Mackerel Rundown

Fruit and fish – a seemingly popular combination in traditional Jamaican cuisines. Most notice this trend in the internationally recognized blend of ackee and saltfish. However, even more interesting mélanges exist outside the national dish. Imagine: the nutty sweetness of a coconut, and the salted flakiness of mackerel. Throw in the some seasonings, vegetables and hot peppers and voila, you have the Jamaican specialty: mackerel rundown. Rundown is the locally accepted name for the gravy made from the reduced coconut milk mixed with the various seasonings. Mackerel is the country-wide recognized additive, however many other meats, fish and vegetables may replace the mackerel based on preference. My family eats rundown mackerel at least once monthly. We seldom have an occasion for eating this dish, yet we always choose to eat the meal for breakfast in our household. On the other hand, some Jamaicans choose to eat rundown for lunch or dinner. Keeping in mind the various alternatives with regard to the preparation of the meal, one inclines towards the question: how did such a malleable dish rise to popularity? In Jamaica, ease and economy has much to do with the way people orchestrate their lives; hence the world renowned phrase, “Jamaica: No Problem”. It is my belief that the simplicity and low economic impact of creating rundown is why the dish has risen to achieve the fame, glory and familiarization it has in Jamaica. Not only does this simple food represent the sentimentality of family traditions and years of long-lost culture, but it also stands for Jamaican adaptability and the idea our motto purports: “Out of Many One People”.
 

The most interesting facet of rundown happens to be its origins. The Oxford English Dictionary defines rundown as a word with origins in the Caribbean which is: “A dish consisting of a boiled coconut sauce containing fish, chicken, vegetables, and/or other ingredients (O.E.D.).  According to the Dictionary of Jamaican English, there is evidence as early as 1943 using the vernacular version of “rung dung”, and after Jamaica’s independence from Great Britain, we see the first written archives of the anglicized version “rundown” in the Gleaner (the national newspaper) in 1963 (Houston 168). According to the glossary of Houston’s book Food Culture in the Caribbean, “Dip and fall back” is defined as: “Salt fish cooked in coconut milk, served in Jamaica for special occasions such as weddings”. Even though this terminology is unfamiliar to me, upon further research, there is a general consensus that rundown and dip and fall back are one in the same. When I checked under the sub-heading of “Celebrations: Wedding”, Houston’s book also stated that dip and fall back is a “salted shad dish cooked in coconut milk and accompanied by rum,” and is served to the groom to “increase his virility for the wedding night” (Houston 136). Further reading resulted in even more alternate names for the dish, some of which included: “round-the-road and flabob, or flambob” (Higman 168). And in the very next  sentence, Higman mentions that: “[rundown’s] name and its method of preparation suggest a connection with the Indonesian rending, but how this might have come about is unknown”(Higman 168). A simple Google search of “fish and coconut milk” yielded the following international results: Sinaing na Tulingan ( a dish from the made mainly with tuna), Penang Laksa ( a Malaysian soup with noodles), Faiai Eleni (a Samoan dish made with herrings) and Sinaing na Plaa Thoo Sot (a dish from Thailand which seems to be exactly identical to rundown, but with a dash of Thai red curry). In terms of how the dish has developed over the years, Higman write that:  “Down to the middle of the twentieth century, it was common for a dish of rundown to form a communal bowl into which a boiled or roasted “bread-kind” was dipped: coco, yam and plantain, as well as breadfruit and banana. The association with these starchy staples persists, though the communal bowl is much less common” (Higman 168). This communal dish is believed to be how the names “dip-and-fall-back”, “dip-and-come-back” and “dip-and-shake-off”, which refers to the actions involved in eating, came to be. And in relation to the direct cultural origins of rundown Higman believes that, “the origin of the combination of foods surrounding rundown appears strongly African in its fundamentals” (Higman 169) and then she mentions that the roots do not stem only from Africa, but, “in parts of Jamaica during the 1950s the common name for rundown was “pakassa”, a sauce with etymological roots in Hindi but widely known in Jamaican communities. It is hard to tell whether pakassa was influential in the development of rundown or whether rundown existed before Indian indenture: the earliest citations for both words given in the Dictionary of Jamaican English are from the 1940s” (Higman 168-9). Finally, there are many different versions of rundown widely accepted in Jamaican circles. For instance another section of Higman’s book claims that rundown is “made from salted shad and coconut oil” (Higman 9). And later, when speaking about the importance of chicken in Jamaican diets, Higman had this to add: “A peculiarly Jamaican version [is] “run-down curried chicken”, in which a method normally associated with fish was used to transform the curry by adding coconut cream and shredded coconut to make a custard” (Higman 348). The vast breadth of the origins listed above show how history and the fusion of various cultures have come together to create a dish so unique and undeniably Jamaican.

