Discover | Global Table Adventure

About the food of Nepal

As you fly into Nepal, the first thing you might see is Mount Everest, rising up through the clouds like the spirit of the earth stretching in greeting to the sky. Once in town you’ll find monkeys eating with the pigeons and ambling through the cobblestone streets, baby following mother. A bus, loaded up with people (even on the very roof top) might zip by on your left, British-style. Curiously, this is the only country in the world that has a zig-zag looking flag, as opposed to a rectangle. As my husband remarked, it looks like half of a Christmas tree. This means that, wherever the Nepali flag floats in the breeze you’ll find two two triangles decorated with the sun and moon. From the freezing mountain tops to the subtropical southern reaches of Nepal, an astounding assortment of temples, shrines, and plain ‘ol beauty awaits. The food reflects her status, tucked between China and India. There are all manner of curries, most commonly you’ll find dahl baht [Recipe] which I like to think of as …

Monday Meal Review: Namibia

As Ava scuttles off to the zoo with her grandmother, I stay behind to wrangle alligator for the first time. While she walks between the lanky giraffes and prowling tigers, seeking a tail-slinging alligator of her own, I coat ours with a bright layer of lemon piri piri sauce and pop it in the refrigerator for a few hours. As she watches the lions, padding their way around their enclosure, scanning the perimeter, looking for a way out – wondering where the rest of Africa is – I place a loaf of Veldt bread in the shimmering oven. Ava looks at the animals curiously but not exactly afraid. Not like she would be if she ran into them in the actual wilderness. She is an observer but not a participant in the scene. But things could be different. Last week I was confronted with a sordid, disturbing tale called The Veldt by Ray Bradbury from the 1950’s written about the veldt in southern Africa. The term veldt is a lot like the term outback – it’s the way-out-there land, …

About the food of Namibia

Not that you’d really believe you were in Germany while gazing upon the vast deserts of Namibia, but quite a few things might make you wonder – especially closer to the coast. For starters, German words are everywhere, from the names of towns, to the distinctive brats and beer on the tables. Lüderitz Port, for example. Could that be any more German? If you dig in a little deeper, however, you’ll enter the Veldt or the wide open scrubby expanses. In this space, times moves more slowly. Dust hangs in the air where lions, giraffes, and zebra roam. Here, the food is much simpler. An entire meal might be made from bushmeat, such as crocodile [Recipe using a local substitute, alligator], or prized lamb meat. Vegetables would include simple stewed greens. Seasoning might consist of nothing or it might be piri piri sauce, bright with lemon juice and spicy peppers. Food can also be amped up with a sweet and spicy chutney [Recipe]. Deeper into the heart of Namibia you may experience dense quickbread called Veldt (named …

Monday Meal Review: Myanmar

Ava runs past me as I place the last clothespin on the line. Our blue sheets undulate with the breeze. Parting them with a quick swipe of her hands, Ava runs behind them and calls out: “Mama, come on! The big bad wolf is coming. Let’s hide!” She points at Malky, our cat, who slouches on the grass, licking his leg. “Oh, is he the wolf?” I ask, chuckling despite myself. Together we hide behind the sheets and every time the breeze blows the soft cotton towards our faces we squeal and say: “Not by the hair of my chinny, chin, chin.” Malky continues his first bath of the afternoon, unconcerned. Soon the game evolves into random singing and arm waving; the rudimary performance of an almost-three-year-old. And, yet, in this glorious moment, she’s not a toddler. She’s a queen and I, a guest in her magical Kingdom. This isn’t surprising, really. Children conjure up entire worlds with nothing more than a sparkle glinting off of a ray of sunlight. But what is surprising is that Ava has second kingdom. This …

About the food of Myanmar (Burma)

Get your imagination primed; this week’s Global Table is laid between ancient statues dripping with gold, miles of muddy coastlines, and blue skies held up by lush, green tropics. We’re spending a week in Myanmar, a.k.a. Burma. Wander with me through the rhythms of daily life in this southeast Asian country, where flat, circular baskets whomp, whomp, whomp to thresh grain; pestles thump, thump, thump to grind ginger, garlic, and lemongrass to a paste; and mallets clang, clang, clang to make knives. Amid this bustling, concentrated routine, the scents and flavors of Burmese cooking shine bright. Salads are everywhere. If you’re thinking this means lettuce, think again. For the most part, these salads are flavor firecrackers layered with napa cabbage, lentils, chickpeas, fish sauce, and chilies. Variables include fermented tea leaf, pickled ginger [Recipe], and chickpea flour and more. Speaking of chickpeas, there’s a notable Indian influence in Myanmar. Not only are spicy curries, tamarind juice, and flatbreads common (nan pya), but food is typically enjoyed layered with steamed rice. Unless, that is, noodles show up. And, boy do …

Monday Meal Review: Mozambique

THE SCENE: Recently Tulsa was blown over by some pretty mighty winds. Trees scattered their branches – the old, the cracked, and the decrepit littered the neighborhood streets. The next day I walked with Ava while she rode her tricycle. Every few minutes I stooped over to the pavement, gathering small twigs and branches until my hands were full. I would use the firewood in our chimnea. While I hate to see something good go to waste, I still felt a twinge of shame when the occasional car passed us by. I was that lady. Picking up sticks for no apparent reason at all. The weird lady. Ava pedaled happily along, occasionally pointing out another stick for me. Her simple, unquestioning willingness to help me, her mother, moved me. Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought of the jaded years to come. I silently looked to the sky and said a few words of thanks for the child. Thank you for not judging me with jaded eyes. Thank you for helping me with eager hands. Thank …

