Showing posts with label Tanzania. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tanzania. Show all posts

Sunday, February 25, 2007

Spicing Up Your Daily Grind

In college, I made drip coffee. After college, I graduated to French press. As I turned 30, I acquired an affinity for coffee brewed in a sleek stovetop espresso-maker. One thing stayed the same – I liked my coffee dark, black and unadulterated.

Until our trip to Zanzibar. There, it is not the usual subjects – sugar and milk – that people add to their cuppa. Instead, as would befit life on the “Spice Islands,” Zanzibaris infuse their coffee with spices. Cardamom and ginger to be exact. For me, Zanzibar coffee is not everyday coffee – it can be a little too much of an event for my senses when I’m groggy and just trying to get myself out of the house. On Sundays, however, I can enjoy breathing in the aromatic steam before each sip and feeling the tickle at the back of my throat where the ginger and cardamom hit.

Zanzibar coffee is prepared similarly to Turkish or Bosnian coffee, and, like these nation’s brews, is served in tiny cups. If you choose, you can accompany your cup with a cube or two of sugar. Or, even better – and more traditional – forgo the sugar and intersperse your sipping with nibbles on a sweet, plump date.

Many people are rather protective of their morning routines, and won’t like the idea of disrupting this routine with a new method of coffee brewing. If this is you, instead of following the recipe below, try simply adding some cardamom and ginger to your normal brewing method. For example, in a French press, you can let the cardamom pods, ground cardamom and ground ginger steep along with your ground coffee. With drip coffee, make a strong brew, and then stir in the ground spices before serving. Experiment!

Zanzibar Coffee
Adapted from A Taste of Zanzibar: Chakula Kizuri
Serves 6 (small cups!)

750 milliliters / 3 cups water
3 cardamom pods
75 milliliters / 5 tablespoons ground coffee (less for weaker coffee)
2.5 milliliters / ½ teaspoon ground cardamom
2.5 milliliters / ½ teaspoon ground ginger

Boil the water for 10 minutes with the cardamom pods. Add the ground coffee, stir and boil for another five minutes. Stir in the ground cardamom and ground ginger, and remove from the heat. Pick out the cardamom pods, and serve. Like Turkish or Bosnian coffee, a bitter, coffee-grind sludge will gather at the bottom of your cup – don’t drink this!

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Pizza for the Adventurer

All right, Mr./Ms. Adventurous Eater: so, you think you’ve tried every type of pizza there is. You’ve ordered the egg and ham pizza in Australia, had slices of biltong grace your South African pie, and eaten just about every topping combination from yuppie vegetarian (organic rocket pesto accompanied by slow-roasted tomatoes, Thai basil and fresh, hormone-free ricotta) to redneck carnivore (name-your-meat slathered in ranch dressing).

But have you tried Zanzibar pizza? I didn’t think so.

When Mark and I visited Zanzibar last November, we discovered that one of the most popular food items at the night market was this stuffed bread dish. It’s not really pizza – there is no cheese or sauce to speak of – but, it somehow tastes strangely similar. The bread lies somewhere between a crêpe and a chapatti, the filling typically includes mince meat, onion, chili, egg, garlic and mayonnaise, and the whole shebang is topped with hot sauce.

Last night Mark and I made a vegetarian version that compensated for the meat with cabbage and tomato. I could have closed my eyes and told you that what I was eating was Zanzibar pizza. But, as I have previously writtenit is impossible to separate a food from a place or an experience. Zanzibar pizza is no different. Without the sound of waves crashing and vendors hawking, the smell of fish grilling, and the sight of smoky fires and headscarf-clad women, Zanzibar pizza was Zanzibar pizza, but it wasn’t Zanzibar pizza. Does that make any sense?

If you’ve never eaten Zanzibar pizza on Zanzibar, then you won’t have this problem, and you will enjoy the dish for what it is – a tasty snack or light, casual main course that welcomes being washed down with a frosty glass of beer.

Zanzibar Pizza
Adapted from A Taste of Zanzibar: Chakula Kizuri
Serves 6

2 cups / 250 grams plain flour
½ teaspoon / 2.5 milliliters salt
½ cup / 125 milliliters water (plus more, if needed)
Vegetable oil, for coating dough and frying
1 medium onion, minced
2 small tomatoes, chopped
1 cup cabbage, finely shredded
3 fresh chilies, deseeded and minced (I used two green and one red, for color)
1 tablespoon / 15 milliliters fresh garlic, minced
1 tablespoon / 15 milliliters fresh ginger, grated
2 tablespoo
ns / 30 milliliters cilantro (a.k.a. fresh coriander) stems and leaves, chopped
6 eggs
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
Tomato chutney and/or hot sauce, for serving

Sift the flour into a medium bowl and add the salt. Pour in the water, adding more, if necessary, to create a smooth dough. Knead the dough for three minutes, and then divide it into six equally-sized balls. Place the dough balls in a shallow dish, rub plenty of vegetable oil over them, and cover the dish. Let the dough sit for two hours.

