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In the Kitchen with OIC: Peruvian Cuisine

by Joyce McGreevy on October 20, 2020

Chef Rodrigo Fernandini of Chiclayo, Peru, shares his passion for Peruvian cuisine and culture, as featured on “In the Kitchen with OIC.” Image © Rodrigo Fernandini)

Chef Rodrigo Fernandini grew up in Chiclayo, capital of Peruvian gastronomy.
© Rodrigo Fernandini

What’s on Chef Fernandini’s Menu?  Peruvian Culture!

In California, the cooking class was starting on Zoom. In Oregon, I hesitated. On the one hand, I was eager to explore Peruvian cuisine for “In the Kitchen with OIC,” our newest recurring feature. On the other hand, I missed travel, open-air markets, rolling up my sleeves in foreign kitchens. I missed food tours, following local experts along unfamiliar streets.

I wanted real.

Peru was on my 2020 itinerary. Instead, I was exploring the culture of my studio apartment. OK, fine. I’d try Chef Fernandini’s online cooking class. As I logged on, I sighed. Would it be just another Zoom meeting?

It . . . was . . . exhilarating! A kinesthetic thrill that had us up and moving, prepping, stirring, tasting, listening, and laughing with fellow classmates. All while the smoky, sweet heat and fragrance of aji panca and rocoto peppers, plantains, avocado oil, and cumin transformed our scattered kitchens into a shared experience of Peru. That was real.

Screen, what screen? It felt like we were in Fernandini’s kitchen.  Oh, I see: When you can’t travel to Peru, invite Peruvian food and culture home to you.

Rocoto chile peppers are a staple of Peruvian cuisine and culture, as featured on “In the Kitchen with OIC.” (Image © McKay Savage)

Tree-grown Andean rocoto is gaining popularity with U.S. chile pepper fans.
© McKay Savage, CC BY 2.0 Commons

Home Cooking, Chiclayo Style

His culinary journey began when Fernandini was four years old. This was in Pimentel, the beach district of Chiclayo, northern Peru. He recalls running into the kitchen, drawn by the aromas of garlic, peppers, and onions.

“I would put my whole face beside the pot, take a deep breath, and ask, ‘Oh, Mamá what is that smell? It’s so good!’ ” He also loved home-cooked seafood. Mamá got to the market as the morning’s catch came in.

Reed boats, linked to Chiclayo’s fishing and culinary traditions, evoke Peruvian cuisine and culture. (image © xeni4ka/ iStock)

Traditional fishing boats, caballitos de totora, “little horses made of tortora reed,”
are icons of coastal Peru.
© xeni4ka/ iStock

Regional ingredients whetted Fernandini’s appetite for cooking and stirred pride in his culture.  So where is the starting point for an outsider? How to approach the rich context of Peruvian cuisine?

“Begin with ceviche.”  So central is this dish to Peru’s culinary culture that it has its own national holiday on June 28.

Some might ask, What’s to explore? It’s marinated fish, you love it or hate it, end of story. In fact, it’s an early chapter in a rich culinary narrative.

Peruvian Fish Tales

Over 2,000 years ago, the indigenous Moche cured fish in tumbo, banana passionfruit juice. Later, the Incas marinated fish in chicha, fermented corn beverage. In the 1500s, the Spanish brought lime—and conquest.

Recipes for ceviche illuminate Peru’s costa, sierra y selva—its coast, mountains, and jungle—where 80 climates support biodiversity. For example, says Fernandini, in the mountains, ceviche is  made with trout and rocoto.

Mountain ceviche by Chef Rodrigo Fernandini innovates on the regional culinary traditions and cuisine in Peruvian culture. (Image © Rodrigo Fernandini)

“Peruvian Andes trout and rocoto are inseparable,” says Fernandini.
His mountain ceviche also features chicharrón (fried pork belly) and ginger garlic oil.
© Rodrigo Fernandini

In the jungle, ceviche is made with paiche, an Amazonian fish, prehistoric in origin and weighing up to 400 pounds.

