hot crust. Then the tip of my tongue, from greedily tasting the pizza too soon. And, of course, my clothes, the counters, and even the cat all groaned under a thick coating of flour. Even Ava was out of sorts on our first tasting, throwing an all out temper tantrum on the floor before begrudgingly sampling half a tiny bite of pizza.

Hoping to get the recipe right, I persevered. Over and over again I made the dough, diced the pork, and popped Macedonian pizzas onto the searingly hot baking stone. Sometimes the egg didn’t cook. Sometimes the dough didn’t rise (one batch, a bit too stiff, was simply too dry to puff up). Sometimes the egg slid off the pizza completely. And one time, it seemed the oven was 100 degrees hotter than expected. I’m not entirely sure how that happened, but the result was crunchy pizza, and not in a good way.

As I struggled over two days to make the perfect Macedonian pizza, I reached my breaking point. I might have persevered more gracefully, had the weather not been against me. While the plan to make a pizza in January seemed cozy and comforting, the house quickly became outrageously hot, thanks to the 70 degree weather we were enjoying. Or, rather, everyone else in Tulsa was enjoying. Nope… having the oven on for two days straight was not ideal, but this was the bargain I made when I decided to cook the world.

And, so, I cooked on.

The more conflict I came against, the more I sweat. If you can believe it, even my heart was sweating. Every little mistake became catastrophic. Tears burned in my eyes. Bad words burned in my mouth (especially when the egg slid right off the pizza, onto the baking stone, only to fill my house with plumes of smoke).

I fought and fought to keep do it right. But the more I struggled, the worse things got.

When I thought I couldn’t take it any more, I slumped onto the couch in a heap, the warm evening sun streaming directly into my tired eyes. I shut them for a moment. I tried to calm my frustration. To find a still place. In the silence, I heard a tiny voice:

“What a doin’ mama?”

And that’s when it occured to me, like an electric shock …  make the pizzas heart-shaped. I opened my eyes slowly and gave my sweet girl a huge hug. She smiled and said:

“I can help?”

“That would be wonderful,” I said, my heart breaking in the best possible way.

And, as is so often the case, once love factored into the equation, everything changed.

THE FOOD

Macedonian Pizza [Recipe]

What I liked most about this dish:

I loved the flavor of this sauce-free, cheese-free pizza. It literally tastes like breakfast for dinner. I think it would be fabulous to add some baby arugula on top, or even some crushed oregano (which is native to the area). Ava had trouble with this at first, but really got into making it with me. In fact, the more I made it, the more fun she though it was (even though I was not-so-secretly pulling my hair out).

What I liked least about this dish:

I thought for sure this would be a favorite of Mr Picky’s… but unfortunately runny eggs are not something he likes. I tried over and over again to make one set firmly, only to realize it had to sit on the pizza the entire time to cook through. Only then would he consider it a favorite and something he’d even eat for breakfast.

Cozy Roasted Pepper & Eggplant Salad [Recipe]

What I liked most about this dish:

Everything, everything, everything. So simple, yet so fantastic. The bright lemon flavor goes wonderfully with the roasted veggies, garlic and olive oil. I’ve already made this twice by choice.  One time we added onions, just for fun. This is one of those dishes that is nice enough for a globally inspired potluck, or a picnic in the park. I like to eat it cool with extra lemon juice, or warm with less lemon juice but more olive oil.

What I liked least about this dish:

Apparently I am the only one in my family who appreciates roasted veggies. Ava begrudgingly ate hers (only because I told her healthy girls eat all their colors. Mr Picky didn’t have much to say about it except “hmm.” He did like it better warm with less lemon juice and more olive oil, upgrading his comment from “hmm” to “good.”

Rice Pudding (Sutlijash) [Recipe]

What I liked most about this dish:

This is creamy, sweet, and full of good flavor. Ava had trouble with the texture (I expected this, as I remember hating chunky puddings when I was little). Keith really liked it and enjoyed nibbling on it.

What I liked least about this dish:

The cooking time can really vary depending on the oven temperature. I thought I’d be done with this after 20 minutes of cooking, but it was closer to an hour when all was said and done. I found the dessert on the sweet side, so if you don’t have a major sweet tooth, you might knock the sugar back a bit.

Ava’s Corner

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R43oep8Gg9A

Thank you for following our Adventure, where I cook a meal from every country in the world, A-Z! Many smiles to you and your family. Love, Sasha