Metemgee


























                        Today is a Sunday making it the perfect day to make Metemgee, a hearty Creole stew from Guyana, eaten on Sundays with family. My friend Dillon's family is from Guyana and his mom Elizabeth was kind enough to teach me how to make it this afternoon. Metemgee is known to be a satisfying and nutritious meal containing starchy root vegetables rich in a variety of vitamins and minerals. Elizabeth also learned how to make this from her mother, just like she has learned to cook most Guyanese dishes. Guyanese cuisine reflects the many cultural influences that have been integrated into the country over time. Although it is part of mainland South America, it is also considered part of the Caribbean. Elizabeth tells me that it was colonized by the British, only gaining independence in the 70's. African, Indian, Latin American, Chinese and indigenous flavors are present in different Guyanese dishes. It mostly features tropical ingredients but I'm surprised to hear that dairy is heavily used, especially in pastries. Due to the immigration of Indians to Guyana, Elizabeth knows quite a bit about different regional Indian cuisines, revealing that she was even a saree model back home. She misses Guyana a great deal but tells me that it has become corrupt since leaving. She hasn't been back since she married Dillon's father. "I think I'd like to go back once someday."

















Elizabeth explained to me how Metemgee originated as an African slave dish made from root vegetables which they call provisions. It starts with a base of coconut milk and contains cassava (yuca), sweet potatoes, yams, yellow yams, plantains, eddo (taro), and a variety of gourd found in the West Indies.  She tells me that the recipe can be made with other vegetables like okra or tomatoes but she likes to add spinach to hers. Dumplings called duff are also added, making the stew even more filling. Usually Metemgee contains salt fish or beef, but Elizabeth is a vegan and makes it without.


We get started in the kitchen by peeling and cubing the starchy vegetables. The cassava and plantains must be slit open with a knife and peeled by hand while the pumpkin must be hacked open and have its flesh cut out. The rest can be peeled using a peeler. I ask Elizabeth about being able to find Guyanese food and  ingredients in The Valley. "There's only one Guyanese restaurant that I've been to and it was pretty Americanized. There are very few Guyanese or even Caribbean markets that I know of. I'm don't get anything imported from Guyana since it's less fresh, but I make do. I find a lot of things from Lee Lee's International Supermarket or Mekong Plaza." She generally has to make some substitutions in her Guyanese dishes using the ingredients available to her. The variety of gourd typically used in Guyana called calabaza is not readily available in the United States, so Elizabeth substitutes kabocha, a squash often used in Korean and Japanese cooking. She also must get frozen wiri wiri peppers which are not found in stores here, from relatives who are visiting.







We soak the vegetables in water to remove any dirt. Despite containing mostly starchy vegetables, the variety means that it contains high amounts of key nutrients like vitamins A, C, K, B complex, magnesium, iron, and potassium. Elizabeth tells me how when she came here, she noticed how nothing is as fresh as it was back in Guyana. "Everything is covered in cheese here." She talks about some of the things she has learned from the Permaculture class she is taking. "People don't know where their food comes from. A lot of things are genetically modified or not organic. I always smell and feel my produce to see if it's fresh and organic- it's easy to tell. And I read all the labels even if people think it's unusual."













Elizabeth believes in eating as fresh as possible. "Everyone here puts their fruits and vegetables in the fridge so they last longer. I wasn't used to that coming here. The fresher it is, the better it tastes and the better it is for you." While she could very well use cans of coconut milk, she prefers to make it herself, the old-fashioned way. Although in Guyana, it would have been more labor intensive requiring that the coconut be grated by hand. Instead, Elizabeth cuts the flesh out of a coconut she has hacked open and blends it to a pulp in a blender along with water.

















She lets me do the honors of squeezing the milk out of the pulp by placing it in a strainer over the pot of boiling water and buillon. Mostly squirting the milk all over the place and into my eye, I keep squeezing and squeezing until all of the milk is out into the pot and the pulp is fairly dry. But Elizabeth puts the pulp back into the blender with more water and surely enough we are able to squeeze out even more coconut milk. She describes all the other desserts you can make from the leftover pulp such as goja with added sugar and spices or pone made with cassava.