My ideal rundown contains my favourite vegetables: sweet pepper, scallions and onions. I suppose tomatoes are necessary for the flavour of the dish, but personally, I really dislike it if there are chunks of tomatoes in my rundown. If you use ketchup as a substitute, you have hereby been shunned. Go home – you are no longer permitted to cook rundown using that heinous ingredient.  In my household, we always prepare the dish using salted mackerel we buy from the grocery. Since we choose to do it this way, we have to boil the mackerel and soak it in vinegar before we even start cooking. My mother varies between buying coconut milk powder (this is the much cheaper option) and milk (this is the easier option) from the tin. Although I am sure there are merits to both strategies, I have never been able to distinguish a difference in terms of taste and consistency. Next, we combine the mackerel and the seasonings and vegetables to the reduced coconut milk and have our rundown. There is no broader symbolism of this dish within the Whittingham family traditions. The closest pattern to a tradition that we have around the dish is that because it is my favourite dish, it is usually what the family has for breakfast the first morning after I return home from wherever my travels have taken me. Therefore, to me, a meal of rundown mackerel symbolizes homecoming. When a dish of rundown comes to the table, the first thing that strikes me is the aroma wafting throughout the dining room. The almost pungent odour of the boiled, salted mackerel with the sweet, tropical scent of the coconuts and finally with all the tangy spices of the Caribbean concocts the perfume of the rundown. When I serve myself from the platter of sides in the centre of the table, I always go for the dumplings first. Dad always goes for the avocado first, and then takes a half of a dumpling (always just a half) and my brother Spencer goes for the green bananas (my mother never goes for the sides first because she likes to pretend that she does not eat carbs because they are unnecessary and unhealthy. But if you pretend as if you are not watching, she will try to be sneaky and ‘stealthily’ grab a piece of banana or half a dumpling when she thinks nobody is watching her). When I have my necessary sides, I then go for a serving of rundown. First I pick out an adequate amount of mackerel meat, then I go for my favourite vegetables and then at last, I heap the enticing and delicious spiced, coconut gravy all over the entirety of my plate. The flavours generate a phenomenal and indescribable explosion of pleasure upon my taste buds and leave me craving and reeling for more. The creamy gravy melts the mackerel apart in my mouth while the flavours of every component of the dish highlight and intensify the effects of the others.

As far back as I can remember my family has been eating rundown mackerel. Since the ingredients are fairly cheap, easy to find and constantly available, we have always incorporated it into our diets. According to my mother, even from when she was a little girl, “it just was always in the house”. The knowledge of how to cook the dish has been passed down through Jamaican cultures for generations upon generations. My family does not have a specific rundown recipe that is unique to our household. Instead, we simply use the recipe of whoever happens to be the one cooking. This irregularity is never any problem, for as my father claims: “Every Jamaican helper is an expert at cooking mackerel rundown”.  In my family, the current cook and household helper is a lovely, kind-hearted woman from south-west Jamaica who we call Miss Angella. Angella says she learned how to cook rundown from “mi modda” (her mother) who taught her when she was a “ likkle girl. Bout fourteen or thirteen”. In the past, the dish has almost exclusively been prepared by our helpers. Even though we have had many helpers all throughout the years, every one that I can remember has prepared this meal for our family. However, a striking observation is that it is never the same. Each time I have ever had rundown cooked by different hands it has looked, tasted and felt unique. Grandma’s rundown is more tomatoey, our last helper’s rundown was more custardy and Angella’s rundown is more soupy. However, the variations from person-to-person are not so drastic that the dish ever becomes undistinguishable; but the subtle differences produce a surprisingly significant effect. In terms of the different types of rundown he has had, my father had this to say: “it’s tasted differently. I think they used to put more coconut in it than they do these days…” These are just a few examples of how the dish can differ even within one family unit.