Jungle ceviche with cumu cumu berries, by Chef Rodrigo Fernandini, showcases Peruvian cuisine and culture. (Image © Rodrigo Fernandini)

The rosy pink of Fernandini’s jungle ceviche comes from camu camu berries.
© Rodrigo Fernandini

The Runway or the Rush?

After high school, a lucrative career in modeling beckoned. Fernandini soon garnered international acclaim, including as runner-up in the Mr. World competition. But what he wanted was to cook. Creating an all-new resume that was long on passion and short on skills, he went to restaurant after restaurant offering to work for free.

Eventually, someone said yes.

“Wow! The rush! The adrenaline! I was supposed to be there four hours, but I stayed for eleven.”

Staff dismissed Fernandini’s enthusiasm as first-day excitement, but three months later and on the verge of going broke, he was still saying “I love this. I want to keep going!”

The Sound of One Herb Snapping

Fernandini attained a coveted spot at Le Cordon Bleu in Lima, then the renowned cooking academy’s only location in South America. For three years, he rode a whirlwind of studying, cooking, and staging—working for free—in Lima’s top restaurants.

Then came tests, like identifying ingredients while blindfolded. Could you tell cinnamon by the sound it makes when snapped? Could you distinguish black and green pepper by texture?  Chef Fernandini can.

Students were also expected to write monographs—by hand. Never one to resist a challenge, Fernandini researched the influence of Japan on Peruvian cuisine.

This was no mere fusion, a modern term for the intentional layering of unexpected flavors. For 500 years, people had migrated to Peru, from Spain, Africa, China, Japan, Italy and the Middle East, bringing long-standing traditions and slowly learning each other’s culinary language.

Pastel de acelga, chard tart, exemplifies the Italian influence on Peruvian cuisine and culture. (Image © Luis Felipe Rios/ iStock)

Pastel de acelga (chard tart), a staple of bakeries in Lima, Peru,
originated as erbazzone in Italy. 
Luis Felipe Rios/ iStock

Chaufa de mariscos, rice with seafood, is emblematic of widespread Cantonese influence on Peruvian cuisine and culture. (Image © Edgar D. Pons/ iStock)

Chaufa de mariscos, seafood with rice, reflects
Cantonese China’s widespread influence on Peru.
Christian Vinces/iStock

Carapulcra, a hearty stew, combines Spanish, African, and Peruvian cuisine and innovates on Peruvian culture. (Image © Edgar D. Pons/ iStock)

Carapulcra, a hearty stew with dried potatoes and peanuts,
combines indigenous, Spanish, and African traditions. 
Edgar D. Pons/iStock

“Land of the Rising Sun” Meets “Land of Abundance”

After Peru won independence from Spain in 1821, Japanese immigrants arrived to work in agriculture, trade, and restaurants. Japanese chefs shared their love of seafood, subtle flavors, and care in handling ingredients.

This changed the way Peruvians ate, including national dishes like ceviche. Marination times shortened, ingredient options expanded. Nikkei, the melding of Japanese and Peruvian ingredients, traditions, and techniques, was born.

“We started to respect and understand the freshness and texture of just-caught fish.” Fernandini’s inspired take on coastal ceviche features halibut, yellow chili, caviar, sweet potato, and “tiger’s milk,” Peru’s classic citrus marinade.

Coastal ceviche by Chef Rodrigo Fernandini, combines traditional and contemporary aspects of Peruvian cuisine and culture. (Image © Rodrigo Fernandini)

Chulpi (toasted corn) and yellow chili create culinary gold
in Fernandini’s coastal ceviche.
© Rodrigo Fernandini

Fernandini gives the impression that visiting Peru without eating at a Japanese-influenced restaurant would be tantamount to bypassing Machu Picchu. He cites Maido in Lima, ranked #10 among world’s best restaurants—“utterly splendid!”—and speaks of opening a Peruvian sushi restaurant someday.

Suddenly, my list of future favorite foods is much longer.

A Cultural Mission

Fernandini has been on a mission to delight American palates ever since moving to the USA. Initially, he faced stereotypes about Peruvian food: “It’s so greasy, so heavy!”

This was all the more surprising since Novoandina, New Andean cuisine, had gone global by the 1980s, making grains like quinoa, herbs like huacatay, and a wealth of recipes available to home cooks everywhere.