We add the garlic, onions, peppers and scallions to the pot, reserving the shallots for the end. Elizabeth tells me that you can season the dish however you want but she uses salt, pepper, thyme, and Mrs. Dash. After that, she adds all the root vegetables except for the plantains and yellow yams and simmers on medium heat, covered. While it cooks, I ask her about the other things she likes to cook. "I don't just make Guyanese food. I really like to experiment in the kitchen with all types of food. And I like to see how I can turn something vegan." I find out she's even writing her own cookbook. It's clear she is passionate about food and takes pride in her cooking knowledge.












                                                                                                                                                                I am told the key to preparing Metemgee making sure all the vegetables are evenly cooked despite their different densities and cooking times. While one can simply let the vegetable fall apart, Elizabeth likes to taste the individual vegetables. She takes out some pieces of taro and sweet potato that are getting too soft and sets them aside. Then she adds the plantains and yellow yam, covering the pot again. She checks in on the status of her vegetables every so often and finally adds some of vegetables she took out back in.














Finally, once the Metemgee is nice and thick, she adds in spinach, parsley and shallots and turns off the heat. While we were waiting for the vegetables in the Metemgee to cook through, we made the duff (dumplings) to be served with the stew.























   

We cut vegan butter (Earthbalance)  into all purpose flour, baking powder, sugar, and nutmeg. Then we add warmed coconut milk until a dough formed. After rolling the dough into a dozen dumplings with the palms of our hands, Elizabeth shows me how she steams them in a shallow pot filled with a little bit of simmering water, covered. We watch the little dumplings rise and plump up, and in about 10 minutes, we remove them. Frying them with scallions once they are cooked is optional, but added crispiness and flavor is always a good thing. Now the dumplings are ready to be served over a few steaming ladles of Metemgee.

















It's 7 pm and it's finally time to eat. My stomach grumbling during the whole cooking process, I cannot convey how much this meal hit the spot. I can feel myself getting fuller and fuller but I don't put my spoon down until it's all gone. It' delicious. The dish is extremely comforting and has a wonderful balance of flavors with sweetness coming from the plantains and spicy from the peppers.  I will definitely try to make this at home some time but I know it will never compare to the Metemgee that Elizabeth has made. I had so much fun and learned so much cooking with her, and I hope I get invited back to their house to cook some more.

Metemgee
1 sweet potato
1 yam
1 yellow yam
1 half eddo (taro)
2 yucca root (cassava)
2 plantains
1/4 kabocha squash
1 coconut
3 oz spinach
1 onion, chopped
1 shallot, sliced
4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
3 scallions, thinly sliced
2-3 wiri wiri (cherry) peppers, finely chopped
1 cube vegetable buillon
Handful of parsley

1. Start by removing the skin of the root vegetables, plantains and pumpkin. Cut each vegetable into similar 1.5 inch sized cubes and soak in water to remove dirt.
2. In a large stock pot, boil 1 quart of water with a cube of vegetable buillon
3. Cut coconut open and remove water. Using a knife, remove the flesh and place in a blender with water. Blend until a completely mushy meal forms. Place the coconut in a strainer and squeeze out the milk by hand directly in to the pot of boiling water. Return the pulp to the blender with more water and squeeze again to get even more milk.
4. Add the onions, garlic, scallions, and peppers to the pot along with salt, pepper, thyme, and any other desired spices
5. Add all starchy vegetables except for the plantains, yellow yam, and boil covered.
6. When the root vegetables are half way done, add in the yellow yam and after a few minutes, add the plantains as well. Continue to boil covered, checking on the softness of each vegetables. Remove any vegetables that are becoming mushy to add back in later.
7. Let the stew thicken and once all vegetables are properly cooked, add in the shallots, spinach, chopped parsley and stir.
8. Serve hot with dumplings

Dumplings
1/2 cup flour
2 slices of non-dairy butter such as Earthbalance
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp sugar
Dash of nutmeg
1 cup warmed coconut milk

1. In a mixing bowl, cut the butter into the flour and then add all the dry ingredients. Mix together.
2. Add coconut milk little by little until a dough is formed. Kneed into a ball.
3. Roll dough into roughly a dozen balls
4. In a pot filled with shallow boiling water, steam the dumplings covered for 8-10 minutes or until they become plump. Remove and drain excess water in a colander and
5. Heat 1 tbsp oil in a skillet and fry dumpling with chopped scallions until slightly brown and crispy.
























