Banana-Chocolate Herring

When I first came across the Icelandic speciality banana herring I was at a loss for words at first.

The sheer outlandish oddness of the dish never fails to stun people who encounter it for the first time.

That being said, it wasn't actually that long before we started brainstorming how to top this freakishness.

Credit should go to one of my dormitory friends for suggesting adding chocolate to the dish.

Once it was said I naturally had to try it. At least once. I don't make this often, but it still happens from time to time..

Ingredients:
- 4 tbsp sour cream
- 2 tbsp mayonnaise
- 4 tsp honey mustard
- 1 tsp smoked paprika
- 1 banana, diced
- 40 g (1.4 oz) 72% dark chocolate, diced
- 250 g (¹/₂ lb) plain pickled herring

The sour cream, mayonnaise and honey mustard was stirred together, then the paprika, banana and chocolate pieced were stirred in. Finally the pickled herring was added and stirred in so the herring pieces were coated in mixture. Covered and left in fridge overnight (or longer) before being served on wholegrain dark rye bread.

But how does it taste? Interestingly, the chocolate functions as a rather subtle addition to the flavour, but when served chilled the chocolate pieces add a welcome "crunch" to the texture. I should add that banana herring - with or without added chocolate - is quite rich and as such goes better as part of a larger selection of herring as well as other choices, such as a Danish Christmas lunch or similar..

Jackfruit

I recently went to Brazil and one of the cities I visited was the city of Ribeirão Preto, in what was once the heartland of Brazilian coffee production. Now, according to locals, the only coffee trees that remain in Riberão Preto are those separating the two directions of traffic down the middle of Avenida do Café. On the grounds of what used to be one of the very largest coffee plantations in Brazil, but which now belongs to the Ribeirão Preto campus of USP (Universidade de São Paulo), one finds the Plínio Travassos dos Santos municipal museum and it's direct neighbour, the Coronel Fransisco Schmidt coffee museum.

Shortly after entering the municipal museum a lady working there inquired as to my origin, and my attempts to explain Sweden were initially stumped by my lack of proficiency in Portuguese (as far as I could understand the only language she spoke). Then when I found the museum's collection of coins which contained a few Swedish coins, I was able to tell her Suécia. After trying to explain to me some details of a painting of the coffee plantation that used to be there she gave up on me for a while, only to come to me later to make sure that I also visited the neighbouring coffee museum.

Guiding me through the garden towards the coffee museum, she suddenly pointed to some rather large fruits sitting several meters up a tree in the garden and exclaimed "Jaca". Judging alone by size of the fruits I guessed that these might be jackfruits - which is correct according to wikipedia. Not thinking much more of it I entered and quickly toured the coffee museum. The quickness of my tour was due mainly to (a) the relatively modest size of the coffee museum (b) my poor ability to read Portuguese (even if better than my ability to speak it) - more so than the fact that I don't actually drink coffee. Upon exiting the coffee museum, I found my new friend approaching with a plate of palish yellow pieces of fruit flesh.. yes, it was time for me to taste the jackfruit.

My new friend proceeded to show me how each seed sits in a coat of fruit flesh, which can be torn from the fruit and eaten. It was quite sweet and personally I rather liked it.

Rosehip Jam (less chunky)

I hadn't been living in Stockholm for a long time before I started noticing that rosehip bushes were by no means scarce around here - I saw them on my way to work, I saw them when I went jogging and at various other places around town. As I passed them daily it was easy to follow their progress: By September there were lots of ripe berries on the bushes and I decided to make an excursion (it's no coincidence that the Swedish word for 'autumn' is 'höst' which also translates as 'harvest').

Not wanting to ingest more exhaust fumes than I have to I wanted rosehip bushes not standing next to major streets. I knew two good spots off of the top of my head: one which I usually pass jogging and one which I pass on my way to work - the latter was further from my home and so lost out. So, at the end of a quiet street that ends into the park next to it I was able to quickly pick 1.25 kg (2.75 lbs) of suitably ripe rosehips.



At the time I was a little afraid that I would end up being sorry I didn't pick any more (there were plenty more to be picked).

Now, looking back, I'm glad I didn't pick any more than I did - I literally spent hours on rinsing them. Fortunately, after being rinsed they can be stored in the fridge overnight before proceeding.

