African-Inspired Peanut Soup

Above the African desert in a four seater plane, the world feels so different. Expansive, vast, a gentle place, where winds work hard to carve and shape the earth at their whim.

After 30 minutes of flight, the vista changed so dramatically. It was unnerving but also calming to witness.  What was going through my mind?  I remember.

Where am I from? Where am I going? 

How did we get here?

How does this exist? 

I'm as small as a grain of sand way down there. 

The water will wash it all away. 

My thoughts like to wander as much as my body.  Lately, I've been soaring over Namibia again, away from the quotidian workings of my mind: What's for lunch, what's for dinner, what fun toddler activities will I orchestrate today? 

But no, really, what is for dinner?  I can't daydream all day.  Back down to earth I come.  I remember the flavors of Namibia and recall a peanut soup.

If you can make it to Africa in this lifetime, I whole-heartedly recommend a fly-in safari in Namibia.  In the  event that such a trip is not possible in the next few decades, make this soup. It will tide you over, without all the existential searching. 

African Inspired Peanut Soup

4 servings

The beauty of this soup is threefold.  First, you have a surprising twist on a chicken soup (the peanut). Then you have extremely bright vegetables.  By steaming them briefly you will not overcook them. Lastly, the garnishes add bursts of tangy flavor.  And the chicken is so incredibly tender you can't help but love this dish.  Interestingly, neither the jalapeño nor the serrano peppers made this soup spicy, which was my intention.  I removed the seeds, because seeds would not be nice in a soup, and of course therein lies the spice.

1 1/2 pounds chicken breast

1/2 cup of flour (to make this gluten free, use 1/4 cup corn starch)

2 Tablespoons curry powder

1 teaspoon salt

freshly ground pepper

1/4 cup olive oil

3 cloves of garlic, minced

1 serrano or 2 jalapeño peppers, seeded and minced

5 cups chicken broth

1/4 cup natural peanut butter (fine to use either chunky or smooth)

1 stalk of broccoli
1 red pepper

Garnish: 

4 green onions, chopped

Handful of cilantro, chopped

1 lime cut into wedges

Cut the chicken breast into bite size chunks, about 2 inches each.  Mix the flour (or cornstarch) with the curry powder, salt and pepper in a shallow bowl.  Working in 2 or 3 batches, dredge the chicken pieces in the flour/curry mixture.  Heat the olive oil in a soup pot over medium heat.  Again working in batches, sauté the chicken (do not crowd it in the pot) for 2 minutes each side.  Remove and continue this until all the chicken has been sautéed.  Be careful not overcook it- really, just 2 minutes per side. Remove all the chicken from the pot and set aside for later.

In the same pot, over medium to low heat, cook the garlic and serrano pepper for about 1 minute.  Add the peanut butter and stir to melt, then add the broth.  Cover the pot and cook for 15 minutes.  

Meanwhile, as broth simmers, cut the broccoli into florets and the red pepper into chunks or strips.  Steam the vegetables until just tender, making sure they retain their vibrant color.  

Add the chicken pieces to the broth, again over a low simmer and cook for an additional 15 minutes.  (Set your timer, this will ensure extremely  tender chicken.)

The soup is ready to be served.  Just ladle the chicken and peanut broth into shallow bowl, top with broccoli and red pepper, and garnish with scallion, cilantro and lime wedges.  

Ginger Molasses Cookies and kitchen meditations

I baked a cookie and it took me to the other side of the world to a dry lake bed in Sossusvlei, Namibia. That's some cookie.

Food often triggers memories of loved ones, childhood, or far off places through its scent and flavor. The act of cooking itself can be meditative.  Sometimes I focus solely on my hands. Other times, my mind wanders to its depths and I revisit a special time or place in my life.  With a little imagination, the foods I create can take me anywhere I want with a little game of visual association.

Seeing the cracked appearance of these ginger molasses cookies instantly made me recall the parched earth at the bottom of the world's biggest sand dune.  So I thought I'd tell you about it, and give you the recipe so you can experience it for yourself.