Stretch the dough into a very thin 10-inch / 25-centimeter circles, making sure that the edges are thinner than the centers. Place 1/6 of each topping (onion, tomato, cabbage, chili, garlic, ginger and cilantro) in the center of each circle. Now, here is where talented Zanzibari street vendors would effortlessly crack an egg over these toppings and seal the dough into a package without any egg sliding out. I am not this talented. So, I would recommend frying the eggs until they are just set, and then adding one to each pizza. Grind salt and pepper over everything, to taste. Then, fold the top and bottom sides of the dough to the center, and close the dough package by folding in the left and right sides. Make sure there are no holes in the dough or any cracks where egg or filling could escape.

Cook the pizza packages, using as little vegetable oil as possible, in a fry pan over medium-low heat. How many you can cook at one time depends on the size of your fry pan. (Note: If you need to make multiple batches, it is advisable to keep the dough balls covered until you are ready to use them.) You want to cook the pizzas until the dough is toasty-brown on both sides and the fillings are warmed through, all while making sure that runny egg doesn’t escape during the process of flipping the pizza. Acquiring such certainty requires about eight minutes of cooking on one side, and three on the other.

Serve hot, with a spoonful of tomato chutney or hot sauce on top and, if you desire, a garnish of extra cilantro and minced chilies.

Okay, maybe now you’ve tested every pizza possibility.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Karibu! A Field Trip to Zanzibar

If you are gorging yourself on coconuts, fish, pineapples and a bonanza of bananas, chances are, you’re on a tropical island. But if your fish is marinated in tamarind and lime, your tea steeped in lemongrass, your coffee infused with ginger and cardamom, your mouth burning from chilies, and your meal accompanied by chapattis and roasted breadfruit or cassava, then there is only one place in the world you could be – Zanzibar.

Like Timbuktu or Transylvania, Zanzibar is a place you might have heard of, but might not be able to state, with absolute certainty: 1) whether it truly exists or 2) where in the world it might be. Dust off your atlas and find Tanzania, in East Africa. Pick out Dar es Salaam, the country’s largest city, located along the coast. Off the coast, to the northeast, is the Zanzibar Archipelago. The archipelago consists of Pemba, a scattering of tiny islets, and the main island, Unguja (which, by itself, is often referred to as “Zanzibar”).

Zanzibar was a key trading post for slaves and then spices during the 18th and 19th centuries. This history created a society characterized by an amazing convergence of African, Indian, Arab and Persian cultures, all of which have influenced Zanzibar’s religion, architecture, and, of course, its food. For example, on Zanzibar you can eat ugali (Tanzania’s permutation of African stiff maize-meal porridge); dig into Indian-inspired plates of biriani, pilau and coconut milk-based curries; and nibble plump dates with your coffee. One of our trip highlights was snacking on lentil bhajias while watching the sun set over Stone Town from the Tower Top Restaurant at 236 Hurumzi (formally Emerson and Green), while the evening call for prayer wafted on the sea breeze from every mosque spire.

Coming from a landlocked country, we eagerly anticipated Zanzibar’s many opportunities for ocean-gathered eating. Upon arrival, we headed straight for Forodhani Gardens, a night market that boasts table after table laden with calamari steaks, octopus, crab claws and an astonishing array of fish kebabs – your choices include red snapper, kingfish, tuna, and prawns, to name a few. It’s a chaotic scene. Smoke rises from dozens of grills and every vendor uses his best sales pitch to attract your attention (and money) while you negotiate aisles clogged with wide-eyed tourists, gaggles of local teens, and “helpers” directing you to their preferred stall. Another Forodhani staple is Zanzibar pizza which, despite being a crêpe topped with cheese, green chili, onion, tomato, egg, cilantro, mayonnaise, ginger paste, garlic and minced meat (optional), somehow actually does taste like pizza and is surprisingly good. It also reminded me of a favorite street food from China, jian bing.

Zanzibar was once known as the Spice Islands, and spices are still an important export. “Spice tours” – visits to farms that grow spice-generating trees and plants, as well as tropical fruits – are an established tourist must-do, and we happily complied. We discovered that both cardamom and peppercorn are native to the island, but that the other spices Zanzibar is known for – vanilla, clove and cinnamon – were all brought here by the Omari Sultons who ruled during the 1800s, when Zanzibar was the Arab Empire’s capital in East Africa. I love learning where the ingredients I cook with actually come from, so it was fascinating to see turmeric and cardamom plants, vanilla-bean vines, and cloves growing on trees as well as drying on large sheets in the sun. We got to taste-test many items, including fresh peppercorns, straight from the vine (which make your mouth tingle) and the tart mbiri mbiri, a variety of star fruit used in recipes as a substitute for lime. We also timidly tried a red chili that is called “pilipili-hoho” in Swahili because you have to exhale with a “hoho” after eating it in an attempt to extinguish the fire in your mouth. In addition to being used in food, we learned that Zanzibaris have found other uses for spice plants and trees. For instance, cloves are used for toothaches and the menthol-scented root of the cinnamon tree is mixed with oil and used to relieve chest colds.

