New Maitu logo and design..

All Thanks and Love to Sister Renay for the new MaituFoods cards and Logos..forwarding on
For graphic work inquiries link Renay at renaylon@gmail.com

Home

I cried the first time I saw the ocean, reminiscing on her East African sister. Then sweet and sudden it hits you...that smell. That familiar aroma of fresh clams being roasted on a makeshift grill. The scent of the sea mixed with the smell of sweat from hardworking people. The fragrance of labor, of determination, the scent of hope in the midst and in spite of struggle. The coast. The water altar of working class people from working class places, who bleed for a dollar and struggle towards rest. Where we come for consolation and to lay our burdens as well as our bodies down at the shore. Eyes set on the majestic horizon, where dreams trod. Today the sun is kind and the winds they breeze through, mimicking the tides sway. And with them they carry the sound of children and the thump thump of Mexican Banda and Mariachi music from a muffled car sound system. The Grand Prix is in town, so the beach and streets are packed. We shuffle to our own individual rhythms to find our piece of concrete and continue on to our destinations. Street missionaries hold up signs citing "Repent for the End is here". As the wealthy sit on gated patios of seafood restaurants, unsmiling, Vans and skinny jean clad teenagers on skateboards, laugh and zig-zag through the sea of pedestrians. I'm home. Long Beach. I salute you. Its been a long time.
I can remember being a youth running in our courtyard. Every afternoon, once we children were spent from play, my downstairs neighbor would call all of us to her doorstep for a quick munch. I can still conjure up the toasted smell of flour tortillas quick fried in butter and stuffed with scrambled eggs. These days I choose to be a vegan, however i can still appreciate the tenderness and kindness associated with the gift of a meal. I never knew that woman's name, nor did we speak the same language, but the memory of her giving resounds in my mind, even now. As I sit and reflect on this memory, taking in the fullness of home, I realize there is no better way to honor this then through my own giving. Tonight's meal will be Enchiladas.
This meal holds a history for me. It's full of a richness of a people. A richness of cultures intermarried to create this beautiful decadent cuisine. It goes back all the way to the Valley of Mexico, peopled by the Mayan civilization and finds a richness in my family's hometown of Coastal Texas. The men and women of my family took this dish and made it their own, depending on the individual tastes. This is not fine restaurant cuisine. It's what you'll find at a dinner table, surrounded by family, carrying all their experiences and emotions, ready to be comforted by great food. More times than I can remember I watched my mother at the kitchen table, sweating from the heat of the over, grating, chopping and mixing for hours to prepare this dish. It conjures up memories and sounds of neighbors blasting the music of their culture. I would sit in the living room, my head feeling as if it were on the verge of exploding and the very walls seemed they would crumble each time a horn sounded. I recall a people, dancing, celebrating, ululating, singing, loving, at the moment indifferent to a work week that was a day away. And this is the food that comes from that.
In preparing the dish, I take my place in line with the men and women of my family and other families who've all prepared enchiladas with their own signature style. Now I offer mine, Vegan Enchiladas, signed, ME. Love

Vegan Enchiladas

• 2 cups of black beans (cleaned and cooked until tender, with onions, garlic, bay leaf, Mexican seasonings)
  
• Tortillas (corn or flour) for this recipe I used flour. (taco/fajita size)
• 2 cups of red chile enchilada sauce (pretty easy to make, but store-bought is not bad)
  
• Vegan cheese (rice, soy or coconut)
• 1 bunch of spinach chopped and lightly steamed
• 1/2 yellow onion diced
• 2 scallions chopped
• Handful of cilantro diced

Into each tortilla add black beans, spinach and cheese (desired amount). Roll each individual enchilada and place ends down into casserole dish. Repeat until the casserole dish is filled. Cover the entire casserole dish and each enchilada generously with the red chile sauce. Top with diced, onions, scallions, cilantro and leftover cheese. Bake in oven on 350 degrees for 20 minutes or until heated through and cheese has melted. I usually serve this with fresh pico de gallo, guacamole and Spanish rice. For variations add olives on top or diced chiles. Also this same recipe can be used with corn tortillas. However, when I use the corn tortillas I dip each individual tortilla in the chile sauce before stuffing and then also sauce on top. Injoy!!






































































Ackee Tacos

* My interpretation of a breakfast taco using ackee in place of egg or tofu.

