When cooks can't cook

My husband and I met in Honolulu at an international education development conference. The day we met, I was certain he was the man I wanted to marry and live a global nomad's life with. We got married exactly one year after the day we met. Very romantic, I know. The not so romantic aspect of our life in international development, is that we sometimes have to brave the not so romantic aspects of living in developing countries. I've had to rough it in Equatorial Guinea, Africa, where I was hospitalized in a "clinic" in the middle of nowhere from food poisoning caused by eating bush rat. I've also been known to be looking maniacally for a restroom in Mexico, Colombia, China, and Washington DC (damn that hot dog from a stand in the National Mall)!

I wouldn't exactly say we're roughing it in Panama, since we live in a beautiful high rise in an impressive new concrete jungle of shiny, tall, modern, futuristic-looking buildings. When you're about to land at the Panama City airport, the view of the skyline resembles Miami or even Dubai instead of what you would imagine a Central American skyline to look like. 

Despite the marble, views of the Pacific, pools, saunas, and all the luxury, however, construction is not of the highest quality. It's common for floors to rise all of a sudden, creating giant pyramids of marble tiles in the middle of your living room. Water pipes are known to burst constantly, causing entire buildings to lose water for days at a time. Lack of maintenance is the norm, despite high administration and rental fees.

Three weeks ago, they shut off the gas in our building. No hot water. No stove. No oven. No dryer. The reason = multiple gas leaks in almost every floor of our 40-story building. The gas guy told me there was a gas pipe on the 40th floor that was in such bad shape, it "would have been a bomb." 

We've had to be resourceful. I'm using wedding gifts that usually remain untouched in the back of my cabinets. Cuisinart griddlers and toaster ovens have baked, broiled, panninied, and toasted like they've never done before. I heat water with an electric kettle for my young sons to shower (under a watering can we hold above their heads), but my husband and I bathe in freezing H2O. Yes, it's hot here in Panama, but damn, that water is still cold. 

I'm using this opportunity to teach my four-year-old the concept of luxuries like running water, hot water, and electricity. I'm also using this opportunity to think of recipes I can cook without the use of a stove or a normal oven. Here is the recipe for a roasted vegetable lasagna I made in my toaster oven. 

When cooks can't cook....they still find a way. 

Roasted Vegetable Lasagna (*Adapted from Rombauer's Joy of Cooking)

Ingredients:
zucchini (3 lbs)
eggplants (3 lbs)
tomatoes (3 lbs)
coarse Kosher salt (I like Mortons)
fresh ground pepper
olive oil (1 tsp)
Ricotta cheese (1 lb)
Parmesan cheese (1/2 cup)
Eggs (2)
nutmeg (1/2 tsp)
breadcrumbs (1/4 cup)

In roasting pans, roast three pounds each of sliced zucchini, eggplant, and tomatoes in plenty of coarse Kosher salt, fresh ground pepper, and olive oil. Roast at 350 degrees until nice and caramelized. 

Cook dried lasagna (1 lb) in salted boiling water and a splash of vegetable oil for a couple of minutes less than normal cooking time because pasta will continue cooking in the oven.

In a bowl, mix ricotta cheese (1 lb), parmesan cheese (1/2 cup), two eggs, salt, nutmeg, and pepper and set in fridge until ready to use.

To assemble lasagna, place one layer of pasta on a glass pyrex lined with olive oil, then add a layer of the ricotta cheese mixture. Top with crushed pepper and roasted vegetables, and repeat for as many layers as you can. Finish off with a layer of lasagna topped with parmesan cheese and breadcrumbs.

Cover lasagna with aluminum foil and bake at 350 degrees (ideally  in a normal oven, but when you have to, a toaster oven works as well) for half an hour. Remove foil and bake for another 15 minutes. Remove from oven and let rest for 15 minutes before serving.

Julia Child's 100 and feeling extraordinary

Julia Child was born 100 years ago today. I felt I should write a little something because her life, it seems to me, was pretty awesome. It was all about personality and joy - my kind of living. Quite a few of my friends often tell me they think about me when her name pops up. Surely it's because like me, she studied at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris. However, I hope they also think of me because like her, I am a woman with dreams and a passion for the delicious things in life.

She worked for the OSS during WWII and was stationed in present day Sri Lanka. There she met the love of her life, Paul Child, whose position with the US Foreign Service took them to Paris after the war. Paris exposed her to fine cuisine and she became one of the most famous chefs in the world and a standard to which chefs are still measured.

The Julia Child biographies I've read highlight her cheerfulness and drive. When I think of her, I think of the ambition that every woman should have to be extraordinary. Almost two years ago, I turned to my husband and asked him if he thought I was extraordinary. What I meant was whether or not he thought I was more interesting and fulfilled than an average 30-year old wife and mother. He said yes, or course, but I wasn't convinced of it myself. Thus the decision to attend culinary school, toddler in tow, and face not only a career change but also embark on a journey that would waken a new part of me. This adventure would fulfill a personal dream and also challenge the assumption than the average 30-year-old wife and mother can't realize her aspirations because such a plan could affect a family in so many ways. Lucky for me, my husband and I saw how this experience would benefit our family rather than affect it negatively.

