Portuguese Seafood Rice: Arroz de Marisco

"Arroz de Marisco" is one of the iconic dishes of Portuguese cuisine. Although recipes vary, especially about the types of seafood used, shrimp is included in almost all recipes, with 2 or 3 other types of seafood often chosen by its availability from among: scallops, mussels, crab, lobster, squid and various choices for white fish, like cod ('bacalhau,' in Portuguese; that is, salted and dried cod),* halibut, haddock.   

If you shell and clean the shrimp yourself, you can use the shells to help make stock for the dish by adding the shells in with the shrimp when you initially cook the shrimp. Just use the large parts of the shells so that it is easy to pick the shells out of the liquid. You don't have to clean and shell the shrimp, you can buy them already cleaned. Trust me, the earth will not stop turning based upon whether you cleaned the shrimp yourself. You will use about 1 1/2 cups of this liquid for the recipe (see below). You can buy the clam juice used in the recipe in supermarkets or perhaps in some fish and seafood shops. It comes in bottles. This rice isn't meant to be completely dry, where it has absorbed all of the liquid; so, don't cook it until that happens. When the rice is tender and the fish and scallops are cooked, that's it, IT'S DONE! Some good crusty bread is excellent for sopping up the remaining broth.

 

Ingredients (4 to 6 servings):

 

1 pound cleaned and shelled medium shrimp

1/2 pound scallops (bay or sea scallops out of their shells)**

1 pound firm white fish (for the photos below, I used halibut), cut into bite-sized pieces

1 1/2 cups arborio rice 

1 cup chopped onion

5 cloves garlic, minced

2/3 cup chopped red bell pepper

2 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons olive oil + (likely) 1 more tablespoon olive oil

1 cup dry white wine

1 cup clam juice

1 1/2 cups cooking liquid water from shrimp

1 good pinch of saffron threads, or 1/4 teaspoon ground turmeric

1 teaspoon ground white pepper (or ground black pepper)

2 tablespoons chopped cilantro

1 teaspoon salt 

 

Put the shrimp (and shells, if using) into a pan over medium heat and cover them with water. Bring the shrimp to a boil and reduce heat to low. Let cook until the shrimp are almost done. Save 1 1/2 cups of the liquid for the recipe (discard any shells used), and cut the shrimp in half (across, not lengthwise). Set the shrimp and the reserved liquid aside.

 

I use a large skillet, but you can use a heavy-bottomed pan. Add 2 tablespoons of olive oil and 2 tablespoons butter to the skillet/pan over medium heat. When the butter has melted, add the chopped onion and stir it around a little and let it cook for 2 to 3 minutes before stirring in the minced garlic and the chopped red bell pepper, and stir the ingredients around until the bell pepper softens somewhat. (If at some point, you feel another tablespoon of oil is needed, add it.) Now add the arborio rice and let it cook for 3 or 4 minutes, stirring the ingredients around occasionally to prevent sticking and burning. Add the white wine and stir, then crush the saffron threads in the palm of your hand and add them to the pan (or stir in the turmeric, if using), along with the white pepper, stir again until the liquid is almost absorbed by the rice, then add the clam juice and do the same, stirring until it is almost absorbed. Now mix the salt into the liquid from the shrimp, and add this liquid to the pan, stirring again. Add the bay scallops and stir and mix them into the rice (the rice should still be in the process of absorbing much of the shrimp broth). Then add the pieces of white fish and the chopped cilantro and mix them into the rice. The scallops and the fish should cook pretty quickly. Add the shrimp halves and mix them into the rice; cook only until the shrimp is heated through and the rice is tender. Any excess liquid if fine, the dish is usually served that way, with bread served to help sop up the broth.   

 

* Portugal is known for its dried, salted cod called 'bacalhau.' The country is home to hundreds of recipes for bacalhau. Portugal imports much of its dried, salted cod from Norway, taking virtually all of the Scandinavian country's cod available for export. 

 

** If you use sea scallops, which are larger than bay scallops, cut them into 3 or 4 pieces.

 

'Arroz de Marisco' with some sliced tomatoes and crusty bread ... 

WORD HISTORY:

Reply (Replicate)-"Reply" is related to quite a number of words, including: "plait/pleat," "complex," "complexion," all Latin-derived words borrowed from French/Anglo-French, and it's related to "flax," a word from the Germanic roots of English. "Reply" goes back to Indo European "plek," with the notion of "to plait, to fold together, to weave or braid." This gave Latin the verb "plicare," meaning "to fold," and "replicare," with the "re" being a Latin prefix generally meaning "again, back. "Replicare" meant "to fold back," but also, "to repeat," and later also, "to respond." "Replicare" gave Old French "replier," meaning "to fold (up), to refold;" that is, "to fold again;" thus, "repeat," and "respond." English borrowed the word in the latter part of the 1300s as "replien, which then became "replyen," before the modern form. The English meanings were: "to make an answer to something (including in the legal sense of  'answer an accusation or charge'), oppose, retaliate." The noun developed from the verb in the mid 1500s with the meaning, "a written or a voiced response to something."

