Alimentary, My Dear
The Power of Fusion
By Tamia Nelson
tamia@paddling.net
May 4, 2004
Awhile back, you couldn't open a glossy
"lifestyle" magazine without finding a feature on Pacific Rim cooking. The
cuisines of Asia took America by storm, and hot on the heels of the Pacific
Rim fad came fusion cooking. It may sound like something out of a
physics lab, but that's not what fusion's about. It's just a trendy word for
the marriage of ingredients, flavors, and cooking methods from different
— and often widely divergent — culinary traditions. Notwithstanding
the recent hype, this isn't a new idea. People have been borrowing other
folks' recipes for thousands of years, adapting them to their own needs and
local ingredients.
Here's just one example from the not-too-distant past. When American GIs
returned from Europe after World War II, they brought a taste for regional
Italian dishes with them. Not surprisingly, "Italian" restaurants and
pizzerias soon opened their doors all over the States. Still, the pasta and
pizza that these home-grown trattorias served up usually bore only a passing
resemblance to their Old World counterparts. Hoping to lure Mom and Pop to
their restaurants, small-town cooks mixed and matched "traditional" Italian
ingredients and standard American fare — adding meatballs to spaghetti
with tomato sauce, for example. Long before fusion cooking found its way into
the headlines of the foodie press, it was business as usual on Main Street
USA.
Nor is this the end of the story. The Old World dishes that American cooks
adapted were themselves born of the melding of European ingredients with foods
from somewhere else. The tomatoes that flavor so many Italian sauces were
brought to the Mediterranean from South America, where they first excited the
curiosity of the conquistadors. And — though the question is still hotly
debated — pasta itself was probably developed in China about 3,500 years
ago. (The Chinese were also the first folks to experiment with the magnetic
compass. We paddlers owe them a lot.)
The upshot? If you dig deep enough, almost all of the world's culinary
traditions are fusion cuisines. Spices traveled from the Far East to Europe in
the aftermath of the Crusades, with stops at every port and crossroads along
the way. And the tomato wasn't the only plant to cross the Pond. Bananas,
potatoes, pineapples, cocoa, red and green peppers, even "French" beans —
all these (and more) were transported from the New World to the Old by
returning explorers. Today, the beat goes on, and the tempo is accelerating as
the world shrinks. So why not try a little fusion chemistry of your own? You
don't need to be a
foodie. There's no reason why fusion can't find a place in any canoeist's
or kayaker's backcountry
meal plan. After all, both paddlers and cooks share a taste for the
unknown.
Start your voyage of discovery at the local HyperMart. There's always
something new. Not long ago, I spotted plastic envelopes of vacuum-packed tuna
only one aisle over from the familiar boxes of noodles, rice, potatoes, and
cereals. I'd rather have fresh-caught trout, to be sure, but tinless tuna
isn't a bad idea. And my old friends among Lipton's Cup-a-Soup® line now
have new neighbors, with names like Broccoli Cheese and Spicy Thai Chicken.
Though none of these is a match for scratch, and they may be too salty for
folks on salt-restricted diets, they're all pretty good. As a result, my
moveable feasts just got more adventurous. A few of the early experiments show
real promise, too. One of them — let's call it Fusion Couscous,
shall we? — is a genuine triple play, bringing together elements from the
East, Middle East, and West. Couscous
provides the base line and Thai Chicken the grace notes, while the
not-so-humble American peanut furnishes the flourish at the finish.
Better yet, Fusion Couscous is ready almost as quickly as you can bring
water to a boil. It's as fast as a freeze-dried meal, and for a fraction of
the cost. Of course, if you have a little more time, you can ring the changes,
adding whatever ingredients suit your fancy. If you're only going out for a
few days, you can even bring along fresh vegetables. Sliced bell peppers and
green onions are two additions worth trying. Longer trips demand a bit of
lateral thinking. Top the dish with crunchy chow mein noodles or toasted
sesame seeds. Splash on a dash of Teriyaki sauce or sesame oil. Are there a
few packets of soy sauce or plum ("duck") sauce lying around the kitchen from
your last Chinese take-out? Then put these in your pack and use them to vary
the mix. Stir in raisins and chopped dried apricots, or pepper flakes. Want
more choices? Enhance the Thai Chicken's hint of coconut with more of the
same. (Dried coconut is readily available.) You can even add some of that
vacuum-packed tuna I mentioned earlier — or a can of pre-cooked chicken,
if you prefer not to mix flavors.
What's the downside? I can't think of any, although it's always smart to
try out any new dish at home before you add it to your camping repertoire.
Some experiments are bound to fail, and you don't want to waste calories when
you're eating out of your pack.
OK. You get my drift, I'm sure. But first things first. You can't score the
variations until you have your theme.
Fusion Couscous
Serves 2-4 (See Note)
2 packages Lipton's Spicy Thai Chicken Cup-a-Soup®
2 cups clean
water
1 cup instant couscous
1/4 cup (or more) dry roasted
peanuts, preferably unsalted
And here are a few optional extras:
Thinly sliced fresh red or green peppers
Thinly sliced green onions (scallions)
Plum sauce
Soy or Teriyaki sauce
Chow mein noodles
Dried coconut
Raisins
Chopped dried apricots
Canned chicken
Packaged tuna
Pepper flakes
Be prepared! Have all the ingredients measured and ready right at the
start. This meal comes together very quickly. If you decide to add one
or more optional extras (and please don't feel bound by my short list), use
whatever quantities appeal to you. Just add them after the couscous is cooked
and ready to serve. A two-quart (2-L) pot is plenty big enough if you're
sticking to the basic recipe, but if you'll be adding other ingredients —
especially meat or fish — you could find yourself in the soup when the
pot boils over. The remedy? Use a larger pot.
Ready? Then heat the water in the covered pot. Once it's boiling, stir in
both packets of Thai Chicken, being sure to break up any lumps. Next, add the
instant couscous, stir, and cover the pot again. Now turn off the heat (if
you're cooking on a
stove), or remove the pot from the fire and place it near the
edge of the grill or fire-ring so that it remains warm. It won't take long
for the couscous to soak up all the liquid — usually five minutes is
enough. Once that's done, use a fork or spoon to toss the couscous gently in
the pot. Now mix in the peanuts, along with any other embellishments that
appeal. That's all there is to it. Dinner is served.
Note Is the serving size too big? Too
small? Or just right? You'll have to let your appetite be your guide. (The
more extra ingredients you add, of course, the more folks you can feed.) I
find that Farwell and I can dine heartily on the basic recipe alone. Adding
meat or fish (fresh fish should be cooked), or increasing the quantity of
peanuts, stretches the dish so that one or two more mouths can be fed. A
separate soup
course, freshly made
flatbread, or a dessert
will accomplish the same end.
Do you want to make your backcountry meals more memorable? Then harness the
power of fusion: combine elements drawn from several of the world's culinary
traditions to create new and different dishes. The modern food processing
industry makes this easier than ever. And don't be afraid to take a walk on
the wild side, now and then. At the fusion table, you are the arbiter
of good taste, and you determine what tastes good. The possibilities are
limited only by your imagination and willingness to experiment. It's worth
trying, both at home and on the trail. Good eating!
Copyright © 2004 by Verloren Hoop Productions. All rights
reserved.