Cocoa Short Ribs

Braised short ribs are a classic French preparation and I've seen many a continental and Asian twist on the form. Working on my new book--a culinary mystery with recipes--I came up with this version as part of a five course meal served at a posh fictional dinner party in Port of Spain. Precious Trinidad cocoa, among the finest and most sought after in the world, make up the rich flavor that is the backbone of the dish. I suggest serving it with "stiff polenta" or Coo Coo as we call it: cornmeal with okra.  Enjoy.

Trinidad Cocoa Short Ribs

 Makes 6 to 8 servings

2 tablespoons canola oil

6 pounds bone-in short ribs

1 1/2 cups finely chopped onions

1/4 cup finely chopped shallots

1/4 cup finely chopped celery

1/4 cup finely chopped peeled carrots

3 garlic cloves, minced

1 cups dry red wine

1 cup good quality dark rum, such as Trinidad Royal oak

1 tablespoon Angostura Bitters

3 cups low-salt chicken broth

2 cups chopped drained canned diced tomatoes

2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

1 very large fresh thyme sprig

2 leaves Mexican culantro (shado beni) chopped roughly

1 bay leaf

1 cinnamon stick

3 tablespoons shaved or grated bittersweet Triniatario chocolate such as AMadei Trinidad Dark bar

2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder (preferably Dutch-process)

1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh rosemary

1.     1. Heat heavy large pot over medium heat. Add canola oil. Sprinkle ribs with salt and pepper. Working in batches, brown ribs in pot over medium-high heat until brown on all sides, about 8 minutes per batch. Transfer to plate.

2.   2.   Add onions and next 4 ingredients to pot. Cover, reduce heat to medium, and cook until vegetables are soft, stirring occasionally, about 10 minutes. Add wine, rum and Angostura Bitters. Boil uncovered until liquid is reduced by half, scraping up browned bits, about 5 minutes.

3.     3. Add broth, tomatoes, parsley, thyme, culantro (shado beni), bay leaf, and cinnamon. Return ribs to pot, cover partially, and simmer 1 1/2 hours. Uncover and simmer until rib meat is tender, stirring occasionally, about 1 1/2 hours longer.

4.    4.  Transfer ribs to plate; discard bay leaf and cinnamon stick. Spoon fat from surface of sauce. Boil sauce until beginning to thicken, about 8 minutes. Reduce heat to medium.

5.   5.   Add chocolate, cocoa powder, and rosemary; stir until chocolate melts. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Return ribs to pot. Simmer to rewarm, about 5 minutes.

Coo Coo (Stiff Polenta with Okra)

4 servings

This thick cornmeal cake is a delicious if heavy side dish that is ideal for sopping up the juices of stewed meats.

1 cup coconut milk

12 okras, stemmed and sliced into 1/2-inch pieces, or 1 cup frozen, sliced okra

1 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1 cup cornmeal

1.  Lightly grease a 2-quart bowl and set aside.

 2. Mix 1 cup of water and the coconut milk in a saucepan. Add the okra and bring to a boil. Lower the heat to a simmer and cook until soft, about 5 minutes.

3. Add the salt and black pepper, and mix well Add the cornmeal slowly, mixing constantly. Continue stirring vigorously while cooking over medium-low heat. Cook until the mixture holds a stiff peak, about 15 to 20 minutes.

4. Pour into the greased bowl and smooth the top. Allow to set for 1 to 2 minutes, then invert onto a plate. Slice and serve. 

How To Make Rice

Rice is a huge staple in Trinidadian cuisine. This is because of the huge (nearly 50%) East Indian descent population that lives on the island. Growing up, we ate rice nearly every day. This was not only because of Trinidad heritage but because my mother was Iranian--another culture that could exist on rice alone.

Being of mixed rice stock, I've learned one thing. While others may eat rice prodigiously, Iranians are easily the master rice makers of the world. As a result, I use the Iranian rice-cooking method whenever I make this grain--even in classic Caribbean cuisine. The method can vary from complex to fairly simple. Chelo, a method that requires washing and presoaking the rice, then parboiling and steaming, takes time and patience but produces beautiful results. However, the short method, which still requires washing, but less cooking time is incredibly easy and virtually no fail for fluffy grains--as long as it is followed precisely.

