FOOD FOR THOUGHT 7 DISHES TO TAKE YOU AROUND THE WORLD
LOVE AT FIRST BITE
A STORY OF RESISTANCE
CLIMATE CHANGE, RACISM, AND FOOD
A plate of Tong Yun at every birthday and Lantern Festival| 04
The role of split pulses in the fight for liberation from Pakistan| 06
Feijoada starting serious conversations in Brazil | 08
GASTRONOMY - THE ART OF GOOD EATS AND HOW THEY RELATE TO OUR CULTURE AND HISTORY Edited by Sunehra Subah, Tafannum Hossin, and Su Su Wai
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04
Tong Yun from China
06
Dal from Bangladesh
08
Feijoada from Brazil
10
Biryani from Bangladesh
13
Dishes from Guyana
16
Mohinga from Burma
18
Grape Leaves from Syria
19
The Henna Project
TONG YUN: A CHINESE DESSERT Written by Jaimie Zhao '20 Photo by Bing Cherrylet
If
you’ve ever chewed gum, you’re familiar with the stickiness of the wintergreen stick, the satisfaction you get when stretching out the gum and working out your jaw. And once that flavor and flexibility is gone, you’re off to spit it out into the trash. Tong Yun is a Chinese dessert that is softer than gum, but similar in its sticky texture. This sticky texture is achieved by mixing boiling water into glutinous rice flour. The resulting dough is then kneaded and rolled into balls, (or sometimes into the shape of a swan!) The sweet dessert is served in syrup that can be made even sweeter by filling the balls with seeds, nuts, or beans. Tong Yun can also be turned into a savory dish, served with meat, mushrooms, and vegetables, in hot broth.
"THE FLAVOR STAYS IN YOUR MIND THROUGHOUT THE DAY LIKE A SWEET, TEASING MEMORY" There are multiple variations of Tong Yun, but they all hold the same meaning. The roundness symbolizes completeness and an abundant life. The stickiness of the food symbolizes family sticking together, as this is often served during the Lantern Festival and Winter Solstice Festival. Both holidays are big celebrations where everyone gathers together for a family dinner. My grandma likes to make Tong Yun on birthdays because it also means (Tian Tian, Mi Mi- full of sweetness and honey). means to have a love-filled year, which is one of the reasons this dessert always puts a smile on my face.
甜甜蜜蜜
甜甜蜜蜜
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Recipe INGREDIENTS Brown Cane Sugar (1 bag is 400g) Glutinous Rice Flour (1 bag is 1 lb and 15 servings) Rice Flour (1 bag is 1 lb and 15 servings) Water
MATERIALS Two pans Bamboo steamer Sifter
DIRECTIONS 1. Mix 2 bags of rice flour with 1 bag of glutinous rice flour or with a mixture that is ⅓ glutinous rice flour and ⅔ rice flour. Sift the flour. 2. Put ¼ of this flour mixture and 2 bags of brown sugar into a pan until it boils. 3. After the sugar and flour boil, take the pan off the stove. Pour this mixture into a new pan. 4. With the remaining ¾ flour mixture you set aside, pour it in intervals into the new pan with the sugar and flour. When the mixture becomes denser, begin kneading it like dough. 5. Roll the dough into balls or swans. 6. To cook the dough, put the balls into a bamboo steamer. The bamboo collects the water so that the dough doesn’t become wet as it steams. Steam it for 10 minutes. The Tong Yun should be a brownish tan color. To check if it’s ready, rip the Tong Yun in half and make sure the color and consistency inside matches the outside. 7. The Tong Yun is ready. Cool it down and enjoy!