Doenjang Jjigae
























Today, me and my friend Sky's mom, Helen made Doenjang Jjigae, a popular Korean stew featuring doenjang, a fermented soy bean paste, vegetables, and tofu (jjigae means stew). Traditionally this dish is contains anchovies and beef, but Helen leaves them out for Sky who is vegan. She tells me that this is a family meal made almost every other night in many Korean homes since it's such a complete and nourishing meal. Helen grew up learning to make Doenjang Jjigae from her mother and now cooks it for her own family. Helen's immigration journey is quite a story, having lived in Guatemala, Puerto Rico, and then moving to Pennsylvania before coming to live in Arizona. Her initial experience impression of the food in the United States was based off of living in the small town of Lebanon, PA. "I couldn't find any Korean restaurants but I was able to find things like potatoes and bean sprouts at most supermarkets. So I was able to cook my own Korean style food. But my church friends and I would  go down to Philadelphia once in a while to stock up on Korean groceries since there are is a big Korean market and a lot of restaurants"













This is doenjang (which translates to "thick paste") which can be purchased at most Asian supermarkets. I'm told that many Korean families make a big vat of doenjang once a year at home to be used throughout the year. Doenjang is rich in cancer-fighting micronutrients and flavanoids and contains lysine, an essential amino acid lacking in rice. I ask Helen how easy it is to find the same ingredients used in Korea here. "In Phoenix I can pretty much get everything at Lee Lee's or Asiana market. But what I miss from Korea is my mom's  and grandma's food. The Korean restaurants here are not that good either but it's what we have. Although I like Hidori on Dobson and Southern and Chodang in Chandler."













Helen chops a small zucchini, a yukon gold potato, shitake mushrooms,  jalapeno, tofu and a baby cabbage similar to bok choy. In Korea other chili peppers are used but in the US, Korean immigrants prefer the flavor of jalapenos. She also includes daikon, a white radish commonly used in East Asian cooking. It's not an integral part of Doenjang Jiggae but adds a nice bite. "It's hard to find a lot of the same vegetables we use in Korean, so we just use similar ones. In the Spring when I was a little girl, my neighborhood friends and I would go up a small mountain and pick many vegetables which would be made into a stews and soups. And you can only get  them during March and and the first two weeks in April. I asked my mom to steam and freeze the vegetables when they were in season so I can take them back when I visit."

























In Korea, ceramic and stone earthenware like ddukbaegi and dolsot are the cooking pots of choice for stews and rice dishes since they retain heat so well. Helen mixes the vegetables with the doenjang in a ddukbaegi, leaving out the tofu, zucchini, and jalapeno to add later on. Usually one adds a broth of anchovies and dashima, a dried sheet of seaweed but she just adds three cups of water and turns the heat on high.  Sky likes her jjigae spicy, so Helen adds a glob of gochujang, a fermented pepper paste. After 5 minutes of boiling, she adds the tofu, zucchini, and jalapeno, boiling for another 5 minutes.While it's cooking, I asked her if she ate any American food upon moving here and what she thought of it. "Well I married an American man so I just learned American cooking everyday by watching the Cooking Channel, Martha Stewart, Rachel Ray, and Ina Garten. Then I would print out the recipes to have on file. My husband likes my lasagna, meatloaf, eggplant and chicken parmesan. When we go to the Olive Garden he tells me that my food is better. Learning how to cook American food everyday, I thought about becoming a chef. But then I had Sky's sister and we moved to Washington state for my husband's new job."


As the stew boils vigorously, Helen skims off excess foam from the pot and throws it in the sink. Once all the vegetables are cooked through, she adds sliced green onion and turns the heat off.













