Today is a milestone in the ongoing work that has been my young adult novel entitled (after MANY previous iterations) Stir It Up! The book will be out from Scholastic Press this August but, today, the pre-order page was put up on amazon.com. Pretty exciting! If you want to check it out, you can see it here. Thanks, as always, for all your support!
This past Sunday I prepared a number of Trinidad Chinese dishes for a story I wrote for NPR’s Kitchen Window, to be published next week in celebration of the Chinese New Year 2011, the Year of the Rabbit.
The picture you see is what we in Trinidad call a lagniappe or “a little something extra”. Those of you familiar with New Orleanian culture will also be familiar with the term.
Using my Caribbean style practical-magic I threw together this dish with the bits and pieces from other items on the menu–rum washed pork, red pepper, onion, and christophene (also known as chayote). My husband, photographer Jean Paul Vellotti, took the photos of the dishes and this is the final result of my experiment with the extras.
And here’s another lagniappe: For this recipe–and others–to make a Trini Chinese New Year feast, check out NPR’s Kitchen Window, next Wednesday, Feb 2, 2o11.
Plus, don’t forget to check back here for a variation on the NPR-published version of this dish.
Special thanks to Miya’s Sushi of New Haven, CT for the use of their kitchen and dining room for the shoot.
What’s to say about that dark, rummy, aromatic fruit cake known throughout the Caribbean as Black Cake? More than can be written here. It’s the stuff family legend is made of, and mastering the perfect Black Cake is no easy task. Here is the essay about this must-have for holiday cheer, along with my now-infamous recipe that took many years to perfect.
Black cake is traditionally a Christmas cake or a wedding cake. When it is used for weddings, a boiled white icing is added. However, of late, I’ve noticed that it is also offered at other special occasions like graduations or christenings.
Every family has a bottle of fruit soaking for their Christmas black cake—usually, for some odd reason, under the kitchen sink, a fact that leads my friend Patrick Dooley to call it “under the sink cake.” In fact, as soon as I’m done doing my round of Christmas baking, the jar gets refilled to soak for next year’s batch. Most people have their own way of doing black cake, from the ingredients in the soaking liquid to whether the fruit is soaked whole or first pureed, to using white versus light or dark brown sugar. Some, like my friend Darrel Sukhdeo, like their Black Cake to be as moist as pudding while others like a more “cakey” consistency. The recipe in this book is one that I have developed based on trial, error, and personal taste and uses the creaming method for a fluffier but moist cake.
For me, Black Cake conjures up all kinds of personal lore. I remember my cousin Pinky from Tobago sending my father a Black Cake every December as a Christmas treat. She often added Guinness stout to her fruit-soaking liquid, although some folks, like my friend Shairoon Nicholas, use Malta Carib, a non-alcoholic stout. Pinky’s Black Cake arrived wrapped in tinfoil and nestled in a cookie tin, having borne the three-week boat trip totally and utterly unscathed. The long soaking in wine and rum, along with post-baking basting, kept the cake well preserved for weeks on end. It would sit, wrapped, on the kitchen table, and Ramesh and I would steal little nips of it, although we had been told to leave it alone because of its heavy alcohol content. I suspect the fact that we picked around the bits of fruit to the creamy cake itself, effectively mangling the poor loaf, didn’t help our case either. My only regret is that I didn’t master Black Cake until after my father died, so he never tasted my version.
Before my husband and I were married, during our first Christmas together, he watched me struggle to make ten Black Cakes for friends and relatives using an old hand mixer. I had never attempted to make such a volume before and the old machine was barely up to the task. It was a long, laborious process. Imagine my surprise on Christmas morning, when I opened a box to reveal a standing 6-quart mixer.
“I just couldn’t bear watching you struggle with all those cakes,” was J.P.’s comment.
That mixer remains one of my most treasured gifts and it proved its mettle when I made two hundred mini Black Cakes as favors for my brother’s wedding. Of course, every Christmas it sees its finest hours as I turn out batch after batch of Black Cake for eager friends and relatives.
