"What do I do with the sausage?" my partner asks. He's making
a chorizo-and-chicken dish, and these two ingredients, now
browned, sit on a plate beside the stove. "The book says 'Return
the chicken to the pan,'" he continues, adding plaintively,
"nothing about the sausage". When a recipe is confusing, doesn't
look like the picture, or tastes less than stellar, don't
necessarily blame yourself. Blame (in this case) the
internationally famous chef who forgot to write down all the
steps. The problem doubles when amateur cooks share their
favourite dishes and becomes a profound challenge when a home
cook is describing a dish in English when that isn't his or her
first language.
Behind the most reliable cookbooks are recipe testers who
check, refine, and interpret ingredients and instructions so that
the rest have us can re-create a specific dish, be it Singapore
Steamboat, Danish Meatballs, or Moira's Sri Lankan Cashew-Nut
Curry. These are just some of the 100 dishes in Flavours of
Vancouver: Dishes From Around the World (Douglas & McIntyre,
$24.95; partial proceeds go to Save the Children Canada).
The recipe tester, one of the key people behind a cookbook's
success, is usually given, at most, a tiny mention in the overall
credits, but in Flavours of Vancouver, Joan Cross shares
front-cover honours with co-compiler Sheila Peacock. Largely
self-taught, Cross says she learned most of her culinary skills
from the books of Julia Child, whose directions were so
meticulous that they often run to several pages. Cross brought
the same rigorous discipline to this particular project. Leafing
through a fat three-ring binder of CBC listeners' recipes, she
notes: "They put things down like 'handfuls', which is the kind
of thing you do when you hand down recipes." "Large cans" (of
unspecified size) and "Use as much flour as needed" were other
instructions Cross had to contend with. "You need an
explanation," she says. "Is the mixture soupy or soft or sticky
or stiff? You need to know the consistency." Sometimes
ingredients were listed and never mentioned again. "A lot of it,"
she says, "is because of different languages."
"The cookbook's purpose was to celebrate the diversity of
Vancouver," says CBC producer Sheila Peacock, describing how she
set the project in motion by putting the word out for entries on
four Vancouver-produced radio shows. "The premise was a favourite
family recipe and the story behind it, or a favourite recipe
you've found on your travels and brought home to share. It had to
have the personal stamp on it.…The other thing I did was let
adult-ESL teachers know about it. They use food all the time as
conversation. These are very new Canadians," she says of the 10
ESL students whose fare includes a chive- laden Whampao Scrambled
Eggs that, contri?butor Tony Luk reveals, was enjoyed by Dr. Sun
Yat-sen and Chiang Kai-shek to such an extent that it was given
the name of the village.
With its few ingredients and simple technique, that was an
easy one for Cross to test. A harder and more typical challenge
was Uncle Bill's Oxtail Mock Turtle Soup as written down by Joyce
Vandegriend's Uncle Bill, a camp cook and gold prospector. "His
[version] is so colourful and so fun," says Cross. It contained
instructions like 'Boil the oxtail until the meat falls off. Let
the broth cool. The next morning haul it out…but you have to know
how to cook.' I love the way he wrote 'Boil the beans as soft as
you can.'?" He never mentioned the meat again."
She tested each recipe individually, making copious notes as
she worked. "Countries cook with different measuring devices. We
decided to go with imperial. Some recipes were a mixture. I
always had the scales out. I weighed ingredients, then changed it
into cups." Some she adapted for reasons of safety. "We have a
ceviche in there. I made sure there was a note about handling raw
fish." She tested results on husband Sid and, along with
questions, took samples to meetings with Peacock. "Whenever we
hit a snag, I spent a long time going back to the originator so
it truly was their recipe," says Peacock who occasionally called
in media personality Andy Lung to field queries in Cantonese or
Mandarin. When quantities weren't specified, Cross fiddled until,
for instance, a vinegar-soy-and-sesame sauce tasted right, and
then ran it by her Chinese neighbour as she did with
non-restaurant dishes like bing (a Beijing street food).