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DAL Written by Sunehra Subah '20
When
Photo by Elise Bauer the clock on my oven reads
9:00 PM, plates full of rice, tandoori chicken, and paratha are laid out on a blue mat on the floor. Amongst the dishes littered with blushing-red peppers and lime slices is a small bowl of a watery lentil soup. Even when chicken is switched out for fish or lime for onion, the humble bowl of dal remains in the middle of the blue mat. One night, as the smell of cumin filled the kitchen, I asked my mother why the table was never set without dal. My mother laughed and said it was something to pour over dry rice and dip even drier parathas into. But lifting the ladle of split pulses to her lips, she began to talk about the Bangladesh Liberation War and how, for my family and many others, dal wasn’t only a means to survive, but a symbol of resistance against the Pakistani Army. During the war, the Pakistani President General Yahya Khan is recorded as saying in fury: “Kill three million of them, and the rest will eat out of our hands.” Under his leadership, the army launched their military pacification codenamed Operation Searchlight, with patrols shooting down Bengali fathers, brothers, and sons, and raping Bengali mothers, sisters, and daughters. Despite the massive casualties and ever-present danger of being gunned down by a patrolman, the people in my great-grandfather’s slum in Gram refused to eat out of Khan’s hands, instead collecting lentils in their scarves and bringing pots of water or a few peppers to my greatgrandfather’s home to make a large pot of dal together. Dal became the stone soup, the gumbo, of the war.
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Much of the war was fought over words, with the Bengali people wanting to keep their language instead of being forced to speak Urdu. Dal was a small way for the villagers to say they’d rather celebrate their identity with a handful of mung beans boiled in water, than surrender their Bengali words for tables spilling over with potatoes and vegetables. Sitting in that cumin-smelling kitchen, I was amazed at the history, the culture, the resilience, the life that could be told by a small bowl. Food, with all its colors and savory and sweet bites, could tell of hundreds of struggles and traditions
Recipe INGREDIENTS 1 cup red lentils 1 cup sliced onions 1-2 teaspoons of ground turmeric 3 chopped cloves of garlic 2 green chile peppers 2 cups water Vegetable oil
DIRECTIONS 1. Put 2 cup of water in a saucepan over medium-high heat. Add in the red lentils and chile peppers. 2. Stir in the turmeric and salt, and cook for about 20 minutes. 3. In a separate pan, heat the vegetable oil and add the onions. 4. Stir in the chopped garlic after the onions become a dark brown. 5. Use a spoon to coax the garlic and onions into the red lentils, and cksdyou’re done! Pour over rice or pair with some paratha for breakfast!
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FEIJOADA Written by Daniel Modesto '20 Photo by Taurek Mourad
When
I first started learning Portuguese in sophomore year, I knew that through
learning about infinitives and verb tense, I’d also learn the traditions and customs in Brazilian culture. And what really astonished me–and what made me more fascinated with learning Portuguese–was the food: everything from the truffles made from condensed milk to the rich and grainy açaí berries. Perhaps it was learning Portuguese pronunciation through MasterChef Brazil, but the uniqueness and diversity that Brazilian cuisine represented caught my eye, and my appetite. If I were to choose one dish that exemplified Brazilian cuisine, it would be Brazil’s national dish: feijoada. In Brazil, there are many ethnic groups that reside and live there, from Afro-Brazilians to mixed Brazilians to those of mostly European ancestry. Each group has brought their own ingredients, traditions, and flavors into Brazilian cuisine, marking their history through their food. For example, Afro-Brazilians have introduced yuca and other plants from their countries of origin, while the Indigenous people of Brazil laid the groundwork for Brazilian cuisine, from fishes such as the tucupi to fruits (such as açai). In addition, Europeans (Portuguese, Spanish, French, Italian, German, just to name a few) have also left their mark, with foods either being influenced by those of Europeans (queijo mineiro, pão de queijo) or directly introduced (polenta, bockwurst, churrascos). Food has been a mirror in Brazilian society to illustrate the different groups that have immigrated to Brazil, and left their mark while being assimilated and accepted. The importance of food has also collided with important issues, such as climate change and the need to protect our environment. Nowhere else is this battle being fought as hard as in Brazil, with the Amazon forest covering around 59% of Brazilian territory. As the Brazilian administration under Jair Bolsonaro has favored agribusiness over conservation, many are attempting their own ways to save the environment. The most notable case is in the northeastern state of Bahia, where four municipalities have changed their school
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lunch from “animal protein to plant protein at all public schools.”(McCoy) Spearheaded by a prosecutor named Leticia Biard, it has shaken the community, some of which balked at their meat-eating traditions being tossed away in favor of plants that “was a question of identity. What Serrinha is and what it is not. And this food, with its exotic ingredients and protein alternatives, wasn’t Serrinha (Bahia).”(McCoy)
