Global Cuisine

When I was growing up, "leafy green vegetable" meant spinach. At some point swiss chard was added to the repertoire and then bok choy. But that was really it. Oh sure, we had salad every night, but no other cooked leafy greens. Later on I discovered the sharp bite of mustard greens, the silky mellowness of cooked escarole and the spicy bitterness of turnip greens. These days my organic market delivery brings me kale and collard greens too. But I still like spinach and swiss chard for sentimental reasons.

Another category mainly skipped over in my childhood was legumes. We ate Mexican refried beans, chili beans, and baked beans, but that was about it. I guess if I had been raised in the South I might have been exposed to more beans and greens, but I wasn't. In college on a budget I lived on black beans, and in Italy I discovered white or cannellini beans. Out on my own I experimented with lentil stews and soups of all kinds until I discovered a recipe for Syrian lentil and chard soup. That was it. No other lentil recipes need apply.

“Foodie” vacations are usually to countries like France, Italy or China. But Jamaica? Sun, surf, music and, dare we forget, ganja, of course, but food? So how fabulous to find it is also a haven for some mighty fine dining.

On a recent trip with my two adult daughters, both huge food fans, it was no surprise to find the food at Chris Blackwell’s Golden Eye Resort to be very good, considering it’s a world-class luxury hotel. By all accounts Mr. Blackwell’s chefs have been serving “farm to table” fare before Brooklyn became hip and those 3 words became an overly-used tagline.

The three of us were on a mother/daughter bonding trip. One coming in from the cold back East, one from a damp fall college semester in London, and I was coming from sunny Southern California to celebrate one of those big number birthdays!

We were all on the same page as to what we wanted to do. Nothing. Lay in the sun, swim in the green/blue bath temperature sea, read beach books, and sit by the pool sipping fruit infused drinks decorated with paper umbrellas. (Made with Mr. Blackwell’s private label rum.) Naps were nice, as well. Again, because we were staying at Golden Eye we figured we would eat well, but none of us counted on the OMG moments we had. Several times!

Growing up in a dual cultured household gave me the opportunity to enjoy varied foods, and to make up recipes incorporating my Mexican and Peruvian roots. If there is one thing that our house was filled with, it was warmth in the form of comfort food. With kids returning to school, fall is just around the corner and this is an easy recipe I enjoy with my family on sunless weekends. It incorporates my mother’s Mexican style of cooking with lots of citrus and flavor, and my father’s Peruvian technique of basically putting everything in one pot into the oven.

The idea of this recipe came to me while traveling in Peru in 2010. I experience my first “pachamanca” while visiting family in the high altitude villages 2 hours away from Lima. Pachamanca is a Quechua word; a language still spoken in Peru today. Pacha means: of the earth; and manca mean: pot. This form of cooking requires that all ingredients go into a large hole in the earth lined with hot stones. This includes Chicken, lamb, beef, guinea pigs, potatoes, etc. Once all ingredients are placed inside, it’s covered with more stones, and ultimately becomes a mound of dirt. Within a couple of hours, everything inside is cooked to a tender texture and wonderful flavors.

Congee is rice served "wet" in a broth with vegetables, tofu, meat, seafood, or poultry.

Congee is the Asian equivalent of Jewish chicken soup, perfect when the weather is cold and damp or you're fighting off a cold. Served in a variety of ways, depending on the country of origin or what's in season, the basic dish is made with cooked rice, a liquid, and flavorings. You'll find dozens of authentic, regional recipes in cookbooks and online, but in our kitchen "congee" is another way of saying repurposed deliciousness.

Whatever we don't eat at a Japanese, Chinese, Vietnamese, or Thai restaurant we bring home. Invariably, a container of rice is included along with the kung pao chicken, tempera shrimp and vegetables, stir fried beef with broccoli, or sweet and sour pork that we couldn't finish.

Reheating these dishes at home is one option, but transforming them into congee is better. For example, converting vegetable and shrimp tempura into an aromatic, deeply satisfying and delicious congee is one way this simple technique can turn left-overs into the best comfort food you've ever eaten.

Tempura Vegetable and Shrimp Congee