Here is the simple method--called kateh in Farsi. The real key is to make sure the rice is washed well. Additionally, I use high quality basmati rice, and Lal Qilla brand is my favorite.

Plain Rice

1 1/2 cup basmati or other long grain white rice

2 teaspoon canola oil or ghee

1 1/2 teaspoon salt

 

1.     Place rice in a deep bowl and add enough cold water to cover by 1 or 2 inches. Swirl rice around with your hand until the water becomes cloudy and then gently pour off the water being careful not to pour out the rice. Repeat this process 2-3 times or until the rice washing water runs clear. Drain rice.

2.     Place rice in a 2 quart saucepan (preferably nonstick)  and add enough water to cover the rice by 1/2 inch from its surface.

3.     Add the canola oil or ghee and the salt. Mix well and place over a medium heat.

4.     When the rice begins to simmer, mix well one more time and watch carefully. When almost all the water is absorbed and “crab holes” begin to form in the rice, lower heat to low and place a doubled up paper towel or  clean dish towel over the top of the pot. Place the pot lid firmly over this, pressing down to make a tight seal.

5.     Cook rice, allowing it to steam, for 15-20 minutes more. Remove lid and fluff. 

 

How To Crack A Coconut

Last week I did a post about my friend Nancie McDermott's luscious coconut cake. Another friend, and former student Roger Kimpton, asked how one exactly cracks a coconut. In response, I am posting the essay on how to do just this, from my book Sweet Hands: Island Cooking from Trinidad & Tobago. Once the coconut is cracked and peeled, you can grate on a box grater or using a food processor's grater wheel.




Photo, courtesy ehow.com

Watching my father crack open a coconut was one of the most terrifying experiences of my childhood. Like most West Indians, my father split the coconut’s hard shell with a long cutlass, wide and curved at the tip and nearly two feet long. It resembled something out of Aladdin and it was scary.

If the coconut was green—a delicacy only to be had on trips to Trinidad—he would hold it in his palm and level its head with the cutlass in a smooth slicing motion. Or, he might take angular chops around the crown.

The purpose of either method cut was to create an opening large enough to pour out the sweet young coconut water, which is said to have high nutritional value, especially for pregnant women with morning sickness. After the water is drained, the coconut jelly is scooped out and eaten with a spoon fashioned from the chopped shell. This jelly is what hardens into the white coconut flesh as the fruit ages.

If the coconut was already aged, removing it from the green outer husk required deep slashes with the cutlass and then enormous strength to peel away the skin. In the States we only got dry, husked coconuts—if we were lucky—in the supermarket, but more often on a trip to the Caribbean neighborhoods of Brooklyn and Queens. Today, both green coconuts and dry coconuts are readily available in many gourmet supermarkets.

To crack a dry coconut, my father again pulled out that cutlass. He held the coconut in one hand and whacked down on it with the cutlass held in the other. Every time he did this, I was sure he would cut himself, or worse, cut off his hand. He never did. Wielding a cutlass is a talent that Trinidadians seem to manage with aplomb.

I myself am far too afraid to have anything to do with cutlasses, machetes, or butcher knives screaming toward objects held in my opposite hand--so I’ve developed my own method for draining and cracking coconuts.

Dry coconuts have three “eyes,” one of which is always soft and easily pierced with a paring knife. Sometimes a second eye can be pierced as well, but this is less often the case. Once the eye is pierced, I invert the coconut onto a heavy glass or pitcher that can prop up the fruit while catching the draining liquid. I reserve this water for flavorings in breads and sauces.

To crack the coconut, I leave it in a 400°F degree oven until the heat cracks the hard shell. Granted, this does change the flavor of the coconut a bit, but it is fine for baked goods since the grated coconut will be cooked anyway.

When whole coconuts can’t be had, I opt for packaged, unsweetened shredded coconut—fresh-frozen is better than dry and is easily found in Middle Eastern, Indian, and Caribbean markets. Coconut water is also available canned. Goya is one popular brand.

Strong Drink

My friend John Field is a rum lover which, in my opinion, puts him ahead of the curve. I've long said that boutique sipping rums are the next big drink trend. Think of it it in the way high-end tequila  and vodka have become de rigeur. I wrote about this  a few years back for epicurious.com but given that the  rum is finally getting its day, I think the article bears reposting here. You'll find some tips on boutique rums, pairings with chocolate, and more than a bit of its  rumbunctious  history.

