Around the world in 80 dishes
George Bernard Shaw said, ‘There is no love sincerer than the love of food.’ Except perhaps a love of travel. Thank goodness the two go hand in hand. My hunger for food and travel began when I found a co-pilot. We met in Sydney, in a dank pub, and not long after, went on a small adventure. After three days on the sands of Phuket, spooning coconut tapioca and flat noodles with chilli, we had joint epiphanies. It started with a wish list on the back of a boarding pass; it ended with an oversized map freckled with Post-it notes.
It wasn’t long after that I dubbed the tall, blond fellow, who later became my husband, ‘The Hungry One’. It is a name borne as much from his appetite for life as his capacity to consume.
Since that first adventure, he’s passed some important lessons on to me, including ‘if you see a long queue for food, join it – locals will be waiting for a reason’. Many of the dishes in my new book evolved from our trips. There were escapist lunches of garlic prawns with a pitcher of sangria in Estoril, and pastillas from the cool shadows of a Marrakech riad. Nothing can transport me back to a place like a taste. A sip of Campari and I’m looking over Piazza San Marco. A glass of salmon-pink wine, beaded with sweat, and I’m watching boats nod in Menton. More than a photo, a journal entry or a pair of souvenir cuffl inks, it’s the food that keeps the journeys alive.
As long as I’ve got access to a kitchen and some inspiration, I could be anywhere, and it’s on those nights that I find I’m happier than ever to be home. I hope it works the same for you. Bon voyage.
A Suitcase And A Spatula by Tori Haschka is published by Ryland Peters & Small, £18.99
Serves 4
Kokoda is a coconut ceviche that is popular in the Paci fic. The fish is ‘cooked’ by the citrus.
Cut the fish into 1cm dice and sprinkle with salt. Add the lime juice and stir thoroughly so that the lime juice ‘cooks’ the fish. Cover and marinate for 30 minutes in the fridge. Toss the fish, then return to the fridge for another 30 minutes. Combine the fish with the spring onions, chilli and tomato. Strain off some of the juices, transfer to a bowl and pour the coconut milk over the top. Wrap the fish in lettuce leaves to serve.
Serves 4
For the tomato keftedes
For the tzatziki
To make the keftedes, put the tomatoes in a bowl and pinch them so that the juices spurt out. Keep pinching and tearing at the flesh until you’re left with a pile of seeds, juices and pulp. Add the onion, basil, mint, oregano, parsley and salt and pepper to the pulp. You can use a potato masher at this point to make sure everything is well incorporated.
Add half the flour and stir. Add the second half slowly – you want a thick and sticky paste the texture of a thick batter.
Heat the oils in a deep, heavybased pan until small bubbles form on the surface. Make sure the oil is at least 5cm deep. Use a greased tablespoon to drop in the batter. After 30 seconds, rotate the fritter so it doesn’t stick to the bottom. Fry for another 30 seconds or until the outside is crispy and deep red. Drain well on kitchen paper. Fry no more than three at a time. Season the fritters with salt and serve hot.
To make the tzatziki, cut the cucumber in half lengthways and use a teaspoon to scrape out the seeds. Grate the two halves into a clean tea towel. Gather up the edges of the tea towel and squeeze out as much excess liquid as you can. Whisk together the yogurt, lemon juice, garlic and olive oil. Add the squeezed cucumber flesh, season with salt and pepper and stir. Serve with the hot keftedes.
It wasn’t long after that I dubbed the tall, blond fellow, who later became my husband, ‘The Hungry One’. It is a name borne as much from his appetite for life as his capacity to consume.
Since that first adventure, he’s passed some important lessons on to me, including ‘if you see a long queue for food, join it – locals will be waiting for a reason’. Many of the dishes in my new book evolved from our trips. There were escapist lunches of garlic prawns with a pitcher of sangria in Estoril, and pastillas from the cool shadows of a Marrakech riad. Nothing can transport me back to a place like a taste. A sip of Campari and I’m looking over Piazza San Marco. A glass of salmon-pink wine, beaded with sweat, and I’m watching boats nod in Menton. More than a photo, a journal entry or a pair of souvenir cuffl inks, it’s the food that keeps the journeys alive.
As long as I’ve got access to a kitchen and some inspiration, I could be anywhere, and it’s on those nights that I find I’m happier than ever to be home. I hope it works the same for you. Bon voyage.
A Suitcase And A Spatula by Tori Haschka is published by Ryland Peters & Small, £18.99
KOKODA
Serves 4 Kokoda is a coconut ceviche that is popular in the Paci fic. The fish is ‘cooked’ by the citrus.
- 250g fresh mahi-mahi, snapper or sea bass, skinned and pin-boned
- juice of 1 lime
- 2 spring onions, sliced
- ½ green chilli, thinly sliced
- 1 tomato, seeds removed and chopped into small dice
- 90ml coconut milk
- 1 iceberg or romaine lettuce
- salt
Cut the fish into 1cm dice and sprinkle with salt. Add the lime juice and stir thoroughly so that the lime juice ‘cooks’ the fish. Cover and marinate for 30 minutes in the fridge. Toss the fish, then return to the fridge for another 30 minutes. Combine the fish with the spring onions, chilli and tomato. Strain off some of the juices, transfer to a bowl and pour the coconut milk over the top. Wrap the fish in lettuce leaves to serve.
TOMATO KEFTEDES WITH TZATZIKI (pictured top)
Get a true taste of Santorini with tomato fritters.Serves 4
For the tomato keftedes
- 400g ripe cherry tomatoes
- ½ red onion, very finely chopped
- 5g basil, chopped
- 10g mint, chopped
- 1 tsp dried oregano
- 5g flat-leaf parsley, chopped
- 100g self-raising flour
- 250ml olive oil
- 750ml sun ower or canola oil
- salt and black pepper
For the tzatziki
- 1 cucumber
- 350g Greek yogurt
- 2 tbsp lemon juice
- 2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
- 1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
To make the keftedes, put the tomatoes in a bowl and pinch them so that the juices spurt out. Keep pinching and tearing at the flesh until you’re left with a pile of seeds, juices and pulp. Add the onion, basil, mint, oregano, parsley and salt and pepper to the pulp. You can use a potato masher at this point to make sure everything is well incorporated.
Add half the flour and stir. Add the second half slowly – you want a thick and sticky paste the texture of a thick batter.
Heat the oils in a deep, heavybased pan until small bubbles form on the surface. Make sure the oil is at least 5cm deep. Use a greased tablespoon to drop in the batter. After 30 seconds, rotate the fritter so it doesn’t stick to the bottom. Fry for another 30 seconds or until the outside is crispy and deep red. Drain well on kitchen paper. Fry no more than three at a time. Season the fritters with salt and serve hot.
To make the tzatziki, cut the cucumber in half lengthways and use a teaspoon to scrape out the seeds. Grate the two halves into a clean tea towel. Gather up the edges of the tea towel and squeeze out as much excess liquid as you can. Whisk together the yogurt, lemon juice, garlic and olive oil. Add the squeezed cucumber flesh, season with salt and pepper and stir. Serve with the hot keftedes.