Even though she cooks extensively, certain ingredients floored
Cross. Zereshk, she learned, was an Iranian dried fruit, and
"green bean vermicelli are made with mung beans." Then there was
the casareep used in Guyanese pepper pot, which research showed
was made from cassava root, looked like molasses, and also
featured in Caribbean cooking. "First I phoned places like Urban
Fare and Whole Foods," says Cross. "Nobody knew. [Then] I went
through the Yellow Pages and found a place in New Westminster
[Caribbean Market, 1003 Royal Avenue]. The "plaster powder" that
Peacock alludes to in the acknowledgments gave everyone pause for
thought; it was eventually found to be calcium sulphate. (Space
limitations meant the recipe never made it into the book.)
Professional chefs contributed dishes too, but not those they
serve in their restaurants, says Peacock. Le Crocodile owner
Michel Jacob, for instance, submitted his father's poulet farci.
Some recipes arrived in perfect shape, but Cross's file folder
reveals that even the words of seasoned pros benefited from small
improvements. As originally submitted, Fricasée de Lapin, a
recipe from the William Tell's Erwin Doebeli, listed "1 rabbit".
Alongside, Cross pencilled: "3 lb. Cut into x pieces" and altered
the instruction to simmer "until meat is cooked" to read "until
meat is tender". (In the book's final cut, it reads "until meat
can be easily pierced with a knife".) Once tested, the recipes
went back to their originators along with their edited story.
Sometimes, corrections came back, Peacock says. (No, cranberries
were not a substitute for zereshk.)
The 100 recipes and stories that made it into the book are an
enlightening and engaging cross-section of Vancouver-or rather
where we've come from and how we eat. Barring the cup of Madeira
in Uncle Bill's stew, they are easy and cheap, and represent,
Peacock is proud to say, all ages and continents. "The number one
way to say 'hi' to your neighbours is over food," she concludes.
"It's the way you traditionally make new friends."
-
YELLOW CHICKEN
Rachel Newton writes in the introduction to her recipe: "My
family background is Burmese-Chinese (Burma is the present-day
Myanmar. I was born in Australia.…This Burmese curry recipe has
been passed from both of my grandmothers to my mother and then to
my sister and me. I know there is a correct Burmese name for this
dish, but we call it Yellow Chicken as the turmeric makes the
chicken turn yellow. This was my comfort food when I was growing
up…"
Serves four to six
2 tablespoons sunflower or vegetable oil
1 small yellow onion, diced
2 teaspoons minced garlic
1 teaspoon minced fresh ginger
2 teaspoons paprika
(sweet or hot depending on taste)
1 teaspoon turmeric
1 whole chicken, cut into eight pieces
1-2 tablespoons mushroom soy sauce, to taste
1 cup chicken stock, plus one extra cup chicken stock to use
if necessary
1 cup canned tomatoes, with juice, diced
Heat oil over low-to-medium heat in a large pot. Add onion,
garlic, and ginger, and sauté, stirring occasionally, until
golden. Add paprika and turmeric, and mix into a paste. (Careful,
it will stain clothes.) Add chicken pieces and raise the heat to
brown chicken. Stir to cover all pieces with the paste. Add soy
sauce and chicken stock, stir well, and bring to a boil. Reduce
heat to medium, and add tomatoes with juice. Cover and simmer for
20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add more chicken stock if
necessary. Remove cooked chicken pieces to a platter. The meat
should pierce easily with a fork and the juices run clear yellow,
not pink. Remove the lid, increase heat, and reduce the liquid to
a sauce consistency. Stir occasionally. Put chicken pieces back
into the finished sauce and heat through to serve. Serve with
white jasmine or basmati rice and stir-fried vegetables.
From the book Flavours of Vancouver by Sheila Peacock and Joan
Cross, published by Douglas & McIntyre. Reprinted by
arrangement with the publisher. All rights reserved.