Posts | Global Table Adventure

Menu: Mongolia

Don’t look for bad things in the good that you do. { Mongolian Proverb } I know what some of you are thinking right this very moment: “Mongolia… what on earth is she going to make from Mongolia that I’d like?” I know because that’s what my very own Mr. Picky said moments before I presented this simple menu. Cooking him meat would have been too easy. He’d automatically love it. Instead, I went with a vegan carrot salad (what!) and an amazing salty green tea. I wanted to give him something to really think about. I want to make sure this Adventure stays a challenge for his picky sensibilities (although, as usual, both recipes are easy to make and don’t require super strange ingredients). What sounds good to you?* Mongolian Carrot Salad [Recipe] Thinly sliced carrots and raisins, tossed with a simple, garlicky vinaigrette. This would be fantastic on the side of any grilled meat. Mongolian Millet & Green Milk Tea (Suutei Tsai) [Recipe] Buttery toasted millet cooked in milky, salty green tea. A note …

About the food in Mongolia

After the hot, sweaty day I had yesterday, a little stove top travel to the central Asian country called Mongolia is a welcome retreat. Even though the Gobi desert sprawls through southern Mongolia, she is best known for her long, cold winters (especially in the the mountainous north and on the dry, grassy steppes, where temperatures can dip way into – 40 F). Very little grows in dry, chilly Mongolia, but that’s okay. Instead, people rely on an intensely meaty diet. And for good reason – 30% of Mongolia’s population breed livestock (the same number who live a nomadic life). With a lifestyle constantly on the go, the food has to fit in when it can. There’s no slowing down. Nomads move about 5 times a year, generally with the changing seasons. Just about any meat is fair game – the fattier, the better. After all, a diet rich in fat helps keep the body warm in freezing temperatures. Andrew Zimmern pointed out tons of grisly, fatty meats enjoyed in all manner of brothy soups, …

Monday Meal Review: Monaco

THE SCENE We have this crazy obsession, this culture of ours, with recording our memories. You’ve seen it before: a waiter delivers a beautiful meal to the table and, instantly, four cellphones fly up to “capture the moment.” A minute later the photos are uploaded to Facebook. Suddenly, no one is paying attention to their beautiful dinner anymore – instead they’re busy checking for likes and comments on Facebook. It’s as if our experiences are somehow not valid if we don’t snap a quick picture to immortalize them. It’s as if we can no longer sit in the present and simply enjoy “being.” I’m as guilty of this as the next person. This week my good friend Chad came for a visit. We’ve been friends for the better part of a decade – from way back in my pre-Okie life. We weren’t expecting his company but, then again, no one ever expects Chad. He blows in like the wind. We had three days notice – he was just driving through from one big city to …

Menu: Monaco

On this windy Wednesday I’m visiting with a friend who I haven’t seen in seven years. We’re laughing and reliving old memories. We’re also experiencing Monaco, as I cook each of these dishes, one by one. Ava, each day bigger than the last, now helps serve the food. I’m all smiles. So what did I choose? For our week in Monaco I’ve chosen recipes fairly typical of the region – you’ll find similar in France and in Italy (such is the life when en entire country spans only 0.76 square miles). This is a combination of rustic street food and elegant fine dining. What sounds good to you?* Chickpea Crepes (Socca) [Recipe] Forget what you know about crepes. These crispy, browned pieces of golden goodness are made with naturally gluten-free chickpea flour and plenty of olive oil. We’re talking crispy, finger-lickin’ goodness straight from the French Riveria. Cognac & Herb Tapenade [Recipe] Olive oil cured olives with cognac, fresh thyme and rosemary, capers and a giant heaping of deliciousness. The black diamond of starters. Candied Cantaloupe & Cherry …

About the food of Monaco

Monaco sparkles. Built right up on the scrubby, rocky, Mediterranean coastline, she’s bustling with luxurious yachts, zipping Ferrari, and more Formula 1 fan-wear than anyone can sport in a lifetime. This is a place where you can pay $40 for a beer and $1,200 for vodka (just head over to Jimmy’s Bar, according to Stepping the World). Incredible. It’s hard to believe that all this flashiness can be built into a teeny tiny country like Monaco. She’s the second smallest country in the world, measuring in at just 0.76 square miles. In this compact bit of land, there lives almost 36,000 people. I’m no math whiz, but this seems like a lot of people such a microscopic parcel of land. I’m wondering if perhaps some of the people live out of sight – perhaps in a maze of underground hideouts for superheroes? In any case the food matches the glitzy lifestyle. It’s as if you took French food and Italian food and dusted it with diamonds or, better yet, gold. Literally. (Just look at the giant …

Monday Meal Review: Moldova

THE SCENE Two days before I cooked Moldova I was invited to Tulsa’s local United Nations annual meeting. While there I listened to very intelligent people talk about things which are generally beyond the scope of my daily duties – being a good mother, working hard, and playing harder. Let’s just say they talked about how to solve problems on a global scale. And it was amazing. Still, even as cheerleader to the world, I felt out of place. Not because I’m not interested, but simply because I feel that I don’t know enough to contribute intelligently. For the topic at hand, an almost 200 year of history had to be summarized before the discussion could even begin. There’s no way I know that much history about anything (except for my rogue obsession with Arthurian legend). But then it hit me. As I watched serious people explore serious issues in the world, I realized that my feeling of isolation in the discussion was probably not unique. I believe there are millions of people like me who are …

