There are certain foods that just grab you and never let go. Foods that are simple, quick and nutritious. I’m thinking of tuna fish out of the can, macaroni and cheese, and, of course, that old favorite: peanut butter and jelly. No one knows who was the first to combine these two ingredients between two slices of bread. Bread and jelly has been with us since time immemorial. Peanut butter wasn’t invented until 1890. But whoever thought up this combination , to me they deserve the honor and veneration of a saint.

I’ve been a fan of peanut butter and jelly since I was knee high to a tabletop. I survived the ordeal of Marine Corps Boot camp mainly due to copious helpings of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

The historical records state that the first written written reference to this snack was in 1901. By the 1930s commercial brands of peanut butter such as Peter Pan and Skippy had already been introduced. It was one of the top kid’s meal during the Depression. During World War II, G.I.’s were given rations of both peanut butter and jelly, and after the war sales of both products soared.

Today, according to the National Peanut Board, an the average kid eats 1,500 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches before they graduate from high school. It’s understandable. What’s easier than to spread a glob of peanut butter and jelly on white bread? Fast, no mess (usually) and delicious. Add to that, peanut butter is a great source of protein.

Then there’s the old argument about what type of peanut butter is best. I prefer the chunky style, while my wife prefers creamy peanut butter. Really, it’s an innocuous argument—they’re both good. What I cannot understand are those people who cut off the crust from the sides of the bread. Where did that come from? It’s like having watercress sandwiches at some fancy afternoon tea. Don’t get me wrong. I like watercress sandwiches, and I’m a tea drinker. But bread without the crust? I don’t get it.

Friends, I don’t think it’s necessary for me to put up a peanut butter and jelly recipe. Children and adults have been doing this combo for years. But, coming from New York, there is something that I really enjoy (and which purists may frown upon)–I enjoy peanut butter and jelly on bagels (especially cinnamon-raisin).

Oh, by the way, in the United Kingdom, Canada and Australia, peanut butter and jelly is known as a “peanut butter and jam sandwich.” Whatever.

Image via Wikipedia

Recently a friend shared an on-line article with me about a young man who was thinking of taking up the study of a Chinese martial art. The young man diligently decided to check out some schools before he made his decision. He stated that at the first school he visited, the sifu (teacher) informed that in his school students learned to kill with a single touch and they could drive chopsticks through walls. The young man, naturally, was rather skeptical about this, as well he should be. To anyone seeking to learn a martial art, be it karate, Jujitsu, Kung-Fu, Capoeira, kick-boxing, etc., first all all be suspicious of anyone making outlandish claims. Times are tough, even for martial arts dojos, and getting to fill the class becomes an effort in itself. And some unscrupulous teacher/instructors will go to any lengths to get you to sign that contract. Again, I go by that famous Latin dictum: Caveat Emptor (Buyer Beware).

The “death touch” the instructor was talking about has a long and fabled history in the Chinese martial arts. It is known as “Dim Mak.” Supposedly, it is a technique that involved striking pressure points and meridians in order to incapacitate or even kill the opponent. At its advanced level, it not only kills the opponent outright but can be used to delay the person’s death until a given time. How is this done? The basic theory is to disrupt the Qi or Chi, the basic energy flow in the body. This energy courses through the body’s meridians, and if one can disrupt the flow, one can cause stagnation of the Qi and thereby induce fatal injury. The technique depends upon striking precise locations at an appropriate time of day during which specific Qi points are open and thus vulnerable to attack. It is a relatively easy matter to learn the stationary vital points, but to understand the “fatal” moving parts is a whole other thing and rather complex. Thus there is a healthy skepticism with regard to Dim Mak and its usage.

Whether one believes in the power of the death touch or not, if that’s the first thing the instructor throws at you, go for the door. First and foremost, at its ideal level, the study of a martial art, especially if it is lethal, is to develop one’s character and ability—not to advance or propose harm to anyone. In our school, The Chinese Kung-Fu Wu-Su Association, we tell our students that the only person they are competing against is themselves, no one else. First, know thyself, then you know others. We don’t create fighting machines—although our students can defend themselves if they have to—the goal is create complete positive individuals who will propagate a noble and ancient art. I am naive enough to believe that should be the goal of all martial arts instruction.