As of December 6, 2011, I am the only member of my nuclear family who has ever even attempted to make this dish. Therefore, one can safely assume that in my family, the consumption is leagues more important than the preparation. In truth, one of the best-tasting, most-memorable rundown dishes I can recall eating was not in my home. But it was one Mother’s Day a few years back when my father took his mother, my mother and I to a famous Jamaican resort called “Strawberry Hill” for Mother’s Day brunch. Brunch is common time to prepare rundown. In fact my mother recalls that rundown is “always a favourite at a brunch. It’s served in the hotels, it’s served in local restaurants all scattered throughout the island. Everybody serves it!” Although there was an expansive smorgasbord of every Jamaican delicacy known to man, the vivid memory of that Mother’s Day rundown has stayed with me ever since. This particular rundown was unique because I remember that it was sweeter than usual. The majesty of coconut milk lies in the fact that the cream is just right. It is not too creamy, nor too sweet. However the sauce on this rundown was both creamier and sweeter than what I was accustomed to. Nevertheless, it was a highly pleasing experience and has given me an irreplaceable memory. My family has never connected to the cultural roots or traditions passed down through generations with this dish. When we partake in the meal, we do not really think about or acknowledge the supposed African or East Indian roots, nor do we partake in the idea of the community one-pot. In terms of acquiescence, the most the family does is unconsciously recognize rundown as a meal that is, in all essences, Jamaican. That rundown is a dish unique to our little island and impossible to replicate any place else.

Outside of my family is possibly where the economic aspect and ease to create the dish comes better into play. As previously stated, rundown is a dish enjoyed by Jamaican families all over the island, and has been a part of our diets for many years.  A table in a book entitled The Political Economy of Food and Agriculture in the Caribbean had many tables showing food prices for various staple food items across the Caribbean islands from the eighties to the nineties. One table was particularly relevant to Jamaica and showed how the prices of mackerel, saltfish, sardines and other such products had been raising significantly over the years. The description read: “Table 17 reflects the disastrous impact of IMF-induced prices of basic food items in Jamaica. The national dish of Jamaica, “ackee and saltfish”, is now a luxury for many. Saltfish, which had been the chief protein dish for slaves and subsequently for the poorman because of its cheap price, is beyond the reach of the ordinary man in the 1990s” (123 Afroz & Belal). This goes to show how the branch connecting the incorporation of rundown, a historically common food, into diets ranging across all economic and social classes. Another scholar expressed her disquietude as she wrote that, “fish and seafood in the Caribbean used to be abundant and very cheap. However, today much of the best fish and seafood of the island is reserved for the consumption of tourists” (Houston 71). Since it is unlikely that in Jamaica’s short history as a nation, that the resources have managed to run dry, one is forced to question if things are really as they seem. It is just sad to see how the comfort of the locals has shifted to accommodate foreigners and those possessing greater wealth. Another interesting quote shows how the changing economy alters the way Jamaicans approach buying food and preparing it. In Higman’s book she mentions that: “Frozen mackerel entered Jamaica in the late twentieth century. From 1968 to 1987 a government-owned company, Jamaica Frozen Foods, imported it from Canada and Norway and pickled it for the local market. This product was displaced by imported pickled mackerel, which came at a cheaper price” (Higman 322). This goes to show that as time has gone by, locals have found ways to outsmart the system so that the foods that they are all accustomed to eating remain available. I believe this difficulty in obtaining all of the standard sets of ingredients is why so many variations of rundown exist today. If mackerel is inaccessible, throw in some chicken or saltfish. No coconut milk available? No problem, just use coconut oil instead. All that we have to do is find some easy, economic way to cross the hurdles. Our ability to adapt to our surroundings and the situations before us proves the perseverance and mettle of the Jamaican people.

As we have seen throughout the preceding auto-ethnographic journey, a simple breakfast dish possesses a vast amount of depth and significance. Each family and each cook preserves and invents an individual way by which to keep the meal alive. Even though most people have forgotten, or have merely chosen to ignore the origins and cultural backgrounds of the dish, making rundown (and other historically derived dishes) is still practiced through till this very day. In fact, by neglecting our roots we have proven that as a people we simply need a framework from which if given time and attention, our creative energies can flow from and meld together to create something spectacular. By combining one unlikely ingredient upon another, a theoretical culinary train-wreck has instead become a monumental structure within the all-encompassing Jamaican foodway. A crucial question then rises. How was it that these commonly available ingredients became delicacies at certain points in history? As Jamaica and other countries in the Third World continue to be governed by many incapable, self-sustaining and corrupt individuals, our economies can never hope to be boosted and the squalor perpetuates and increases exponentially. Those at the bottom of the food-chain can only pray conditions improve and continue to struggle and fight for some life worth enduring.  Rundown is again unique because despite fluctuating prices and questionable availability of the ingredients, Jamaicans have always found a way to keep it a part of our lives. In turn, rundown has just been integrated further among all levels of people inhabiting the island. The development of this dish proves the ingenuity of our people and how adept Jamaicans are at truly adapting something to be their own. Finally, the values behind the Jamaican motto “Out of Many One People” resonates through the creation of rundown.  For during our early years as a nation, when slavery and indentured work was rampant throughout the island, we took foreign cooking techniques, methodologies and ingredients, then introduced and overlapped these thing throughout our plethora of diverse peoples, and somehow managed to fuse it all together to create food (and to a greater extent, music, beliefs, practices etc.) that we identify with our modern-day culture.

