A NEW WAVE OF IMMIGRANT COOKBOOKS PROVES AMERICA’S DIVERSITY IS DELICIOUS
These dishes are melting pots of love and comfort
It started with a meatball. Anna Francese Gass, born in Italy and raised in Rhode Island, grew up devouring her mom’s meatballs slathered in tomato sauce. Her mother learned to make the dish in a tiny countryside kitchen in Calabria.
“Visiting my grandmother in Italy always felt so familiar to me — the same aromas, ingredients, and methods used in our home in the United States had origins on my grandmother’s stove,” writes Francese Gass in “Heirloom Kitchen: Heritage Recipes and Family Stories from the Tables of Immigrant Women” (Harper Design, 2019). “My mother carried all of it in her head and heart when she left her homeland for a better life abroad.”
“Heirloom Kitchen” is one of several new cookbook anthologies championing the recipes and stories of immigrants who now call the United States (and, in one case, England) home. They are welcome reminders, during a time of anti-immigrant rhetoric and government policies, of the rich cultural and culinary variety immigrants bring.
Some leave their homeland for love or economic or educational opportunities; others escape violence or political or religious persecution. Many are home cooks: mothers trying to feed their families well while maintaining a connection to their cultures. Some have gone on to cook professionally. These books have different flavors and political undercurrents, but they all express appreciation for the foodways of communities from around the globe.
The dishes found in their pages confirm that diversity is indeed delicious.
‘Heirloom Kitchen’
A few years ago, Francese Gass, a professional chef, recipe tester and contributor to Food52, was watching her mom make meatballs when she realized she didn’t have the recipe down pat. She vowed to preserve her mother’s recipes for her three children and generations to come. (Her mom’s meatballs are delicate and moist, light on bread crumbs, and include a half-cup of sauce in the mix. They’re baked, not fried, and then poached in sauce.)
A book idea was born. Francese Gass decided to ask friends, all children of immigrants, if she could “borrow” their mothers or grandmothers for a day in their kitchens so that she could document their favorite childhood recipes for prosperity. She had no shortage of takers.
The author, who left the corporate financial world to pursue a culinary career, traveled around the country to collect recipes with roots in Greece, Lebanon, Ghana, Mexico, Korea and beyond. She also collected stories of what it was like for each woman to start over in a new land.
We meet 85-year-old Palestinian Fethie Aboweznah Loutfi, a child of goat farmers, who fled with her family across the desert from Yaffa to Jordan in search of safety. Denied entry, they continued to Syria, and in a refugee camp there she fell in love with an Albanian refugee; they married, had a son and moved to the United States. The couple raised eight children in New York; Loutfi worked as on the United Nations maintenance staff. Used to cooking for a crowd — as her Palestinian rice dish maqluba attests — she delights in feeding her family, which includes members of Muslim, Catholic and Jewish faiths.
The book, organized around geographic regions, includes 100 recipes from 45 contributors. A common thread: re-creating the comfort of home through cooking. “Food is love. You can taste it in the recipes these women, all mothers, shared with me,” Francese Gass says.
Fusion cuisine isn’t a term these women bandy about. But it is their lived experience. Sheila Brathwaite Haire was raised primarily in Panama, but her grandparents hailed from Barbados and Jamaica. Her recipes reflect her mixed heritage: arroz con pollo (Panamanian chicken and rice) and Bajan cou cou (cornmeal and okra), considered the national dish of Barbados.
The book includes images of ephemera from the homeland of these cooks. There’s a 50-year-old spoon that Bea Pisker Trifunac brought with her from Serbia; Soon Sun Kang Huh’s recipe book handwritten in Korean; and the metric measuring cup Anke Gelbin tucked into her suitcase before leaving Germany.
“These women cook with simple tools to make delicious food,” Francese Gass says. “In their kitchens, there wasn’t a sous vide machine or Instant Pot in sight.”
‘We Are La Cocina’
The women in “We Are La Cocina: Recipes in Pursuit of the American Dream” by Caleb Zigas and Leticia Landa (Chronicle Books, 2019) may have started as home cooks, but they’re intent on making a living at their craft. Many of the alumni from the San Francisco nonprofit kitchen incubator program (“la cocina” means the kitchen in Spanish) got
their start selling street food, hosting pop-ups or running farmers market stands; a sizable group has gone on to own their own bricks-and-mortar businesses.
Rising stars include Nite Yun of Cambodian restaurant Nyum Bai and Reem Assil of Reem’s California, a Palestinian bakery. Both were semifinalists this year for prestigious James Beard Awards.
The book features 100 recipes from more than 40 program participants. It showcases regional Mexican cuisine, along with dishes that hail from the Philippines, Senegal, Iran, Nepal, El Salvador and elsewhere.
Each contributor’s profile provides a compelling account of the resilience of the mostly lowincome immigrant women and women of color who — against language barriers, gentrification and access to capital — flourish in the competitive Bay Area food bubble, thanks to La Cocina.