Since the article was written a number of American rum manufacturers have hit the scene including Tuthilltown Spirits (New York); Graham Barnes (Texas); Celebration Distilleries (New Orleans);  Newport Distilling (Rhode Island) and many more which you can read about at one of the best sources for rum on the web or elsewhere: Ministry of Rum.

Surprised? You shouldn't be. Rum was not originally a major product of the Caribbean--until Bacardi came on the scene. Sugar cane was shipped to the American colonies were it was to be processed into sugar but more often became rum. Rum was a distinctly North American drink. These distillers are just reprising a historical movement. To learn more read on, and have a try at my new drink recipe below. It's as yet untested--let me know what you think!

 

 

Born to Rum

Discover a Caribbean revival
By Ramin Ganeshram

L ong before tiki glasses or cocktails topped with bright paper umbrellas hit the scene, rum was a cultural power player. The quintessential New World spirit, rum has colonial origins that well predate other liquors of the Americas, such as bourbon or American whiskeys.
In its 400-plus years of production, this spirit has been everything from currency to political trump card, and not only its history is complex. Today, rum may be best known as the single most-mixed liquor in the bartending world, but many distillers are returning to the libation's rich history of refined production by creating aged, specialty, and hand-mixed rums that even the most sophisticated liquor connoisseur can enjoy.

A Sweet History

When Christopher Columbus first brought sugarcane to the Caribbean, little did he know that he was also revolutionizing the drinking world. It didn't take long for producers to realize that they could ferment the molasses that was a by-product of sugar production then distill it into a high-proof flavored spirit called "rum"—most likely a contraction of the word "rumbullion," meaning strong liquor.
So popular was this new drink that it became the basis for a wide variety of beverages, including punches; the demand for it skyrocketed. The British Royal Navy even issued a private rum to all its sailors. This daily ration of Pusser's British Navy Rum, called "grog," was comprised of agricole rums (made by fermenting free-run sugarcane juice) from several locales including Trinidad, Guyana, and the British Virgin Islands. It remained a tradition for three centuries, until 1970, and is available on the general market today.
The demand for rum was so great that at one point the British had to enact laws to ensure that cane was not entirely consumed to make rum but also used to make sugar, for which it was the primary source.
In those early days, a good portion of rum production occurred outside the West Indies. Distillers in Britain and the colonies in New England purchased molasses and made rum on-site. The rum served a twofold purpose: a medium both for trade with Native Americans and for export to Europe, which in turn bartered it for human cargo.
Seeking cheaper sources for their molasses, the Americans began to buy a treaclelike by-product from the French and Portuguese colonies, thereby undercutting their motherland counterparts. To limit these activities, the Crown placed heavy taxes on molasses imports in a series of acts that were the actual basis for the movement toward independence.
Post-Revolution free access to West Indian molasses was short-lived. British naval blockades during the War of 1812 heralded the death of the American rum industry. The majority of rum production reverted to the American South, while Australia, Hawaii, and Tahiti produced rums of their own.

More than a Mai Tai

In its earliest days, rum was most often used in mixed beverages and punch for a reason: It was simply too rough on the palate to sip enjoyably. As production, aging, and flavoring processes improved, a more sophisticated variety of rums came to the fore.
By the early 19th century, a continuous-distillation process was perfected in England, replacing the old method of pot-still aging. The result was a nearly tasteless but uniform product that could be enhanced by flavoring and coloring methods as well as oak-cask aging for at least one year.
Some decades later, in Cuba during the 1860s, Don Facundo Bacardi founded what was to one day become a rum empire. Perfecting white rum for mixing, as well as aged, sipping rums, the Bacardi firm eventually moved to Puerto Rico and continues to make the majority of rum consumed in the United States and elsewhere.
Among the types of mass-produced rums are light rums, also called white or silver, which are like vodka—clear, odorless, and nearly flavorless. Distillers sometimes filter light rums or age them in stainless-steel tanks to achieve purity. Gold or amber rums are aged in oak and sometimes spiced by infusing the rum with a variety of ingredients, including cinnamon and nutmeg. Caramel or other food coloring can be added to achieve the right hue. Dark or black rum is aged in charred barrels and features a molasses or burnt-sugar overtone. It is the type of rum most often used in culinary preparations.
"Over-proof" or "puncheon" rums, typically unavailable in the United States, have alcohol content of greater than 75 percent and are often the basis for strong rum punches. Cachaça, Brazilian rum made from free-run cane juice, is aged lightly in fruitwood casks.
Yet, even as mechanization created more consistent products, premium or añejo (aged) rums maintained a certain niche. Made in limited quantities, each is often a hand-drawn product of several rums that is carefully mixed and then aged in oak. Aged rums have corks rather than screw caps. Pot-still fermentation, which creates richer flavor, fuller body, and darker tone, is also a characteristic of premium rums.