After rinsing them, I was left with some 800 g (1.75 lbs) of rosehip shells, and given the results last time, I cut them in smaller pieces this time (quarter shells or smaller).

I also decided to change the taste a little by adding vanilla.





Ingredients:
- 800 g (1.75 lbs) cleaned rosehip shells
- 5 dL (2 cups) water
- juice of 1 lemon
- juice of 1 lime
- 500 g (1.1 lb) + 66 g (2.3 oz) sugar
- 1 vanilla pod
- 2.5 tsp red label Melatin^[1]
- 4 times 2 tsp Atamon^[1]
Storage:
- Three 0.5 L (2 cup) glass jars









The rosehip pieces were put in a large pot together with the water, the lemon juice and the lime juice and brought to a boil. As another tool towards reducing the chunkiness of my previous batch, I let them boil for 35 minutes under a lid before adding the larger portion of sugar. Simultaneously, I added the seeds from a vanilla pod and let it boil for another 15 minutes (no lid this time, and keeping an eye on it that it didn't foam too much). A pre-stirred mixture of the red label Melatin and the smaller portion of sugar was added along with 2 tsp Atamon. After boiling an additional 2 minutes the pot was removed from the heat.


Each jar was shaken with 2 tsp Atamon - excess liquid was poured out (but the walls of the jars should be moist with Atamon for preservation of the jam) before filling the jars while the jam was still warm.

I am happy to report that this batch is indeed less chunky than the previous one - and that I quite like the added taste of vanilla. A success.

^[1] Fortunately, the brand that sells both Atamon and Melatin in Denmark also operates in Sweden - both products were easily found at the supermarket. See previous post for more details.

Tamarillos

I notice that the supermarkets, in what appears a strategy to make up for the somewhat limited range of local fruits available this time of year, have started importing more exotic fruits.

Recently, I have been able to shop for dragonfruits, prickly pears, and tamarillos amongst other exotic fruits at the local supermarket.

Wait ... tamarillos ... what is that? The tamarillo is also known as the 'tree tomato' and is some sort of sweet tomato - I ate the flesh out of them using a small spoon (having read that the skin is quite bitter): the texture was very nice (so I assume they were ripe) and the taste was .. sort of a general sweet fruity taste but somehow tangy like a tomato.

Apple Bacon

Since this is a dish in clear violation of Mrs. Throat-Erator's don't-mix-fruit-with-food rule I only make it when she's not around.

Ingredients:
- smoked bacon, thinly sliced
- 1 onion, chopped coarsely
- 2 apples, cored and cut in boats
- water
- salt, pepper
- brown sugar

The bacon was fried in a large pan, then added the onion and a few minutes later added apples, a little water, salt, pepper and brown sugar - the pan was covered and the mix was allowed to simmer for about half an hour with occasional stirring. The simmering has to continue until the apples are turning mushy (and thus the time required is somewhat dependent on what kind of apples you use). Towards the end, the simmering was uncovered to reduce the amount of liquid a little.

Served still warm, either on whole grain rye or white bread - some people also like it on top of liver pâté...

Chunky Rosehip Jam

Rose hip is a quite common plant in Denmark: It grows wild along roads and in the sandy dunes along the coast and it's also widely used for hedges. It seems particularly suited for the latter purpose (if the idea is to deter intruders): Like all roses it is profusely thorny, and moreover the ripe berries are very mushy, leading them to readily release their payload of fine itchy hairs.

When I was in Denmark this past summer it was during the rose hip season (the length of which I'm thoroughly unknowing of), and I decided to pick me a bucket of rose hips and try to recreate the rose hip jam I have so found memories of both my mother and her mother making years ago.


Ingredients:
- 1.6 kg (3.5 lbs) whole rose hips, halved and cleaned (800 g / 1.75 lbs when cleaned)
- 5 dL (2 cups) water
- juice of 1 lemon
- 450 g + 75 g (1 lbs + 2.5 oz) sugar
- 2 tsp red label Melatin [1]
- 1 + 2 + 2 tsp Atamon [1]
- 2 glass jars with tightly fitting lids, about 750 mL (3 cups) each


The rose hips were halved with a small knife, the seeds and itchy hairs scraped out with a teaspoon and collected in a colander. They were rinsed well with cold water and let stand to dry a little. It's highly recommended to wash the hands thoroughly after cleaning rose hips.