While writing this paper, I suddenly felt inspired to take on and conquer making mackerel rundown on my very own. By loosely following suggestions from various online recipes, and from what I derived in my ethnographic research, I used a form of “vibration” cooking to create the meal. My very first mackerel rundown was a total hit! So here is the loose recipe I used to create the meal:
1 ½ tins of mackerel (Chicken of the Sea brand worked nicely)
2 tins of coconut milk (NOT coconut cream)
½ yellow onion
4 cloves garlic
3 stalks chopped scallion
2 diced plummy tomatoes
½ whole sweet pepper
2 chopped habenero peppers (but the dish ended up a little too spicy - so maybe one pepper is adequate)
About ½ cup cubed butternut squash (can replace with pumpkin or omit altogether)
Lots and lots of ground black pepper
Cooking oil for sautéing
Salt to taste (if the mackerel is pre-salted PLEASE IGNORE  this step)

First of all, break open the tins of coconut milk and put it in a saucepan on a high heat to boil. It will stay on the fire for a good 30 - 45 minutes.  After about 20 minutes turn the fire down to simmer the milk. Remove from the fire when the milk starts to thicken and separate to have a somewhat oily appearance on the surface and until it is noticeably thicker (if you are having trouble achieving a certain thickness, add about a teaspoon of flour to the milk and stir it in well). While the milk is boiling, chop up all of the vegetables finely and sauté them altogether in a hearty amount of vegetable oil. Add black pepper and salt to taste. But possibly the biggest step is to debone and de-skin the mackerel. If you leave the skin on, the fish has a tendency to taste raw and has a gooey, slimy consistency, and nobody like fish bones. After the vegetables and seasonings have been adequately browned, add the mackerel to the pan and mix it in to combine the flavours. Cover the pan and let it sit for a few minutes. When the coconut milk reduction is finished, combine the contents of the sauce pan with those of the frying pan (cooking oil and all), mix together well and serve hot with various appropriate side dishes.
This recipe feeds about 12-15 people.

Works Cited:                                                                                           

Afroz Sulatānā , Belal Ahmed. The Political Economy of Food and Agriculture in the Caribbean, London : J. Currey, 1996. Print.

Baker, Cutie Angella. Personal interview. 27 Nov 2011.

Higman, B. W. Jamaican Food: History, Biology, Culture, Kingston, Jamaica: University of the West Indies Press, 2008. Print.

Houston, Lynn Marie. Food Culture in the Caribbean, Westport: Greenwood Press, 2005. Print.

Whittingham, Colin. Personal interview. 27 Nov 2011.

Whittingham, Karen. Personal interview. 26 Nov 2011.

 “rundown, n.” The Oxford English Dictionary. Third edition, March 2011; Web. September 2011. <http://www.oed.com.proxy.library.emory.edu/view/Entry/168897>; accessed 02 December 2011.

Sushi Maki & the End of a Semester...

    

