CASHEWS: WHY YOU’LL FIND THEM EVERYWHERE
Cashews originated in Brazil, but here’s why you’ll find them everywhere.
Of the many wonderful culinary memories I’ve made while traveling, the ones from northeastern Brazil are close to the top.
I have spent time for both research and pleasure in the state of Bahia, the largest in the country, in the capital of Salvador and surrounding areas. This wonderful place that boast miles of coastline and a vibrant culture with a strong African influ
ence — as the unfortunate result of slaves working the sugar cane and cacao plantations— completely captured my heart.
Among the many culinary discoveries I made during my visits, one stands out as an interesting history lesson: the cashew.
Reportedly discovered by Portuguese colonists in 1578, cashews spread to Mozambique and India in the 16th century as colonization expanded. They arrived in
Spain from the subcontinent via the spice trade, finding their way to the Americas shortly thereafter.
In an interesting twist, the name for cashew in Spanish is nuez de la India – the nut from India.
Nowadays, cashews are consumed worldwide, widely used in Southeast Asian cuisine and characteristic in numerous dishes of
India. But in Bahia, cashews reach their cultural and culinary peak.
The name cashew derives from cajú, the name given by the Portuguese after acajú, the name used by the indigenous Tupi peo- ple. The cashew tree is known as cajueiro, a close relative of mangoes, pistachios, poison ivy and poison oak. As useful as it is iconic, the trees, including the edible seeds and fleshy fruit that grow on them, appear in literature, poetry, common parlance and popular sayings, music, dance, children’s games, customs, folklore, medicine, arts and crafts, painting, furniture and, of course, the cuisine.
Cashews are a seed that grow on the end of what’s called an “apple.” Botanically a pseudofruit, cajú has yellow skin that turns orange and then red as it ripens and is used throughout Bahian cuisine in beverages, sorbets, jams and jellies. It is rich in vitamin C, and though it has a unique flavor that may be an acquired taste to non-Brazilians, it is used to color, perfume and enrich the tropical cuisine throughout Bahia.
Cajú is the star in numerous regional preparations, such as cajuada (pure juice sweetened with sugar, or cashew juice beaten with milk an dac companied by cassava flour or cashew flour), mocororó (fermented cashew juice), jeropiga (a bottled table wine), tumbance (cashew meal mixed with cassava flour, cashew juice, water, and rapadura, Brazilian piloncillo ) and cajuína (cashew juice filtered, bottled
and boiled in a water bath). However, I admit to not being a fan of the cajú caipirinhas that everyone around us enjoyed.
But it is with that soft white seed that cashews enter the international market. Cashews add richness and texture to dishes from many cuisines, and they are also useful to make vegan cheeses and milk substitutes. They contain the highest levels of zinc, manganese, magnesium, copper and iron when compared to other nuts, making them an excellent addition to a vegetarian or vegan diet.
In its raw form right out of the hull, the cashew kernel is soft, white and meaty, and is known in Brazil as maturi. In his novel “Tieta do Agreste,” celebrated author Jorge Amado describes frigideira, a dish resembling a fluffy omelet flavored with dried shrimp, coconut milk, cilantro and onion, where maturi is used as a substitute for the more expensive codfish.
But just like the cajú fruit, maturi is an extremely delicate ingredient. It must be removed from the shell by hand, a dangerous process due to the caustic substance found between the shell and the membrane that surrounds what we call the nut. People must wear gloves and appropriate clothing in order to safely obtain them. This has recently become a human rights issue for cashew workers worldwide.
While I haven’t had the pleasure of enjoying maturi, I did enjoy cashews throughout the area, driving along countryside roads where vendors walked up to cars with bags full of golden roasted nuts, the biggest I have ever seen. And Bahian cuisine is chock full of recipes that feature cashews as an ingredient and garnish, with dishes like vatapá, bobo with shrimp and xinxim de frango, a chicken stew flavored with palm oil and coconut milk, thickened with cashews. The African influence in the cuisine is
evident.
In India, cashews are also used as a thickener. According to my friend Shilpa Topiwala, a native of Gujarat in Northwest India, they are used as garnish, but also instead of heavy cream to make gravies in a lot of Indian dishes. “When making tikka masala, I add ground cashews to make a creamy and thick tomatoonion gravy. You can add chicken cubes, paneer or any vegetables and even chickpeas to this gravy to make different dishes,” she says. “Cashews are also used in Indian sweets as garnish or ground and incorporated into the recipes.”
And in Goa, a small western India state with a huge Portuguese influence, the fermented fruit juice is distilled into Feni. I first tasted this strong spirit at Vox Table, where beverage director Madelyn Kay used it in one of her cocktail creations, the Summer Abroad.
In addition to Feni, it features pisco, Ancho Reyes Verde, Japanese sencha tea syrup and lime juice. “This is one of those cocktails that seems like the ingredients shouldn’t go together because they are all from very different parts of the world, hence the name,” says Kay, “but the Feni is the perfect bright and fruity pop that brings together the floral pisco, the earthiness of the sencha and the spice of the Ancho Reyes Verde. I also really like that Feni isn’t an immediately recognizable fruit flavor. It makes every sip that much more intriguing.”
I found another use of cashews in cocktails at the Townsend, where bartender Patrick Wasetis created the Bardstown Harvest. “I wanted to create a resolution to the cocktail conflict that arises every fall: that (insert winter warmer here) sure sounds good, but my shirt is sweated through,” he says. “As with most of my cocktails, I referenced the classics, in this case, the Lion’s Tail. Using that tried-and-true formula, I substituted ingredients that were more autumn-themed.”
The cocktail features Mellow Corn Kentucky whiskey, lime juice and house-made spiced pumpkin cordial, aromatic bitters and cashew orgeat. “Technically, this isn’t orgeat because the term refers to a sweet, almond-based syrup. I, however, refer to any nut milk-based sweetener as orgeat. It has all of the luscious textural components of a traditional orgeat but is milder in flavor and provides a great platform upon which other ingredients can stand tall.”
And the bitters, with their cardamom-forward flavor, tie the cashews back to India, the spice route and the long journey of the cashew from the coast of Brazil to kitchens all around the globe.