Scampi

True scampi are a type of lobster and a fairly common source of food, especially in parts of Europe, as the delectable 5 to 10 inch lobsters live in areas of the northeastern Atlantic Ocean from Norway down the western European coast to Portugal, and also in the Adriatic Sea. Scampi were a fairly common food in some parts of Italy, and when some Italian immigrants to America arrived, scampi were not available, so they used the much more plentiful shrimp, but the term "scampi" persisted, which brought a number of Americans to use the term for large-size shrimp. By the way, the singular form of this type of lobster is "scampo," a form not often heard in American English, while "scampi" is the plural, although I've heard "scampis" many times, as the plural has mistakenly become confused as being the singular form by many Americans.

In the early 1960s, we ate at "Captain Frank's," a seafood restaurant right on the East Ninth Street pier on Lake Erie in downtown Cleveland. Visitors often called it "The Lobster House," as the front had those words displayed for many years, but to Clevelanders, it was "Captain Frank's," and EVERY Clevelander had heard of it, whether they had ever been there or not, and I doubt there were many who hadn't been there at least once. Up until then, I don't believe I'd ever heard of "scampi," which were on the menu there, but after that day, they became a favorite of mine. Years later in the 1970s, none other than Captain Frank himself, an Italian immigrant, explained to me how scampi were different from what many Americans believed them to be. Captain Frank's family name was Visconti, and he was born on the Italian island of Sicily, but he had lived in the United States for many decades. He opened "Captain Frank's" in the 1950s and he died in 1984; a couple of years after which, the restaurant began to go down hill and it closed in 1989. The building was torn down and this part of the lives of so many Clevelanders and visitors to Cleveland was gone, except from the file marked "fond memories" stored within our minds.  

This was the first time I ever made scampi at home. In honor of Captain Frank:

Ingredients:

 

scampi

butter

garlic

lemon juice

breadcrumbs

(optional) chopped parsley

As with other lobster, open the scampi shells. Briefly saute some thinly sliced garlic in some butter over low heat, and add a sprinkle of lemon juice and, optionally, a little finely chopped parsley. When the butter is all melted and the garlic has softened, add a little to the scampi and bake at 400 F for about 16 to 18 minutes (until golden), turning once at the 9 minute mark. Serve with small dishes (ramekins) of more garlic butter for dipping.  

WORD HISTORY:

Fist-Closely related to "foist," a word borrowed by English from Dutch, to "five," a word from the Germanic roots of English, and to the prefix "pent(a)," which is Greek derived, although Latin borrowed some words with the prefix from Greek and passed them to its descendants (example: "pentagon," Greek to Latin to French to English, but "pentagram" was borrowed by English directly from Greek). "Fist" goes back to the Indo European root "penks/pengs," meaning, "having to do with a hand," a shortened form of "penkwe/pengke," which meant "five." This gave Old Germanic "funshtiz/funstiz" (Indo European "p" became Old Germanic "f"), meaning "balled up fingers or hand;" thus, "fist," which became "fusti" in the West Germanic branch of Germanic. This gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "fyst" meaning "fist," this then became "fust" and "fist," where it has been for several hundred years. Relatives in the other Germanic languages: German has "Faust," Low German "Fuust," West Frisian "fûst," Dutch "vuist." The North Germanic branch languages use forms from Old Norse "hnefi," which means "fist, fistful," but why Old Norse had the word is unknown, as is the origin of the word.

Venetian Seafood Soup/Stew

Some call the general recipe for this dish a "soup," while others use the word "stew." Fish and seafood are generally not cheap, so this is a rather costly dish to make, or if you're visiting Venice, it will likely cost you a "pretty euro" in a Venetian restaurant, but give yourself a treat, if possible, and make it at home. It is not all that common in the U.S. to leave shells on shrimp in soups or stews, but it IS common in many other cultures; so, use your own preference.