• 3 red or russet potatoes, chopped.
• 1 can of Ackee
• 11 soft corn tortilla shells
• fresh pico de gallo
• 2 avocados diced
• 1 clove of garlic diced
• 1/2 onion chopped
  

First smother potatoes in sunflower oil with onions until tender. Season with salt and pepper. Set aside. Saute garlic in sunflower oil, add ackee and Mexican seasonings. Cook until warmed through. Also in sunflower oil (about a teaspoon) lightly toss and "fry" corn tortilla shells until slightly crispy. Once the shells are heated, stuff with potatoes, ackee, avocado and pico de gallo. Injoy!!!
















My Kitchen Sounds Like: "Working Ways" by Stephen Marley feat. Spragga Benz. Revelation Pt.1

Spring-Summer Feeling

I've decided to share this simple juice recipe that our family has been using for the last few years. It's a great energy booster, cleanser and aid for digestion. The aloe, collards and rosemary part of the recipe we received from a mother in Kenya, and the lemon and pineapple we received from Eugene's mother. We combined the recipes added a oranges (because we had an orange tree in the backyard) and now its a trusted part of our health regime.. Enjoy!

1 aloe leaf
1 ripe lemon
*1 orange
1 sprig of rosemary
20 ozs of pineapple juice
20 ozs of water
handful of collards or spinach

Remove skin from aloe, using only the inside flesh. Cut the lemon and orange into quarters. Wash rosemary and collards. Slice collards thinly. In a blender add all ingredients and blend well. The mixture will be a bit gritty and pulpy, so strain through wire mesh strainer to desired consistency. I usually strain twice.

Injoy!!


My Kitchen Sounds Like: "Undo" by Bjork, Vespertine Lp

Why Food and Music?

Information. Food and music are information. Both are primary sources of knowledge as it relates to our sojourn on this planet. Every seed, every plant, within its DNA there is the intelligence of Earth, from the ancient of days to the pre-sent. Music is the heartbeat, the pulse of life itself. It's the rhythm, the ebb and flow of this journey. Food represents light, and music is sourced through sound. Light and Sound, the manifestations of which all life and all sense of being comes into existence and is experienced in this realm. Through sound and light our perceptions are shaped, and those things tangible and intangible have medium. When mystics take on disciples and conduct of livelihood is taught the focus is on silence (or focusing our internal sound/meditation) and diet. Essential, for as the cliche has informed us we are what we eat and most certainly we are the things we take in.

Consider how many memories are tailored with a certain song and the emotions evoked. The feelings elicited by food. A smell that draws you back to childhood or a favorite space and time in life. Food and music both possess the power to heal, to comfort and to transform our realities. They create and sustain environments. Nourish and develop our nations. We fight and war in the name of them, we love to love them. We live by and through food and music. They are the source of definition for culture.

Every herb, every leaf carries the life and light code that has the power to illuminate our beings and nourish these vehicles we have been given to maintain. Agriculture is the center of any civilization. We must eat to live and therefore food is at the foundation of pushing forward any nation, any family or person towards continuation. Food holds the history of a people. It shapes the nature of how we exist, of where we exist. It has the power to unite cultures and through the breaking of bread, doors of communication have opened. Food is the fuel, it holds the blueprint to shape, mold and sustain us. Food is life, it is light.

In music, we have the combination of human thought and expression, word and sound. With these elements together, we see power manifest. There is the transmission of past, present and the possibilities of future. Music is the pipeline. It is the ancient women of the Nyabinghi order, drumming to sound the alarm. Sending messages through the night to give voice to a united front for freedom. Music is history, scripture, lifestyle, frivolous pursuits or love unrequited. Music is the channel through which we share one to another. Bob Marley sings, "Help to sing another song of freedom, all I ever have, redemption songs" In that line he calls forward to the future and addresses the present. Expressed is a moment in time where redemption was the order, the request. He seeks a time of freedom, sealing history and presenting potentials for times to come. Script says life and death are in the power of the tongue (both what you eat and say). All life vibrates on its own frequency, to express its existence. Music is life, life is sound.

Think of the appeal of music and food. How they call to the senses. With no respect of person, caste, creed, color, or station in life, they entice us equally, to nourish and inspire. The tangy sweetness of a peach. The bits of sunshine you taste with each bite. Its as if your taste buds have been illuminated. The highs of Roberta Flack as she sings "When You Smile", reminding you of that smile that you know to be kin to the sun's rays. The cool bitterness and wet firmness of aloe. The accents and sharp drives coupled with the roundness of Nina Simone as she sings "Aint No Use". Intense information and sensory overload in the same instance. And the feel of it all, indescribable, full-bodied "nice-ness". :)

Yes, Food and Music. What better way to serve life? What grander way to fuel existence? Love.