“I said, we have to do something about this!”

Chef Rodrigo Fernandini, shown in his pop-up restaurant Ayllu, is on a mission to share the wide range of Peruvian cuisine and culture. (Image © Rodrigo Fernandini)

Rodrigo’s pop-up restaurant, Ayllu. Demand turned the monthly event
into sold-out double seatings, week after week, for years.
© Rodrigo Fernandini

By then, he was working at Michelin-starred restaurants and being mentored by chefs like the Four Seasons’ Jayson Poe. During time off, Rodrigo cooked even more, spending months planning a five-course menu for the launch of a pop-up restaurant.

Two people attended.

When a partner suggested canceling, Rodrigo said, “No way. We have to respect those two people and make it happen.”

The two diners hired Rodrigo to cater dinner for 30. Soon he was juggling full-time work with booming demand for the pop-up. After years of slogging and saving, he opened his own restaurant, Jora.

The logo of Jora, Chef Rodrigo Fernandini’s casual dining spot in San Jose, California, evokes his mission to share Peruvian cuisine and culture. (Image © Rodrigo Fernandini)

In San Jose, California, Jora applies classical technique
to a casual Peruvian menu. 
© Rodrigo Fernandini

It was a dream come true. It was also December 2019. As Jora was hitting its stride, Covid was shutting down restaurants.

“Hard times, but I’m a warrior,” says Fernandini. “Recently we reopened for outdoor dining, take-out, delivery. I’m also doing the cooking class with ChefsFeed.com. I really like teaching.”

Chef Rodrigo Fernandini shown on a computer screen as he speaks on Zoom about Peruvian cuisine and culture in his online cooking class. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

“Live feed” gains new meaning when your kitchen becomes Chef Fernandini’s classroom.
© Joyce McGreevy

“Food brings people to the table to enjoy, and as you’re eating, you’re sharing your culture. Whatever I cook, I want to deliver on the promise of authenticity, originality, and respect for the product, the process, the person, and the moment. Everything I do is based on this. And yeah, I’m having fun in the kitchen. I love it—this is my happy place.”

Thanks to Chef Fernandini’s online class, my apartment kitchen is a happier place, too, a place were Peruvian cuisine and culture will always be welcome.

Until next month, this is “In the Kitchen with OIC” wishing you Buen provecho!

Request news of Chef Fernandini’s  classes hereCan’t wait? Start here, then follow Chef Fernandini here.

Comment on the post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Make Any Meal a Travel Adventure

by Joyce McGreevy on March 16, 2020

A food market in Denmark features in the culinary travel adventure of a writer on the trail of food origin stories. (Image by Joyce McGreevy)

You can order French bread in Denmark (but not a “Danish”).
In France, just order bread—in French.
© Joyce McGreevy

Food Origin Fun with a Dash of Cultural Awareness

So you’ve just canceled that upcoming trip, but you’re still feeling the wanderlust? Don’t be consumed by disappointment—there’s a travel adventure in the food you consume.

Lunch time scenario 1: Lee and his friend Ana meet for lunch.  Lee orders a French dip, French fries and a salad with French dressing.

Intrigued, Ana asks Lee, “What did you have for breakfast?”

“French toast,” says Lee. “Why?”

“Wow,” says Ana with crystal-clear cultural awareness. “You sure love American food!”

Brussels sprouts, known as spruitjes in Belgium, are one of many foods associated with specific places, even when actual food history differs. (Image by Pxhere

In Brussels, nobody eats Brussels sprouts, but many people enjoy spruitjes.
Photo by Pxhere

Lunch time scenario 2: On a culinary travel adventure one summer, I realize it’s been years since I’ve had a Reuben sandwich. Although it’s non-kosher (mixing meat and cheese), it’s a staple of many Jewish delicatessens.

As Meredith Mileti writes in Aftertaste: A Novel in Five Courses:

“I devour the sandwich, a mountain of corned beef between two greasy slabs of marble rye, leaking cheese and Russian dressing all down the front of my sweater. It’s delicious, and I don’t stop eating until I’ve finished the last thick fry, which I use to mop up the remains of the sandwich.”