With 35+years experience in Shaolin style Wu-Su, twenty of them an an instructor, I’ve formulated some guidelines when looking for a good school:

1. Beware of exaggerated claims. If it’s a Karate school and they promise you a Black Belt within a short time (let’s say, four months or less) and charge you beforehand—head for the door. If they promise to make you a fighting machine within a month (or whatever time)—head for the door. And more particularly, if they categorically state that their style or art is better or more effective than anything out there—head for the door. All martial arts are equally good. No one art is better than any other. It doesn’t depend on the style or system, it depends on the individual and his or her training. You can have a superb judo stylist take on a mediocre Kung Fu guy, and the judo stylist will win—and vice versa. In my early days I once took on a boxer, and I didn’t have that much experience using my hands. All I had were kicks—and I got my head handed to me. Now I know better, I work my hands as well as my legs.

2. Beware of a school that insists you sign a commitment for a specific period of time with the money up front for that time period. This is patently dishonest.

3. Some schools require that you sign a contract. Usually it’s an agreement that you abide by the school’s rules, regulations, procedures, mode of behavior, etc. There is nothing wrong with that. But some contracts may have hidden fees or other additions. Read the contract carefully; and have the instructor explain to you any part that you may not understand or hold suspect. If you’re not satisfied—head for the door.

4. Beware of a school that charges you for “incidentals”—extra instructions, extra for a lesson plan, extra for “inside knowledge.” It is perfectly respectable for the school to sell uniforms, additional equipment, weaponry, medicines, etc. But when they start charging for the lesson plan itself above and beyond what was agreed—head for the door.

5. Do not go with the first school you visit, even if you are absolutely sure this is the school you want. In our Association we encourage our prospective students to shop and compare. If possible, visit as many schools as you can in order to get a wide ranging view of what’s available.

6. Most of all, go with your gut. Some schools may be in a better location than others, some may have a more accommodating schedule, some may be bigger than others, some may seem cleaner than others. Take it all in and make the appropriate decision based on what your gut and instincts tells you. And, if you find out the program is not for you, then seek another.

Again, these are just basic common sense rules. I don’t claim they are the end-all and be-all of martial training. Just be open-minded, conscientious, and aware. And, whatever training you have, don’t rush. Most of us have our whole lives to learn a basic style or a combination of styles. Take your time at it, absorb it all, and the rewards will be never-ending.

No recipes today, no comments on martial arts. Just one brief announcement. The Cannes Film Festival has a short film (5.56 min. long) that is being heavily discussed. The title: “The Story of a Sign” (La Historia de un Letrero). Simply put, the film is about the power of words, even when one is down and out in this society. I would suggest you catch it on www.youtube.com, scan it, review it, and see what you think. The film, and topic, speak for itself.

Yes, the title is correct: cooking rice. What is fascinating about rice is that there are so may varieties, over 7,000 in fact. I was weaned on the traditional long grain variety. But there’s Arborio (short grain, used in Italian cooking); Basmati (Indian); Jasmine (South Asian); wild rice (which is not a true rice but a water grass; brown rice (unprocessed), round grain; ad infinitum. And there are as many ways to make a basic rice dish as there are cooks on the planet.

Still, some people have difficulty making perfect steamed rice. And I don’t mean the starchy Chinese or Japanese type which is held together in clumps so that it’s easier for the chopsticks. I’m talking about perfectly cooked grains that (as my Uncle Phillip used to say) you can count individually. So for all you folks out there who have always had this problem (and there many of you out there), I have three tried-and-true methods which will get you as good a result as you can get. All you gotta do is experiment.

All three recipes are from my cookbook, Puerto Rican Cuisine in America (Avalon Books).