In the last 2 months my family has been traveling. Kenya, Dubai, Atlanta, Los Angeles. I've eaten everywhere it seems. There is this spot in Los Angeles called Urth Cafe (google it). They serve a really awesome Portabella Mushroom sandwich. Yum!! Here is my tip of the hat to Urth Cafe. Ingredients: A really good Ciabatta loaf. Slice it horizontally and toast it, arugula pesto (recipe below), grilled portabella mushroom sliced, roasted red peppers, romaine lettuce and grilled artichoke hearts.



Arugula Pesto

• 2 cups of arugula leaves (no steams)


• 1/2 cup of pine nuts


• 1/2 cup of olive oil


• 7 cloves of garlic peeled


• salt to taste

You have the option to toast your pine nuts lightly to get a roasted flavor. Combine all the ingredients in a food processor and mix until you have a nice consistent paste, or if you wish you can place the ingredients in a mortar and pestle, adding the olive oil slowly as you grind. Voila!! This will be the spread for your sandwich.

Grill portabellas, peppers and arugla. leaving some crunch to the veggies and some firmness to the mushroom. Spread the ciabatta with the arugula pesto and layer your sandwich as you see fit. Yum..quick and easy lunch. If you prefer to leave out the bread, you can always stir fry the mushrooms and saute them in the pesto. Place over a bed of romaine lettuce and add your favorite salad veggies. Injoy!!

My Kitchen Sounds like: The cosmos and "You Make Me Smile" by Aloe Blacc

Kenya: In Reverance of love

I've hesitated despite the questions and demands to write this all, knowing that whatever I could muster up would only serve as an injustice to the huge realities of feelings, of thoughts, of expression reserved within for her. Kenya can't be described in words. She is taste, she is feel, she is experience. And I have yet to let go, to think out or fully unravel from the hold she has on me, in order to share with you. But here we are. For Kenya, forgive my shortcomings beloved one.

My First Taste: Passion Fruit Juice
My First Fruit: Tree Tomato
My First Meal: Habesha Ethiopian

Imagine a place...The sun has not yet risen, and the cock sings his song to announce the dawning of a new day. The adhan rings out, to remind us to stay mindful of pray. To keep us in thought of thankfulness and humility before the greatness of The Creator. My first taste I know will be passion fruit or porridge. My host has created a remix that couples coconut and a variety of spices to accompany the sour cereal. I know that in these first tastes I will be comforted. Reminded of the warmth of life and the beauty in awakening to new days. Yeah, I'm a food junkie. Completely indulged in my sense of taste. It envelops me and inspires these words. It has brought me closer to family after work days. It sparks laughter and rest. Here in Kenya, the taste are new and fresh. It taste like, feels like home.
If I am to begin anywhere it is with Tata's food. Our meeting was very brief with no words passed between us (however by the end of the night she would name me Wabura), only glances. But her food left an impression on me that has planted roots in my culinary memory. What sticks out was the Pilau, Mokimo and Chapatis. The meal pulled on the part of me that longs for comfort and believes in the power of subtleties. The beauty in simplicity. I was comforted by the familiarity of a family meal and enticed by the newness of food from hands that have known another existence, in another space and time. And the flavors, textures and colors that being in that space give way to.

Nairobi offered meals with the ones I hold near to my heart. Family. It offered the opportunity to cook from fresh, local produce. She was Diamond Plaza and Meru's bhajias with fresh avocado and lime juice. Nairobi was egg less chocolate cake. She was Florence's dengu, sukuma wiki and chips. Nairobi is fashioned with memories of apple mangoes that are kin to bliss, sticky, oily jack fruit, custard apples and pineapples that taste like sunshine. With you beloved one, me and my Sun have run on trails in arboretums, eating mangoes from street vendors seasoned with chili. Our feet red from your soil as we sipped remixed porridge in the morning and traced peace signs with bamboo sticks on your pathways. Our tag, to show that we were there, loving and living. I've trailed the foothills of Mt. Kenya, and breathed the same air that fueled life to Kimathi and the Mau Mau during their freedom struggle. I've walked the roads of Zion, looking for elephants and eating guava jam and fresh fruit bought on the side of the road. I fell in love with my imagination again watching shooting stars and tracing constellations. I knew fullness, my appetites satiated by the abundance that you are Kenya.