Black Cake
20 servings
For many years I thought Black Cake was a variation on English plum pudding brought to the island by English colonists. On a research trip to Ireland in 2008, I came to learn about Christmas Cake, a confection of liquor-soaked dried fruits made specifically for the winter holidays. Sure enough, further research revealed that Trinidad was among those English colonial islands that had a fairly large population of Irish indentured laborers. Jamaica, Barbados, and Montesserat are the notable others. While subsumed by the larger Indian and African populations, certain Irish throwbacks remain, such as a love for Guinness, Sea Moss Drink, and Black Cake which only differs from Irish versions by the liquor used and the use of burnt sugar syrup to make the cake dark.
Many a culinarian has waxed prolific about the Black Cake’s rich aromatic flavors and unusual texture that is something between a plum pudding and a pound cake. Although it could technically be called a fruitcake because of the candied and dried fruits that comprise its bulk, no fruitcake ever tasted this good!
Special credit must be given here to Mrs. Irma Hannays of Woodbrook, a former librarian-turned-pastry-chef who is noted throughout Trinidad and many other Caribbean Islands for her sweet hands when it comes to making wedding and other special occasion cakes. Mrs. Hannays, who turns out prodigious numbers of Black Cakes every year for friends, family, and clients, developed the fast-soaking variation offered below—a great boon to Black Cake lovers who want to have their cake and eat it too “now for now” as we say in Trinidad.
Fruit
1 pound raisins
1 pound currants
1 pound prunes
1/4 pound mixed citrus peel
1/2 pound candied cherries
4 cups cherry brandy or cherry wine
4 cups dark rum, such as Old Oak
1 cinnamon stick
2 star anise pods
1/2 vanilla bean
Cake
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon grated nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon ground allspice
1 cup (2 sticks) butter, softened
1 cup dark brown sugar
6 eggs
1/2 teaspoon mixed essence
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 tablespoon burnt sugar syrup*
Basting Liquid
1/4 cup dark rum
1/4 cup cherry brandy
2 tablespoons sherry
1. Long-soak method for fruit (see alternate quick-soak method below): Place all the fruit ingredients except the vanilla bean in a gallon jar that can be tightly sealed—preferably with a suction lid. Split the vanilla bean and scrape out the seeds. Add these to the jar, along with the bean. Mix very well and seal. Store, unrefrigerated, in a cool, dark place for at least 3 weeks or up to 1 year.
2. Preheat the oven to 350°F and grease two 9-inch round cake pans.
3. Sift together the flour, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice.
4. Place the butter and sugar in a bowl and beat with an electric mixer until fluffy, about 4 minutes. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Add the mixed essence and vanilla.
5. Using a slotted spoon, remove 5 cups of the soaked fruit from the jar or all of the cooked fruits from the saucepan if using quick-soak method, reserving liquid. Place in the bowl of a food processor and pulse to a coarse paste. Add fruit paste to the batter and beat well.
6. Add the flour mixture 1/2 cup at a time, beating well after each addition. Add the burnt sugar syrup and mix well.
7. Divide the batter evenly between the prepared pans and bake for 40 minutes, then lower the heat to 250°F and bake for another 45 minute to an hour, or until a cake tester inserted into the middle of the cake comes out clean.
8. Remove from the oven and cool for 20 minutes in the pan. Combine the rum, brandy, and sherry for basting, or if you used the quick-soak method use the reserved liquid for basting, and evenly brush the cooled cakes with this mixture. Allow the cakes to cool completely.
9. Remove cakes from the pans. Wrap tightly in plastic wrap and then tinfoil. You may also place the cakes in a tightly lidded plastic container. Store in a cool, dry place for at least 3 days before eating. Black cake can be stored for up to 3 months in the refrigerator. If doing so, rebaste with the basting mixture once every 2 weeks.
*TIP: Commercially prepared burnt sugar syrup is available in West Indian markets. If you cannot find it, you can make your own by placing 2 tablespoons of dark brown sugar and 1 tablespoon of water in a dry frying pan over medium-low heat. Heat slowly, swirling the sugar in the pan until it starts to caramelize. Continue swirling until the sugar syrup becomes very dark brown—almost black. Add to batter as needed.
Alternate quick-soak method for fruit: Combine 1 cup raisins, 1 cup currants, 1 cup pitted prunes, 3 tablespoons mixed citrus peel, and 1 cup candied cherries, cinnamo stick and anise in a large saucepan with 1 1/2 cups cherry brandy and 1 1/2 cups rum.Place saucepan over medium heat and bring the mixture to a simmer. Simmer for 10 minutes, then cover and remove from heat. Allow to cool completely before using.
Stuffing for 15-pound turkey
This unusual stuffing for your holiday bird is from Karen Felician of Maraval, Trinidad. Turkeys, imported from the United States, have become highly popular fare for Christmas and Easter in Trinidad & Tobago.
2 to 3 pounds chataigne (jackfruit)
1 1/2 teaspoons green seasoning (recipe here)
1 packet Maggi Spicy Seasoning (available in the Mexican aisle of grocery stores, or in Caribbean markets)
1 tablespoon canola oil
1 small onion, minced
3 cloves garlic, minced
turkey giblets, minced (optional)
2 pimiento peppers, stemmed and minced, [note, you can get dried pimientos from spice markets like Kalustyan's]
1 tablespoon butter
2 teaspoons Hunt’s ketchup, or 2 teaspoons other brand ketchup mixed with 1/2 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon soy sauce
1/2 cup raisins
1. Place the chataigne in a large pot with water to cover and bring to a boil. Simmer until soft, about 30 minutes. Remove from the pan and peel.
2. Cut the chataigne in half and dig out the seeds. Peel the seeds and set aside. Cut the chataigne flesh into chunks and place in the bowl of a food processor with the peeled seeds, green seasoning, and Maggi seasoning. Pulse to a coarse meal about the consistency of wet sand.
3. Heat the oil in a heavy-bottomed pot and add the onions and sauté until translucent. Add the garlic and fry for 30 seconds more and then add the giblets, if using.
4. Add the butter to the onion mixture and heat until the butter melts. Stir in the chataigne mixture. Add the ketchup, soy sauce, raisins, and 1/4 cup of water. Mix well and cook, stirring often, until all the liquid is absorbed, about 7 to 10 minutes. Cool completely.
5. Use this mixture to stuff a turkey following the same directions for bread stuffing. This stuffing can also be baked in a lightly greased casserole dish, covered with aluminum foil at 350°F for 30 minutes.
Throughout the Caribbean, anywhere there is an East Indian influence, curry is a way of life and curried fruits are some of the most interesting and creative way that locals make use of the plentiful fruits on their respective islands. One that is wonderfully curried is pomme cythère or “pomsee-tay” is also called “golden apple,” really ambarella, a tree fruit in the citrus family. In Jamaica it is called June Apple. Once upon a time it was near impossible to find this fruit in the United States, but happily, as professional chefs’ interest in unusual citrus has grown, fruits like ugli fruit, pomelo, and pomme cythère are pretty widely available. Pomme cythère now makes regular appearances at Caribbean markets everywhere and makes a really wonderful curry.
In Trinidad, cooks use a cleaver to chop the fruit into small chunks, slicing right through the spiny, dendritic pit. Although you may do the same, this recipe provides for peeling the fruit and cutting off large chunks, which is easier. If you are ever in Trinidad, try the curried pomsee-tay at Shianns’ on Cipriani Road in Port of Spain—it is the best I’ve ever tasted.
1 tablespoon canola oil
1 small onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon chopped shado beni or cilantro leaves
2 teaspoons ground turmeric
1 tablespoon Trinidad curry powder (page xx)
4 large pomme cythère, peeled and cut into large chunks
1 tablespoon light brown sugar
Coarse or kosher salt to taste
Freshly ground pepper to taste
1. Heat the oil in a heavy pot. Add the onion and sauté until soft, then add the garlic and sauté for about 40 seconds. Add the shado beni (Mexican Culantro) and cook, stirring often, for 30 seconds. Add the turmeric and curry powder and fry for 30 seconds.
2. Add the pomme cythère and sugar, and stir well to coat. Add enough water to barely cover the pomme cythère, and mix well. Cover and simmer over medium-low heat until the fruit is fork tender, about 30 minutes
3. Remove the lid and continue to simmer until the liquid is reduced to a thick gravy. Season with salt and black pepper to taste, and serve with rice or roti (recipe below.)
Makes 4
Like my father, I’ve found that my hand isn’t “set for” making roti. I’ve tried many recipes over the years and have better success with some than others. The best recipe I’ve found comes from my dear friend Darrel Sukhdeo whom I met shortly completing the first edition of this book in 2004. Darrel is an entrepreneur and wonderful cook who cooked at many an Indian wedding in Trinidad, where sometimes hundreds of guests are served roti that is cooked on a four-foot-wide tawa.
The secret to this recipe is not to over work the dough. If your dough is sticky enough to be barely able to be handled, then you’re doing it right.
Roti
2 cups all-purpose flour, plus additional as needed
2 tablespoons baking powder, preferably Lion Brand
1/4 teaspoon coarse or kosher salt
warm water as needed
Paste (Loya)
3 tablespoons cold ghee
2 tablespoons canola oil
1. Whisk together flour, baking powder, and salt in a bowl and gradually add warm water, using your fingers to mix the flour and water together. Do not knead, simply gently combine the flour and water. Continue adding the water until you achieve a soft sticky dough that just comes together into a ball. Cover and set aside to rest for 15 minutes.
2. Make the Paste (Loya) by combining the ghee and oil. Set aside.
3. Flour a work surface and turn out the roti dough. Cut the dough into 4 large pieces and gently form each into a ball. Flour your hands as needed to be able to handle the dough and do not over knead .
4. Roll out each ball of dough into a circle 1/4 inch thick, and brush with the Loya paste. Sprinkle the surface lightly with flour. Make a cut halfway through the middle of one of the circles and roll the dough away from you into a cone shape. Roll the cylinder into a ball by pushing the narrow end of the cone in towards the wider end and pinching the edges closed. Repeat with the remaining circles of dough and let the balls rest for 15 to 20 minutes on a floured surface.
5. Roll the rested dough into 1/8-inch-thick circles and place on a hot tawa or cast-iron griddle. Brush with oil , immediately turn over, and brush with oil again. Continue to flip the dough until it is puffy. Remove from heat and place on a clean dishtowel. Fold the dishtowel to cover the rotis so they stay warm.
This bread’s unusual name, meaning “burst up shirt,” comes from the way its soft cottony folds are shredded after cooking. Simply make Paratha Roti and when removing the bread from the tawa or griddle, use a wooden spoon and lightly beat the cooked bread on a flat surface until it shreds. Alternatively, gently tear into 3-inch-wide strips. Serve hot with curry.
TIP: You can easily increase the amount of roti you want to make using this equation: 1 tablespoon of baking powder and 1/8 teaspoon of coarse or kosher salt for every 1 cup of flour.
If you are me, one of the few good things about the cold weather is hot cocoa. I’m not given to winter activities that freeze my toes (though I’ve decided to go in for ice skating lessons this December–don’t ask). I’ll console myself after returning home with a sore bum (since clearly I’ll be falling a lot) with some old school Hot Cocoa. That is to say, Cocoa Tea–the way they do it in the Caribbean and Central America. The Aztecs knew what they were doing when they ground up those precious cocoa beans with chilies and spices (sugar made it into the mix when it got to Europe, and then ping ponged back to the cane-rich Caribbean.)
Here’s the version from my book, Sweet Hands: Island Cooking From Trinidad & Tobago
Makes 2 cups hot cocoa mix, enough for 16 (8-ounce) servings
Trinidadian chocolate is considered to be among the finest in the world, and large chocolate manufacturers from Europe buy the crop to flavor more widely produced but inferior chocolates from Africa and South America. Cocoa tea is made from “cocoa sticks,” which are 100 percent Trinidad cocoa beans ground into a paste with local spices. The sticks are then dried and grated into boiling water to create a “tea” that is then flavored with condensed milk. Because pure Trinidad chocolate is not readily available outside of the country, I have adapted this recipe to use cocoa powder from producers that use a high percentage of Trinidad chocolate in their product.