A New Mix

A relatively untouched industry since its inception, rum has in recent years (like vodka) gone through new incarnations, including versions flavored with coconut, pineapple, citrus, and apple. These head primarily into mixed drinks. Companies such as Angostura Limited of Trinidad, makers of the world-famous bitters, are now bottling rum punch in a variety of flavors for commercial sale, as well as specialty products like Rum Cream, made from rum, spices, and heavy cream.
Just as premium tequila now enjoys a following among gourmands, boutique brands of premium rums are rapidly gaining a place in the market among connoisseurs. Jamaica's Appleton Estate 21-year-aged and V/X rums fall into this category. So do Anguilla Pyrat Cask 23, blended from fine rums aged up to 40 years, Haiti's Rhum Barbancourt, released in limited quantity, and Trinidad's Angostura 1824, a dark rum aged 12 years.
Whatever your preference—rums for mixing or sipping—take the time to taste the rum as you would wine, exploring its many complexities of flavor, aroma, and color.

Recommended Rums

Most drinkers are quite familiar with white and amber rums used primarily for mixed drinks. Varieties from Bacardi and Captain Morgan are solid examples of the type.
Below is a roundup of some excellent premium rums that rival cognacs, single-malt scotches, and aged tequila for sipping.
Bacardi 8 Reserve ($22)
Deep, clear-amber, Cuban-style mixed rum from Puerto Rico. An excellent introduction to sipping rums that tasters will find has the familiar Bacardi Gold taste, although fuller-bodied, with smoother finish.
Pusser's British Navy Rum ($25)
Light copper color, similar in hue and depth to brandy. This full but mellow rum from Trinidad, Guyana, and British Virgin Islands has a delicately spicy nose.
Rhum Barbancourt 15-Year Reserve ($34)
Dark, reddish gold from Haiti, it has lightly spiced notes and a pleasantly sharp finish.
Santa Teresa, Antigua de Solera Rum ($37)
Dry rum from Venezuela with hints of vanilla, cinnamon, and nutmeg.
Angostura 1824 ($44)
Hand-drawn and casked, this Trinidadian is aged in charred oak casks for 12 years. Its rich flavor and sweet nose is bottled in a handblown glass decanter.
Neisson Rum Agricole Reserve Special ($70)
Blended and aged in oak barrels, this Martinique-made rum has a prominent taste of dark fruit and nuts.
Appleton Estate 21-Year-Old Rum ($100)
Hand-blended, using rums aged a minimum of 21 years. Made in Jamaica, it has a medium body, with delicate nose and easy finish.
Pyrat Cask 23 ($300)
More like cognac than rum: It is a hand-mixed combination of fine, aged rums from throughout the Caribbean. It has a limited production, is bottled in handblown glass, and packaged in incense cedar.

An Uncommon Pairing: Rum & Chocolate

Like rum, chocolate is a product of the Caribbean, and, like sugarcane, cocoa plants are highly affected by the specific terroir in which they are grown. As a result, premium single-source chocolate made with a high percentage of the delicate and rare Criollo bean or the highly prized Trinitario bean can make for a simple yet excellent dessert pairing with fine rum. Try Pyrat's Cask 23 with a nibble of Grenada Chocolate Company's 71-percent Dark Chocolate, or taste Valrhona's Gran Couva, made with authentic Trinidadian Trinitario beans, with a snifter of Angostura 1824. Rhum Barbancourt is well matched with Michel Cluizel's Hacienda Los Ancones 67-percent-cacao squares.

