The Sandpoint Eater: One world

By Marcia Pilgeram
Reader Columnist

I recently met three longtime friends for breakfast at Connie’s. We’d barely turned in our standard order or broached our recent travels when the conversation turned to cooking. When the weather turns, we all fall back to our hunter-gatherer instincts. For me, the gathering instinct includes hitting all local grocery stores for winter baking sales. Sadly, I was traveling and missed the big sale at Super One. But, lo and behold, I came home to a cupboard laden with three types of flour, sugar, brown sugar, myriad baking chips and a freezer full of butter. That’s what friends are for.

Food and travel go naturally hand in hand, and each journey to new soil offers a unique chance to learn about other cultures, people and their foods. Many top-rated television series are now taking a deep dive into exploring cultures that were once unfamiliar to us, so we now have the opportunity to “know before we go.”  

Hands-on food experiences abound throughout the world. There are walking tours, shopping and cooking tours, and even multi-day gastronomic events in which you can observe or participate. My favorite experiences always include visiting a local home to cook or share a meal with the resident Auntie or Mama. I’m fascinated by the delicious and abundant foods prepared in their sparse and straightforward kitchens.  

On a recent trip to Tahiti, our culinary adventures were vast and varied. I found myself eating an array of raw fish at snack shacks located on dreamy blue lagoons. These shacks are mostly frequented by the locals, who are there to grab a snack and pick up the local gossip, referred to as “Coconut Radio.” 

Poisson cru is offered almost everywhere and is an absolute favorite of mine: fresh tuna, lime juice, chopped onion and freshly squeezed coconut milk are tossed quickly and served chilled. It’s a favorite for locals, too. Fafaru is another island dish, just as traditional, but the aroma made it difficult to get past my nose and into my mouth. Raw tuna brines for three to four hours in a glass jar of crushed shrimp and saltwater that has been fermenting for two to three days. Culinarians, beware! 

We ate and danced through a traditional Polynesian feast that included a dozen types of fish, exotic fruits and vegetables, and lots of French and Tahitian-influenced pastries and puddings. We also dined at an acclaimed Michelin-rated restaurant, Le Lotus, which again featured raw fish, albeit elevated to a whole new level was swordfish gravlax, sliced paper thin, rolled in black curry and served on soy sprouts. 

Most of the food in Tahiti is a fusion of Tahitian, Chinese and French, and it’s not unusual to find a French baguette filled with savory meats, a sweet spread, pickled veggies and lots of ramen noodles — and it’s quite a tasty little sandwich. 

I wonder if many of their recipes are committed to paper. Instead, I think they have mostly been handed down and memorized for generations. Often, when someone shares a recipe, they speak of learning from grandparents long ago, when they were younger. And not just recipes but other vital lessons, like when to choose a piece of fruit for ripeness; how to peel a coconut shell with your teeth or make a sturdy plate from fronds; and which leaves, plants and herbs can cure almost any malady. I love how revered the older generations are in their cultures; valuable and seemingly somewhat youthful in their societies. We are but one world when it comes to honoring the wisdom of our mothers, and theirs. 

I was lucky to spend some time on and off living near my grandmother, Irma, and her wisdom still reigns in my mind. There was nothing she couldn’t do. I cherish her hand-scrawled recipes, and I’m honored to be the keeper of her legacy. It’s this time of year when the chilly weather calls for me to pull them out of the aged recipe box and carefully finger through them. 

Many of the recipes are fall and winter-ish stews, but there are also all the well-remembered desserts. Sometimes, you have to read between the lines because, aside from the scrawled ingredients, there are few directions. I’ve made most of them enough over the past half a century to do without the instructions, but many would be difficult for others to decipher. 

The recipe for Irma’s molasses cookies is one that I’ll revive in detail for everyone. It may not be that popular with the masses anymore, but it’s definitely a favorite at our house; and the aroma as they bake makes it hard to wait for them to come out of the oven. 

I hope your family will enjoy some, too!

Molasses crinkle cookies
These cook hot and fast for the traditional crackle texture. Fresh baking soda is a must. Yields 3½ dozen.

Ingredients:

• 2 ½ cups all-purpose flour (spooned & leveled into cups)

• 2 tsp baking soda

• 2 tsp ground ginger

• 2 tsp ground cinnamon

• ¼ tsp ground cloves

• ½ tsp fresh grated nutmeg

• ¼ tsp salt

• ½ cup unsalted butter, softened to room temperature

• ¼ cup Crisco shortening

• 1 cup packed dark brown sugar

• ½ cup dark molasses

• 2 large eggs, at room temperature

• 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract