Posts | Global Table Adventure

Monday Meal Review: Estonia

THE SCENE I walked back and forth, haunting the spot where the rhubarb was supposed to be. The sign read “Rhubarb – $6.99/lb” but the bin was empty, empty, empty. Not even a week ago a mountain of lipstick red rhubarb overflowed from the bins, the first pick of the season. The clerk confirmed my fears. There was no rhubarb – not here, not in the back, not in an upcoming shipment. He explained that he had to pull the rhubarb because it was starting to turn and they couldn’t sell it any more. I was in shock, not simply because it was now gone, but also because I couldn’t believe I had expected it to be there – like mathematical certainty, like the sun would shine, or the earth rotate. Ava was getting antsy. She squirmed around in the sportscar shopping cart, and struggled to reach a package of “booboos” (blueberries). I put the package in our cart and we took off – per the clerk’s suggestion – to the frozen fruit department. I …

Estonians drink their bread

Dear readers, I’d like to introduce you to Estonian black bread. The solution to long, never ending winters. The solution to short winters. And, as I like to imagine, the solution to Miss Ava’s terrible, no good, wickedly bad days. Unfortunately, even if she wanted to eat a slice of the dark, rye-based bread, poor Miss Ava couldn’t. She is teething something terrible. She literally hurts so much that… 1. I must hold her at all times. Preferably in cradle-hold. 2. If I shift my body so much as an inch, she cries uncontrollably. It’s not so much a wail, as extended whimpering. 3. The mere thought of eating makes her cry. 4. About every fifteen minutes her sweet hand goes up to cradle her poor cheek and she looks at me with big, wet eyes. 5. Then I cry. Believe it or not, Estonians have a solution – Ava can have bread without eating bread. She can drink it. The drink is called Kali/Kvass, and is made from a mixture of black bread fermented …

Menu: Estonia

Winters in Estonia are decidedly predictable. The weather is cold and snowy, and it stays that way for a long while. Not so much here, in Tulsa, Oklahoma. This February we had 14 inches of snow followed – less than a week later – by 83F. Since Tulsa can’t seem to decide whether to cling to winter or jump forward to spring, our Estonian Global Table celebrates three desserts – one wintery, one that hearkens spring, and one somewhere in the middle. Help me. My pants no longer fit. Which dish would you try? Smoked Herring Dip [Recipe] Herring is Estonia’s national fish. Enjoy smoked herring swimming in a sea of sour cream, lemon juice, crunchy red onion, and dill. Use rye crackers for dipping. Strawberry Rhubarb Tart [Recipe] Welcome spring with the sweet-tart combination of strawberry rhubarb. A splash of cream and egg yolks make this dessert especially luscious. Gingerbread (for cookies & more) [Recipe] Our Estonian inspired gingerbread will have bite if you use good, fresh spices. The pepper and ginger really bring this traditional winter …

About the food of Estonia

After countless shots of pristine forests, glistening lakes, and hug-able medieval buildings, there he was. A nude man. In the snow. Welcome to Estonia – where the beauty of the outdoors is celebrated and, as I unexpectedly learned this morning, nude men pop up in goofy beer ads. A Le Coq is an Estonian brewery that makes everything from beer, to soda, to juices. They are the most popular drink company in Estonia, tracing back more than a century. Which, I suppose, is why I happened upon several A Le Coq ads while searching youtube for Estonian food and tourism videos. Whoops. While good for a chuckle, the ad gave me the chills. After all, the man is bare-bottomed in the snow. By the looks of it, he’s standing in real snow. I’d like to think his Estonian diet was instrumental in giving him the fortitude to stand there for 30 seconds in a foot of fluffy-white. With that assumption, let’s take a look at the Estonian food that might have sustained him through his cold …

Monday Meal Review: Eritrea

THE SCENE “It’s alive!” my sister gasped. I chuckled, shrugging off the suggestion as a joke. “No look!” she said, pointing into the bowl. I brought my face closer. Just wait, she said. Bloop. Bloop. Two bubbles wiggled their way to the surface, making the blackish, scuzzy liquid quiver slightly. The scent of alcohol and yeast clung to the air. It is alive, I said, “and it smells really … strong!” “It’s totally teff” she said. We recoiled, laughing. Neither of us was sure what to do next. I scanned through the pile of injera recipes that littered the counter tops while Elisa sipped her wine. A few of the recipes suggested pouring off the liquid. Several didn’t mention it. There was no question that I would be pouring it down the drain. There was just no way that liquid was supposed to be part of the injera. Not any injera I’d be eating, anyway. As I tipped the bowl over the sink, I had the creepy, crawly feeling that I was about to dump the …

Italian Eritrea?? (poll)

I like a good surprise. Like when a nun wears pink socks. Or when a not-so-promising movie is actually funny, but – and this is very important – only because you had supremely low expectations (Men who Stare at Goats, anyone?). Consider Eritrea – a hot African land that enjoys injera, spicy berberé seasoning, and lentil wat (stew) – all regionally appropriate. All very expected. Then, look down at Eritrea’s proverbial pink socks, a.k.a. a burst of Italy in an otherwise traditional African nation. In the capital, Asmara, you can sip on a cappuccino and admire the colonial architecture – designed to resemble Italian villas as well as European art deco structures. The Fiat Tagliero gas station is even made to look like an airplane. More than 50,000 colonizers set up their lives in Eritrea, so it is no wonder they eventually called their new home “Little Rome.” Not bad for pink socks! ** Photos courtesy of Carsten ten Brink and Hans van der Splinter (who has a web site devoted to showing the world the beauty …