It was a cold morning in remote Southern Namibia when we set out with a guide to climb the dune known as Big Daddy. It was a quiet hike, our feet sliding into the iron rich sand as we advanced steadily to the top.  It felt like what I imagine it would be like to walk on Mars, with the alien landscape and the hue of the red sand.  We were so small in the face of the mammoth dunes that stretched and curved like dinosaur spines as far as the eye could see. Was this nature imitating art or the other way around, we asked ourselves.

Then, from the top, we ran down the side of the 380 meter (1,246 feet) dune, breathless and unafraid of falling.

So why not let a cookie be more than just a sweet indulgence? Put on your hiking boots and take a bite.

Ginger Molasses Cookies
Make sure your spices are very fresh and these fragrant cookies will truly liven your senses.

About 50 large cookies

4 1/2 cups unbleached flour
4 teaspoons baking soda
2 teaspoons cinnamon
4 teaspoons ginger
1 teaspoon cloves
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 pound brown sugar
1-1/2 cups shortening
2 eggs
1/2 cup molasses
granulated sugar

Sift the flour with the soda, spices and salt.

Cream sugar and shortening until light and fluffy.  Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition.

Beat in molasses, stir in sifted ingredients. (Note: for some reason I had to knead the dough together with my hands, but they still came out fine.)

Drop by rounded tablespoons into a bowl of sugar. Place on baking sheet,  (greased, or lined with parchment or a silpat) sugar side up, about 2 inches apart.

Bake in a pre-heated 350 degree oven 11 - 13 minutes.  Cool on racks.

Skeleton Coast, Namibia

My little family is on the verge of great changes, enduring the waiting period before another adventure, a life in New York City. This July we've been enjoying the bounty of summer fruits and vegetables, but without a real kitchen to call my own (all of our belongings are in storage before we get to New York) food blogging is regrettably on hold. While waiting out the transition, I'm taking stock of a few legendary trips we've taken. It's always good to stop and pause before taking another leap.

The Skeleton Coast lies on the Northwest corner of Namibia, Africa and gets only about 100 visitors a year. A few years ago, we were among those few and we knew that it was the trip of a lifetime. We embarked on a fly-in safari from the capital, Windhoek on a 2 passenger plane and landed on a strip of sand where we were met by a 4x4 that took us to our first camp.

There was something powerful about being in such a remote place surrounded by natural beauty unlike any we had ever seen. Virtually alone, with just a few guides and two other couples, we all set out each morning to experience this rugged and breathtaking land. The Skeleton Coast is a 500 km stretch along the coastline of Namibia, which got its name from the scores of shipwrecks that took place there. Whale bones and wood from the wrecks are still part of the scenery on the shores. These bones and debris are actually protected as part of the National Park, and interestingly enough, Namibia was the first country to write Nature Conservation into their constitution.

My mind goes back to Namibia when we're driving the super highways around the DC metropolitan area, past strip malls and giant suburban sprawl. It's almost unfathomable that two such shockingly different places can exist on the same planet. Namibia's mega dunes, salt-brines and grand mountains are vast and practically untouched by man. The sands are gem-laced and life is everywhere, from the tiniest lichen to the huge seal colonies, endless varieties of birds, reptiles, and the elegant oryx thumping across the plains.

We visited a small community of Himba, an ethnic group of 20,000-50,000 nomadic and pastoral people living in Northern Namibia. I think of the Himba women often. These families in their simplicity and togetherness are a true community in every sense of the word, one that I do not belong to, nor could I seek to recreate in this modern world of mine. But I look to their example in keeping Roman close to me just as they raise their children. I feel lucky to have witnessed even a brief moment of their lives for their impact on me was profound.

Our last night back at Camp before leaving the Coast, we were treated to a Namibian style "braai" (grill) complete with local meats, the spring bok and oryx, as well as bread baked on the grill. We sat down to eat feeling wistful as the staff spoke the names of the foods in each of their African languages. The clicks and singsong quality of their voices rose up into the black sky that hung low like an onyx curtain, thick with stars. We ate the meal humbled by all that we had seen, savoring the flavors of the braai and trying to imprint those memories deep into our minds so that wherever we go, we carry them still.

Notes:

The Himba people are featured in this documentary.

Our trip was planned through the ecotourism company Wilderness Safaris.