About the food of Mozambique

I love a little eye candy in the morning. This week I searched Pinterest for Mozambique and found the most beautiful photos; sparkling clear waters, titanic mountain rainges, lovely ladies and adorable children. Page after page filled with the beautiful and the rugged, the charming and, yes, the unexpeted bits of the Southeast African country. Welcome to my new favorite hobby – looking up countries I know next-to-nothing about on Pinterest. In fact, the less I know about a country, the more fun it is. Have you tried this? The obsession means I now have pinboards for every continent, global themed parties, changing the world, and more. Hello, fun! Once I settled into the photos of Mozambique, I realized that, while there is an over proportion of beautiful resort scenery, there are also plenty of photos of daily life. Women carrying water on their heads, children lounging in the hot, hot shade, food at the market. And speaking of food… the food of Mozambique is as beautiful as her landscape. You might find anything from chicken [Recipe] in a coconut milk & piri …

Monday Meal Review: Morocco

As I set our Moroccan Global Table I know something is wrong. I know because I’m doing it on purpose. The table sits outside, under a tree, covered by dappled shade and a soft cotton cloth. I tuck the benches right up to the table, so Ava can eat without a giant void between her and the table. I look at the clock; Ava’s friend Isabel, her sister Emma, and her parents will be here any minute. After a moment of hesitation, I make my decision and quickly place seven dinner plates on the tablecloth. This is where I go wrong. This is what I should not be doing. To make matters worse, I continue by placing seven sets of silverware on the table and seven cups. The table is loaded to the brim. If I were living the traditional Moroccan way I would not be using all these dishes. We would tear off pieces of bread and use it to scoop up the lamb from the communal tagine, straight into our mouths. In fact, Moroccan …

About the food of Morocco

Ohh, ok. Here we are. This is Morocco week at the Global Table (and the crowd goes wild!). To be honest I was pretty nervous about this week. As far as I’m concerned, Morocco is a culinary giant. This comes from growing up in France, where delectable Moroccan dishes make regular appearances on Parisian menus. As I got to reading, however, I quickly realized that the food – although filled with intensely fragrant, glorious spices like cinnamon, cumin, saffron, and ginger – can be wonderfully straightforward in preparation. Three cheers for that! Perhaps this has to do with living in a hot, mountainous country – energy is better preserved than squandered, even in the kitchen. Case in point: the other day I watched Anthony Bourdain enjoy a whole roasted lamb in the desert during one of his early shows. This epic feast amounted to no more than a hot fire, a good piece of meat, and time enough to cook it. Sometimes that’s all we need. Simple, simple, simple. And then there’s the national dish – …

Monday Meal Review: Montenegro

I’m at the grocery store, eyeing shelf upon shelf of neatly stacked packages of noodles. There are about 25 brands – each boasting some variation of regular, whole wheat, gluten-free, or loaded-with-spinach pasta. Three feet over there’s another 5 brands sitting pretty in the chiller. These are the fresh pastas. The ones that taste like you made them yourself. The ones that cost $10 for two servings. Hello. I feel my anxiety mounting. Deep breath. It’s just pasta. It’s just pasta. How difficult can it be? But it is difficult. So. many. choices. And yet, between these 30 brands of pasta, I cannot find anything labeled buckwheat – the noodles I need for my Montenegrin Global Table. I inquire and a kind grocery clerk leads me over to the international aisle, where I find another 15 brands of pasta. Rice noodles and squiggly ramen fill most of the shelves. The clerk gestures on the bottom row, just by my ankle. There it is – three brands of buckwheat noodles. The clerk casually adds that there …

About the food of Montenegro

This week we’re eating Montenegro – where the mountains reach right up, into the clouds, like giant forks. By all appearances, they hold up the very sky herself. And then there are Montenegro’s lakes which sparkle like eternal springtime. With beauty that has even captured National Geographic’s attention for their coveted magazine cover photo, Montenegro is at once rugged and disarmingly serene. Funny that the country means “Black Mountain,” a name which sounds straight out of Lord of the Rings, because as far as I can tell, there’s nothing even a little sinister about her beauty. This eastern European country is home to an array of comforting dishes which will seem Yugoslavian (thanks to being part of Yugoslavia), as well as a little Italian, somewhat Hungarian, a tad Turkish, a bit Asian, and – of course – very, very Montenegrin. One dish that I didn’t expect to see on the list of specialties was Buckwheat pasta (a.k.a. soba noodles in Japan) tossed with feta and olive oil [Recipe]. In fact, I had never realized buckwheat noodles were …

Monday Meal Review: Mongolia

THE SCENE This week my brain is stuck on Mongolian nomads. I am obsessed. While I sip my hot, salty tea I think of their fierce loyalty in brutal winters. While I nibble the tangy carrot slaw, I imagine how hard it must be to move five times a year – so often that you cannot keep a veggie patch. So often that even a basic carrot salad would be a major treat, normally reserved for city folk. I take so much for granted. But what really hit home is how these nomads (who live so many places) are never homeless. Never alone. When something (good or bad) happens in their lives, nomads from other Gers (the portable homes they live in) show up to help. They come out of nowhere, from miles away. From over the hills. Through the vast emptiness. And they chip in to help however they can. While it can seem like each family unit is isolated in nothing but a giant expanse of blue sky and crusty grass, nothing could be farther than …