Ah yes, the front of every sweater, blouse, and pajama top I own might just as well be emblazoned with an image of an airport runway. I order a Reuben anyway, because here I am in the city that invented it. You know, Omaha.

Wait, what?

It’s not “rye” humor—the Reuben sandwich may hail from the Cornhusker State.
© Kimberly Vardman (CC By 2.0)

A Slice of History

Reportedly, the Reuben sandwich was invented during a poker game at Omaha’s Blackstone Hotel circa the 1930s. Hotel proprietor Charles Schimmel then added it to Blackstone’s menu.

Fern Snider, a former employee of the Blackstone, used the recipe to win a national competition in 1956. That’s when the Oxford English Dictionary cites the first published use of the term “Reuben sandwich.”

Several New York-based origin stories also exist, including one from cookbook author and New York Times food journalist Craig Claiborne.

But I’d keep that to yourself if you’re in Nebraska on March 14. That’s when people in Omaha celebrate National Reuben Sandwich Day.  The food fest became official there in 2013.

Oh, I see: Food histories are like mystery novels, except that you can eat the clues, red herrings and all.

In a Pickle

Granted, it doesn’t take gourmet detective Poirot to reveal that a Reuben’s Swiss cheese and Russian dressing are neither Swiss nor Russian—just a case of “Colonel Mustard in the Kitchen with Kraft Foods.”

But even the Reuben’s sauerkraut, well-documented in German culture, has ties to another culture: Mongolia.  One reason Genghis Khan galloped from Asia to Meissen, Germany is that his nomadic horsemen packed the perfect lunch for those 4,000-mile commutes. Fermented food: Don’t leave the yurt without it.

Mongolian horsemen features in the culinary travel adventure of a writer on the trail of food origin stories. (Image by Erdenebayar/Pixabay)

From Mongolia to Germany to a Chicago hot dog, pickled cabbage has come a long way.
Photo by Erdenebayar/Pixabay

A Mystery that Takes the Cake

In 1963, when President Lyndon Johnson hosted a luncheon for German Chancellor Ludwig Erhard, the dessert chef served German chocolate cake. One wonders what Erhard thought of this three-layer confection of buttermilk, pecans, and not-exactly Teutonic coconut. No German bakery had ever produced one.

So why “German”?

In 1852, an English American chocolate mill worker named Samuel German developed a baking chocolate sweet enough to eat as a bar. Mr. German sold his recipe to Mr. Walter Baker of Baker’s Chocolate Company in Dorchester, Massachusetts. The resulting product, still on grocery shelves today, was Baker’s German’s Chocolate.

A mere 105 years later, a recipe for German’s Chocolate Cake appeared in The Dallas Morning News.  According to National Public Radio, sales of Baker’s German’s chocolate “shot up 73 percent that year, 1957.” Somewhere along the way, folks forgot  the apostrophe in German’s. Yes, they fudged the spelling and  “German Chocolate” took the cake.

A vintage ad for Baker’s chocolate features in the culinary travel adventure of a writer on the trail of food origin stories. (Public domain image)

I like ads that emphasize the nutritional importance of eating chocolate.
Public domain photo

You Say Croissant, I Say Kipferl

So many foods associated with one place began in another that tracking them down becomes a culinary adventure.

The croissant, that iconic French bread, might never have happened without an Austrian entrepreneur. According to food historian Jim Chevallier, author of August Zang and the French Croissant, the word for croissant did not even exist in 1838. That’s when Zang launched the first Viennese bread bakery in Paris, at 92 Rue Richelieu.

Zang, whose breads included the crescent-shaped kipferl, filled his patented steam oven with moist hay to add “a lustrous sheen.” Customers took notice. So did French bakers. A trend was born.

A Danish features in the culinary travel adventure of a writer on the trail of food origin stories. (Image by Pxhere)

Surely the Danish came from Denmark. No, Austrian bakers invented that, too.
Photo by Pxhere

A Moveable Feast of Food Origins

In the annals of food history, one culture whets the appetite of others:

As for the pommes frites that preceded fries, they really are French, right? Belgian food historians say, “Au contraire!” Others credit Pedro Cieza, “teenage conquistador turned historian” of Spain. “Hold on!” say others, “It all began with the ancient Incas.”