Unfortunately, this is a delicate case, with cultures clashing with one another. On one side, Leticia Biard represents Southern Brazil, with a heavy European culture, well off and a distinct accent marked by hard r’s. On the other hand, the community of Serrinha represents Northeastern Brazil, with marked African and Indigenous influences, poorer than the rest of Brazil and a lilting cadence in their pronunciation. While both share a love of meat–and feijoada–the battle for more environmentally-friendly food has revealed racial tensions in Brazil that have not been resolved, only ignored or given inadequate attention. Afro-Brazilians face low representation in the media, while the concept of being white automatically correlates to being wealthy, with racial inequalities that develop into larger problems such as favelas, or slums where the majority of residents are mixed and of darker skin. So of course, a white Brazilian from a different area of Brazil telling a mostly mixed, local community to change their food preferences would create an uproar. I mention this because it ties back to the feijoada and the diversity it exhibits. Although eaten by Brazilians, it has local variations that reflect the regional cuisine and ingredients; in the north, it can be eaten with coentro and castanha-do-Pará, while in the south, farinha de mandioca is used as a base. While the fight for environmentally-friendly food showcased the regional differences and racial tensions in Brazil, it can be bridged together through the foods that people grew up with. I think that in order to bridge this gap, there needs to be education through diversity; many regional foods are only known to the regional inhabitants, with those dishes from the North being unknown to many due to isolation from the rest of the country. A push has to be created to learn more about these regional plates, which leads to a conversation in regional diversity and multiculturalism. PAGE 09
A TIN OF BIRYANI Written by Tafannum Hossin '20 Photos by Sanjeev Kapoor and Steve Czerniak
At the mention of food, aunts and uncles, herding their children, had gone over to the table, now violently dishing out spoons and plates. As a witness to this chaos, I stayed near my mother, following her like a lost child. As I entered the next room, I was hit by a heavy and rich aroma of turmeric and cumin. I saw the food laid out in silver aluminum tins, neatly lined up. There were all kinds of dishes–––everything from tandoori to ilish fish–––but one dish in particular never failed to be on every single plate. The tin of biryani was almost finished when someone
came in with another tin filled to the brink. This scene resembled one I was all too familiar with. Whenever my family hosts a Bengali dawat (party), multiple batches of biryani would be prepared. As people ate one bowl of biryani, the other bowls rested on the floor, patiently waiting to be eaten. Biryani is a commonality amongst South Asian households, yet every dish is unique in preparation, ingredients, and taste. Some dishes are littered with saffron and cardamom to give it a strong aroma and unexpected tastes. Others are filled with numerous vegetables or meats overwhelming each other to make it rich and eventful. Some are mild in flavor, straying from the “traditional” preparation of biryani. But each dish is prepared with the same love I’ve seen in the hardworking hands of my mother, bending over a huge pot on the stove while pushing chicken drumsticks, grains of rice, fresh chili peppers, and pods of cardamom with a spoon. Each dish fills up the white flimsy plates resting on the palms of everyone’s hands. Each dish causes my mouth to water and my hunger to be satisfied. I’ve tasted so many different takes on biryani that it's hard to believe that they all stem from one culture. PAGE 10
Despite biryani’s immense popularity in the Indian subcontinent, it is believed to have originated in Persia. Biryani stems from the Persian words birian (fried) and birinj (rice). It’s uncertain as to how the dish arrived in India. There are multiple theories, some suggest the arrival of Arab traders to the coast of India while others attribute it to war campaigns done by Timur, a Turk-Mongol conqueror. This, according to historians, is one of the most plausible stories. Timur, after conquering Persia and surrounding nations, introduced Persian cultures and dishes to India, one of them being biryani. However, the most popular theory states that Mumtaz Mahal, the wife of Shah Jahan, a Mughal Emperor, ordered chefs to combine meat and rice in a dish for malnourished soldiers, creating biryani. Regardless of how biryani was introduced, it quickly grew to be a popular dish in the Indian subcontinent with each of the seven countries having distinct ways of preparing it. India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Bhatan, and the Maldives have different biryanis due to a difference in rice and spices. All these countries, except Bangladesh, typically use basmati rice. In Bangladesh, kalijira rice is more common due to its stronger aroma. Ghee is also a common aspect of Indian biryani recipes due to its popularity in India, whereas it’s less of a staple in other nations. In terms of spices there are small differences. Compared to other nations, Sri Lanka usually depends more on the strong flavor of spices when making biryani. Pakistan uses more whole spices such as black peppercorns, cumin seeds, and cinnamon sticks. However, other regions grind such ingredients into powders. For example, instead of cumin seeds they’ll use cumin seed powder. Since the first introduction of biryani, the Indian subcontinent has faced many more wars and bloody battles on its lands. The Indo-Pakistan War separated India and Pakistan due to their conflict over religion, and the Bangladesh Liberation War separated Pakistan and Bangladesh due to the oppression of Bangladeshi culture and language. Despite these conflicts that have divided and created animosity between our nations, each country shares similar origins and cultures and values. I spend my weekends watching Shahrukh Khan act in Bollywood films, I go to parties wearing embroidered lehengas and anarkalis, and every night at dinner I eat a delicious plate of biryani with tomatoes and lemon wedges on the side. Although every biryani dish tastes slightly different, each dish is flavorful and full of culture. Biryani is not just a dish, it’s a representation of both the diversity and unity of the nations across the Indian subcontinent.
