Yuca (cassava) is a starchy, tuberous root that originated in South America, most likely Brazil, and has probably been cultivated for 12,000 years. Today, Africa consumes the most yuca, with Nigeria being the world’s largest producer of the root. When dried, it becomes tapioca. Quite a handy root, eh?
The easiest (and possibly tastiest) way to prepare a yuca root is dead simple: all it takes is a quick boil and a little time with some quality coconut oil.
One of our favorite occasional indulgences is Chinese dim sum, and one of my favorite dim sum dishes is spare ribs with black beans. In Asia, black beans (douchi) aren’t the same black beans you get at Chipotle; they’re actually a fermented and salted version of soy beans. This recipe is basically my take on this dish but without the beans.
Part of this dish’s unique taste is the combination of sweet and salty with a subtle fermented twinge – in order to pull this signature fermented taste off, I added dashes of oyster sauce and fish sauce, and it came out beautifully.
NOTE: An updated version of this recipe appears in my cookbook, The Ancestral Table.
Rogan Josh is a popular Kashmiri dish that is believed to have originated in Persia before making its way to Northern India and beyond (in Persian, “rogan” means clarified butter and “josh” means hot or passionate). Its signature red color is historically the result of mild red Kashmiri chiles which were used in making this dish. Over the years, many restaurants started using tomatoes in the dish to bring about that red color easily. My recipe follows the more modern interpretation of the dish, mostly because you and I don’t have the money to travel to Kashmir for some chiles! Well, maybe you do, but I most certainly do not.
An excellent cut of lamb for this dish was the other half of Lava Lake Lamb’s beautiful lamb shoulder (the other half was used to make shashlik). This slightly-fatty cut imparted a ton of flavor into the dish, which just tasted better and better the longer it simmered.
I’m also happy to announce that this is my first recipe that features a printer-friendly version! I’ll be sure to do this with every recipe from now on, and as I get the spare time I will go back and make printer-friendly versions of all my recipes.
As summer hits (it’s 102 degrees as I type this!), no one’s really in the mood to cook an extravagant creation. I get that. That’s why I have simple, easy recipes like my little eggplant pizzas to get through the scorching days. There’s not a whole lot to this recipe, but it’s the perfect little distraction that seems to be most appealing when we don’t want to spend a lot of time in the kitchen.
In general I don’t like using the oven while it’s hot out, but these little babies cook up relatively fast so I don’t mind them so much.
NOTE: An updated version of this recipe appears in my cookbook, The Ancestral Table.
Cabbage rolls are found all over Europe, Asia, and the Middle East. They are staple dishes in Croatia, Poland, Ukraine, Russia, and Sweden; in Russia, they’re called голубцы (golubtsy) and make regular dinnertime appearances in most homes.
There is some controversy over the origin of the dish. One common theory is based on its name, which could be linked to the word Russian word for pigeons (голуби). Russian cuisine and culture was heavily influenced by the French in the 17th and 18th centuries, and these stuffed cabbage rolls could be an attempt to recreate roasted pigeons, a popular French dish at the time.
Let’s talk about corn a little bit. Although it’s a grain, it is considered moderately safe depending on individual tolerance, so this year our family has decided to try and re-introduce it into our diet. We don’t plan on eating corn that often (heck, I mentioned that I was going to eat corn six months ago and I’m just now getting around to it), but we like the idea of adding a little variety to our eating habits. Mainly, we plan on eating it in the form of tortillas, popcorn, and these little pieces of heaven you see in this recipe: arepas.
Arepas are corn cakes that are popular in Venezuela, Colombia, and other parts of Latin and South America. They couldn’t be simpler to make – ground corn, water, and salt – but they bring a unique texture to other foods. Something about the crispy outside and slightly-mushy inside make them the perfect little sandwich pockets. It’s hard to describe, but they have a density and feel not unlike buttermilk biscuits, but a little grittier.
NOTE: An updated version of this recipe appears in my cookbook, The Ancestral Table.
You know what doesn’t get enough credit? White rice. It helps feed a large portion of the world, and is a relatively safe starch. Sure, it doesn’t have a lot of nutritional value, but it can easily become a vessel for other nutrients. Enter my Mexican rice recipe, which is chock-full of tasty and healthy stuff like grass-fed butter/ghee, tomato sauce, and homemade chicken stock.
Although it’s often called “Spanish rice” here in the US as well Mexican rice, no such thing exists in Spain. I’ve been making this side dish for several years, well before switching my diet. For this dish I like to simulate your standard Mexican restaurant rice – tangy, slightly salty, and with a tiny hint of chicken thanks to its use of broth/stock.
There’s an old saying: lamb is a meat best grilled. Okay, that may not be an old saying, but it should be. Something about lamb and direct heat go together really, really well. So when Lava Lake Lamb sent me some of their lamb sirloin for a recipe, I knew it was going directly on the grill.
This recipe uses a simple marinade that combines maple syrup and spicy brown mustard to complement the lamb’s natural deliciousness.
NOTE: An updated version of this recipe appears in my cookbook, The Ancestral Table.
Pho, often considered the national dish of Vietnam, is a rice noodle dish that uses a beef bone broth. It’s hard to describe the basic, yet complex taste that comes from this unique mix of broth, beef, spices and herbs – I recommend just going to your local pho joint and trying it for yourself. You’ll be hooked. I had my first bowl right after moving to Hawaii in 2001, and ever since then I’ve been slightly obsessed with figuring it how to make it at home. After several dozen ho-hum attempts I finally settled on this, which I consider my definitive, recipe.
This dish emerged from Hanoi in the early 20th century, and was brought to the US in the 1970s by refugees after the fall of Saigon. The inclusion of beef in the dish is reflective of its French influence; prior to French colonialism, cows in Vietnam were mainly used for labor and not as a food source. I’ve read a few different histories of the word “phở” itself, and my favorite is that it came from the French word “feu” (fire), and that pho itself is Vietnam’s take on the popular French beef stew, pot au feu.
NOTE: An updated version of this recipe appears in my cookbook, The Ancestral Table.
We don’t eat fried foods that often, but every once in a while I get a craving for something crispy and crunchy. So I set out to make a gluten-free, Paleo-friendly Southern Fried Chicken. Bear in mind that this isn’t a smart choice for your everyday meals, but it’s a great way to change things up every once in a while.
The creation of Southern Fried Chicken is the result of several different influences: fried chicken was a West African delicacy brought over to the US by slaves, the mass-production of pork in the South made lard readily available, and the popularity of cast iron cookware in the 19th century created the fried chicken we now associate with the South. I kept my recipe true to those historical precedents, including the use of buttermilk as a marinade. If you’re dairy-free, omitting the buttermilk marinade will still leave you with a pretty tasty fried chicken.
The Domestic Man 