Menu: Moldova

Two days ago Ava, Keith and I had our fingers in the soil. We planted seedlings from a shop in Bixby called Carmichael’s. For our small garden-wall-turned-veggie-patch, we bought tomatoes, peppers, zucchini, eggplant, and summer squash. We rounded things out with basil and two types of lettuce. We all had dirt under our fingernails and smiles in our hearts. We nibbled bits of lettuce and basil straight from the ground. It was glorious. And the timing couldn’t be more perfect. The people of Moldova love to garden and much of their traditional recipes are designed around using up the fresh produce that pops up in their gardens. Some items are stuffed for healthy, quick bites of summertime goodness. Others are simmered with spices and vinegar, to be stored on dark pantry shelves during the long winter. In this way, the garden in Moldova becomes a year-round fixture, indoors and out. Perhaps these recipes will help you make the most of your garden goods this year. What sounds good to you? Veggie & Feta Stuffed Zucchini [Recipe] …

About the food in Moldova

If you’re looking for wine, Moldova is waiting for you. For the last 25 million years (give or take a few), grapes have been growing in the region, ripe for the juicing. There’s even evidence that, if you were to travel back in time about 5,ooo years ago, you could meander through vineyards sipping wine from cultivated grapes. Not out of glass, perhaps, but you’d be sippin’-happy all the same. Thankfully, you don’t have to travel back 5,000 years to enjoy a good selection of Moldovan wine. Simply amble over to “Mileştii Mici,” the world’s largest wine cellar located in central Moldova. Trust me, one bottle won’t be missed. Spread over hundreds of miles of cellars you’ll find approximately five million bottles. What would you fill 5 million bottles with? Wine is so integrated into the Moldovan culture, many people make table wine in their very own kitchens. They serve it up with an array of food that is unique with bits of Russian, Turkish, Greek, and German influence. For starters, there’s all manner of stuffed …

Monday Meal Review: Micronesia

THE SCENE Ava’s at a funny age. Literally. Everything is all giggles and “that’s so funny, mama.” It adds a breath of fresh air to my reality of taxes, tornadoes, and keeping the car clean. All equally impossible to deal with. This week Ava chuckled when she saw the silly straw in her Pineapple Papaya Coco Smoothie. And she loved the fact that there were oranges in our Micronesian Orange Coconut Cake. She laughed and laughed about that one. And, of course, I laughed watching her laugh. (Although I must admit I’m still not sure what exactly was so funny). But the point is, it didn’t matter. We were laughing. We were happy. Oh, if the world could just… stay this simple. If everyone could laugh more. Share smiles over good food. Giggle from the heart over nothing at all. Since Ava was feeling so silly, the Orange Coconut Cake gave me the perfect opportunity to teach Ava her very first joke. “Knock knock” “Who’s there?” “Orange” “Orange who?” “Orange you glad to see me?!?!” I should …

Menu: Micronesia

This week we’re enjoying a sampler-style menu based on Micronesia’s beloved citrus fruit. Each of the recipes I selected for you is bursting with fresh squeezed lime and orange juices. And, given my family’s reaction, I should warn you: they just might make you silly. Especially that crazy orange coconut cake. Speaking of crazy, have you heard the expression “cray cray”? I really amused myself reading the various definitions of this expression in the urban dictionary. I can’t quite decide if it’d be appropriate to describe either the cake or my family as cray cray. But I’m leaning towards yes on both accounts. What sounds good to you?* Ginger & Lime Marinade [Recipe] A simple mixture of fresh ginger, lime juice, garlic, and soy sauce. Use on fish or chicken destined for the grill. Be sure to finish it off with some fresh cracked pepper – which is grown in the region to top it all off. Glazed Orange Coconut Cake [Recipe] This bundt cake will be you so happy. The rich coconut milk makes the cake so …

About the food of Micronesia

Micronesia and her gaggle of islands amaze me. She is a dream – half a world away. There is not a lot of information to be found about her thousands of islands because many of them are, at best, sparsely settled. In an effort to delve deeper into the cuisine of this sprawling federation, I used one of my more recent tactics to educate myself on the cuisine: contacting a local. I love this technique. Emailing with someone halfway around the world makes me happy. While I’ve done it here and there throughout the blog, it really took off with Maldives and my successful recipe hunt for Lomi Lomi on twitter. The banter is friendly. People are excited to talk about food from their homelands and it makes me feel like I’m a part of a neighborly world. A small world. A happy world. This week my pen pal was Katrina from Kosrae – a landmass not even 10 miles wide – a tiny island within the Caroline Islands. As I read Katrina’ s suggestions on what to try, I …

Monday Meal Review: Mexico

THE SCENE: I wipe the sweat from my forehead. “Why is it 92 degrees in March?” I ask the cat. Malky draws his back up into a leisurely stretch, pads lightly onto the floor, and lets out a startlingly abrasive meow. Apparently he doesn’t care. He is ready to go outside. I crack open the door enough to smell the humidity and watch his tail flick out into the sunshine. I shake my head and get back to work. The blender cranks into high gear as I buzz together the homemade rice and almond drink, called horchata. This summertime sipper will chill all afternoon in the refrigerator, along with a bundle of fresh strawberries, cinnamon and vanilla. And the joyful purpose of this drink is fulfilled in Ava’s happy slurp. Pure delight. In the afternoon I’d wind the blender up again to blast the mole into smooth submission. In mere minutes, 24 million ingredients would become one – a symphony of flavor so complex I’d have no way of understanding it. I simply would have to listen to …