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Recipe INGREDIENTS
Marinade 1.1 pounds chicken 3 tablespoons plain yogurt 1 1/4 tablespoons garlic ginger paste 1/4 teaspoon turmeric 1/2 teaspoon chili powder 1/2 teaspoon garam masala/ biryani masala (found in South Asian shops) 1 tablespoon lemon juice 1/2 teaspoon salt
Biryani 1 bay leaf 4 green cardamons 4 cloves 1 cinnamon stick 3/4 teaspoon cumin powder 2 cups basmati rice 2 tablespoon oil 1 large onion 2 green chili pepper 1/4 cup plain yogurt 1/4 teaspoon red chili pepper 1 teaspoon garam masala 3 cups water 3/4 teaspoon salt
DIRECTIONS
1. Combine the marinade ingredients in a bowl.
2. Make gashes on your chicken and apply the marinade generously. Set it aside for an hour. 3. Rinse the basmati rice three times. Let it soak for 30 minutes. 4. Heat oil in a pot and sauté any whole spices. 5. Add your onions and fry them until they're light brown. 6. Add the chicken and continue to sauté for five minutes. 7. Cover the pot and leave the stove at low heat until the chicken becomes tender. 8. After all moisture is gone add yogurt, green chili pepper, red chili powder, and garam masala. 9. Add in the rice, water, and salt. 10.Cover the pot and continue to cook the biryani at low heat until the rice is cooked through. 11. Mix the rice and chicken in the pot and enjoy your chicken biryani! RECIPE: https://www.indianhealthyrecipes.com/chicken-biryani-recipe/
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GUYANESE CUSINE Written by Shivanie Patrium Photo by Alicia, Imma, and Gimlette J.
Guyanese
cuisine is very rich and culturally diverse, reflecting the
ethnic makeup, history, and religion of the country. Afro-Guyanese, Creoles, East Indians, Portuguese, Amerindians, Chinese, and Europeans are all groups that compose the population of the country. As a result, there has been a blend of a multitude of dishes made from different meats (chicken, goat, duck, lamb), seafood (gilbaka, hassa, tilapia), vegetables, or provisions, (okra, baigan/eggplant, bora/green bean, plantain, katahar, aloo/potato, cassava, eddoe), and seasonings. Adaptations of meals from other countries have been made to cater to Guyanese preferences as well, including pastries (pine tart, cheese roll, chinese cake), fried chicken, chowmein, patties, fried rice, etc. Many of the different sweets that are made can also be used in religious ceremonies, such as during Hindu holidays or functions. Parsad, tamarind, pera, jalebi, gulab jamun, mithai, lapsi and puri, sweet rice, sugar cake, etc., are but a few out of the many desserts that are typically offered to god in these ceremonies, before being shared out and consumed. They are made over the stove, and consist of ingredients such as milk, ghee (a kind of oil from cows), condensed milk, sugar, coconut milk, etc. Bara, pholourie, chicken foot with pepper sauce (note: not actually chicken feet), channa, roth, potato ball, cassava ball, eggball, etc., are also some of the snacks consumed by the Guyanese. They consist of chickpeas, spices, vegetables, egg, etc., and can be purchased at a store or homemade. All these different components are what makes Guyana unique in a cultural sense, guaranteeing anyone the delight of having a satisfied and full stomach after a hearty meal. Here are some of the diverse dishes made by the Guyanese:
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Cookup Rice This is a relatively simple dish generally made from rice, black-eyed peas, and beans. It’s made in one pot, and can have other ingredients added to it, such as chicken, bhaji/spinach, cassava, etc.