In Nairobi there is Aga Khan's Hawkers market. One of the most beautiful things a foodie can come across. Food, fresh fruit and vegetables everywhere. Anything you can desire. Bargains, haggling and the sweetest, sweetness of fruit I have ever tasted. I grew full from all the different varieties of mango I sampled at different stalls. It was perfection. Amazing perfection. And I stood in the middle of all that motion, so still and quiet. Overwhelmed by taking it all in.

And then, and then...there is Mombasa. Ahh, stealer of hearts. Mombasa, clear water beaches and street food. Sugar cane juice fresh and squeezed from a mill by hand with hints of ginger and lime. Mombasa was warm and tender nights. Something kin to bhajias made with potatoes, and battered in lentil flour called viazi via karai, bought in front of someones home, deep fried on the spot in the yard and served with chili paste. (Catch me singing "Best I Ever Had"). Coconut water and breakfast that's more like an adventure in taste; Black beans cooked in coconut milk (mbazi) and stuffed in pastry or mandazis, rice and coconut cakes, lentil bhajias and fresh fruit. Mombasa is pleasure, unapologetic, unabashed. Mombasa is kin.

And I can go on and on. I left you reluctantly and with much strife. And my last tastes, once again, Tata. Pilau, beans and cabbage. The most simple and filling way to say farewell. There is so much more to say. Immense thanks and apprecilove that I cant convey proper. So, beloved one, I salute you dear heart. Until, until..Love

Bhajias (potato)

• 1 potato sliced in thin circles. (you can even use the slicer on a food processor)
• 1/2 cup of water
• 1 1/2 cups of gram (lentil) flour
• 1/4 cup sliced coriander leaves
• variety of spices to your taste. I reccomend any of the indian culinary spices.
• salt to taste
• 1/4 teaspoon of baking powder *key element for bhajias to rise
• sunflower oil to deep fry

With the flour and water, make a thick batter, similar to pancake batter. Stir in spices to taste. Add potatoes and make sure to coat completly. Get them completly gooey with the batter. Heat oil until its really hot. Careful not to burn, but make sure that is hot, to the point o fdeep frying. You can do a test by dropping a bit of batter in the oil. If the batter puffs up, the oil is ready. Place the bhajia batter in the oil by spoonfuls. They will rise and puff in the batter. Cook until they are a golden brown and are nice and crisp, about 3 minutes. Voila. Bhajias. Serve with chili paste, tamarind sauce any number of chutneys or my favorite kachumbari, basically salsa made up of tomatoes, chili, cilantro, garlic, onion and lime. The beauty of bhajias is that there are a many versions. A bhajia is really anything fried so try the flour batter mix with spinach or onions, really any vegetable you can think of. Injoy!!


My Kitchen sounds like "Zamaney" by JahCoozi and Ukoo Flani and "Lady of the Sun" by A Race of Angels

Ode to East Africa (beginnings of a long overdue love letter)

My first encounter with East Africa happened the Summer of 2009. I was 3 months pregnant and this was my first time out of the country (heck of an initiation). I remembering being on the plane and looking down at Ethiopia, trying to see if I could see traces of people in what appeared to be an eternity of desert. Feeling that if by some chance, something were to happen to the plane, I could say "Look ma, I did it..I made it to Africa, and as a soon to be mom to boot." Fulfilled, and it just gets better.

My plane snuck into Nairobi, my final destination at night, a few hours late from Heathrow. There she was cloaked in darkness, hidden from my expectations and only aggravating them with angst and anxiety. I would have to exercise patience and hold tight until the morning with just my quick catches of scenery ("Yo, was that a Fanta billboard?"). But before morning's revelation, she would open her arms of hospitality, like mother, like sister, like friend... My travel beaten, pregnant body was nourished by her food, laughter and a warm bath. In that instance I knew I was in love with her, and this would be a lifetime courtship.

I remember her in flashes and colors, tastes and sighs. Like the first taste of passion fruit (wow!!). Or the memory of walking her streets and the greetings of "dred" from a passing man. So quick that had it not been for my companion, I would have missed it all together. I was absorbed in the act of trying to make sense of the produce street kiosks and oncoming traffic, not to mention the richness of pedestrians and street vendors.

My husband speaks of her like she's co-wife. I see her traces and influences in his paintings. After spending time farming her land, he speaks of her as only someone who has known her intimately can. She is constant in his conversation, and through their relationship, she has become like kin to me. I remember him coming back, excited that his boots were caked with Kenyan soil. Those same boots once worn, were filled with soil and planted in our front yard with flowers, in constant remembrance.