Julia was a great chef who changed the course of cooking in the US for the better. I admire this aspect of her life, of course, but for me, the most inspiring element of her life was her ability to make decisions (though often radical) that allowed her to savor and appreciate the things in life that made her truly happy. Cooking and eating bring many of us happiness, but an inherent joy for life is the stuff that takes you that next step to feeling extraordinary.

***

In celebration of her life, I made my boys Le Cordon Bleu Paris' Creme Dubarry (Cream of Cauliflower). It was heart-warming and delicious - much like Julia Child's (and my) life.

Creme Dubarry with heart-shaped croutons

Here's the recipe. 

Ingredients:

cauliflower

leek (white part)

butter

flour

salt & pepper

chicken stock

Thickening agent for soup:

cream

egg yolks (optional)

Croutons:

white bread

Cut leeks lengthwise, then in half moons and sweat in butter. Add a pinch of salt and cook at low heat until almost translucent. Add cauliflower florets and stir - avoid browning. Add a bit of chicken stock to help the leek and cauliflower cook and absorb flavors. Add two tablespoons of flour and stir. Once the flour is cooked (without letting it brown), add enough chicken stock to submerge vegetables. Add a bit more salt, and cover pot. Once cauliflower is cooked through, blend soup and strain (optional). 

In a separate bowl, whisk cream, two egg yolks, salt and pepper together. Return blended soup to cooking pot, and slowly add cream mixture to thicken the soup. Season to taste.

Croutons: 

Cut white bread into desired shapes and toast in an oven. Optional: dip a corner of the toasted croutons in olive oil and dip into finely chopped parsley for color.

Le Cordon Bleu = The Plan

This journey begins in Port of Spain, Trinidad & Tobago. As wild parrots fly by my window to make their morning calls, the French Embassy telephones to inform me that my student visa was granted.

The Plan: 

Move to Paris for eight months to study Le Grand Diplôme, the highest degree in culinary and pastry arts, at Le Cordon Bleu.

Why:

This crazy idea started when I was telling my husband (for the millionth time) about my dream to go to culinary school. But I didn't want to go to just any culinary school. I wanted to go to the culinary school. Le Cordon Bleu. And I didn't want to go to just any Cordon Bleu. I wanted to go to Le Cordon Bleu in Paris, the city that has inspired some of the most influential and creative people of all time.

He, being the most generous, supportive, and fantastic man in the world, said, "Do it!"

Background:

In order to tell you the whole story about this dream of mine, I should start from the beginning. I remember eating (and enjoying) spinach crepes at age six, when my friends thought they were "yucky" and "weird". I was raised eating escargots and drinking Möet Chandon (even if a bit watered down) before the age of ten. The protagonists of this exposure were my mother, a fantastic cook, and my father, a fantastic eater.

I eat street food, restaurant food, and everything in between. Macaroni and cheese from a box (which I first ate at the age of 26, when my husband introduced me to the stuff), to warthog in peanut sauce in a remote village in Equatorial Guinea, Africa. Fat ants in Colombia and fried grasshoppers in Mexico. Boeuf Bourguignon in a Parisian cafe, and lovely spots of tea in London, Karachi, and Beijing.

I was born and raised in Colombia, one of the most beautiful places in the world. My family is from Cartagena, the most beautiful place in the world. Cartagena's history dates back forever and ever as a melting pot for West Africans, Middle-easteners, Native Americans, and Europeans, among others. The food of Cartagena is a product of its diverse immigration history. A common dinner in Cartagena, for example, is a pot roast cooked in the French style, served with coconut rice and plantains, which are West African dishes that I also ate in Equatorial Guinea, Africa, by the way. But I'll leave that for another blog entry. 

Inspired by the social context in which I grew up, I went on to study two Masters degrees in social anthropology, one at the London School of Economics (LSE). The LSE is a petri dish for international development workers, one of which I became. I worked at an NGO in Washington DC on education programs in Africa and Latin America. A couple of years later, I moved to Trinidad and Tobago because my husband was offered a job working for an international organization. I left my job and dedicated myself to being a wife and mother. Shortly after our son was born, I realized I didn't want to continue working at the same pace as before he was born. That's when I considered realizing my dream about attending culinary school.

I'd like to think of myself as an amateur food anthropologist. I have much to learn, however, and thus my plan to become a chef. I am not a foodie, nor am I an expert in anything. What I am is an ethnographer who enjoys learning about food, its history and context, and who wants to become a chef. In this blog, I plan to chronicle my experience living in Paris and studying at Le Cordon Bleu as well as talk about the food of my travels. Trinidadian cuisine, for example, is fascinating to me, so look for entries about it during the next few weeks before I head off to Paris.

Here we go...