Wheelbarrows of wanderlust, metanoia and spicy rice cakes
“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.”
― Terry Pratchett, A Hat Full of Sky”
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| Lago Atitlan! Supposedly one of the most beautiful lakes in the world. I think it fulfills its reputation :) |
A couple of years ago, I boarded a plane to Guatelama, craving
wanderlust, a richer venture beyond Montreal’s typical horizons and those
latino, conchas bread that I first tasted on my trip to Mexico the year before.
During that full month, I didn’t find those pan dulce anywhere. However, guided
by an eager (and yearning) stomach and an even more eager curiosity, my thirst
for adventure did get satiated…temporarily. Unlike Gandalf, however, I didn’t
have a company of dwarves or even a hobbit to accompany me on my journey (yes,
I’m still slightly brainwashed by the movie, it was sooo good!). The purpose of
my trip was humanitarian-oriented with a full immersion in the Guatemalan
culture and lifestyle. I spent my month with a local family in Ciudad Vieja,
waking up every morning to a basket of freshly baked bread fetched from down
the street, sometimes a generous serving of fried plantains and …corn flakes
cereal (betcha you were expecting something more exotic).
[...]
We ended up being a small group of women tackling intensive
Spanish lessons in the afternoon and working on various projects such as the
construction of a soccer field or helping out with a community school in the
morning. I reckon there was a different third project but days prior to my
departure, an earthquake followed by the Tropical storm Agatha washed over the
Latin country. Some might remember those events as the ones that created the
giant sinkhole in the middle of Guatemala’s capitol. The earthquake had disturbed
the structural integrity of the ground and as the deluge poured down, the swift
running water dragged with it the loosened, eroded soil, generating landslides
that flooded and buried houses and entire streets. My host family lived at the
high end of a slope, and so our neighborhood wasn’t too affected. However, the
ground on which the towns and villages of this side of the country were
situated seemed to be overall on a natural tilt. Consequently, whenever it
rained, half of the villages would have murky water up to their ankles. The day
I arrived was on one of those rainy days, and as the taxi climbed the hill up
to my Guatemalan family, I could see a torrential stream of water running down.
And that was only rain. Now picture that stream loaded with mud, rocks, garbage
and debris from destroyed infrastructures, propelling everything down to the
lower end of the cities. As photos of villagers digging through their streets
and homes spread in the news, the crisis quickly became a priority and an
impressive amount of volunteers lent a hand to shovel out feet of mud from the
engulfed buildings. As our third project, we were part of those volunteers.
Most impressive, however, was the community’s solidarity and
effort to help with the clean up process. Most of the work had to be done
manually; with shovels, wheelbarrows, pickaxes or even with bare hands, and as
we were working, we saw groups of local men take turn hauling piles of mud out
of other villagers’ houses. Men from further towns also daily came to give a
hand. Word of mouth was sent out to temporarily host and welcome the families
who had lost their homes, and a community kitchen was created amongst the women
of the locality. It was a fascinating sight, so uncanny from its disparity of
such a readily willful collaboration between two strangers, and at the very
same time, it was eerily heartwarming.
[...]
[...]
In comparison, Montreal’s thousand glimmers of city lights can
barely warm up the hawkish black of the night sky. Or so, that’s how I felt
when I flew back. Disappointed in the coldness of the urban society, in those
freckles of golden, red, blue and white gleam that I used to ponder at in awe
from my window. It took me some time to understand that, well… every place has
its own beauty. I can’t not get lost in
the bubbles of incandescent colors, the moonlight glints smashing into rays of
tiny diamonds as they hit our glass buildings, the lamp posts’ coruscation as
they stand sentinel over our streets draped in black velvet…
[...]
The simplest beauty in any landscape, at any place, is the kind of
metanoia I walk myself into when I’m in need of a state of well-being. A
wrinkle in time.
And talking about warm feelings, here’s a recipe to cozy up during
these harsh wintery months. Stews always have this calming effect on me, and
while it isn’t exactly the definition I would give to this dish, you can always
double the amount of sauce if you want a richer texture.
Dak Galbi (Spicy rice cakes and
chicken from Chuncheon)Adapted from Beyond Kimchee
6-8 boneless, skinless chicken thighs, fat trimmed
9-10 oz korean rice cake sticks (frozen packages are available but I found fresh ones in a Korean store on St-Catherine Street, close to Atwater metro)
1/4-1/2 cabbage, sliced
a handful of vietnamese mint and basil leaves (the actual recipe used perilla leaves, a korean herb in the mint family so you could substitute with any mint variety)
1/2 large red onion, sliced
1/2 leek, sliced
1 medium yam (sometimes labeled under "sweet potato" but the flesh is firmer, like a regular potato although sweeter; and its skin is pink with pale yellow flesh VS orange)
2 Tbsp oil
some water
For the sauce:
4 Tbsp Korean chili paste (labeled under Gochujang; found in Chinatown or any Korean store)
2 Tbsp low sodium soy sauce
2 Tbsp chili flakes
2 garlic cloves, crushed and minced
2 tsp curry powder
1 tsp ginger powder
2 Tbsp rice wine (I didn't have any on hand so I used white wine)
1 Tbsp sugar
1 Tbsp perilla seed oil (or sesame oil, the flavour is similar)
pepper to taste
Prep.:
1) Thaw your rice cakes overnight in the fridge if you bought them frozen or soak them in warm water (faster). If you got them fresh, but that they hardened from the refrigeration it's ok they'll soften up perfectly in the cooking pot.
2) Combine all the sauce ingredients in a bowl. Pat your chicken thighs dry and rub them with 1/2 of the sauce in another plate (I like to throw everything in a plastic bag to "massage" everything thoroughly). Refrigerate and set aside.
3) Cut your rice cake sticks into bite size.
4) Pour the oil in a fairly large cooking pot (if you have a cast-iron skillet it's even better). Spread the chicken thighs to cover the pot's surface. Add the vegetables and 1/2 of the herbs on top of them, then the rice cakes.
5) Depending on your pot size, add some water to prevent the sauce from drying up, sticking to the bottom and burning (If you add too much water by accident, just let it simmer at the end, when everything has been cooked through, until your sauce get the desired consistency).
6) When your chicken starts to sizzle, gently toss them around with the vegetables and the rice cakes to coat them with the sauce. (the cooking time will depend on your pot size. Mine was tiny and it took me around 20-25 minutes to get to this point)
7) Let everything simmer until your chicken and potatoes are cooked through.
8) Once that's done, add in the rest of the herbs and dig in :3
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