Recipes for Change

A neighbor passed away last month after an on-and-off again war with cancer.  We weren’t that close to him but from what I understand, he was coherent, conscious and articulate until the end.  I think he knew he was going to die the day that he died. And that’s what got me thinking.

To wake up one morning and say to yourself, today is the day – what would that feel like?  Do you wish that you could relive your life in the hours that you have left? Everyone talks about the regrets, but do you sweep those aside and focus on the positive? Do you see the memories in pictures or video? Like so many parents of young children, my memory storage is occupied by the logistics of daily life: tomorrow is pizza and ice cream day in the school lunch line, PJ day is next Friday and we owe the PTA $100. Don’t ask me what my kids first words were.

But while details of life’s bigger moments fade, I do remember the feelings surrounding them. Is that what one is enveloped by in those final hours? Not the moment in time but the feelings associated with that moment?

For me, many of those feelings are inseparably combined with tastes and smells. The mix-master of my mind combines the individual ingredients of what I saw, smelled, ate, and touched into one gooey dough that is no longer recognizable by its individual parts. My first memories of playing outside? A steaming hot baguette slathered in butter topped with coco powder and milk heated on the stove that was freshly collected from the cow. My brother’s bar mitzvah? Honey drizzled fried dough balls, babaganoush, Chakchouka, kababs and other North African dishes created by a motley crew of French family members, Muslim Algerian friends and my mother orchestrating in the kosher synagogue kitchen.  Our wedding? The smell of liquor, beer intertwined with musty sweat from a mosh pit of horah dancing. The birth of my children? The stale, institutional antiseptic smell of hospital food followed by the fresh heat of salsa, grilled and seasoned fajitas and fresh tortillas sneaked into my room. Our first home? Newly picked, jewel red tomatoes delivered in a brown paper bag by our welcoming neighbor. Since then, she’s delivered bubbling blueberry pie and home-made eggnog (yes, I know you hate eggnog but you haven’t had this – trust me) but that’s the subject of another blog post.

These are the memories of celebration. And although I remember the more difficult moments in much the same way – the smell of clumped dirt hitting my fathers grave, or the smell of rain and how I always thought that brought new life to the world. That was the day we buried by step-father. The same Pine-Sol, antiseptic smell from my daughters birth now mixed with my breast milk following her surgery. Ultimately, it’s the tastes, smells and feelings surrounding celebration that are the easiest to recall.

Through this blog I hope to capture and recreate women’s recipes of celebration and joy from around the globe. Recipes for Change was inspired by Half the Sky, the best-selling book by Nicholas Kristoff and Sheryl WuDunn that celebrates the courage of women and girls, especially in third world countries, and the economic potential we can achieve when we remove gender bias and honor the value, thoughts and potential of half our population.  As I continue to read, I’m marveling at the strength of these seemingly ordinary women who turned the tragedy they endured – often accepted as the norm within their villages, families, peers, etc – as a never ending well of strength in the fight towards justice for future generations. I hope Recipes for Change acts as a small thread that starts stitching our global family together through understanding, empathy and knowledge with a pit-stop through the stomach. After all, where there are celebrations, there is always food that defines cultures, connects generations, binds families together, nourishes the body, fills the soul and peaks the senses.

At first the recipes will be from family and various cookbooks but always linked to an organization that’s working in the recipes country of origin. A link to the organization will be included where you can learn more, spread the word and maybe even make a contribution.  My goal is that this blog evolves to include profiles of women who are helped by these organizations and possibly, their personal recipes of celebration.
The first link is to the Half the Sky website, in honor of countless women who prove that you don’t need to have graduated from an Ivy league school - let alone received a formal education, or have access to the latest technology, or even need the approval of elders to know that something is fundamentally wrong and become a force for change. On this site you’ll find so many worthy organizations working in specific areas fighting for women’s health, economic empowerment, education and gender equality. A few minutes of research and reading will provide so much inspiration, hope and once again, a reminder of the thread that stitches us together with our sisters around the globe.

Click here to visit Half the Sky Movement's Website

Chakchouka

Chakchouka (Chou-chou kha) is a roasted pepper and tomato salad that is one of the core foods of childhood celebrations.  This is a typical North African dish and in my family, it’s served as part of a larger mezze course. It’s so simple in preparation but complex and savory in flavor. This is one of my standard appetizers when we have company and a girlfriend makes it and puts it on eggs, toast and generally uses it like salsa. You’ll find recipes online that include sunny side up eggs cooked into the dish. Personally, I can eat Chakchouka as a stand-alone dish with a good French bread.

6 red bell peppers
6 green bell peppers
10 cloves of garlic, peeled and sliced
3 (28 oz) cans whole tomatoes, torn and juice reserved (be sure that the tomatoes don’t have basil or additional herbs).
3 tbsp. olive oil
Salt to taste
Preserved lemon slices to garnish (or fresh lemon if preserved isn’t available)
Chopped curley leaf parsley to garnish 

Cut peppers in half and remove stems and seeds. Place peppers on foil lined cookie sheet and spray with Pam. Roast peppers under broiler until charred. Place peppers in a paper bag to cool. Once cooled, remove peppers from bag and peel. The peels should be easy to remove and it’s easier to do so under running water. 

Place peeled peppers in a colander to drain. After drained, tear peppers into stripes being sure to remove any remaining seeds. Saute the pepper strips and garlic in olive oil for a few minutes – until garlic is fragrant but not burned. (I like to use a non-stick pan) Add tomato strips along with juice and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, stirring often, until reduced. Add salt to season and chill. Garnish with lemon slices and chopped parsley before serving.