                Life is a cycle. And as such, I believe all things are meant to come full circle. Since I started the semester with my first food blog about Unagi sushi, I thought it would be extremely appropriate to finish the semester with a blog post about sushi again!
                For this chapter of my culinary adventures, my journey took me to a restaurant called Sushi Maki, located at gate D29 in the Miami International Airport. I have eaten in this very same restaurant with my mother before, so I expected a pleasant meal as was typical. I ended up ordering a pot of green tea and two pieces of sushi to start and an order of Pad Thai (rice noodles in a special Thai sauce, topped with crushed peanuts) for my main course.
                At first, I was rather surprised when my meal came. Firstly because the waitress clearly had no tact and as such, brought out all my food at once! So as I sat enjoying my sushi I was simultaneously lamenting that my noodles were growing ever colder…
                The first piece of sushi I ordered was written on the menu as “Hotategai.” My other surprise was because on this piece of my sushi, the hotate (scallop) came raw! At my local sushi joint I am accustomed to having the meat buttered, seasoned and most importantly, cooked. Yet I feel a wee bit ashamed at my shock since I know enough Japanese to know that the suffix “-gai” implies that it is uncooked… Nevertheless I was pleasantly surprised because even though scallops are renowned for their miserable, chewy textures, this little piece of sushi was so smooth! It was an absolute pleasure to consume. Who knows? I may even have to convert to eating raw scallops from now on.
                In addition to the hotategai sushi, I also ordered (surprise!) a piece of Unagi sushi. Now I’d like to take the time to point out that this piece of sushi is very different from what I first blogged about. The variation is apparent in the sense that this is what the Japanese actually refer to as sushi. This is in contrast to the ‘sushi’ I mentioned in the first blog, which is known as maki (lit. ‘roll’) in Japan. When sushi is referred to as maki, that is to say the fish (or whatever ingredients) are rolled in the middle of a layer of nori (seaweed) and rice. The Japanese are more accustomed to eating the individual pieces like those I ate than maki, which is more common among Westerners. And as usual, this piece of sushi was utterly delectable. I am extremely partial to unagi sushi because I adore the way the Japanese prepare eel. The eel was soft, well cooked and marinated in the perfect amount of eel sauce.
                Sadly enough, the worst part of my meal was the entrée - a chicken and shrimp Pad Thai. It really was my fault though; I should never have ordered a non-Japanese meal from a (so-called) Japanese restaurant…  The noodles were barely cooked. They were chewy, leathery and extremely difficult to swallow. In addition, they were slathered in an extremely sweet sauce that I had to counter with two servings of soy sauce and wasabi. The taste was barely masked and to make matter worse,the noodles were also completely overpowered by a serving of bean sprouts (which I added, hoping the sprouts would make the dish more appetizing. Oops…). I really don’t like to send food back, but if the customer isn’t happy then the patron should try and fix that, right? So I sent the noodles back and opted for an order of Special Fried Rice. (Not that this meal was terribly Japanese either, but at least it seemed a little closer to home.)Needeless to say, the Fried Rice was a marked improvement. The rice was fresh, hot and bursting with flavour. The vegetables (carrots, onions, edamame beans, bean sprouts and scallions) were crunchy and juicy. Due to the eggs and the meats and the variety of the vegetables, the dish was quite colourful, and as a result, very aesthetically pleasing. The serving size was also hearty and therefore, worth its price.
                Overall, disregarding the little hitch in the middle, the meal was quite good, and left me ready for my late-night flight back to Atlanta.

Taste: ****½
Texture: ****½
Tummy Happiness: ****½

Image source:
http://shop.fiu.edu/_assets/images/aramark-vectors/sushi-maki.png
(More pictures to come! Trying to figure out my phone camera…  :\)

    

The Tenth -- Thai

A fair while back, in a time long, long ago, my university awarded its fervent, hard-working students a well-deserved break. That ancient holiday was known as, “Fall Break,” and over its course I ventured to many a creative venue in search of sustenance.
                Alas on the third day, a Sunday, as I recall, a friend and I traversed to the Atlanta neighbourhood of Midtown to partake in the Atlanta Pride 2011 festivities. The parade petered out at the end of 10^th Street by the entrance to Piedmont Park, leaving my friend and I with the rest of the afternoon to explore the vibrant, bustling, gay-friendly lane. The conclusion of our travels led us to a quaint little Thai restaurant, adorned with rainbow banners, streamers and flags, appropriately named “The Tenth.”
                On my first real visit to Atlanta I remember accidentally ending up at this very same restaurant with my father in tow. Even though I have forgotten exactly what I ate that day, I do remember the meal was very good. So I was more than pleased when my friend and I managed to get a table despite the hustle and bustle of the festive day.

                The interior of the restaurant had a fairly relaxed ambiance, which was a nice contrast to the excitement outside. The layout was fairly simple; not very remarkable nor very Thai but nevertheless pleasant. The food is where this restaurant capitalizes. And of course, there was no shortage in the seafood that I perpetually crave.
                We started the meal by ordering the Fried Wonton appetizer.  It consisted of a long, thin fried dumpling of sorts, stuffed with ground shrimp, chicken, garlic, Thai pepper and served with Thai sweet chili sauce. The thing that shocked me the most about this dish was the unique shape of the wonton. Traditionally, Asian wontons are small, thick and fat while these were long and tube-like – think a ‘Pirouette’ biscuit. (Unfortunately I did not get a photo of the appetizer because I was famished and forgot to take out my camera before digging in.) The fried rice paper exterior was flakey and crunchy at the same time and the filling was peppered just right. Unfortunately, it was difficult to differentiate between the tastes of the pork and the shrimp, but regardless, the chili sauce accompaniment was a perfect blend of sweet, tangy and spicy. For me, the exterior skin was also a little too thick in proportion to the filling. Even though the flavours all melded together, they blended well and the dish was delightful overall.
                For my main course I ordered a dish called “Kra-Prao Seafood” which was comprised of shrimps, calamari, mussels and mixed vegetables stir-fried in a chili-basil sauce and served with sticky white rice. The dish was very tasty and the spicy/peppery sauce worked well with both the seafood and the vegetables. I don’t have much to say in terms of criticism except that I wish there had been a little more sauce so my rice would have been able to get doused in it too! 

