Recent Foodsville Recipes by Cynthia

Papas Arequipeña

caclampitt@att.net — Tue, 08 Apr 2008 01:08:27

Potatoes are indigenous to Peru, so it's not surprising that they figure largely in the local cuisine. This recipe originates in the city of Arequipa, in southern Peru. It combines Inca traditions (potatoes, peanuts, chilies) with colonial (milk, cheese, eggs and olives). It is delicious, filling, and easy to make. In more aristocratic Peruvian homes, this might be presented before the main course, but for most people, it's a meal in itself.

ANZAC Buiscuits

caclampitt@att.net — Sat, 22 Mar 2008 05:57:15

ANZAC is an acronym for Australia New Zealand Army Corps. If you saw the movie “Gallipoli,” you know who these guys are. The corps served with distinction in World War I but ceased to exist when Australia and New Zealand were no longer lumped together by the British as a single entity. There are several stories about the origin of these cookies (which the Aussies, like the Brits, call “biscuits”). Some claim that a group of women created them for care packages for soldiers, another story suggests that they were making a dish that didn’t use eggs, which were dried and sent to soldiers over seas. Whatever the real story is, there is no doubt that their purpose was to honor the brave ANZAC soldiers of World War I.

One note regarding measurements: I got this recipe in Australia, which means that it used a mix of British Imperial measure and European metric. I’ve translated it into American standard measure, but thought you’d wonder why some measures are a little inexact. For example, one cup Imperial is 10 ounces, while in American a cup is 8 ounces, and tablespoons are the tiniest bit bigger in Imperial measure. However, being off one way or the other by a couple of shreds of coconut or drops of golden syrup won’t really make a difference.

Anyway, these are among the most delicious cookies on earth. Enjoy.

Arab Cinnamon Chicken Pilaf

caclampitt@att.net — Fri, 07 Mar 2008 20:35:17

In December of 1972, I was in Israel. I traveled in an old bus, with the luggage piled on top, through the golden south and greener north, among stone houses with chickens and goats in the yards and stone-walled fields where oxen or mules still drew the plows, past deserts, hills, and the rusting remains of tanks from various battles. The range of climate, as well as terrain, was astonishing for such a small country, from the chill, and even snowflakes, of Jerusalem to the mildness of Tiberius, where the gentle sea breeze murmured in the palms along the beach, to the heat of Jericho, which lies 1300 feet below sea level.

Of course, for me, food has always been a major component of travel, and the food in Israel was great. I had falafel for the first time in the open-air market in the Arab quarter of Jerusalem. In Tiberius, I was introduced to millet, and had wonderful breakfasts of goat cheese, tomatoes and olives, gnarly bread and dark coffee.

A friend of my father’s, Doug Young, had founded a college in Jerusalem, the American Institute of Holy Land Studies, and I had received an invitation to come to dinner. The Young’s apartment was fabulous, with Oriental rugs, brass lamps, and inlaid wooden chests. The cuisine was Arab: chicken and rice flavored with cinnamon, onions and almonds. We sat on the floor and ate with our hands. Hot, mint tea was served in tall glasses. It was a memorable meal.

The recipe below is my recreation of the memorable dish I enjoyed that night. It’s okay if you eat this with a knife and fork, but if you try it with your hands, remember not to serve it piping hot, and remember, too, that if you were in Arab company, you would have to use your right hand to eat.