Sometimes I see East Africa and she is like a blur, so quick our time together (2 weeks). Other times, she's so close in my memory , I can smell her near me and there is no time or space to separate us. And she has been for me, what fantasies should be. Lush, inviting, challenging, as pursuable as she is attainable. Those two weeks are forever with me. They seem to have been too soon and I left feeling like a piece of myself stayed with her. It is the season, the time for reconciliation. East Africa, we are on our way to see you again. Soon. Love.

Shiro
** The first time I had Shiro was at Habesha, a restaurant in Nairobi. It was the richest, most decadent thing I had ever tried up until that point. I've loved it since....

• 5 tablespoons Niter Kebbah (check earlier blog for recipe)
• 1 small yellow onion, diced small
• 2 tomatoes roughly chopped
• 2 garlic cloves smashed
  
• 1 tablespoon of berbere
• 1/2 cup of Shiro/chickpea flour (can find at Ethiopian Market)
  
• 3 cups of water
• salt to taste

In a medium saucepan saute onion, garlic, tomatoes and berbere in Niter Kebbeh on low heat. Stir occasionally for about 10-12 minutes until you have formed a sort of tomato sauce.
Add the shiro flour, salt and water and stir really well, making sure to get rid of any lumps. Bring to a light boil and reduce heat to low. Simmer for 1 hr or until the mixture has thickened. Injoy!! We did : )

*Finished meal of Shiro, Greens and sauteed Potatoes on Injera.

*Shiro prep and ingredients.

*Fresh Collards and Broccoli from the garden.

*Niter Kebbeh prep and ingredients.



My Kitchen Sounds Like: Gigi on Shuffle...

Winds of Change..

Autumn is here (insert “All Falls Down by Sly) and just as sure as things will fall, we are guaranteed that in accordance with natural order, things will build up.

Fall offers the opportunity to store up and prepare for Winter’s arrival. Our sustaining foods like squash/gourds, grains, and sturdy leafy greens, arrive on the scene, and we are blessed by the harvest. We are nurtured by the lessons, the beauty and color of change.
If nothing else this is a time and space for us to reassess, and there is the reminder that all pushes forward ever.

Lately in America (and Europe), ones have been faced with the growing issue of food security and the rights and question of self-sustenance. For years we have ignored food legislation, turned a blind eye to food policies in foreign countries, because we felt we were safe in our squares. All that time spent cultivating skills other than the basic ones, such as the self sufficient means to secure food, clothing and shelter, are folding over on us. People are beginning to understand that food business is no joke business.

On the Congress floor once again is legislation that has the potential to restrict our means to grow our own food and utilize or purchase herbal supplements and alternative (natural) forms of healing. It has been reported that Europe has already passed and enacted this legislation.

More than being fearful or complacent we have been blessed with another opportunity. The opportunity to reconsider and prioritize. To step into our potentials and roles of self governance. Step by step. Be it planting a seed, watching it grow and controlling your harvest. Sparking food and lifestyle cooperatives that strengthen our family and communal bonds. Or any number of activities that push us towards self-responsibility and reliance. It is the time for us to educate ourselves, to inform ourselves, but most importantly to turn towards means of healing and sustaining ourselves. The winds of change are breezing through and have carried the message that no matter which way the wind blows we are equipped to push forward in strength and I-tality. For-Iva and Iva. Love.

For the fall..Squash

Stuffed Acorn Squash
2 cups barley (1/2 red and 1/2 white), cooked
handful of pinenuts
handful of dried cranberries and/or raisins
1/2 can of coconut milk
1 teaspoon of curry powder
1/4 onion diced
2 garlic cloves diced
1 medium sized acorn squash
vegetable broth

Preheat oven at 350 degrees

In medium saucepan saute onion and garlic in 1teaspoon of olive oil on med/low heat.
Stir continuously, so as not to burn. When onion has become translucent, add barley, pinenuts, cranberries/raisins,curry powder and coconut milk mixing well and coating thoroughly. Remove from heat and set aside.

Cut acorn squash and half. Remove seeds. Stuff squash insides with barley mixture.

Drizzle the top of squash with olive oil and a bit of vegetable broth and place in casserole dish.

Bake for about an hour (or until squash is tender). Drizzling every now and again with a bit of vegetable broth.

Garnish with cilantro. Injoy!!

My Kitchen Sounds Like: “Bushman” by Midnite, “All Falls Down” by Sly and The Family Stone and “So Jah Seh” by Bob Marley.