Nom Nom Paleo: Food for Humans (48 page)

I first learned of this traditional Ugandan fritter from one of our best friends, Sidney. Longtime blog readers will know that we’re virtually twins, with identical dispositions and tastes. I’m sure we’d be mistaken for one another more often, except for the fact that Sidney’s a foot taller than me. And male. And Ugandan.

Kabalagala
is made of just two ingredients: black, super-ripe plantains and cassava flour—also known as tapioca flour. The recipe looks simple enough, but to get it right, you have to put in some practice. Mix the ingredients by hand, and get a feel for the dough. Too little flour will result in a sticky mess; overwork it, and you’ll end up with a tray of dense, gummy pucks. But you’ll know you got it right when you have puffy fritters that are crunchy on the outside and toothsome in the middle.

I love the chewiness and mild sweetness of these fried, starchy snacks. Just don’t expect your
kabalagala
to be airy and spongy like pancakes or beignets. As Sidney explained, “Africans don’t do fluffy.”

1. P
   eel the plantain and thoroughly mash it with a fork in a large bowl until smooth.
   
2. A
   dd
   1
   cup of the tapioca flour and incorporate into the plantain mash. Slowly add more tapioca flour, but just until the point at which the batter forms a pliable ball of dough that no longer sticks to your hands.
   
3. S
   pread some tapioca flour on a smooth, clean surface, and roll out the dough to a thickness of about ¼ inch. Use a round
   2
   -inch cookie cutter or the rim of a cup to form about
   20
   fritters. Gather the rest of the dough around the cut circles to roll out a few extra fritters.
   
4. H
   eat the ghee in a large skillet over medium-high heat until hot and shimmering. Fry the
   kabalagala
   for
   1
   to
   2
   minutes per side or until golden and puffy.
   
5. T
   ransfer to a wire rack until cool enough to pop into your mouth. Serve immediately.
   

MUSSELS IN CURRY BROTH

I’m no hunter, but I’m proud to say I’ve killed my own food. That’s right: I’ve sent scores of bivalves to their quick, painless, and delicious deaths, and I honestly couldn’t be happier with the results. Mussels are inexpensive, sustainable, and yummy. Pair ’em with a big, poufy green salad, and slurp away!

1. I
   n a stockpot or Dutch oven, combine the garlic, shallots, broth, bay leaf, and curry powder. Bring the liquid to a boil, and then turn down the heat to low and simmer the broth for about
   3
   minutes.
   
2. I
   ncrease the heat to high, and add the mussels. Give them a good stir before covering the pot. Steam the mussels for
   4
   to
   5
   minutes, stirring once at the halfway mark. The mussels are ready when their shells open.
   
3. U
   se a slotted spoon to transfer the steamed mussels to a large serving bowl. Toss out the ones that remain closed—those are the ones that died before the cooking process began, and believe me: you
   really
   don’t want to eat them. Cover the mussels with foil.
   
4. T
   o finish off the sauce, whisk the ghee and herbs into the broth. Taste for seasoning, and add salt only if necessary. Pour the broth over the mussels and serve.
   

• T
  his goes without saying, but always start with super-fresh mussels. Keep them on ice in the fridge, covered with a wet paper towel, until you’re ready to cook.
  
• F
  resh mussels are alive, so don’t wrap ’em in plastic or they’ll die prematurely. Remember: dead mussels = bad mussels.
  
• T
  o prep mussels for cooking, rinse them off in water, and then yank off their beards—the hairy tendrils that dangle from their insides.