 

Ingredients (3 to 4 servings):

 

1 cup carrot, chopped

1/2 cup onion, chopped

1/3 cup fennel, chopped

5 whole cloves of garlic, crushed

4 tablespoons olive oil

1/2 pound cod or pollock, cut into bite-size pieces

1/2 pound tilapia or haddock, cut into bite-size pieces

1/2 pound squid rings (you can include cut up tentacles)

8 large shrimp, heads and shells removed (or you can leave the shells on)

3 1/2 cups clam juice or seafood stock

1/2 cup dry white wine

2 bay leaves

1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes

1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

1 teaspoon salt

1/4 cup parsley, chopped 

rustic bread, thickly sliced, lightly toasted

garlic for seasoning the bread

extra virgin olive oil for drizzling over the bread

 

In a pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat, then add the chopped carrot, onion and fennel. Saute for about 3 minutes, then add the garlic and saute a further 2 minutes. Add the bay leaf and red pepper flakes, then pour in the clam juice or seafood stock. Bring everything to a simmer and adjust the heat to maintain a steady simmer. Add the squid rings and cover the pot. After 20 minutes, add the white wine, cover the pot again and let it simmer for about 25 minutes, or until the squid pieces are tender. Add the black pepper and all of the fish pieces and the shrimp and cook until the fish pieces and shrimp are tender, add the salt and chopped parsley and stir. Lightly toast the bread and then rub each slice with some garlic. Place a bread slice into each bowl and drizzle each with olive oil. Put a couple ladles of the soup/stew into each bowl.    

You can even see some of the steam rising from the bowl. The small white pieces are fish, or in some cases, squid.

WORD HISTORY:

Spumoni-This word for a type of Italian ice cream is distantly related to "foam," a word from the Germanic roots of English, and to "pumice," a Latin-derived word borrowed by English via French (likely primarily Anglo-French). It goes back to the Indo European root "(s)poih-," seemingly meaning "froth, foam." This gave Latin "spuma," with the same meaning, which passed to Italian in the same form, which later produced "spumone" (ice cream type; creamy, foamy dessert) and its plural form "spumoni." English borrowed the word (plural form generally used as singular) in the mid 1920s with the meaning of "ice cream with layers of different fruit and nut ice creams." 

Italian Seafood Pasta: Spaghetti allo Scoglio

This dish is known throughout Italy, but as you can imagine, it is extremely common in communities along the sea. "Scoglio" means, "rock, reef, rock from the sea;" so it's easy to see the connection to various seafood that live in and around the rocks or reefs by the seashore.* It is not a cheap dish, as many, or perhaps most, seafood is expensive, and to buy such a dish in a restaurant, regardless of whether in your home country or in Italy, will likely lighten your wallet considerably or burden your credit card statement for a decent serving. You can save some money by making this wonderful seafood spaghetti at home, and it's really not hard to make, but there are steps to be followed. (NOTE: If you have had this in a restaurant, they may have had some other seafood included, like squid or scampis, or they may have just as likely excluded one or more of the seafood items I use for this recipe. Remember, Italian cooking is more about fresh ingredients available in a given area; thus, Italian cooking tends to be regional, although the basis of many recipes are the same.) This is not meant to be an actual tomato sauce dish, but rather a seafood and wine broth with some seasoned tomato flavor. This is a FANTASTIC dish!  

 

Serve with bakery fresh Italian bread ... 

 

Ingredients (4 large servings):

 

4 tablespoons olive oil

3 large cloves of garlic, crushed, if you prefer to remove it easily later; otherwise, mince it

1/2 cup chopped onion

1 1/2 cups grape tomatoes, halved

2/3 teaspoon red pepper flakes or 1 or 2 fresh red chili peppers, chopped

1 cup tomato sauce

1 teaspoon dried oregano

3/4 teaspoon thyme

2/3 teaspoon black pepper

3/4 teaspoon salt

1 1/4 cups dry white wine 

1/3 cup chopped Italian parsley

12 medium size sea scallops

12 medium to large shrimp (shells removed and deveined, you can leave the tails on if you'd like)

12 mussels, scrubbed

12 clams, scrubbed

3/4 pound spaghetti or linguine

extra virgin olive oil to drizzle over each serving 

 

Add the olive oil to a large pot with a lid over medium heat. Add the chopped onion and saute for 2 to 3 minutes, then add the garlic and chili flakes (or chopped red chili) and cook another 2 minutes, stirring pretty much constantly. Add the halved grape tomatoes and continuing cooking until the tomatoes are well softened. Stir in the tomato sauce, oregano, thyme, black pepper and salt. After about 3 minutes, add the white wine, stir well and let cook 4 to 5 minutes. Turn the heat down slightly. Add the clams and put the lid on the pot; let cook for about 4 to 5 minutes, then add the mussels and replace the lid. Remove the lid after another 4 minutes and see if the clams and mussels have all opened, if not, replace the lid and cook another minute or two, until they are fully opened (remove and discard any clams or mussels that have not opened at all). Remove the clams and mussels to a platter or bowl temporarily. (In the meantime, cook the spaghetti in simmering salted water until it softens somewhat, but it is still a little firm, about 7 or 8 minutes at most.) Drain the spaghetti, add it to the pot and mix it into the sauce very well (it will finish cooking in the sauce, thus taking on the flavors of the sauce). Add the sea scallops to the pot and cook for two minutes, then add the shrimp; cook until the shrimp are just tender (they cook pretty quickly). Check to be sure the spaghetti is cooked (you don't want it to turn mushy, though). Add the chopped Italian parsley and mix everything together well. Turn off the heat, add the clams and mussels back to the pot and replace the lid for about three minutes just to allow the clams and mussels to warm up. You don't have to pile every plate high with the seafood, as you can add more as you go. Drizzle just a little extra virgin olive oil over each serving. 