Pepperpot This dish is typically served on Christmas or New Years, and is one of Guyana’s national meals. It’s a stew that was derived from the Amerindians, and consists of any kind of meat, cassareep (cassava extract), spices, and seasonings. Pepperpot is usually a bit sweet and spicy, and can be eaten with Guyana bread or roti (a type of flatbread).
Bake and Saltfish Bake is a deep-fried bread that can be a little sweet. It can be eaten with saltfish that’s been friend with tomatoes and peppers. It can also be eaten with diced potatoes and is usually consumed for breakfast. The saltfish or potatoes can either be stuffed within the bake itself, or eaten by breaking off pieces of the bread and scooping up a bit of the saltfish with it.
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Boil and Fry This dish is typically made with cassava, potato, eddoe, sweet plantains, and tomatoes. Like the name suggests, the vegetables are boiled, then fried with onions and spices. It can be paired with stewed fish, and eaten with duff (a sort of large, fluffy dumpling). The meal is often made for lunch and dinner, but can be eaten as breakfast as well.
Black Cake Though it may look like chocolate cake, black cake is actually a classic Caribbean rum-soaked fruit cake. The fruits can be prepared and soaked in rum or wine days, or even weeks in advance to intensify the flavor, then added to a cake mixture. It’s often made during parties, such as Christmas Eve or New Years. Any party you go to, there is guaranteed to be black cake.
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MOHINGA: THE UNOFFICIAL BURMESE BREAKFAST DISH Written by Su Su Wai Photo by Russ Crandall
I
remember the morning strolls my father and I used to have along the crowded streets of
Yangon. Adorned with traditional longyis, we would escape the sweltering heat of the afternoon by passing tea shops featuring porcelain cups that were filled with steaming laphet yay and street vendors who hollered out discounts on samosas and meat skewers. Still, despite the multitude of dishes available, we would always head straight to Myaung Mya Daw Cho, a nearby restaurant that was located along Anawrahta Road. There, with our thoroughly famished stomachs, we would order two heaping bowls of mohinga, a hardy fish stew served bouncing with vermicelli, layered with ground chickpeas, and coated with dried catfish powder. Topped with garnishes ranging from hard-boiled eggs to fried crullers and chickpea fritters, this dish had long been regarded as a tradition between me and my father. Still, mohinga is not merely an obscure dish that my father and I had coincidentally stumbled upon —in fact, to a nation that had been ransacked by intergroup conflicts and civil war, this dish is regarded as a tribute to our cultural heritage. Following the Anglo-Burmese Wars, the Treaty of Yandabo was ratified, enabling the total annexation of Burma to the British, who had viewed the nation as a potential market to facilitate lucrative trade opportunities with China. Yet, when the British designated Burma as a province of India in 1886 and encouraged immigrants to fill civil-service occupations, resentment against the British. PAGE 16
Despite this victory, Burma’s initiation into statehood has been chaotic. From the assasination of Aung San to the internal conflicts that erupted among the 135 ethnic groups, it took decades for Burma to recover economically from such political turmoil. However, regardless of Burma’s turbulent history, one thing has remained constant: mohinga. Popularized as “the working class meal” in the late nineteenth century, it remained a staple of Burmese cuisine during the postWorld War II Japanese occupation as well as the subsequent period of independence. Even following the coup d’état in 1962, mohinga street vendors remained one of the only entrepreneurs allowed to operate under the military regime. As a result, due to its appeal for workers living paycheck-to-paycheck, mohinga transformed from a mere traditional meal to the unofficial breakfast dish of Burma. For many tourists, mohinga is merely a flavorful noodle dish they try as they stroll along the streets of Yangon. But to my family and our 54 million neighbors, mohinga serves as a testament to our unity as a state. Even amidst the hardships we faced through British colonialism, the Japanese occupation, and the dictatorship of the military regime, our ancestors have continued to slurp on these noodles. By continuing their tradition, we have chosen to honor their legacy, while celebrating our own identities.