Bitters Revenge

4 (6 ounce) servings

1 cup package soursop (guanabana) pulp, thawed

1 cup evaporated milk

1/2 cup Angostura 1919 Rum

1/2 cup Amarula Liquor

2 tablespoons sweetened condensed milk

2 tablespoons Angostura Bitters

1/8 teaspoon, cayenne pepper powder

Pink Himalayan salt for garnish

Place all the ingredients in a blender with 2 cups crushed ice and puree until smooth. Serve in Margarita or Hurricane glasses. Garnish each drink with a few crystals of Pink Salt.

 

Resurrection: Haiti

Today is Easter, the day of the resurrection. Even if you aren't Christian, the rising of the earth again in spring is cause for great celebrations. We Persians (the other half of my heritage) mark are biggest holiday on the Spring Equinox. The renewal of the land is a holy experience for us all--regardless of religion.

One land that is in most desperate need of renewal--both figurative and literal is our sister island of Haiti. The misery and devastation of the January 12 earthquake goes on and waves of aid are still needed. Please remember Haiti today and consider donating to worthy charities like the UN World Food Programme that is doing on the ground work on the island to feed the hungry. Food4Haiti, a nonprofit organization I founded with some amazing women here in Westport: Edina Field, Maria Proto, Ellen DeHuff and Dana Silverstein in NY is still working to raise funds for Haiti Food relief as well.

Whether you can send funds or send prayers, all help is appreciated and will be needed for some time to come. Perhaps the greatest gift will be to one day think of Haiti in its beauty and renewal rather than its ruins.

So, here's a toast to that sweet day: A recipe for Haitian Peanut Brittle.

Haitian Peanut Brittle

1/2 cup water 1 cup light corn syrup 1/8 teaspoon salt 2 cups peanut halves, roasted 5 tablespoons grated fresh ginger, or 1 tablespoon ground ginger 2 cups light brown sugar 1/2 teaspoon mixed essence 2 tablespoons butter, softened 1 teaspoon baking soda

1. Grease a large cookie sheet. Set aside. 2. In a heavy 4 quart saucepan, bring water, corn syrup, salt, peanuts, ginger and sugar to a boil, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon. Clamp a candy thermometer on the side of the pan and cook on medium heat until the thermometer registers 300 degrees F. 3. Remove from heat and mix in the mixed essence, butter and baking soda. The mixture will fizz up, continue stirirng vigorously for 30 seconds. 4. Drop by tablespoonfuls onto the cookie sheet an cool completely. Store in an airtight container. Makes about 2 pounds of brittle

The Good (Friday) Fish

My dad was born on Good Friday, April 5, 1924 so the day holds a special place in my heart, over and above any religious significance.

In his home island of Trinidad, religion is almost a mix and match affair. It's not uncommon to see a Hindu puja altar equally crowded with Christian saints. Korans and Bibles co-exist in many a home, because of the cultural amalgam that is par for the course in our culture. For those religious Christians (particularly in the Lenten season) keeping with the tradition of fish on Friday is pretty easy in our laden island waters.

While seafood recipes can be quite elaborate in the West Indies, this fried fish recipe is fairly common on most islands, and one which my dad made often, not just on Good Friday. For my money, the best fish fryers are found in Barbados. Oistin Town's Fish Fry, every Friday night, is part outdoor market (that morning's catch is what's hitting the oil) and part festival where cold beer, hot fish, and plenty of spice keep the mood high. In Jamaica, you won't find fresher fish that at Prendy's On the Beach, a bar/fish stand in Hellshire village. Proprietor Donnette Prendergast's husband is a career fisherman, and he docks on the beach that fronts the restaurant throughout the day, with his fresh catch. You can read more about Prendy's as part of my article The Flavor of Jamaica for Islands Magazine

Fried Fish

6 servings

The best fish for this recipe is flying fish, a sweet fish found largely in the waters between Tobago and Barbados. Flying fish can sometimes be found frozen in West Indian markets, but if you can’t find it, substitute any firm-fleshed white fish fillet, such as tilapia or catfish.