* Italian "scoglio" goes back to transliterated Ancient Greek "skópelos," which meant "lookout point;" thus also, "high point, peak," which presumably led to the further meaning of "reef, rock rising from the sea, cliff." Latin borrowed the word as "scopulus," with the same general meanings. This gave Ligurian "scogiu" and then Italian took it as "scoglio." NOTE: Ligurian is an Italic language spoken along the coastal area of northern Italy and into southern France, although some refer to it as a dialect.   

WORD HISTORY:

Swain-This word is distantly related to "self" and to the adverb and conjuction forms "so," all from the Germanic roots of English, and it is also distantly related to "sole" (adjective for "single," but not related to the noun for "part of a shoe or a foot"), a Latin derived word borrowed by English via French. Further, it is closely related to the name "Sven" (also "Swen"), which is from the North Germanic languages. "Swain" goes back to Indo European "swe," meaning "oneself, self, separate." This gave its Old Germanic offspring "swainaz," meaning "herdsman, one who looks after animals," then later, "a young servant boy." This gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "swan" (long 'a,' and not to be confused with the bird), meaning, "a herder, a swineherd, a warrior" (the "swineherd" meaning has led some to believe "swain" is related to the similar word "swine," but they are from different sources, although our ancestors may well have conflated the two because of the similar pronunciation). The Old Germanic form gave Old Norse "sveinn," meaning "boy, servant." Old Norse speakers settled in much of northern England, and the Old Norse word certainly influenced the spelling of the English word to "sweyn" and then "swain," but also in the meaning to "a servant to a knight" in the middle 1100s. It later was used in compounds "coxswain" and "boatswain" (once spelled "batswegen," where the 'g' melded with 'e' to produce the 'ai/ay' sound), types of officers on boats/ships, and the latter came to be pronounced as if "bo-son." Many relatives of "swain" in the other Germanic languages have died out or experienced very limited usage, although Swedish "sven," in the sense "a young male servant," is still around, but not common. 

German Fish Goulash (Helgoländer Fischgulasch)

Heligoland is a two island German archipelago in the North Sea, about 30 miles from the German mainland. In German, it is "Helgoland" and it is part of the German state of Schleswig-Holstein. During most of the 1800s, Heligoland was a British possession, having been seized by Britain from Denmark during the Napoleonic Wars. Denmark was Napoleon's ally. In 1890 the British and the Germans reached an agreement giving control of the archipelago to Germany in exchange for some German territories in Africa. The fact that Britain's Queen Victoria was the grandmother of the then German Kaiser, Wilhelm II, likely helped move the deal along.

The main island is only about a half square mile in size, while the second island, "Düne," lying just a very short distance to the east, is only about a quarter square mile in size. Heligoland is essentially motor vehicle and bicycle free, by law, except for authorized vehicles, like for emergencies. Heligoland is known for its beaches and sunbathing areas, its geological rock formations and red sandstone cliffs, its use as a stopping point by seals and a number of birds, making it a great place for bird watching (a bird observatory is there). Heligoland's airport is located on Düne. The actual population of Heligoland is less than 1400, many of whom are Frisians, and they speak a form of North Frisian, alongside standard German, and likely, Low German. From what I understand, a couple hundred thousand tourists visit Heligoland each year. By the way, Heligoland is exempted from collecting European Union taxes and duties on purchases, which means... CHEAP BOOZE! Ah, I mean, reasonably priced alcoholic beverages.

Food wise, Heligoland is famous for its lobsters, but naturally other seafood is common there too (hey, it's in the North Sea). This recipe from Heligoland is subtle, unlike many of the dishes I tend to like, which have strong flavors, but it cannot be highly seasoned, lest the mild taste of the seafood be overwhelmed, although there are other German recipes for fish goulash with much stronger flavors. In this recipe, however, the taste of the seafood shines through so much, you may just have a wish for some "German Egg Grog" to top off your lunch or dinner. (Here is the link to the recipe for grog: https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2018/06/german-egg-grog-eiergrog.html  

Ingredients:

1 pound cod (or substitute the cheaper pollock fillets)
1/2 pound small shrimp, shelled
1/2 pound crab meat
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon white pepper
juice of 1 lemon
2 tablespoons butter
5 green onions, including some green, chopped
2 potatoes, diced
2/3 cup dry white wine
3/4 cup fish broth or clam broth
6 white peppercorns
3 juniper berries, crushed
1 cucumber, halved lengthwise, seeds scooped out, then sliced
2 to 3 tablespoons dill
1/2 cup sour cream (or creme fraiche)

Cut the fish into chunks (like bite-sized or a little larger), put in a bowl, then season with salt, ground white pepper, salt and lemon juice; set aside. In a pan over low heat, melt the butter and immediately add the chopped green onion. Cook for about 2 minutes, stirring enough to make sure that neither the onion nor the butter brown. Add the potatoes, the white wine, the fish broth, the white peppercorns and the juniper berries. Cook for 3 minutes, then add the cucumber. Cook until both the potatoes and cucumber are tender, but not falling apart. Add the fish, the shrimp and the crab (along with any of the lemon juice collected in the bowl), stir well. Cook until the fish and the shrimp are just cooked through, then stir in the dill and the sour cream. Remove from the heat after about a minute or so.
 
Click the photo to enlarge it

WORD HISTORY: 
Cod/Cuttle-The history of these "seemingly" related words is shaky, at best, but there does seem to be some logic to what I've compiled here. They seem to go back to Indo European "gewt," which meant, "to bend, to bow;" thus also, "sack, bag." This gave Old Germanic "kuddon," meaning, "bag, sack." This gave Old English "codd," meaning, "bag, sack;" thus also, "husk for a pod." This then became "codde," before the modern version. The name "seems" to have been applied to a number of similar fish in the North Sea area in the late 1200s, with the theory being that Englishmen back then thought the fish looked like a pod husk. "Cuttle" has the same origins, but it was "cudele" in Old English and it was the name for the "cuttlefish." It then became "cutil," before the modern form. Forms in the other Germanic languages include: German "Kudele," for "cuttlefish," but the German word is now confined to some dialects (the standard German word for "cuttlefish" is "Tintenfisch; literally, "ink fish"); I found references to Dutch "kodde" being a term for "scrotum," which certainly fits in with the "sack, bag" meaning in Germanic, but "apparently" this usage is dialectal or archaic; likewise with Danish "kodde," which seems to be an archaic term for "scrotum" or "testicle;" Swedish "kudde," meaning, "pillow" (a bag stuffed with feathers, straw or rags); likewise with Icelandic "koddi," which also means "pillow."   

Crab Cakes

Patties made from chopped or ground meat, fish or seafood have seemingly been around since ancient times. Crab was used for such patties in the North American colonies of England, naturally more so along the Atlantic coastal regions. The Baltimore, Maryland area came to be known for these wonderful patties, where the term "crab cakes" apparently became popular in the 1900s. Way back in the early 1960s, we went to Baltimore and Washington, D.C. and visited a very close friend of my father. My dad had lived in Baltimore for five years in the 1930s. The first day, he took me to an area along Chesapeake Bay in the city, where there were fish and seafood stands, many complete with large kettles and barrels cooking crabs of various sizes. He picked out a large cooked crab, about the size of a soccer ball, if I remember right. Back in those times, he said the area had changed little from the days when he lived there, so he could easily find his way around. So we took the crab back to where we were staying with my dad's friend and his wife, who lived in a trailer. He showed me how to break open the crab and pick out the meat. Years later, I still had one of the claw shells from that crab we had eaten that day.

Crab can be quite dear, so if it strains your budget, you can use imitation crab, but try your best to give yourself a special treat and buy lump crab meat. This is my own recipe and the cakes are really "crab" cakes, not breadcrumbs with a bit of crab meat. 

Ingredients:

1 pound lump crab meat
3 tablespoons butter
1/4 cup red bell pepper, finely chopped
1/4 cup green onion with some of the green, chopped
1/3 cup mayonnaise
1/2 cup panko breadcrumbs
1 egg, beaten
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
3 teaspoons parsley, chopped
1 tablespoon seasoned salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1/4 teaspoon cayenne (optional)

Saute red bell pepper and onion in butter until softened, then cool the mixture somewhat. Mix all other ingredients in a bowl, then add the sauteed pepper and onion, combine. Gently mix the crab meat in, trying to keep the chunks from breaking up too much. Form patties, squeezing enough to keep them together, but not super firmly packed, place in freezer for about 10 to 12 minutes. Arrange on a baking sheet, lined with parchment paper or aluminum foil. Heat oven to 400 (F). Bake 15 minutes, then place the cakes under the broiler for about 3 to 4 minutes, until brown (watch carefully, so they don't burn), turn the cakes over, broil another 3 to 4 minutes, until brown on that side. Remember, you've already cooked the pepper and onion, so it is a matter of heating the cakes thoroughly, as they have egg in them, and browning them well. Serve with homemade tartar sauce. This is the link to my recipe for tartar sauce: http://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2016/09/homemade-tartar-sauce.html 

I served my crab cakes with some French fries, and tartar sauce for both.