Yes, the food on your plate is a gastronomical map of the world. Once you bring cultural awareness to the table, it’s all a culinary travel adventure.

A rice dish in Athens, Greece, and a bowl decorated with names of world cities featuresin the culinary travel adventure of a writer on the trail of food origin stories. (Image by Joyce McGreevy)

An Asian restaurant in Athens evokes the global migrations of culinary cultures.
© Joyce McGreevy

• Team Omaha or Team New York? To read more about origins of the Reuben, see the Blackstone story here and food critic Craig Claiborne’s nod to its New York origin story here.

• Get the skinny on a puffy bread. Order August Zang and the French Croissant here.

Comment on the post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Do You Know Your Onions?

by Joyce McGreevy on November 26, 2019

Allium flowers reflect the surprising beauty of a staple of every world cuisine, onions. (Image by Sheila Brown, CCO Public Domain)

Take time to smell the . . . onions?
Sheila Brown CCO Public Domain

Crossing Cultures: Peeling the Layers of a Truly Global Food

Quick—what food is a staple of every global cuisine?

Wheat? Nope.  Rice? Guess again. Uh, potatoes? B-z-z-z! Game over!

It’s the onion.

Piles of fresh onions, a food known for crossing cultures, showcase the appeal of this staple of global cuisine. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Americans eat 22 lbs. of onions per person per year, placing 5th after Libya (66 lbs).
© Joyce McGreevy

It’s grown in over 175 countries—twice as many as wheat, according to United Nations estimates. The UN Food and Agriculture Organization lists China as the world’s largest producer of onions, followed by India, the United States, Turkey, and Pakistan.

Oh, I see: The vegetable that makes eyes water also makes mouths water across cultures.

Put on your goggles as we peel away the layers to see why onions are the apple of every culture’s eye.

Older Than Thyme?

Onions have been cropping up in recipes for more than 5,000 years. Originating between present-day Iran and Pakistan, they could be grown in all kinds of soil and stored for long periods. As a result, onion farming spread quickly around the world.

How quickly? So quickly that when European explorers ‘”introduced” onions to the Americas, they discovered that onions were already there.

The Chicago River reminds a writer that the city’s name derived from the river’s wild onions, one of many varieties crossing cultures as a staple of global cuisine. (Public domain image by Image by bk_advtravir/Pixabay)

Chicago’s name derives from a Native American word for wild onions that grew along its river.
Image by bk_advtravir/Pixabay

Nature’s Ninja

Experts recently declared onions “nutritional powerhouses,” but many world cultures have known that for thousands of years. Egypt’s pyramid builders ate them every day. So did the armies of Alexander the Great.

Onions also crossed cultures as an early form of medicine. From ancient Rome to early India, onions became a cure-all for everything from blisters to battle wounds.

According to Dioscorides, a first-century Greek physician, Olympian athletes fortified themselves by eating onions, drinking onion juice, and rubbing onions all over their bodies. That’s one way to keep the competition—and everyone else—at bay.

A fresco from Pompeii shows that onions, originally from Asia, have been crossing cultures to become a staple of global cuisine since ancient times. (public domain image)

A fresco from Pompeii reflects onions’ prominence in Roman cuisine.
[public domain]

A faded painting by Vincent van Gogh shows that onions, even aside from being a staple of global cuisines, have inspired art across cultures. (public domain image from Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam (Vincent van Gogh Foundation))

In 1887, onions and cabbages inspired this now-faded still life by Vincent van Gogh.
Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam (Vincent van Gogh Foundation) [public domain]

Speaking of Onions

Onions have rooted themselves across cultures, sometimes in surprising ways. Take food idioms, for instance:

  • In Britain, “You know your onions” praises someone’s expertise.
  • But in France, S’occupe-toi tes oignons (“Take care of your onions”) means “Mind your own business!”
  • And in Iran, Mam na sar-e piâzam na tah-e piâz (“I’m neither the top nor the bottom of the onion”) means “It doesn’t concern me at all!”
A thick-skinned red onion, believed to predict weather, signifies that, even aside from being a staple of global cuisine, alliums have influenced ideas across cultures. (public domain image from Pxhere)

Can onions predict weather? An old English rhyme says yes: “Onion skins very thin,
/Mild winter coming in./Onion skins very tough,/ Coming winter very rough.”