                My friend however, ordered a dish that left me completely jealous and re-thinking my meal option! He opted to try a dish called “Spicy Catfish” which was sautéed catfish filet with green beans, mixed in with a red curry paste and basil sauce. First off, one of the most important aspects of food for me is texture. And whereas I ordered a dish with a fair amount of chewy components (i.e. the calamari and mussels), the texture of the catfish was unlike anything I had tasted in a long while. The meat was fresh, juicy, hot and absolutely succulent. It was amazing, because even though the exterior was coated in the curry/basil sauce mixture, the fish itself managed to maintain the unique catfish flavour. In addition, the sauce was better than the one on my meal too! The curry paste gave the dish a surprisingly sweet and smoky taste, and the basil sauce spiced things up. There was also a very distinct pepper source, which tasted to me like red, hot chilies even though the menu description didn’t state anything in particular. Plus, as an added bonus, the green beans were plump and crisp.

                And finally, to top it all off, we decide to share the dessert platter. The platter was comprised of “Fried Banana w/ Coconut Ice Cream”, “Blueberry Cream Cheese Spring Rolls” and “Fried Green Tea Ice Cream.”  I was a little disappointed after the meals when I ate the desserts. Everything was mind-blowingly tasty, but the textures were poor at best. The coating of the fried ice cream was actually dreadful. It was rubbery, chewy and cold – as if it had been put out or cooked for a while. The blueberry cream cheese and fried banana were just fillings inside more of those aforementioned rice paper skins. Except this time, the exteriors were tough instead of crunchy. Yet as I said, the mix of flavours was spectacular. Plus, the presentation was fun and aesthetically-pleasing. My favourite part of the dessert platter was probably the plain ol’ coconut ice cream, because it was the right mix of milky and icy and the flavour was on point.

                My friend was also feeling ambitious and ordered “Fresh Mango w/ Sticky rice” as another dessert, but I was too bust pulling my weight through the dessert platter to try it out. But here’s a picture anyways:
(He said it was delicious!)

                The service was quick and the servers were friendly and patient. In my opinion, the pricing was a little out of range for the average college student. But my hefty bill could also be because I indulged in a three-course meal knowing full-well that this occasion would be my splurge of the month.
                All in all, I whole-heartedly recommend you go pay “The Tenth” a visit. 10^th Street is really enjoyable to explore while you’re there too!

Taste: *****
Texture: **½
Tummy Happiness: ****½

Jamaican Escoveitch Fish

                For a recent assignment in school, I was asked to write about a specific food from home and its importance to me on an emotional and cultural level. I became so invested in the assignment that now all I want to do is reminisce about good ol’ home cooking. So I shall, and of course, it all links back to seafood!
                As you may know, I am a Jamaican born and raised, currently living abroad to attend school in the States. So, today, I’m going to talk about a popular staple in Jamaican diets: Escoveitch Fish. 

                I’m not exactly sure of the origin of this dish, but it became popular in the years of post-colonialization when the many foreign nationalities that came to Jamaica started to interact and intermingle. The final product became a dish is comprised of two components: Escoveitch sauce and fried fish.
                Due to the widespread nature of this dish, the Escoveitch sauce can either be prepared fresh or bought ready-made at markets/supermarkets. The sauce consists of a marinade of onions (or shallots), cho cho, fresh pimento, carrots and scotch bonnet peppers soaked in vinegar, for at least 24 hours. If pickled and preserved properly, the sauce can last in the fridge for months without any fear of spoilage. In my home, we have a perpetual jar of Escoveitch sauce ready in our fridge.
                The fish can come in many forms, however, king fish, red snapper and parrot fish are the most common types of fish used to comprise this dish. The fish should be fully cleaned and gutted (de-boning is optional), then the flesh should be rubbed with salt and pepper (or fish seasoning if you wish), and then fried crisp. But if you don’t really enjoy fresh fish, or if it simply isn’t available, there is an additional way to prepare this dish. First, buy packaged fish fillets (any type will do) at the supermarket, then dip the thawed fish in a mixture of egg, milk, flour, salt and pepper, and then fry thoroughly until brown and crisp. Lastly, add the separately prepared Escoveitch sauce with the appropriate sides, and voila!