Recipe I (My mother’s method):

1 cup rice

2 cups water

2 teaspoons salt

3 tablespoons olive oil

1. Wash rice at least three times in cold water and drain to rid of starch. What in Pennsylvania Dutch country is known as “washing in several waters.”

2. In a heavy kettle or pot, heat water and add the salt.

3. When water is at a roiling boil, add rice. Stir and bring to a second boil.

4. Let it cook, uncovered, at high heat until water is absorbed (about 5-8 minutes).

5. Add olive oil. Stir and simmer, covered, on low heat for 10 minutes more or until tender.

Yield: 2 servings for big eaters; 3 servings for light waters

Recipe II (My Aunt Fanny’s method)

2 cups rice

3 tablespoons olive oil

Water to cover rice

Salt to taste

1. Wash rice and drain to rid of starch.

2. Heat olive oil in a heavy kettle or pot. Add rice and stir until grains are opaque.

3. Add water to cover rice by 1/4 to 1/2 inch. Add salt to taste.

4. Bring to a boil. Cover and simmer, on low heat, until water is absorbed (about 20 minutes).

Yield: 4 servings for big eaters; 6 servings for light eaters.

Recipe III (My Cousin Yvonne’s method):

2 cups rice

4 cups water

2 teaspoons salt

3 tablespoons olive oil

1. Wash rice and drain to rid of starch.

2. Bring water and salt to a roiling boil.

3. Add rice plus olive oil. Stir and bring to a second boil. Cover and simmer on low heat until water is absorbed (20-30 minutes).

4. Uncover and continue cooking for 5 minutes more.

Yield: 4 servings for big eaters; 6 servings for light eaters.

They are numerous avocado varieties out there. My favorite are of the West Indian type, especially the “Butler” which is grown in Puerto Rico. It’s medium large, a glossy green and has a smooth skin. I also like the “Itzamma,” also produced in the island. This one is very large with a rough skin and a very attractive yellow flesh. The most common avocados as of late are the Hass variety (it was first cultivated in California in 1926). They are found almost everywhere. Here, in the wilds of Vermont, where my wife and I spend the summers, that is the only type we can get. I am not a particular fan of this variety. But, it’ll do in a pinch when nothing else is available. It’s akin to the experience I had years ago when I visited a friend in Montana. There were no New York style bagels to be had. We had to eat Lender’s frozen bagels. And, guess what, they weren’t too bad since there was nothing else. One must adjust to the circumstances.

If you’re not too sure about picking out a ripe avocado, simple: press on the skin. If there is a slight indentation, then it’s ripe. Another method (especially with large avocados) is to hold them to your ear and shake them. If you hear the pit moving inside, it’s ripe. Do not select over-ripe avocados—those with a dark purplish almost black skin and that are soft and mushy to the touch.

Below is an avocado-crabmeat salad from my first cookbook, Puerto Rican Cuisine in America. If you can’t find or afford fresh lump crabmeat, canned crabmeat will do. The dish goes great with steamed white rice.

1 pound fresh lump crabmeat

Summertime and the livin’ is easy—barbecues, ball games and BEER. Unfortunately, beer has always been portrayed as the poor man’s drink. A beverage for the masses. Maybe that’s true, and maybe it’s not. But you know what?—beer has a royal, historical pedigree. It just ain’t joe six-pack in front of the boob tube swigging Bud and watching football. Beer is, in fact, the oldest and most widely consumed alcoholic beverage. It is older than wine. It is older than tea, or coffee. Tell that to you high fallutin’ friends the next time they sniff up their noses while drinking Cabernet.

Beer, according to the historical record, was discovered by the ancient Sumerians, and was produced, in quantity, 5,500 years ago in Iran. Sumer (or Sumeria) was an ancient kingdom laying between the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers in what is known as Mesopotamia in the Middle East. It is here that the oldest evidence of beer drinking in found, in a 4,000 year old Sumerian tablet showing people drinking beer through straws (see caption above).