One of the many things I loved about Zanzibar is that although you can plunk yourself down on a stunning white-sand, palm-fringed beach, the island is not one big, sterile, tropical resort. It is very much a living, breathing, bustling and, in many areas, poor and gritty, place. Public transport consists of dalla-dallas – pick-ups with modified truck beds featuring benches, wood or iron-lattice sides, and an awning top. They rattle along streets lined with tin-roofed market stalls selling everything from fish to fruit to phone cards. Scooters zip and weave, some with strapped-on metal jugs that dispense milk – Zanzibar’s version of the milkman. By the coast, you can spot sailboats called “dhows” in the distance. They are endlessly photogenic, but also functional – this is what fishermen use to catch all that fish at Forodhani. At low tide, people with buckets wade into the ocean, collecting seaweed in plastic bags for export to East Asia, while young boys catch tiny fish in the tide pools using worms tied to a string.

Over the next few months, I’ll be trying to replicate some of our favorite Zanzibari dishes and drinks: red kidney beans with coconut (maharagwe), lentil bhajias, dawa (a drink made with konyagi, a local gin), Zanzibar pizza, Zanzibar coffee and many more. Stay tuned!

Monday, November 27, 2006

Pucker Up! A Taste of Tamarind

This past weekend I was lounging on the soft-sand, turquoise-water beach of south-east Zanzibar, equidistant from the ocean and a crystal-clear pool. There, between catnaps, I read the first few sections of John Reader’s fascinating epic Africa: A Biography of the Continent. One of the many things I learned was that humans likely evolved from primates when our ancestors began exploiting the opportunity to forage for food during the day, while most carnivores in the East African savanna were sound asleep. These daytime adventures required long hours under the hot, tropical sun, and, over time, the individuals who flourished were those who started to walk upright – which exposed less surface area to direct sunlight – and those who lost their thick coat of hair. Eventually, Reader says, we humanoids evolved to boast the most efficient cooling system of any mammal.

Very interesting stuff, and very coincidental to be reading it under that same tropical East African sun, where every move is sweat-inducing. Reader also says that the way our cooling system developed – sporting well-developed sweat glands, for example, instead of a muzzle – actually made the evolution of a large brain physiologically possible. It is this large brain that allows us to solve problems. Problems such as: My body may be an efficient cooling machine, but I feel hot. What should I do? Ah, yes, I will invent something called a refrigerator and use this nifty appliance to chill water into tiny cubes. Over these ice cubes, I will pour a beverage that will quench my thirst, give me a quick burst of energy, and jolt awake my taste buds with a puckery tang.

In other words: When in Zanzibar, I will drink tamarind juice.

The tamarind tree is native to the East African tropics. Its fruit is a long pod, and inside the pod are shiny, brown seeds surrounded by a thick, rust-colored pulp. When the pod is picked, it dehydrates into coarse, stringy fibers, which makes the tamarind that you, say, purchase at a Zanzibari market and carry with you back to Zimbabwe, distinctively unattractive (see photo). It is the pulp that you eat, and that is packaged and sold as tamarind paste.

Mark and I first drank tamarind juice during breakfast at the Tembo House Hotel on our first morning in Zanzibar. We could not stop refilling our glasses. The juice was sweet and sour with that tell-tale tamarind texture of almost syrupy thickness. Today, back in Zimbabwe, I used our “imported” fresh tamarind to make this recipe. We puckered our lips, and imagined the beach.

Tamarind Juice (Maji ya Ukwaju)
Adapted from A Taste of Zanzibar: Chakula Kizuri
Serves 8

4 cups of water, plus 3 cups
½ pound / 230 grams tamarind pods*
1¾ cups sugar

Place the tamarind pods and 4 cups of water in a large saucepan and soak the pods for one hour. Put the saucepan on the stovetop and bring the mixture to a boil. Cool.

Your next task is to remove all the stringy bits and seeds from the pan. I did this with a combination of my hands and a strainer. First, I used my hands to pick out the seeds from the pot. The membrane and any remaining pulp around the seeds should be soft and can easily be separated from the seed. Discard the seeds and return the membranes and pulp to the pan. Some seeds may have broken apart – I found that these bits are most easily captured with a fine strainer.

When all the strings and seeds are gone, use an immersion blender to blend the remaining liquid. Strain again. Add the sugar and 3 more cups of water and boil again for five minutes. Taste the liquid and add more sugar if you think it is necessary. Chill. Serve over ice cubes.

*Miriam, a Tanzanian blogger, has also recently written about tamarind juice, and she combines it with mango to create, I must say, a much more photogenic beverage. Since most people don’t have access to fresh tamarind, she helpfully recommends Laxmi Brand natural tamarind concentrate for recipes that call for tamarind, including juice recipes. Unfortunately, I don’t have any tamarind paste with me here in Zimbabwe; otherwise, I’d try making tamarind juice using the paste, and advise you on how much to use. If anyone attempts this substitute – please let me know what you discover! I’m sure your experimentation will be worth it.