Instead of eating the stew with white rice, Sky's family and many other Koreans eat it with forbidden rice because it's so much more nutritious and has a nice nutty flavor. Of course it can be eaten with white rice as well.













Korean cuisine is known for serving small side dishes called banchan alongside its meals. There's a huge variety of possible banchan but Americans know kimchi, fermented cabbage the best. Helen brought spinach and bean sprout banchan, which fall under the category of namul, vegetables marinated in various seasonings. Both of these contain sesame oil,  sesame seed,  garlic, and green onion with a little soy sauce added to the spinach.



















Doenjang Jjigae
3 cups water or traditional seaweed broth
1 1/2 tbsp doenjang (soybean paste)- more or less according to taste
1 small potato, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
1/2 zucchini Squash, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
4-5 shitake mushrooms, sliced
1/2 cup daikon
1/2 cup baby bok choy
1 jalapeno pepper, cut into small pieces
1 tsp gojuchang (chile paste)- optional
1/2 package(7 oz) tofu, cut into 1 inch slices
1 tbsp green onion, chopped

1. In a clay pot, mix all potato, mushrooms, daikon, and bok choy with soybean paste. Add 3 cups of water and boil for 5 minutes. If desired, add gochujang to taste.
2. Add zucchini, jalapeno, and tofu, and boil for another 5 minutes, skimming excess foam off.
3. Lastly, turn the stove off and add the green onion. Serve with a side of wild rice and banchan.

Spinach Banchan
1 lb spinach
1 tbsp soy sauce
1 tbsp sesame oil
1 tsp Sesame seeds
2 tsp minced garlic
1 chopped green onion
1/2 tsp salt

1. Rinse spinach thoroughly. Blanch spinach for 30 seconds in a large boiling pot of water with salt and immediately place in an ice bath to stop the cooking. Drain and squeeze to remove as much water as possible.
2. Toss spinach with soy sauce, sesame oil, sesame seeds, garlic, and green onion by hand.
3. Serve as a side dish  

Bean sprout Banchan
1 lb bean sprouts
2 tsp sesame oil
1 tsp toasted sesame seeds
2 tsp minced garlic
1 chopped green onion
1/2 tsp salt

1. Boil bean sprouts in 1/2 cup of water and salt for 10 minutes.
2. Drain and toss with sesame oil, seeds, garlic and green onion by hand.
3. Serve as a side dish
















Dudhi Chana Shaak



























It's another Sunday and I'm back in Chandler visiting my parents. Throughout my childhood, I would beg my mom, Shilpa, to teach me to cook or at the very least let me help her in the kitchen. But as a working mother, more often then not my eager presence was more of a nuisance while she was cooking dinner for the family. Now in college I try to recreate some of the recipes I watched her make at home, but I always need to call her on the phone for guidance. My family is from India, my dad immigrating here for better education and job opportunity and my mom following him from Mumbai after their marriage in 1988. India, a subcontinent with over 300 living languages has very distinctive ethnic groups, each with their own food, clothing, mannerisms, and traditions. Despite a long history of complex migration patterns and cultural influences, people still tend to marry within their own ethnic group, so I am Gujarati through and through. During my childhood my mother would cook Gujarati food almost every other day since it was considered the healthiest and was the most loved by my parents. The rest of the week was non-Gujarati Indian food, thought to be a step up by me and my sister, and once or twice a week we would eat non-Indian food, a treat my sister and I awaited eagerly. But having grown older, I regret not having fully learned the unique knowledge and skill my mother always had in the kitchen. For once I convinced my mom to really teach me her secrets, so today we made Dudhi Chana Shaak together, a meal we ate at home growing up.
















Dudhi is the Gujarati word for bottle gourd, which literally translates to "milky", although it is known as lauki in Hindi. Chana always refers to some kind of legume, pea, or pulse. In this case the chana used is yellow split peas. Shaak is the Gujarati term for any cooked vegetable dish, of which there are at least a hundred. Gujarati cuisine is almost always vegetarian due to the influences of Jainism and Hinduism in the region and therefore contains lots of legumes and vegetables. It also tends to be on the sweeter side since either sugar or jaggery are added to many dishes. Gujarati food definitely has a unique flavor profile that sets it apart from the cooking of other regions in Indian and I think that may be the reason that it never gained popularity in the United States and never appealed to my Americanized taste buds either. But having grown more mature taste buds, I can now appreciate more of the foods that I initially rejected as a child. Dudhi chana is one of those dishes that everyone likes and I'm glad that I now know how to make it.