But beer was more than a drink for the great unwashed. It was a “divine nectar” favored by their gods. In the ancient Epic of Gilgamesh, the earliest work of literary fiction which dates from about 2150-2000 B.C.E., the hero of the saga, Gilgamesh, meets a wild man in the forest, Enkidu, who is eventually civilized by eating cooked food and drinking—guess what?—beer. The poem says that he “drank seven pitchers of beer, his heart grew light, and his face glowed and he sang with joy.” Sounds like a beer bash in the local pub or college dorm. And there’s more. The Sumerians had a prayer to the goddess Ninkasi. The prayer, found in 3,900 year old tablets, and known as “The hymn to Ninkasi,” serves both as a prayer and a method of remembering a recipe for beer (and this in a culture with few literate folk). Ponder that one the next time you chug Coors Light.

It could be said that beer was instrumental in our evolution from a primitive to a more advanced society. The Code of Hammurabi (Codex Hammurabi), one of the first set of ancient written laws (from Babylon c. 1790 B.C.E.), included ordinances regulating beer and beer parlors (read that, bars). There is even a theory that beer saved the nascent religion that gave rise to our Judeo-Christian tradition. It puts forth that the manna that God had sent from heaven to save the wondering Israelites after they left Egypt was a bread-based porridge-like beer called wusa. Next time you go for services to the church or synagogue, hit the congregation with that one.

Beer was vital to all ancient grain growing societies. It was the main beverage in ancient Egypt where it was made from barley. The Africans made it from millet, the Chinese used wheat, and the Japanese used rice. It was brewed by the ancient Greeks and Romans, who called it cerevisia, from the Celtic word for it. That’s very similar to the Spanish word for beer, cerveza. It was a common drink during the Middle Ages and popular in the northern and eastern parts of Europe, where it gave rise to another popular legend, that of Gambrinus (1371-1419). Also known as John the Fearless, he is believed to be the inventor of hopped malt beer and the unofficial patron saint of beer. Whether this is true or not, is open to debate. We do know that though beer was made from various grains it wasn’t until the 9th century that hops (flower cones from the hop plant) were added for flavoring and also as a preservative. The method was perfected by the Germans in the 13th century which made for longer lasting beer that could be exported.

Today beer is consumed worldwide, with all kinds of brews, from high end to low end. So, the next time you open up that six-pack, remember that you, too, are partaking of a beverage of the gods.

Included is a recipe, Cabro Boraccho (Drunken Goat), from my first cookbook, Puerto Rican Cusine in America (Avalon Books). The recipe calls for a light lager beer. Dark ales are not recommended. Save that for savoring in the glass. Goat meat can be found in Caribbean or Middle Eastern markets, or you can order it from your local butcher.

CABRO BORRACHO (DRUNKEN GOAT)

3 pounds goat meat, trimmed and cut into 1-inch chunks1/2 cup white vinegar 1/2 cup white vinegar or lemon juice
Salt and ground black pepper to taste
3 cloves garlic, peeled and minced
1 tablespoon dried oregano
1/2 cup olive oil
1 8-ounce can tomato sauce
1 medium onion, peeled and chopped
6 fresh cilantro leaves, chopped
2 bay leaves
2 12-ounce can lager beer
4 medium potatoes, peeled and quartered
6 carrots, peeled and quartered

1. Rinse meat under cold running water and pat dry with paper towels.
2. Sprinkle meat chunks with vinegar or lemon juice. Cover and refrigerate for at least four hours or, better still, overnight.
3. Drain, rinse again in cold water and pat dry with paper towels.
4. Season with salt, pepper, garlic and oregano.
5. Heat oil in a heavy kettle or Dutch oven. Add goat meat and brown evenly on moderate heat (about 4 minutes).
6. Add tomato sauce, onion, cilantro, bay leaves and beer. Stir to combine.
7. Bring to a boil, cover and simmer on low heat for 1 hour or until fork tender.
8. Add potatoes and carrots. Cook another 30 minutes. If the sauce is not thick enough, uncover and cook until sauce thickens. Serve over rice or on its own with crusty bread.
Yield: 4 or more servings.