                Escoveitch fish is usually served as a breakfast item, with a specific set of side dishes. Breakfast sides include: fried or boiled bammy (a dumpling made from cassava), boiled green bananas, baked or fried breadfruit, festival (a sweet, fried flour dumpling), boiled flour dumplings, Johnny cakes (fried flour dumplings) and sweet or yellow yams (boiled or roasted). Escoveitch fish served in this manner is offered for purchase on most of the island’s popular, public beaches. In fact, many Jamaicans (my family included) will travel miles to a strip of beach known as Hellshire, which despite is heavily polluted waters, serves the most devious and delicious plate of Escoveitch fish on the island - and for dirt cheap too!
                Now even through the previous mode of preparation is most prevalent, the meal can also be eaten for lunch or dinner with alternate sides. Some of these lunch and dinner sides include: steamed callaloo (Caribbean spinach), rice and peas, assorted steamed vegetables, pasta salad, avocado pear and fried plantains. 

                If Escoveitch fish is made right (i.e. by Hellshire standards), the meat of the fish should be moist and soft and still retain a measure of outer crunchiness despite the coating of Escoveitch sauce. This dish is best served hot, with the sides cooked crisply or boiled tenderly. Many people tend to spoil the dish by either adding too much salt in the fish’s independent seasoning, or allowing the fish to soak in the marinade until soggy.  With a little care and attention these faults can be avoided, and with that a tasty, quintessentially Jamaican dish lies before you.

Taste: ****
Texture: ****
Tummy Happiness: **** ½ 

Image sources:
http://jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20060330/cook/Images/fishfryA20060327ST.JPG
http://www.niceysfoodmart.com/images/esc_fish.jpg
http://api.ning.com/files/X1bEXeFYbAhUJV25x2L4PZSabnIovCJ-bxzoWMwJ3NNPyzj0*01VuJxv3JmgJv6f6jTknOJDRC*XodFRaDFCqbgKOST-go*N/EscovitchFish.JPG

5 Seasons Restaurant and Brewery - Salmon, Fish Tacos and more!

               This weekend a few of my girlfriends and I ventured to Atlanta’s Midtown to watch a play (Spring Awakening – it was fabulous!). On the way there, however, hunger called and we were helpless but to heed to its mighty roar. Alas, after a brisk 5 minute walk from the theatre, we ended up at 5 Seasons Restaurant and Brewery Westside.
                The overall ambiance of the restaurant was pleasant from the get-go, and the décor was both modern and subdued, so as not to overwhelm its patrons. But from the moment I saw the name of the restaurant I knew I wouldn’t be able to enjoy all it had to offer. 5 Seasons Restaurant and BREWERY. Too bad I can’t partake until I’m 21… The restaurant claims to brew all its beer in the basement of the very building and runs it directly through the tap at the bar. In addition, the restaurant boasts that all of its food is organic and locally grown. Well, that convinced me enough. So my girls and I chowed down!
                To start, we opted to share a dish of Gulf Shrimp & Cheddar Grit Cakes. I hate to say it but this appetiser was by far the best part of the meal. First of all, the presentation was on point and the dish just burst with flavour. The shrimps were big, juicy, plump and fresh. The grit cakes were pan-seared to perfection, leaving a nice crispy outer layer despite being drenched in the tangy sauce. And the cheddar cheese was just noticeable enough to compliment the plate, rather than overwhelm the taste buds. The garnish of chorizo sausage added a bit of salt and zest to the mixture, while the onions on top remained crunchy and flavourful. The whole appetiser sat in an orange sauce with a tomato base that I simply could not get enough of.  My friends nearly had to hold me back from asking the waitress for some bread to help sop it up.

              

               Keeping with my theme of seafood, for my main course I chose to have the Organic Salmon, which was served with sticky rice and vegetables in Thai red curry. I was served a hearty fillet which was soft and succulent. The fillet was also lacking (much to my pleasure) the grayish flesh and dark meat typically found on the underside of salmon. But while the texture of the fish was quite good, the sauce, which I had been looking forward to, was lacking. The curry was simply too mild. The fish, which was quite bland on its own, should have been seasoned heavier or there should have been some more spice in the curry. Because of this, the coconut milk in the sauce’s base was very pronounced and almost overdone. The vegetables were good, but the portion was a little too small. And in my personal opinion, the rice could have been a bit sticker, but now I’m just nitpicking. Surprisingly enough, even the though I wasn’t terribly excited with my meal at first, after a few bites the meal just started tasting better. I’m not sure what it was, but whatever the cause I cleaned my plate gratifyingly.