Other cookbooks
“Together: Our Community Cookbook” by the Hubb Community Kitchen (Clarkson Potter, 2018) features 50 recipes by women who cooked in the aftermath of the devastating Grenfell Tower fire in London in 2017. The AlManaar Muslim Cultural Heritage Center opened its doors to displaced residents and women who needed a place to prepare meals for their families, and they began cooking together in the mosque’s kitchen. The Hubb Community Kitchen (hubb means “love” in Arabic) became a source of support, comfort and sustenance for Grenfell residents, many with roots in far-flung places, including Algeria, Egypt, India, Iraq, Morocco, Russia, Uganda and Yemen.
“A Place at the Table: New American Recipes from the Nation's Top Foreign-Born Chefs” (Prestel, September 2019) by Gabrielle Langholtz and Rick Kinsel of the Vilcek Foundation, seeks to raise awareness of U.S. immigrant culinary contributions. Top chefs in its pages include Dominique Crenn, Corey Lee, Daniela Soto-Innes, Marcus Samuelsson and Yun.
“The Immigrant Cookbook” (Interlink Books, 2017), edited by Leyla Moushabeck, features recipes from U.S. professional chefs with recent immigrant roots. They include James Beard Awardwinning chefs José André and Ana Sortun. Grammy-awardwinning musician Ziggy Marley pops up with a coconut fish dish.
Daisy’s Steamed Fish 2 to 4 servings
San Francisco speech pathologist Daisy Choy grew up in Hong Kong, with consistent access to fresh fish. This dish is healthful, using ginger and scallions as star ingredients in its simple sauce. Choy’s cooking is said to be a reflection of her ancestors from Shun Tak in China’s Guangdong province, where the food is known for being fresh and light.
You’ll need a steamer basket, preferably a large bamboo one; if you don’t have one, you can use a thin plate, seated on a cookie cutter inside a large skillet filled with an inch of water.
Serve with cooked white rice.
For the fish
1 pound white-fleshed fish fillets, such as grouper, red snapper, sole and flounder
1 teaspoon ground ginger
Pinch fine sea salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground white pepper
1 teaspoon cornstarch
3 scallions, white parts only (reserve the greens for the sauce)
One 1-inch piece fresh ginger root (unpeeled), cut into thin strips
1 to 2 tablespoons peanut oil
For the sauce
2 tablespoons peanut oil
One 2-inch piece peeled fresh ginger root, cut into matchsticks Green parts of 3 scallions, cut
crosswise into thin slices 1 tablespoon low-sodium soy sauce 1 teaspoon pure sesame oil 1 tablespoon water Pat the fish dry with paper towels, then season/coat both sides with the ground ginger, salt, white pepper and cornstarch.
Pour enough water to come up about one-quarter of the way up the sides of a large skillet; bring to a boil over high heat.
Cut the scallion whites into long strips; reserve 3 or 4 pieces and use the rest to line the bottom of a large bamboo steamer set atop a pot filled with a few inches of water. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat.
Arrange fish on top of the scallions, then place those reserved scallion pieces and the ginger on top of the fish. Drizzle the fillets with peanut oil, as needed, then place a round of parchment paper on top of the fish. Cover with lid and steam/ cook for about 8 minutes, or just until the fish is opaque. (Grouper may take up to 12 minutes.) Discard the parchment.
Meanwhile, make the sauce: Heat the peanut oil until shimmering in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add the ginger and scallion greens; cook for 3 to 5 minutes, until tender. Add the soy sauce, sesame oil and the water. Cook 5 minutes, until heated through.
Discard scallions and ginger atop the fillets (and the scallion whites under them), then arrange the fish on a platter. Drizzle the sauce over the top and serve.
Per serving (based on 4, using grouper): 250 calories, 23 g protein, 3 g carbohydrates, 16 g fat ( 3 g saturated fat), 40 mg cholesterol, 320 mg sodium, 0 g dietary fiber, 0 g sugar
(Adapted from her recipe in “Heirloom Kitchen: Heritage Recipes and Family Stories From the Tables of Immigrant Women,” by Anna Francese Gass. Harper Design, 2019.)
Dona Luz Salad
4 servings This is served at Veronica Salazar’s El Huarache Loco restaurant in Marin County, Calif., and was inspired by the salads her mother, Dona Luz, made. Make ahead: The dressing can be refrigerated up to 1 week in advance.
For the dressing
¼ cup fresh lime juice (from 1 or 2 limes)
2 teaspoons grated piloncillo (sugar; may substitute dark brown sugar 1 small jalapeño pepper, seeded and minced
1⁄3 cup mild extra-virgin olive oil
For the salad
½ cup hulled, unsalted pumpkin seeds (pepitas)
8 ounces small potatoes, preferably red or purple, or a combination of colors, scrubbed well
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more as needed
1 head romaine lettuce, rinsed well and cut into 2-inch squares
2 large handfuls (2 cups) fresh watercress
½ cup packed cilantro leaves
8 to 10 grape tomatoes, each cut in half
Freshly ground black pepper Flesh of 1 ripe avocado, cut lengthwise into quarters
½ cup crumbled queso fresco, for garnish
For the dressing: Whisk together the lime juice and sugar until the latter has dissolved. Add the jalapeño, then gradually drizzle in the oil, whisking, to form an emulsified vinaigrette. (Or you can combine all those ingredients in a small jar, seal and shake until well blended.)