The entire dish is only comprised of two main ingredients, but of course it's the aromatics that make something so simple taste amazing. From my mother's masala dabba we are using mustard seeds (rai), turmeric (hardar), cumin-coriander (dhana jeeru), and chili powder (lal marchu). For extra spice, she uses a serrano chili pepper. We will also need curry leaves and since my mom is lucky enough to have a curry plant (kari patta), we have fresh ones. For tartness we use kokum, a dried fruit that gives Gujarati and South Indian dishes a distinctive pucker similar to tamarind, as well as lemon juice (although lime is traditional). We also a bit of sugar to balance out the sour taste and give it a typical Gujarati sweetness. And as always, salt to taste.













Since my mom didn't get the chance to soak the chana for 6 hours like she usually does, she puts the chana in a pressure cooker with 1 and 1/2 cups of water on medium heat for 15 minutes. The dudhi, chana, and all of the spices may be hard to find in mainstream supermarkets but can always be found at your local Indian grocery store. My mom is able to find everything she needs for Indian cooking from Asian grocery stores like Lee Lee's and small shops like Ashoka Indian Groceries for more specific ingredients. I asked her what she thought about grocery stores when she first came here. "I missed the freshness and quality of vegetables in India and certain things that aren't available here. But there's also a lot of produce that I like here that's not available in India. I also think the hygiene is better here and you can worry less about getting sick. One thing I wasn't used to seeing was butchers cutting up meat in front of me."










While the chana is cooking separately, my mom shows me the appropriate size cubes to cut the dudhi into. Then she heats a few table spoons of olive oil and once it gets hot enough, adds the mustard seeds. It's key that the oil is hot so that the mustard seeds pop, but be sure not to stand too close and get burned by sputtering oil. We then add the curry leaves, chili and dudhi and saute them for 5 minutes. I ask my mom how hard it was to cook Indian food when she first came here. "It's easier now than it was before. I used to have to stock up on spices when we went to India or had relatives visiting. There's a lot more availability here nowadays" Another difference is that most middle and upper income families in India hire servants who help with cooking prep work among other things. "I started using more shortcuts and substitutions, like using frozen and canned vegetables instead of fresh ones since it's a lot more time consuming to do it all yourself."













Now that it's been 15 minutes, we check on the chana. It should be thoroughly cooked, almost mushy. We add the chana (with the water it was cooked in) to the dudhi along with the kokum. Then a few minutes later we add the turmeric, chili powder, and cumin-coriander, sugar, and salt. We stir everything and simmer covered for 15 minutes. In the meantime I ask what she thought about American food upon immigrating to Arizona. "When I first came here, there were a lot fewer vegetarian options than there are now. While I noticed that there was a huge selection of food here, I found it so limited in its variety of vegetarian food especially compared to each regional Indian cuisine. For that reason, I've never tried what is considered 'American' food. But I really liked Mexican food as a change from eating Indian food because it's flavorful and full of spices. In general other ethnic restaurants appealed to me a lot more rather than typical American food. I also noticed how the portions here are super-sized compared to servings in India." I wondered what influence my sister and had on her taste in food. "You both loved Indian food when you were very little. But as you grew up you wanted more spaghetti and quesadillas and pizza. I think it was the melted cheese that was appealing to you. So sometimes I would cook something separate for you. But because of that I started cooking more non-Indian food when you both grew older which was really fun and interesting. I liked trying to make these new foods on my own. Just by living here I've become a lot more open to trying new foods. Things I never heard of before like artichokes and avocados I now enjoy immensely. And I think that I would get bored eating only Gujarati food every single day" I ask her what she thinks about Indian food here in Arizona "There' a huge increase in the number of Indian restaurants locally but they're still only limited to North and South Indian food. There are still no Gujarati restaurants in Phoenix. There's more interest in eating Indian food among non-Indians and more ready made Indian foods in grocery stores, but still not much ethnic variety. But I think you can find more variety in bigger cities in places like California."