Menu: Eritrea

Sisters. We share the same mother, the same nose, and the same penchant for immature giggle-fits. She took me to the mall when I was too young to drive. She encouraged me not to get a tattoo. She held me strong after our brother died in 1992. She didn’t blink when I dyed my hair purple at 16. And, this week? She came to pledge her support in the spiritual journey of my sweet Miss Ava. In the process she rolled up her sleeves and helped me cook our Eritrean Global Table. And she suggested I start dying my hair again. Ah, the honesty of sisters. Teff Pancake (Injera) [Recipes] A thin sour pancake pocked with little holes and used as a plate and to scoop up thick stewed vegetables and meats. Berberé – Hot East African Spice mix [Recipe] This popular spice blend is known for scorching heat, but also a balance of background flavors including cinnamon, cumin, paprika, turmeric and more. Spicy Lentil Stew [Recipe] Made with little more than lentils, onions, carrots, and berberé …

About the food of Eritrea

Think Emeril Lagasse knows how to “kick it up a notch?” Check out the food of Eritrea, nestled on the northeastern side of Africa. This hot, dry land holds claim to spicy, deeply seasoned foods very similar to its neighbor, Ethiopia. Eritreans kick it up with berberé [Recipe] – a spice blend made with loads of chili powder, cumin, fenukgreek, cinnamon and half a dozen other spices. Rather than vigorously dusting it on top of the food and shouting “bam!”, the people stir spoonful after spoonful into their meals. If you use as much as a local… well, expect tears. Berberé amps up nearly all dishes, including stewed chicken, lamb, and beef. Even more common than all that meat? Spicy lentils [Recipe] and chickpeas. (Side note – while they have a lengthy shoreline, most fish is exported for consumption) Regardless of what you put berberé on, know this: it will make you sweat. Finger food, anyone? In Eritrea, plates are covered up – blanketed – by the mighty injera, a giant pocked flatbread/pancake made with …

Monday Meal Review: Equatorial Guinea

THE SCENE: A thick strand of ooze connected my spoon to the serving bowl. I wiped it up quickly, before mounding the spiced okra onto Ava’s plate. She looked at the dark green mountain. She looked at me, shook her head, and signed for more fish. This wasn’t going to be easy. “Try the okra, Ava,” I said, cloaking my desperation with a cheerful voice. “Okra. Okra.” I repeated, slowly. I pointed to the plate and smiled. “Try it!” We watched her. We waited. Ava scrunched up her nose and shook her head again. She pushed her food around a little, then squealed with delight. Goldmine! She found another piece of fish, hiding behind the okra. She popped it into her mouth and smiled. One more time I offered her a bite. Just in case. Again, she shook her head but, instead of saying no, she said – clear as day – “Okwa! Okwa. Okwa!” We applauded her new word and encouraged her to say it a few more times. She did, beaming and grinning. She was so happy …

Squirrels, Elephant Ears, and Equatorial Guinea (w/ Poll)

Tulsa seems to be channeling a little bit of Equatorial Guinea. After record-breaking snowstorms, the sky is blue, the air is warm, love birds are chirping, and a squirrel is peering at me over a fence. He’s wondering where the 14 inches of snow went. And why the trees are budding in February. The one thing he doesn’t have to worry about, however, is being dinner. I’m not interested and my cats are way too slow. In Equatorial Guinea, Mr Squirrel might be faced with a different fate. In the countryside, anything that moves is liable to become dinner – although gorillas and monkeys are now off limits. But what about veggies? The people of Equatorial Guinea also eat their veggies. One of the more interesting is the malanga – a tuber with leafy greens that came over with Cubans. Apparently in the 19th century, when slaves and political prisoners were freed from Cuba, many landed in Equatorial Guinea. They brought their malanga with them and the rest is history. Have you heard of elephant ears? …

Menu: Equatorial Guinea

Yesterday you asked me if I was going to be cooking a monkey head. You asked because I shared a photo of a cooked monkey head with you. Totally understandable. To answer your question – there are two reasons why I will not be cooking a monkey head this week. And I think it’s best I leave those reasons to your imagination. Instead I’m cooking a whole fish and will include the whole head for authenticity purposes. As for the rest? Thankfully, Equatorial Guinea is full of all sorts of wonderful dishes, dishes whose ingredients are easily found in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Check it out… what sounds good to you? Millet Porridge with Ginger [Recipe] Millet flour cooked until thick with milk, fresh ginger and sugar. Finished with a dusting of cinnamon. Or sin, as mom likes to call it. Serve for breakfast. Grilled Stuffed Trout [Recipe] Whole trout stuffed with thinly sliced poblano, onion, and lemons – then grilled until flaky. Hot Curried Okra from Equatorial Guinea [Recipe] Okra cooked with curry, chili powder, and …

About the food of Equatorial Guinea

My riding instructor invited me hunting when I was 15 years old. The thought of riding through France’s foggy woods seemed romantic, adventurous, and disarmingly elite. I desperately wanted to say yes, but I had a squeamish feeling I just couldn’t shake. Bottom line? I didn’t want to kill my dinner and I didn’t want to watch other people kill their dinner. Thankfully, I didn’t have to. I was surrounded by supermarkets, cafes, street vendors, and – just down from our house – carrot and mushroom farms. I could eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I said no. The closest I ever got to hunting was to pluck a carrot from the farm. Illegally. It was the biggest carrot I’d ever seen but, thanks to a lack of running water and guilt, it tasted like dirt. In Equatorial Guinea, killing dinner is not always a choice. The rural people are known for hunting and fishing for their dinners because this is the cheapest and most available way to eat. Whole fish [Recipe], crustaceans, and various …