Fish

2 pounds flying fish fillets (or other firm-fleshed white fish)

2 tablespoons green seasoning (recipe below)

1 teaspoon garlic powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

Freshly ground black pepper to taste

Breading

1 1/2 cups dry bread crumbs

1 teaspoon dried, ground oregano

1 teaspoon dried parsley

1/2 teaspoon dried thyme

1/2 teaspoon paprika

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon garlic powder

1 teaspoon onion powder

1/2 cup canola oil, for frying

Sliced tomato for garnish (optional)

Lime wedges, for garnish (optional)

1. Rinse the fish and pat dry. Mix the green seasoning with the garlic powder, salt, and black pepper, then rub into the fish. Place the fish in a nonreactive dish, covered in the refrigerator for 20 minutes.

2. For the breading, mix all the ingredients in a shallow bowl.

3. Remove the fish from the refrigerator and dip in the breading mixture, coating both sides of each fillet evenly. Place the fillets on a clean plate and refrigerate again for 15 minutes.

1. Heat the oil in a deep frying pan and add the fish fillets, frying until golden brown on both sides. Do not crowd the pan. Remove and drain on a wire rack set over a baking sheet or on paper towels.
2.  Serve on a platter garnished with the tomato slices and lime wedges, with peas and rice (recipe below), or a green salad, or on sandwich rolls.

Paramin Green Seasoning

Makes 1 cup

The area of Paramin, perched breathtakingly high atop the mountains of Trinidad’s Northern Range, is the herb basket of the country. The steeply sloped hillsides and cool mountain air, make the region ideal for growing herbs like shado beni, chives, thyme, and parsley. The Creole-descent farmers who cultivate these plants are the go-to guys for every Trinidadian cook, since their spices are an absolute necessity for the local pantry. The addition of shallots, onions, and vinegar, and the omission of oregano, makes it a bit different from standard green seasoning although you can substitute one for the another.

4 large shallots, peeled, and coarsely chopped

1 bunch chives, minced (about 1 cup)

1 small bunch fresh thyme, minced (about 1/4 cup)
1/4 cup stemmed and chopped flat leaf parsley

2 tablespoons minced shado beni or cilantro

1 medium-size onion, peeled and coarsely chopped

4 cloves garlic

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 tablespoons white vinegar

1. Place all the ingredients in the bowl of a food processor or blender and puree, adding vinegar as needed to achieve a smooth, somewhat liquid paste.
2. Store in a sealed container in the refrigerator for up to 1 week.

Pigeon Peas and Rice

Makes 8 servings

Often simply called “peas and rice” this dish can be a meal unto itself with the addition of salt pork or ham. Even omitting the meat, peas and rice form a complete protein—a vegetarian’s delight. You may want to increase the amount of salt if you omit the salt pork.

1 1/2 cups dry or 1 (15-ounce) can pigeon peas or pinto beans

1 tablespoon canola oil

1/2 pound salt pork or cured ham, cut into 1/2-inch cubes (optional)

1 small onion, chopped

1 small green bell pepper, stemmed, seeded, and chopped

1 small red bell pepper, stemmed, seeded, and copped

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 teaspoon chopped parsley

1 sprig thyme

2 cups long-grain rice

1/2 Scotch bonnet pepper, stemmed, seeded, and minced

1 teaspoon salt or to taste

1. If using dry beans, soak them overnight in 5 1/2 cups of cold water. Drain and set aside. If using canned beans, rinse well under cold running water and set aside.
2. Heat the oil in a deep saucepan and add the salt pork. Fry for 1 minute. Add the onion and fry for 1 minute more, then add the green and red bell pepper. Sauté until the onions are soft, then stir in the garlic. Cook for 30 seconds.
3. Add the peas, parsley, and thyme, and stir well to combine.
4. Wash the rice by placing it in a deep bowl and adding enough cold water to cover. Swirl the rice with your hand until the water is cloudy and then pour off the water, taking care not pour out the rice. Repeat 3-4 times or until the washing water becomes clear. Gently stir in the rice so as not to break the rice grains. Add enough water to rise above the surface of the rice mixture by 1/2 inch, about 2 1/2 cups.
5. Stir in the salt and reduce the heat to a low simmer. Cook, covered, for 30 minutes, or until the rice is cooked but not sticky. All the water should be absorbed.
6. Fluff with a fork and remove the thyme. Spoon the rice onto a serving platter. Garnish with fresh thyme sprigs if desired.