After 15 minutes, we add 1/2 cup of chopped tomato to cook for another 5 minutes. Finally I add two good squeezes of lemon juice and top with chopped cilantro to finish it off. Even though the shaak is finished, we still need to make the bread to eat it with. You could eat this with rice or rotli (also known as rotis or chapatis) but thepla is the bread usually eaten with Dudhi Chana. I decide I want to make the thepla on my own using my mom's instruction. I ask her if she learned to cook the same way from her mother. "Since my studies always came first, I never learned that much cooking- if anything I just helped out sometimes. When I came to the US and had to cook for my family, I already knew how to make 40% of the things and 60% I learned on my own. Either I would call my mom or look at Tarla Dalal cookbooks. My mom would spend hours in the kitchen each day. I obviously do a lot less cooking than her and I make less variety of food than she does. I realized I like cooking when I cook for myself and I try something new. but it's usually very tiresome since I'm expected to do it all the time."






















I mix whole wheat flour with turmeric, chili powder, salt, oil, and methi leaves. Methi is what we call fenugreek leaves, available dried at most Indian grocery stores. We have to soak them in a bit of water for 5 minutes and then I add a lump of the wet leaves to the dough. You must add water splash by splash until a dough with a good consistency is formed. I roll them into balls with my hands and then roll them out into 6 inch circles using a velan (rolling pin) and a marble patlo (board) with plenty of flour to prevent sticking. Then one by one, I place a thepla on a hot cast iron pan waiting for one side to obtain brown spots, flipping it and brushing it with more oil and doing the same on the other side once done.  Once we have finished making a good pile of theplas, we start assembling each thali with the shaak, 2 theplas, rice, a cucumber-tomato salad, pickle, and mango cubes. I've never been more excited to eat a complete Gujju meal before and I'm proud that I was actually a part of it.

















Dudhi Chana Shaak
(serves 4)
1 cup chana dal (yellow split peas)
1 dudhi (bottle gourd)
1/2 tomato, chopped
5 pieces kokum
5 fresh or dried curry leaves
1 small piece serrano chili, chopped
1/2 tsp mustard seeds
1/2 tsp haldi (turmeric)
1/2 tsp  lal mirchi (chili powder)
1 tsp dana jeeru (cumin-coriander powder)
2 tsp sugar
1 tbsp lime or lemon juice
Salt to taste

1. Soak the chana dal in for 6 hours or place in a pressure cooker with 1 and 1/2 cups of water for 15 minutes.
2. Cut the gourd into quarter inch pieces
3. In a large pot, heat 2 tbsp oil. Fry mustard seeds, curry leaves and chili pepper. Then add the gourd and saute for 5 minutes.
4. Add the chana dal and its water to the pot along with the kokum. Then add the turmeric, chili powder, and cumin-coriander powder, sugar, and salt to taste. Simmer for 15 minutes covered.
5. Add the chopped tomato and simmer for another 5 minutes
6. Finish with a squeeze of lime and serve with hot theplas.


Thepla
(serves 4)
1 cup whole wheat flour
1/4 tsp turmeric
Pinch of chili powder
Pinch of salt
1 tbsp finely chopped fresh or reconstituted dried methi leaves (fenugreek)
4 tsp oil

1. Mix all dried ingredients along with methi leaves. Then add 2 tsp oil and add a few spoons of water until you form a dough.
2. Add remaining 2 tsp of oil and kneed into a ball. Let the dough sit for half an hour covered.
3. Roll dough into approximately 6-8 balls. Roll each out into an even 6 inch circle using a rolling pin and extra flour to prevent sticking
4. In a skillet on high heat, cook one thepla until it develops lots of brown spots. Flip it over and brush the cooked side with more oil. Flip again until the other side browns up and brush with oil again. Place on a plate to cool
5. Repeat