The Global Prime Ingredient

Today, most world cuisines are built on a base of onions.  Several countries feature their own distinctive version of a “culinary trinity”—a three-ingredient combination used to establish a culture’s signature flavor. Now check out the common denominator:

  • Italian Battuto: onion, garlic, parsley
  • Lousiana Cajun base: onions, bell peppers, and celery
  • Spain’s Sofrito: onions, tomatoes, garlic
  • Portugal’s Refogado: onions, peppers, tomatoes
  • Hungary’s top trio: onion, paprika, lard
  • India’s top trio: onion, garlic, ginger
  • West Africa’s top trio: onions, chili peppers, tomatoes
  • Chinese Xiang Cong base: green onions, ginger, garlic
  • French Mirepoix: onions, carrots, celery
Containers of French mire-poix is one example of a “culinary trinity” with onions, a global food base crossing cultures in a variety of ways. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

It’s my mire-poix and I’ll cry if I want to! But tear-free options are easy to find.
© Joyce McGreevy

A Gallivanting Globe

For travelers who love to cook, onions at farmers markets offer the affordable pleasure of broadening one’s palate.

Produce at Copenhagen’s Torvehallerne market includes alliums like onions, a culture crossing staple of global cuisine. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Shop Copenhagen’s Torvehallerne market to cook Denmark’s famous
Bløde Løg, pan-fried onions.
© Joyce McGreevy

From the Tokyo Long White to the golden German Stuttgart to India’s rosy Arka Bindhu, onions are edible globes that embody global cuisine’s variety.

In Italy, cipolline, flat purple or white onions have a surprisingly buttery taste brought out by simmering or roasting. Cook them low and slow with a dash of espresso and a splash of Montepulciano to make rich gravy for an Italian-style pot roast.

Sautéed ramps in a pan reflect the wide range of the allium family, which includes onions, a staple of global cuisine across cultures. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

The Allium family includes the onion’s wild cousin, ramps (above), scallions, shallots, garlic,
leeks, and chives.
© Joyce McGreevy

In France, “gray” shallots, (échalotes grises/griselles) are more colorful than their name suggests. Count on them to add complexity to a creamy vinaigrette.

North American farmers markets are also rich in choices: New York’s potent “Black Dirt” onions, Texan and Georgian Vidalias,  Washington’s Walla Walla and Siskiyou, Hawaii’s Maui onions.

Why Did the Onion Cross the Road?

For sheer global expansiveness, there’s the Egyptian Walking Onion, also known as the Welsh Onion, native to India or Pakistan, and introduced to Europe by the Romans. It’s also the world’s most unusual onion: Bulbs grow up top like fruit on a tree and then topple over, causing new plants to grow—hence the effect of “walking” across a field.

Chive blossoms reflect the delicate side of a pungent staple of world cuisine, onions. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

These are onions? Edible chive blossoms show onions’ more delicate side.
© Joyce McGreevy

A Multi-Layered Experience

Whether you chew it or eschew it, the humble onion has moved across cultures and earned worldwide recognition. It has even moved in and out of the food scene, obsessed over by ancient Mesopotamian cooks, used as European currency, and made into eco-friendly dyes in many countries.

In India, this staple of global cuisine has affected economic policy. In the U.S., onions figured into federal law—after two rapscallions cornered the onion market, causing a nationwide stink. Just listen to the wild, true “Tale of the Onion King” and you’ll really know your onions.

In short, the onion dips into history, runs rings around other veggies, and really stands up to a grilling.

An onion-topped slice of Italian pizza shows why onions are a staple of global cuisine, crossing cultures from Italy to India. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

In Comacchio, Italy, onions add bite to a slice. How do you like onions?
© Joyce McGreevy

Ready to peel some onions? Our downloadable PDF offers a world tour of recipe ideas for using this most versatile vegetable.

 

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