Chocolate Mix
2 cups dark unsweetened Valrhona chocolate powder, or 2 (4-ounce) Valrhona Gran Couva, E. Guittard Chuchuri, or Richart Saint Domingue 82% bars, finely chopped
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon ground bay leaf
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
For each serving:
2 tablespoons cocoa mix
1 cup boiling water
2 tablespoons hot cocoa mix
Sweetened condensed milk to taste, or regular milk and heavy cream to taste
1 drop vanilla extract
1. To make the chocolate mix: Combine all the ingredients. Store in a glass jar with a tight lid.
2. To make individual servings of cocoa tea: Mix 2 tablespoons of the cocoa mix into the boiling water. Stir well and return to a boil. Remove the pot from the heat. Add condensed milk to taste and the vanilla extract. (Use the regular milk and heavy cream to taste if the mix is made with chopped chocolate bars.)
Prasad is enormously popular in Trinidad during Diwali and when I was a child visiting the island with my dad at other times of the year, the only way he could persuade me to go to the many Hindu prayer meetings to which he was invited was with the promise of prasad, a sweet dessert that is given to guests at the end of a Hindu religious ceremony. The basic “pudding” is garnished with coconut, raisins, and nuts, which are collectively called panjaree. It’s generally accepted that panjaree is only for actual religious functions although plain prasad—called mohan bohg—can be served any time.
For some amazing photos of this year’s (multicultural!) Diwali in Trinidad please check out Sarina’s wonderful site Trini Gourmet
2 cups ghee
1/2 cup raisins
2 cups farina or Cream of Wheat
2 cups whole milk
3 (12-ounce) cans evaporated milk
4 cups sugar
1 teaspoon peeled and grated fresh ginger
1 teaspoon ground cardamom
Raisins, grated fresh coconut, coarsely chopped almonds, and a few cooked chickpeas, for garnish
1. Heat all but 2 teaspoons of the ghee in a large, deep frying pan. Add the raisins and fry over medium-low heat until they plump. Add the farina 1/4 cup at a time, stirring constantly, until it becomes light brown. Remove from heat.
2. In a separate pan, combine the whole milk, evaporated milk, sugar, ginger, and cardamom. Bring just to a boil, stirring constantly. Remove from the heat and add the milk mixture to the farina mixture over medium-low heat, 1/4 cup at a time, until the prasad forms semi-moist clumps. Remove from the heat. Garnish with grated coconut, almonds, and raisins. Place a few chickpeas on top.
(Jalebis at Rajbhog Sweets)
Today is the beginning of Diwali, the Hindu Festival of Lights and a National Holiday in Trinidad & Tobago, the island-nation from which my dad hailed. Folks of all backgrounds get into Diwali in TT (reason # 456,041 I love my heritage!) Next to the beautiful bamboo sculpture on with delicate clay lamps are perched, the best thing is the sweets. Jalebi, a crunchy spiral fritter drenched in sweet syrup is a must have. It’s sort of like a thinner, crunchier, shinier funnel cake.
If you are lucky enough to live in New York or other major cities, Indian sweet shops like Rajbhog Sweets (those are their jalebis above) have these and other mithai, festive, holiday sweets of all kinds.
If not, here’s an easy recipe from my book Sweet Hands: Island Cooking From Trinidad & Tobago with a special dedication to pal Chenette whose wonderful blog Lifespan of a Chennette, you can read here (www.chennette.net). What’s a chennette you ask? That’s a post for another day…
Read more about Trini Diwali in my Islands magazine story here: http://www.islands.com/article/Taste-The-Sweetest-Memories
Jalebis
Makes 15
Street vendors sell this fritter resembling flat curly fries year-round. It’s best eaten when freshly made and still crispy.
1 teaspoon active dry yeast
2 cups plus 1/4 teaspoon sugar
2 cups warm water (100–110°F)
2 cups all-purpose flour
Orange food coloring
1 cup canola oil, for frying
1. Place the yeast in a small bowl and sprinkle with the ¼ teaspoon sugar. Add 1/4 cup of the warm water and set the yeast mixture aside until it bubbles.
2. Combine the yeast mixture with the flour. Gradually add the remaining warm water until the mixture achieves the consistency of yogurt. Stir in the orange food coloring drop by drop until the mixture is bright orange. Set aside overnight in a warm place.