The cleaned rose hips were put in a large pot together with the water and the lemon juice, covered and brought to a boil. After boiling for 25 minutes, the larger portion of sugar was stirred in before boiling uncovered (at this point it can foam a lot) for an additional 12 minutes.
At this point 1 tsp Atamon, the smaller portion of sugar and the red label Melatin was added. The whole was brought back to a boil and boiled for 2 minutes before removing from the heat. While the hot jam cools down a bit the glass jars were each swirled with 2 tsp of Atamon. Still warm (but not boiling) the jam was poured into the glasses and the lids were fitted on tightly.

Once cool the jam can be eaten. Of course it can be saved for quite for some time. The jam I made here was very chunky - so much that I would consider cutting the rose hips in smaller pieces next time. I particularly like it on white bread, such as our home-made buns.

[1] Melatin and Atamon are Danish brand names. They are gelling and preserving agents, respectively. Melatin contains carrageenan, locust bean gum, and sugar - one could surely substitute with pectin and/or agar, although I'd have to experient with the amounts. Atamon is an aqueous solution of sodium benzoate, lactic acid, caramel coloring, and rum aroma - the label is positively oldschool (to the point where one suspects they couldn't introduce it on the market today), and I honestly have no idea what alternative products one can buy outside of Denmark, but I'm guessing one could try sterilizing the jars in boiling water.

Kiwis

Around the holidays we went to the local farmers' market to buy some fruit and vegetables. I bought some kiwis, of which several looked like "siamese twin kiwis"..

Jícama

When I first told one of my friends about the sunchokes, he asked me if they were anything like jícama. Shamed, I had to admit that although I had noticed jícama at the store I had never tried them and actually had no idea what they were like. He told me he had had them in salads, where they were somewhat like pears. I immediately resolved to buy one and see for myself.

I discovered that the jícama had an interesting texture, tending a little bit to fall apart in flakes. From my friend's description I guess I shouldn't be, but I was actually surprised at how sweet the taste was. In the simple salad that I made with it at first it didn't work very well.

However, balancing the sweet with something sour works quite well, and I was much happier with the result the second time around, when I cut the jícama in cubes and soaked it in a mix of freshly squeezed juice of 2 limes, 1/2 pink grape and 1/2 orange (added a little salt & pepper to taste). As I said, I liked this a lot better, but the result still isn't quite what I expect from a salad. More like a fruit salad.

Prickly Pear

Out of plain curiosity I bought a couple of prickly pears at the market - completely without knowing that they are in fact the fruit of the very same cactus I've been cooking with in the past (see e.g. here). When I took the picture on the left of the tree with fruits and all I had no idea it was something I had already tasted. As you'll notice the fruits on the tree are orange while those I bought are paler, more greenish yellow. I've read that they also come in a red variety, which is suppossedly sweeter. Well, these were sweet enough for me at any rate.

The trick to eating them is to get into it without getting the so-called glochids on you - the skin of the fruit is covered with tiny hairlike little hooks that can just perfectly get attached to your skin where they're somewhat annoying (and all the more so because they're also difficult to remove because they are so fine). I used a paper towel to hold it and that worked fine. The skin is some 3-4 mm (1/8 - 1/6 of an inch) thick - first cut off both ends, then make a cut along the axis and peel of a strip of the skin - continue like this till you can remove all the skin (try to avoid touching the outside of the skin).

The fruit has lot of seeds in it, and they are hard too - so hard I couldn't crunch them, so chewing the fruit was a little bit of a careful staccato like procedure. I don't even know how to describe the taste - it wasn't really too much like anything I had encountered before. I'd say it's a bit of an aquired taste: I enjoyed the second one I ate a lot more than the first one.

Dragonfruit

One of the nicer things about being on vacation is finding and trying new things [1].

I was previously unaware of the existence of pitaya, but they appeared to grow locally at my vacation destination. In at least a couple of different varieties too. I bought this one at a road side fruit stand, but I saw others (which were red on the inside) in supermarkets. The taste and texture is not entirely unlike that of kiwi.

Since my return I've read that they grow also in Mexico. I'm sure I've never seen them before, but I'm not sure why - the lady I bought mine from told me they stay good for an extended period of time (I think she said up to 6 weeks) if refrigerated. Maybe too few people are interested in paying money for rather large, funny looking kiwi like fruits..

[1] Obviously the nicest thing about being on vacation is not being at work.