                Since I’m covering seafood, I figured I would make a notable mention of my friend’s order of 3 Fish Tacos. Unfortunately, I neglected to inquire what type of fish was included in the tacos, but what I do know was that the texture was glorious. The fish literally just melted in my mouth in all the good ways. But like with the salmon, the flavor was once again minimal. However, the mango and green tomato salsa (which contained a noticeable splash of lime) was both refreshing and tied the dish together by creating an interesting mélange of flavours. In addition, the tacos were served with rice with black beans and corn which were moist and not bad tasting either. But since the tacos came pre-stuffed with the fish and salsa, adding the rice and beans caused the taco to become over- stuffed, difficult to hold and started to fall apart.

               For dessert I chose the Marscapone Crème Brulée  which sadly was nothing special. The unique marscapone flavour was practically absent and it ended tasting like regular, run-of-the-mill crème brulée. It also would have been nice if the burnt sugar topping was warmer – to me, that always implies the freshness. My friend chose to have a scoop of the homemade mango ice cream. The ice cream was decently flavoured (but not like a Caribbean mango – nothing beats that) with a perfect balance of sweet and tart, but the texture was just horrid. You’d the think the term ice cream would imply a decent amount of ice and cream, right? Well this one literally had ice shavings in it. It was almost as if some ‘cream’ had been thrown in there just to hold the ice together.

                In terms of the overall experience, the restaurant had a fair amount of good attributes and a few not so good ones. For the pros, the restaurant ambiance was pleasant, the menu seemed quite versatile and even included gluten free options (I’m gluten intolerant so this was a huge plus!),the prices were fair (especially for the claims of all organic ingredients) and the wait staff was quick, friendly, helpful and responsive. In terms of the cons, the wait staff had very poor appearances. The women were dressed mostly in tiny booty shorts and almost every employee was riddled with visible piercings and tattoos which betrayed their actual politeness. But my biggest peeve was that I couldn’t drink the beer!!
                All in all, a good experience. I would like to back someday.

Taste: ****

Texture: ****

Tummy Happiness: ***

Feel free to check out their website here.

Unagi Sushi

           Japan, Japan. Land of the rising sun, and homeland of the consumption of raw fish products… Tonight, I shall partake in cuisine from thy bounty…Thus, keeping with the theme of seafood, for tonight’s meal I enjoyed a small platter of Unagi (sea eel) sushi.  
            As a college student, good sushi can often be both hard to find and beyond my budget. Fortunately enough, the on-campus food court, Cox Hall, provides a small array of pre-made sushi options. Though the sushi is not freshly made (as all sushi should be!!) it is usually good enough to sate that incessant craving. Alas, I ventured to the depths of the refrigerated section and emerged with my nourishment for the evening.
          Opting to be a little healthier I chose the brown rice sushi option. The sushi roll consisted of six components: brown rice, eel, cucumber, sesame seeds, nori (seaweed) and eel sauce. You can choose to eat the roll as is, but personally, I like to eat my sushi with all the accompanied condiments. That is, with soy sauce, wasabi (spicy Japanese horse radish) and a bit of pickled ginger afterwards for a refresher. Now, as I mentioned before, the sushi already comes drizzled in the sweet “kabayaki” or eel sauce. Therefore mixing in all the condiments can be risky business. For some people, the flavours of both the soy and eel sauces contrast too greatly and thus drown out the flavor of the sushi altogether. But for me, it’s all about finding the balance. With the right amount of soy sauce, the two tastes can actually compliment quite nicely. To avoid excessively dousing with soy sauce, I prefer to actually drizzle a bit of sauce right from the packet or container instead of dipping the roll directly in it.  A little bit of salt and sweet combined never hurt a soul, did it? Sea-salt toffee anyone?
            Well, with my great experience and ample practice, I managed to make the perfect combination of soy and eel sauces which tickled my tongue in the most pleasant of ways. In addition the cucumbers remained surprisingly crisp despite the long expanse of time from creation to consumption. The eel however could not meet the same standard. Though eel (especially the way the Japanese prepare it) always has a tendency to be chewy, the long refrigeration period left the meat very rubbery in texture. But nevertheless, the roll was redeemed by the sesame seeds on top, which resulted in a somewhat earthy aftertaste and a satisfying crunch.
            Additionally, I eat a piece of pickled ginger after every bite serves to cleanse the palette. This is so that in between each bite of sushi, your taste buds ‘forget’ the flavours of the previous bite, so you experience the unique burst of flavor again and again for multiple first taste experiences!  A+ idea Japan.

Overall, the entire sushi experience was not ideal, but did its justice nonetheless.

Taste (with condiments): **** ½
Texture: **½
Tummy Happiness: ***½