WORD HISTORY:
Mirth-Mirth is the noun form of modern "merry," an adjective. It goes back to Indo European "mreghuz," which meant "short." This gave its Old Germanic offspring "murgjaz," which had the notion of "short (also of time), short duration." The notion of "short duration" provided the figurative meaning, "pleasant," from the idea that time passes quickly when an activity is pleasant. This gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "myrige," meaning, "pleasant, delightful," and this became modern "merry," and to the base was added the suffix, "th," in those times rendered as "ð" (called "eth"), and sometimes as "þ" (called "thorn");^ thus Old English "myrgð/myrgþ," meaning "merriment, joy." This then later became "mirth." Direct relatives have all died out in the other Germanic languages, but Dutch had an adjectival form also meaning "merry, pleasant," while German had a form which remained true to the original meaning, "short, brief," and a verb meaning "to cut into pieces;" that is, "shorten." 

^ The "th" suffix goes back to Old Germanic "itho," from Indo European "itah."   

Ecuadorian Shrimp Ceviche (Ceviche de Langostinos)

Published 4-24-16, but added 2 photos and "note" 2-16-22 

 

"Ceviche" is traditionally marinated raw seafood in many Latino countries and cultures, but some people now fix it lightly cooked, instead of raw, for safety reasons, which is a good idea in my opinion, especially if you have any immune system problems. Previously, and still used by some today, the raw fish or other seafood was marinated for a number of hours in citrus juice, or a combination of citrus juices. This process "cooked" the fish, because of the acidic juices used, but it was found not to kill all of the potential bad guys, and "on occasion" some people got sick. Variations in recipes are common, but I've kept it simple here, using only shrimp, which makes this something of a shrimp cocktail in Ecuador. NOTE: For those who like chili pepper heat, you can always add some finely chopped red or green chili pepper to this. Further, I'm not particularly fond of sour tastes, and this dish has ketchup, vinegar, lime juice and orange juice, so I add more than 1 tablespoon sugar to suit my own taste, but I neglected to mention that in the original article.

INGREDIENTS (for 4 servings):

1 pound medium cleaned shrimp, cooked in salted boiling water for no more than a couple of minutes (if using cooked frozen shrimp (very common way of selling shrimp in the U.S.), cook until just thawed and tender
1/2 medium red onion, thinly sliced into rings, then cut into thirds
fresh cilantro, 3 tablespoons
1/2 cup ketchup
lime juice, from 1 lime
orange juice, from 1 orange
3/4 cup frozen corn kernels, cooked for about one minute in boiling water, then rinsed in cold water
1 tablespoon cider vinegar
1 tablespoon sugar
2 tablespoons olive oil
fried plantain chips*

Fix the shrimp as noted above, drain. In a bowl, mix the ketchup, olive oil, vinegar, and sugar, making sure the sugar dissolves. Drain the shrimp and put into a serving bowl. Add the lime and orange juices, then the onion and corn kernels, mix well. Chill the shrimp in the refrigerator. Add the ketchup mixture and cilantro, stirring well again. You can chill the dish further before serving. Serve with the plantain chips on the side.

* Plantain chips are common in many Latino countries and communities, including among Latino Americans, especially Puerto Ricans, both in Puerto Rico and on the mainland. To make: 2 green plantains, peeled and very thinly sliced. Enough corn oil (I used canola oil) for an inch or 2 in a heavy duty skillet; cast iron is good for this, but not a necessity. Heat the oil, but it should not be smoking hot. Fry the chips in batches, removing them to paper towels to drain them as you go. Add Puerto Rican Adobo to taste. Puerto Rican Adobo is a type of seasoning/seasoned salt, easily available in supermarkets, although perhaps in the "Hispanic/Latino Foods" section. I deliberately put "Puerto Rican Adobo," as "adobo" can mean different things in Latino countries or in the Philippines, a country with Spanish influences (it was once a colony of Spain). The above plantain chip recipe is based on the recipe in, "A Taste of Puerto Rico," by Yvonne Ortiz, Dutton, a division of Penguin Books, 1994

 

 

WORD HISTORY: 

Amigo-This word for "friend" has an uncertain ultimate origin. It is related to "amiable," a word of Latin derivation, borrowed by English from French. While the origin of "amigo" is uncertain, it goes back to Latin "amare," meaning "to love." This then provided the basis for "amicus," meaning "friend," which became "amigo" in Spanish, a Latin-based language. English borrowed the word (via American English) in the 1830s, although it may well have been in use by some English speakers in areas like Texas, then a province of Mexico, with mixed Spanish-English speaking populations.