Crazy for Coconut

Coconut is my hands down favorite flavor of all time. I don't like ice cream, for example: except for coconut. If you present me a dish of ingredients I'd normally shun, and tell me it also has coconut,  I'll give it a second look.  That's the great thing about being Caribbean: coconut is, to us, what vanilla is to the rest of the world. So, a trip "home" to Trinidad means that I can eat all the coconut bread, ice cream, cookies, candies, shakes and otherwise you-name-its that I want.

The one thing I really love about Easter here at my real home in the US,  is the seasonal appreciation for a good coconut cake, particularly among my Southern friends.  I'm not quite sure why coconut cake is an Easter fave--except perhaps that its complexity and use of the once-rare ingredient of coconut would have made for a special holiday confection. Or maybe the fluffy white frosting with coconut flakes called to mind a fluffy white lamb.

I can't really answer the question, but maybe my friend Nancie McDermott, cookbook author extraordinaire can. Her book Southern Cakes: Sweet and Irresistible recipes for Every Day Occasions should not be missed. Like all of her books (and there are many) every recipe is perfect and perfectly delectable--plus she's an all around great gal.

You can try her recipe for Classic Coconut Cake below, it's a staple at our house. And you can learn more about Nancie, including her library of stupendous books here.


Classic Coconut Cake

from Southern Cakes by Nancie McDermott

3	cups all-purpose flour
2	teaspoons baking powder
½	teaspoon salt
1	teaspoon vanilla extract
1	cup milk, or juice from a fresh coconut plus enough milk added to make 1 cup
1	cup (2 sticks) butter, softened
2	cups sugar
4	eggs
	White Mountain coconut icing (recipe follows)
3	cups freshly grated coconut or sweetened shredded coconut

Preheat oven to 350 F. Grease and flour two 9-inch cake pans and set aside. In a medium bowl, combine the flour, baking powder and salt and use a fork to mix them together. Stir the vanilla into the milk.
In a large bowl, beat the softened butter with a mixer at medium speed until creamy. Add the sugar and continue beating, stopping to scrape down the sides, until the mixture is light and evenly combined. Add the eggs, one by one, beating well each time, until the mixture is thick and smooth.

Add about 1/3 of the flour mixture to the batter and beat well at low speed. Then add about half the milk to the batter, beating well. Continue beating as you add another third of the flour mixture, followed by the rest of the milk, and then the remaining flour mixture, beating well each time until the batter is very thick and smooth. Quickly scrape the batter into the prepared cake pans, dividing it evenly, and place them in the oven.

Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, until the cakes are golden-brown, spring back when touched lightly in the center, and begin to pull away from the sides of the pans.
Remove from the oven and cool in the pans on wire racks or folded kitchen towels for 10 minutes. Then turn out the cakes onto wire racks or plates, turn the layers top side up and cool completely. You could also split the layers horizontally to make 4 thin layers of cake.

Make White Mountain coconut icing; set aside.

To ice the cake, place one cake layer, top side down, on a cake stand or serving plate. Cover it generously with icing and sprinkle with some of the coconut. Place the second layer on top of the iced layer, top side up. First, ice the sides to help keep the cake steady, and then spread icing generously over the top, completely covering the cake.

Place the cake stand or serving plate on a cookie sheet to catch loose coconut as you shower the cake. Sprinkle coconut all over the cake, and then gently pat handfuls of coconut onto the sides and top to cover bare spots. Transfer leftover coconut to a jar or resealable plastic bag and store it in the freezer. Makes 8 to 10 servings.



White Mountain coconut icing: Stir 1 cup sugar into 1/2 cup water to dissolve it. Bring the mixture to a gentle boil and cook without stirring for 3 minutes. Then boil for 5 to 10 minutes more, stirring often, until the syrup has thickened and will form itself into a thread about 2 inches long when poured from a spoon back into the pot. Set the syrup aside.
Beat 2 egg whites in a large bowl with a mixer at high speed until they are bright white, shiny and pillow into voluminous clouds. While beating at high speed, slowly pour the cooked syrup into the egg whites to blend them into a fluffy white icing, 4 to 5 minutes.