For the salad: Toast the pumpkin seeds in a small, dry skillet over medium heat for about 5 minutes, or until fragrant and lightly browned, shaking the pan to avoid scorching. Cool completely.
Place the potatoes in a pot and cover with cool water. Bring to a boil over high heat, add the teaspoon of salt and then reduce the heat to medium-low. Cook for 15 to 20 minutes, until the potatoes are tender enough to pierce easily with the tip of a knife. Drain.
When the potatoes are cool enough to handle, cut them into halves or quarters. Transfer to a mixing bowl, along with the lettuce, watercress, cilantro and tomatoes (to taste). Pour in the dressing and toss to coat evenly.
Taste, and season with more salt and the pepper, as needed.
Divide among individual plates. Top each portion with an avocado wedge, if using, and garnish with the crumbled queso fresco. Drizzle more dressing over each portion, as needed. Per serving: 430 calories, 10 g protein, 28 g carbohydrates, 35 g fat, 6 g saturated fat, 0 mg cholesterol, 320 mg sodium, 10 g dietary fiber, 9 g sugar
(Adapted from “We Are La Cocina: Recipes in Pursuit of the American Dream,” by Caleb Zigas and Leticia Landa. Chronicle, 2019).
Cornmeal and Okra (Bajan Cou Cou)
4 to 6 servings
Cou cou is said to be the national dish of Barbados, traditionally served with salt cod or fish fried with onions and gravy. The locals know the dish as “turned cornmeal,” because you have to keep the cornmeal moving in the pot to prevent lumps.
8 ounces fresh okra (stemmed), cut
crosswise into thin rounds 2 teaspoons kosher salt
4 cups water
1 cup coarsely ground or
stone-ground cornmeal 1 tablespoon salted butter Combine the okra, 1 teaspoon of the salt and the water in a medium saucepan; bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Cook until the vegetable is very soft, about 10 minutes. Drain in a colander set over a heatproof bowl to reserve all the cooking liquid, which will have thickened because of the okra’s release of mucilage.
Add the cornmeal to the nowempty saucepan along with 1 cup of reserved cooking liquid. Cook over medium heat, whisking constantly to reduce the formation of lumps (a few will form, which is OK).
Reduce the heat to mediumlow; cook for about 30 minutes, stirring with a spatula every few minutes. The mixture will be pourable to start, then thicken to the consistency of lukewarm oatmeal. If it seems too thick, add more reserved liquid 1⁄4 cup at a time.
Stir in the remaining teaspoon of salt. Add the butter upon serving, so it is just melting into the mush.
Per serving (based on 6): 100 calories, 3 g protein, 17 g carbohydrates, 3 g fat, 1 g saturated fat, 0 mg cholesterol, 390 mg sodium, 3 g dietary fiber, 0 g sugar (Adapted from “Heirloom Kitchen: Heritage Recipes and Family Stories From the Tables of Immigrant Women.”)
Baked Butter Mochi
16 servings (makes generous 2-inch squares)
You’ll find this type of softly chewy, baked mochi served in Hawaii as a sweet treat, although if you are familiar renditions, this one calls for less butter.
Serve with softly whipped cream or ice cream.
Mochiko (sweet rice flour) is found in larger supermarkets as well as in Asian markets.
4 tablespoons (½ stick) unsalted butter, melted, plus more for the pan
½ cup granulated sugar
1 1⁄3 cups sweet rice flour (mochiko) 1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon kosher salt
1 cup whole milk
¾ cup plus 2 tablespoons coconut milk
2 large eggs, lightly beaten 1 tablespoon vanilla extract
Use a little butter to grease a 9-by-9-inch baking dish. Line the bottom with parchment paper so that 2 sides of the paper create a bit of overhang; this will make the slab of baked mochi easy to extract.
Sift together the sugar, sweet rice flour, baking powder and salt into a mixing bowl. Add the 4 tablespoons of melted butter, the whole milk, coconut milk, eggs and vanilla extract, whisking to form a smooth batter. Pour into the baking dish, smoothing the surface with an offset spatula.
Bake (middle rack) until the center is set and the surface is golden brown, 50 minutes to 1 hour.
Transfer to a wire rack to cool completely. Use the parchment to lift out the slab of baked mochi. Trim the edges, then cut the slab into 16 equal squares (about 2 inches each).
Per serving: 110 calories, 2 g protein, 14 g carbohydrates, 5 g fat (4 g saturated fat), 30 mg cholesterol, 60 mg sodium, 0 g dietary fiber, 7 g sugar
(Adapted from “We Are La Cocina: Recipes in Pursuit of the American Dream”)