Excellent Brazilian Shrimp Dish: Vatapá

"Vatapá" is the name of a great Brazilian stew featuring shrimp in a somewhat sweet creamy sauce. I recently fixed this dish and I intend to do so again. For those unaware, Portuguese is the language of Brazil.* I took the basic recipe from a Brazilian cookbook, "Brazilian Food," by Thiago Castanho, Firefly Books Ltd., Buffalo, N.Y. and Ontario, Canada, 2014, but I then used my own adaptations to make a version of the dish. This is not difficult to make and I have simplified it even more, and the ingredients are all things most people already have on hand, or they are easily found in the supermarket. 

Ingredients:
2 lb. shrimp (I used frozen cooked shrimp in the 41/50 size, with tail shell on, which I removed after thawing the shrimp and before adding them to the recipe)
3 or 4 slices of dried French or Italian bread
Panko bread crumbs (plain/non seasoned), if needed
8 oz. coconut milk (plus some water)
8 to 10 oz. clam juice (or homemade seafood stock)
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 small onion, minced or chopped
1 large garlic clove, minced
2 Roma or other small tomatoes, seeded and diced
1 or 2 mild chili peppers or 1 mild and 1 serrano, seeded and chopped
1 or 2 bay leaves
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon Sazón with culantro and achiote (easily found in Latino markets or in the Latino section of your supermarket or Latino shops)
(2 teaspoons palm oil, not palm kernel oil. I skipped using the palm oil completely.)
salt and pepper
1/4 cup of cilantro leaves, torn into pieces
1/4 cup basil leaves, torn into pieces
Serve with white rice (I added some onion and garlic, as per the cookbook, to the general recipe I use for white rice, which includes a little butter and some oil, besides the rice, water and a little salt).

First, the cookbook recipe calls for making homemade shrimp stock, made from the heads and shells of the shrimp. I have simply used store bought clam juice. Tear or cut the bread into smaller pieces, put it into a dish and pour the coconut milk over it, plus add 1 cup of water. Let the bread soak while you fix another part of the recipe. Using a large saucepan, heat the olive oil and then add the onion, then a minute or so later, the garlic, the tomatoes and the chili peppers. Saute to let the mixture soften. Add the shrimp and the clam juice and mix well. Add the bay leaf (or leaves). Bring mixture to a low simmer and then add the cumin, the Sazón, a pinch of salt and some black pepper (also the palm oil, if using). Add the bread mixture, stirring well to incorporate. The bread should thicken the dish into a sauce, but if it does not thicken properly (it should be pretty thick), stir in some Panko breadcrumbs a little at a time until the mixture does thicken. I had to use the breadcrumbs when I made this. The sauce should have a yellowish color to it. Stir in the cilantro and basil leaves. Cook for just a minute, and you're done. Serve with the white rice. If you want the dish to look nice, withhold a few shrimp from the recipe, cook them separately in some water and then add them to the top of each serving as a garnish, as I've done in the photo below. 

* Portuguese is a Latin-based language that developed in the Iberian Peninsula in western Europe. It is closely related to Spanish, but even more so to Galician, a language primarily spoken in northwest Spain. Brazil was once a colony of Portugal, and Brazil has the distinction of being the largest Portuguese speaking country in the world. Portuguese is from the Indo European family of languages, and thus it is related to English, but further down the family tree.  

 

WORD HISTORY:
Shrimp-This word for a "generally small, narrow shellfish" is related to "scrimp." The ultimate origin of "shrimp" is unclear, and its overall history is a bit "iffy," but Old Germanic had "skrimpanan," which had the notion of "to make smaller, to shrink." From this came Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "scrimman," which meant "to shrink." Whether a form of this English word then later produced "schrimpe" is not known, but that form later became modern "shrimp." Forms of the word in the other Germanic languages have a "p" sound,^ and it is "possible" that an English form of the word did too, but that that word had not been recorded by the educated part of English society from post Norman invasion times, when French and Latin were the preferences of the heavily Norman based nobility and high society. Of course it is also possible that even if the English word lacked the "p" sound, that the influence of its mainland Germanic relatives could have altered the English word, giving it the "p" sound, as the English traded with, and came into contact with, speakers of other Germanic languages, especially Flemish, Dutch, Frisian, Low German and Old Norse.         

^ The other Germanic languages do not use a form of the word for the shellfish.    