3. In the meantime, place 2 cups of water and the 2 cups of sugar in a small saucepan and bring to a simmer. Cook until it reaches the consistency of maple syrup, about 5 minutes. Set aside.
4. Pour the jalebi mixture into a squeeze bottle or a pitcher with a narrow spout. Heat the oil in a deep pan. Test the oil by adding a drop of jalebi batter to the oil. If it immediately bubbles and bobs to the top, the oil is hot enough. Squeeze or pour the jalebi dough into the hot oil in overlapping, spiraling circles about 4 inches in diameter. Fry until golden brown on both sides. Remove and drain on a plate lined with paper towels. Continue until all the jalebi dough is used.
5. Transfer the jalebis to a bowl while they are still warm and pour the sugar syrup evenly over them so all the sides are coated.
Coconut milk, hot pepper, and green seasoning give this popular soup a little tropical kick.
2 tablespoons canola oil
2 cups chopped calabaza, pumpkin, or butternut squash
1 small onion, minced
3 cloves garlic, crushed
4 cups chicken or vegetable stock
1 bay leaf
1 sprig fresh thyme
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley
1 tablespoon chopped fresh cilantro
1/2 teaspoon coarse or kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon dark brown sugar
1 cup coconut milk
1/4 teaspoon hot pepper sauce (page xx)
Sour cream (optional)
Chopped chives (optional)
1. Heat the oil in a 4-quart saucepan and add the squash, tossing to coat. Cook for 2 to 3 minutes, then add the onion and garlic. Cover and sweat the vegetables for about 3 minutes.
2. Add the stock, bay leaf, thyme, oregano, parsley, cilantro, and salt. Cover and simmer for 10 minutes, then remove the lid and simmer over low heat for 10 minutes more, or until the pumpkin is fork tender.
3. Remove the bay leaf and discard. Remove the vegetables and herbs from the soup with a slotted spoon and place in a blender or food processor and puree until smooth. Return to the pot and add the sugar and coconut milk and mix well.
4. Simmer the soup for 5 minutes, or until reduced by one-quarter. Add the pepper sauce and simmer for 2 minutes more. Serve hot, garnished with a dollop of sour cream and some chives.
TIP: Cheese or “pie” pumpkins have a sweet flesh that is a great substitute for calabaza (West Indian pumpkin). They are widely available in October and November and can be stored in a cool dry place right through the winter. Alternatively, if using for purees or soup, I peel and cut the pumpkin into large chunks and freeze in individual zip-top bags of about one pound each.
6 to 8 servings
Of African origin, this thick soup is made on many Caribbean islands including Guadeloupe and Jamaica, where what is called callalloo leaves is actually a variety of spinach. It’s also considered the national dish of Trinidad. It makes use of dasheen (taro) leaves, which lend a particular almost tangy flavor. Dasheen or callalloo is easily found in Caribbean markets. I see it a lot as a decorative garden element nowadays–it’s called “elephant ears”. A mixture of fresh spinach and Swiss chard (which are seasonally available much of the year) is a good substitute if you cannot get dasheen. Callalloo can be made with or without crabmeat, according to taste. You may also omit the pork or turkey for a vegetarian version
1 pound dasheen/taro leaves, or 1/2 pound each spinach and Swiss chard, stemmed and
chopped
6 cups chicken stock
1 onion, finely chopped
1 clove garlic, chopped
3 scallions, green and white parts, chopped
2 tablespoons minced fresh chives
1/4 teaspoon fresh thyme
4 ounces lean salt pork, Canadian bacon, or smoked turkey cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1/2 pound fresh, canned, or frozen crabmeat
1/2 cup coconut milk
1/2 pound young okra, or 1 (10-ounce) package frozen okra, sliced
Salt and pepper to taste
1/4 teaspoon hot pepper (habanero variety) sauce or to taste
1. Place the greens in a soup pot with the chicken stock, onion, garlic, scallions, chives, thyme, and salt pork. Cover and simmer over low heat until the pork is fork tender, about 30 minutes.
2. Add the crabmeat, coconut milk, and okra and mix well. Simmer over medium heat for another 25 minutes, or until the okra begins to break down. (If you like the okra firmer, reduce cooking time accordingly.) Season to taste with salt, black pepper, and hot pepper sauce.