In my family of five, we had different food preferences growing up that still influence how we cook and the food and flavours we most enjoy. My older sister's food of choice is Mexican (my younger brother's falls along the line of "if anyone else cooks something, it's my food of choice!" She lives in Belgium so it's a bit of an issue for her when she gets cravings. My mother went over to Brussels to visit her grandchildren and all my sister requested from Canada were cans of blackbeans. After living in both Mexico and Guatemala, she fell in love with their way of life, their generosity of spirit, and their food. I went to Mexico and the first thing I noticed in the sprawling, sweltering city of Guadalajara where I lived was that everyone, including the men, were 5 inches shorter than me. And as a rigid vegetarian at the time, I balked at how much meat there was, seemingly tucked into every cavity possible. I ate lunch out at a fancy restaurant one afternoon in the historic square and ordered a dish that had the word verde in its title (meaning green); it turned out to be a sort of pasta stuffed with the most toxic smelling chicken I have ever had the displeasure of being close to. The sauce was a messy take on gravy and there was nothing green or fresh about any of it. I took one bite, out of politeness, and almost fainted at the effort it took to swallow. Someone at the table took pity on me as I swirled and swirled my food around the plate, cutting bits of the poultry log and then putting it aside, dipping it in the sauce and putting it down, and she offered me a section of her quesadilla. I took a few big, gleeful bites before I noticed the maggot waving its eyeless head at me from a fold of melted cheese. About the only thing I'll have out at a restaurant now in Mexico is a margerita.
My parents love Italian and French food which is just too much bread, pasta, and meat for my fiery palette. I favour sour and tangy and hot. Southeast Asian food is a natural choice because of its fresh intensities of herbal flavours, its spice, its heat, and lack of processed flour. Here's a dinner that my boyfriend who has more traditional tastes adored and which had enough strong Asian accents to please me. It's a super easy and fast dinner to make.
Chinese Five Spice can be bought at any ethnic grocery store, spice shop, natural/bulk/health food store or in Toronto at St. Lawrence Market or Kensington Market. It contains a traditional blend of spices commonly used in Chinese cooking, listed in the order of potency: cinnamon, star anise, fennel, ginger, cloves, white pepper, licorice.
Grilled Five-Spice Chicken Thighs with Soy Dipping Sauce
Serves four to six
2 Tbsp Chinese five-spice powder 1 Tbsp plus 1 tsp dark brown sugar 1 tsp garlic powder 3/4 tsp salt 2 Tbsp soy sauce 2 tsp rice vinegar 1 tsp sesame oil 1/4 tsp crushed red pepper flakes 2 1/2 lb. boneless skinless chicken thighs (I used 4 bone-in chicken quarters and just pulled the skin off and trimmed the fat) 2 Tbsp vegetable oil, more for oiling the grill 3 Tbsp chopped cilantro (1 Tbsp was plenty)
Mix the five-spice powder, 1 Tbsp of the brown sugar, the garlic powder, and the salt in a small bowl. In another small bowl, make the dipping sauce: mix the soy sauce, vinegar, sesame oil, red pepper flakes, and remaining 1 tsp sugar.
Place the chicken in shallow pan, drizzle with the vegetable oil, and toss to coat evenly. Sprinkle the spice mixture over the chicken; toss and rub to coat thoroughly.
Heat the barbecue to medium high for 10 minutes, then take a paper towel soaked in olive oil and lubricate the grill. Put the chicken on the grill and cook uncovered on one side until it has dark grill marks, about 6-7 minutes. Turn and continue to grill until the other side is well marked, another 5-6 minutes. Continue cooking until level of doneness is achieved.
Move the thighs to a serving dish, and drizzle with the soy mixture, then sprinkle with the chopped cilantro and toss to coat.
Corn, Sweet Onion and Zucchini Saute with Cilantro (the recipe called for mint; we replaced it with fresh coriander)
Serves 4 (in reality, it served 2 with a few taste test bites and a bit leftover to mix with salad for next day's lunch)
2 Tbsp unsalted butter 1 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil 1 1/2 cups small diced sweet onion, such as vidalia (I used a sweet tasting white onion from a road side stand) 1 tsp sea salt (I used Paludier's Fleur de Sel de Guerande) 1 1/4 cups small diced zucchini (about 1 medium zucchini) 2 heaping cups of fresh corn kernals (about 4 medium ears of corn) 2 tsp chopped fresh garlic 1/2 scotch bonnet pepper, minced 1/2 tsp ground cumin 1/2 tsp ground coriander 2 to 3 Tbsp chopped mint or cilantro 1/2 lemon Freshly ground black pepper
Melt 1 Tbsp of the butter with the olive oil in a saute pan or Dutch oven over medium low heat. Add the onions and a sprinkle of the salt, cover nad cook, stirring occasionally, until the onions are soft and translucent, about 5 minutes. Uncover, raise the heat to medium, and continue cooking until the onions become light golden, and lose most of their water, about another 3 to 4 minutes. Add the remaining Tbsp of butter and the zucchini. Cook until the zucchini is near-tender. Add the corn, garlic, minced scotch bonnet, and a few pinches of salt. Cook, stirring frequently, scraping the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon (to avoid the starchiness of the corn sticking), for about 3 to 4 minutes. Add the cumin and the coriander and cook, stirring, for about 30 seconds. Remove from heat. Add the cilantro/mint, a good squeeze of the lemon, and a few good grinds of pepper. Let sit for a few minutes and stir again, scraping up the bottom of the pan. Season with more salt, pepper or lemon, to taste. Serve warm.