Recipe INGREDIENTS
Broth 3 quarts water 3 stalks lemongrass, cut into 3-inch pieces 1 2-ounce piece ginger (unpeeled), thickly sliced crosswise into slabs 5 bay leaves 1 1/2 teaspoons ground black pepper 1/2 teaspoon ground white pepper 2 teaspoons salt1 scaled and gutted catfish (about 3 pounds)
Soup 1/3 cup vegetable oil 1 stalk lemongrass, minced 1/4 cup minced garlic 3 tablespoons minced ginger 1 tablespoon paprika 1 teaspoon turmeric 2 red onions, diced into 1/2-inch pieces (about 3 1/2 cups) 1/4 cup fish sauce 1 tablespoon salt 10 ounces fine round rice noodles
RECIPE CONTINUED: https://www.foodrepublic.com/recipes/make-classic-mohinga/
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GRAPE LEAVES Written by Lena Khosrof '20 Dolma, warak enab, yabra -- three different names for a dish shared by many ethnic regions: grape leaves. Grape leaves are exactly what they sound like; they’re a stuffing wrapped with the leaves that grow along grape vines. Originating in the Middle East and Mediterranean regions, they’re particularly popular in countries like Syria, Egypt, Iraq, Turkey, Greece, and elsewhere. Where I’m from, we call this dish “yabra,” the Syrian word for grape leaves. Growing up, grape leaves, rice, and ground lamb (the ingredients for yabra) were staples in my family’s kitchen. In many Arab kitchens, cooking is a communal activity that unites families and strengthens bonds within a community. I remember sitting in my family’s Syrian kitchen in my city of Homs, wrapping a fresh leaf around a mixture of rice and ground lamb beside my father’s six sisters. My grandfather invited our neighbors to eat with us, and we all savored the flavor of my favorite dish. Till this day, even though Syria is ravaged by war, dishes like yabra continue to unite the Syrian community in the face of immense adversities. It replenishes our relationships with the people around us, rejuvenates our bodies and our strength, nurtures our connection to our country, and fosters a hope for a brighter future within us.
Recipe
INGREDIENTS
1 cup uncooked rice 2 pounds ground lamb 2 (16 ounce) jars of grape leaves, drained and rinsed 1 teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon black pepper 1 tablespoon ground allspice 6 cloves garlic, sliced 1 cup lemon juice
1. Soak rice in cold water, and drain. In a large bowl, mix together the ground lamb, rice, allspice, salt and pepper until well blended. Place about 1 tablespoon of the meat mixture onto the center of each leaf. Fold the leaf over once, turn in the edges on each side, and then roll the leaf closed. 2. Stack the leaf-rolls in a large pot, covering each layer with slices of garlic. Add just enough water to cover the rolls, then pour in the lemon juice. Add the olives to the pot for flavoring, if desired. Place a plate on top of the rolls to keep them under water. 3. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat, cover and simmer for 1 hour and 15 minutes. Taste the rice for doneness. Grape leaves taste even better after sitting for several hours. PAGE 18 Serve and enjoy.
THE HENNA PROJECT Written by Souad Hassan and Jaimie Zhao '20 Photo by Deepk Creation
The Henna Project is a mission created by us as an outreach for poverty-stricken and war-torn countries. Our first destination is Yemen, which is in clear and present danger of famine due to the impacts of the Yemeni Civil War.
AN ESTIMATED 10 MILLION PEOPLE WERE EXPECTED TO STARVE BY THE END OF 2019
rendering orphans, families, and the community grief-stricken. That insurmountable number is more than enough for a desperate cry for help. Our goal is to supply these communities with food, send school supplies to children, and repair the state the country is in with our voices and aid. At culture and school fairs, we set up a booth to do people’s henna, painting their hands with spiraling patterns, while educating them about this tragedy and why we need their help. For more information on how you can be active in this urgent conversation, contact us through Facebook or email.
@OFFICIALHENNAPROJECT
@OFFICIAL_H.E.N.N.A
HENNAPROJECT10@GMAIL.COM PAGE 19
FRE SHAVACA DO