CHEF JPS CUBAN STREET FOOD REVOLUTION
Chef JP is having a food love affair in Havana … and, having discovered the perfect reflection of Art Deco architecture, often grubby beauty and olde worlde charm in his home town of Durban, he has combined the two to create his own brand of street food fusion.
It’s crazy to think that a small island on the Tropic of Cancer could capture as much imagination as Cuba has. Perhaps, after decades of decadence, being hidden behind its own Caribbean style iron curtain and all but socialised created a special kind of magic. Isolated from the world but still a place where the sun – and the fun – refused to set, this tropical paradise disappeared into something of a time warp becoming the place where classic cars, colour and charisma were the order of the day…
While, those that had fled the dictatorship of the notorious Fidel Castro arrived in America and set up home in the likes of Miami (another great haven of art deco and palms), Cuban culture continued with the vibes of the Caribbean and South America coming together to keep everyone curious about just what might be happening in the legendary streets of Havana.
It comes as no surprise, then, that Cuba is known for its gastronomic delights with a food culture that is all about sexy tasty delicacies. The word that probably describes it better is antojitos – little street cravings. This is a traditional culinary culture that reflects the true essence of tasty street food driven by the people.
If you peek a little more closely, you’ll see that the food is nevertheless delicately crafted and served up and element of surprise and delight in every little bite.
DURBAN DOES HAVANNA
On the other side of the world, on the tropic of Capricorn, you’ll find the city of Durban where, during the early sixties, a different kind of street vibe flourished alongside the Indian Ocean. This biggest port city in Africa (at the time) came with its own set of political complications, ramifications and palpitations but it was also a meeting point of colourful cultures, a large dollop of decorative art deco and just as many beat up old buggies and beetles.
These were the days of Surf City, the Tropicale roadhouse, the Gunston 500 (when cigarettes ads were alright and surfers were kiff) and a night club culture that was spreading slowly across the city’s Golden Mile.
During the sixties, the most (and almost unwitting) Cuban landmark of all was the Cuban Hat located right beside the waves along the promenade and offering the beginnings of street fare in the form of toasties, pies and other seemingly unimaginative snacks by today’s standards.
It was frequented by the so-called Cuban Hat Society which, believe it or not, continues on to this day.
Take it from me, family gatherings tell me there are still so many untold stories about the DÚrban of old, port city and powder keg of cultures that combined when no-one was looking and beach benches weren’t reserved with offensive signage.
The Cuban Hat presided over a beachfront that had a wacco sense of humour, colourful art deco architecture, classic cars and art nouveau street food culture. This was the era of beach bums and coconut laced suntan lotion, James Dean style sunglasses and rickshaw riders with paying passengers.
This blog is a somewhat melancholic tribute to the many memories of the old Durban that have been shared with me. As a chef, I would be so delighted to go back in time and embrace the food culture of the time both in Durban and in Havana – opposites sides of the globe, the political spectrum and the culinary world.
Here’s to a tot of (white) rum to the good old days and embracing the sexy and sultry nuances of the sixties in both cities with some modern day recipes. We’re raising a toast to the members of the Cuban Hat Society and to those who simply sit back and wish that the sun would rise on the fun and funky city of old without the self-conscious political innuendos.
It’s also a tribute to the city of Havana that has rejoined the world with mischievous aplomb and the courage to be itself.
No matter what side of the world you are on, freedom is fun in the sun and the freedom to leave nothing more than your footprints in the sand …
THE CUBAN MAD HATTER
Okay, I’ll admit it, creating this did make me a little crabby …
After all, attempting to make a Cuban hut seafood pie is definitely not for the fainthearted. Attention to detail and plenty of patience are needed – not to mention meticulous moulding techniques. With all of the above, you can roll out your dough until it matches your (real or imagined) Cuban hat mould.
Once all is in shape, let it bake for 20 minutes at 180°C or until you have the perfect Cuban hat shaped inner pie.
To make the filling, clean your orange crab and cook it perfection in a side pan. Balance your red onions, garlic and corn kernels, add
Okay, I’ll admit it, creating this did make me a little crabby …
After all, attempting to make a Cuban hut seafood pie is definitely not for the fainthearted. Attention to detail and plenty of patience are needed – not to mention meticulous moulding techniques. With all of the above, you can roll out your dough until it matches your (real or imagined) Cuban hat mould.