Hot Buttered Crab, Great Seafood Recipe

 I added 2 new photos and I added a little more info to the recipe, 7-7-22

 

Hot Buttered Crab
I jotted down this recipe sometime in the late 1990s from the television cooking show "Two Fat Ladies," which was filmed in England by and for the BBC, but carried on The Food Network in the United States. The show had Clarissa Dickson Wright and Jennifer Paterson, two English cooks, traveling around England and parts of Britain fixing dishes in various settings. Regrettably, Ms. Paterson, a heavy smoker, died of lung cancer and so the series ended. I'm certain I did not copy down every exact detail of the recipe, as they used whole cooked crabs, for one thing, so let's just say this is my version, but if you live in an area where crab is easily obtained and it doesn't cost a week's pay per pound ... hey, go for it. Crab is expensive and not always readily available in many parts of the country at a decent price (ah, maybe nowhere at a decent price?), so I have learned to use a mixture of imitation crab (actually spelled "c-h-e-a-p-e-r") and canned or lump crab meat. Crab has a delicate flavor, so you won't really be cheated by using imitation mixed with some real crab. I've made this recipe at least 3-5 times a year since I saw that show. I'd say you could also use this recipe for a firm flesh white fish.

About 2 lbs or so of mixed imitation and real crab meat (always check for shell bits)
1 clove of garlic, chopped
2 anchovy fillets* chopped
1/2 to 1 stick butter**
about 1/4 cup white wine***
juice of one lemon
some lemon zest (this is strictly my idea, but it adds a little more fresh lemon flavor and you've already got the lemon anyhow; I suggest 1 teaspoon zest up to 1 tablespoon, if you like lemony taste)
hot sauce (this is what they used on the television show, but I use some minced, fresh hot peppers, like serranos or jalapenos, I like spicy food, so I use 2 or 3 chilies, including the seeds)
couple ounces of bread crumbs (I believe they made their own on the show, but I use store bought, and the sun has always come out again at some point)
salt (don't forget, the anchovies will add some salt, so I don't use much salt)
freshly ground black pepper to taste (I use 1/2 teaspoon)
2 to 3 tablespoons freshly chopped parsley (or if you only have dried parsley, use it, you'll live through it, I have)

Start by sautéing the garlic, the anchovies and the hot peppers (if you use hot pepper sauce instead, add it a little later) in some butter (or butter/canola oil) until the garlic softens and the anchovies melt and blend in, gradually add the rest of the butter + the wine, the lemon juice and lemon zest. Allow the mixture to heat up, then add the crab meat a little at a time and stir gently until the crab is coated. Then gently mix in about half of the bread crumbs and some parsley. If I remember right, on the show they then took the crab mixture and put it into the crab shells they had kept. You can put the mixture into a casserole or some baking dish. In either case, top the mixture with the rest of the bread crumbs and parsley and put under the broiler for a few minutes until browned.

* Don't panic if you don't like anchovies. Used in cooking, anchovies melt away and add flavor, but not the strong flavor many undoubtedly associate with anchovy pizza, or when used directly on salads. You can also soak them in a bit of milk for a few minutes to remove some of the salt, if you'd like.

** Or you can substitute some canola oil (or other neutral oil) for some of the butter. I wouldn't use olive oil, as it has flavor, but canola is a neutral oil.

*** When I wrote the recipe down, I wrote white vermouth, as that must have been what they used, but since I first tried this, I've used different varieties of white wine, including some a bit sweeter, and the world hasn't ended. The later addition of the bread crumbs will help absorb any excess liquid if the mixture seems too moist at first. 

WORD HISTORY:
Crab-This word for the multi-legged, double clawed sea creature goes back to Indo European "gerebh/gerbh," which meant "to scratch, to carve, to dig into." This gave its Old Germanic offspring "krabho," which "seems" to have developed along the Germanic speaking seacoast areas of northern Europe, as the high German dialects apparently borrowed the term from Low German.^ The name naturally came about from the notion of the claws "scratching or digging into something," hopefully not your finger. The Old Germanic form gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "crabba," which then became "crabbe" (the ending "e" likely pronounced "eh/ah"), before the modern version. The perception of the crab to be a bit cantankerous for the quick use of its claws brought use of the word for such a person. The "crab" of "crab apple" is likely a different word that simply came to be spelled that way by chance, or by influence of "crab." The other Germanic languages have: German "Krabbe" (crab, but also often used in every day language for shrimp from the North Sea) and "Krebs" (crab, but also crayfish when speaking of a river/stream), both forms came to High German from Low German; Low German "Krabb" (crab, but also small shrimp) and "kreevt" (crab, crayfish); Dutch "krab" (crab) and kreeft (crayfish); Danish "krabbe(r)" (crab) and "krebs" (crayfish); Norwegian "krabbe" (crab) and "kreps" (crayfish); Icelandic "krabbi" (crab); and Swedish "krabba" (crab) and "kräfta" (crayfish).   

^ Naturally this would make sense, as the speakers of the high dialects were further south, away from the sea; thus they would have had no need for a name for a creature they didn't have near them. Undoubtedly travel and trade gave them the necessity for such a word, which they then conveniently borrowed from their close relative, Low German.