Once all is in shape, let it bake for 20 minutes at 180°C or until you have the perfect Cuban hat shaped inner pie.
To make the filling, clean your orange crab and cook it perfection in a side pan. Balance your red onions, garlic and corn kernels, add some turmeric and ginger powder and 2 Tablespoons of sweet chill sauce plus 2 teaspoons of fish sauce. Simmer and continuously stir in to a paste, adding some lemon and orange wedges to add zest and zing.
To assemble, add your crab filling with precision. Season with some fresh lime, chopped chilli and selantre for aromatics.
REVOLUTIONARY CHARRED SWEETCORN
Otherwise known as the Culinary Cuban Missile Crisis! Seriously, a chilli, lemon grass and lime sauce adds a Cuban heat and a zesty zing to one of the most basic street foods around the world – a wood smoked corn cob charred over an open flame.
To whip up that crisis sauce, gut your favourite chilli, remove the seeds with a paring knife, and dice them finely. Shred some lemongrass by banging the stem with a hard object (being objective, of course). Add some freshly squeezed lime juice and mix it all up, ready to pour over your flame grilled corn.
COPPA CABANA CUBAN SANDWICH
The ultimate Cuban classic sandwich is also notoriously known as the Cubano.
I find this to be a tad geo-politically interesting as it reflects a German influence with a ham and pickle sandwich that meets a New York classic – the beef pastrami sandwich. I’ve mixed it up a notch and used a combination of the classics.
The bread that binds this classic sandwich is known as a tostada – a toasted ciabatta – and is layered with Swiss cheese and smoked Coppa ham.
Drizzle your oil and some butter on your ciabatta, add some ground garlic, cumin and smoked paprika. Then, toast it to golden brown perfection. Add a folded layer of smoked ham, Swiss cheese and a dollop of mustard on the open side of the roll. Squeeze some lime juice over the filling and drizzle some honey over. Add some cumin salt and pepper and toast the sandwich in a sandwich press.
Finally, drizzle some more lime juice and garnish with some dill infused gerkins, salt and pepper to taste. This is fusion of a savoury delights that are perfectly melted ad ready to serve.
CHE QUEVARA TACO BELL
Easy to eat street food was the way to revolutionise cuisine. While the not-so-creative Durbanites were gathering at the Cuban Hat to munch what they regarded as the ultimate cheese and tomato toastie, the Cubans had ramped things up a notch. Backed by the fact that they were a Spanish colony back in the day, the classic taco was anything but a foreigner. A bit of tapas style bite, slowly marinated pulled pork served in a fresh crispy taco with seasonal avocados, garlic and lime mayonnaise and a rosemary salsa verde (fresh chopped chillies, rosa tomatoes and red onion) made that perfect lunch time treat.
BELLY UP SKEWERS!
Pork is undoubtedly the most enjoyed protein on the island.
Traditionally, on Christmas Day, a whole pig was slowly cooked over a fire pit ahead of a decadent feast.
Once the Bay of Pigs invasion had gone belly up and the last opposition to Fidel Casto’s regime snuffed out, Christmas was no longer a major event in Cuba.
But, when socialism decided to be social again and the Cuban regime opened its borders to tourism, Cuba and Havanna in particular, became a travellers hot spot. Christmas was revived with open arms. and celebrated with the whole hog. A myriad of delicious pork dishes found their way back on to restaurant tables.
Instead of pigging out, I’ve decided to do a pig on a stick – some tender pork belly, pepper and lime skewers. This is not just rich in colour but also in flavour.
Cut your crispy pork belly into one inch size cubes, fold your evenly shaped peppers around your wooden skewer. Drizzle with some fresh lime and season with salt and pepper. You can serve them on some colourful steamed red cabbage leaves
Nos pillamos (or ‘see you just now’ in Durban speak) … next Friday, we’ll be dishing up another Cuban street food feast with a dash of Durbs by the Sea. Think prawns and citrus and Cuban cigars with a twist…
