Global Cuisine

thousandhillscoverJosh Ruxin did not write a book about food, although his story takes place against a backdrop of heart-wrenching hunger and Eden-esque abundance, tracing a journey from famine to feast.

He did not write a book about restaurants, although he tells how two American ex-pats created one of the hippest dining establishments in Africa.

He did not set out to write about good and evil, but his book describes one of the most horrific genocides in human history, and the astonishing efforts of both the victims and their persecutors to find forgiveness and redemption.

He didn't even write a love story, although A Thousand Hills to Heaven centers on two people who are very much in love—young Americans you might meet at a party, endowed with the same hearts, brains, and DNA as you or I—but who found the strength to work a thousand miracles in a land God forgot.

And he certainly didn't write a cookbook, but he concludes his story with six recipes that will make you want to head for your kitchen and light your grill to try them.

What he did write is one of the most extraordinary narratives of hope I have read in decades—a book that, just for reading it, makes you aspire to be a better person.

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lisamccree.jpgHere’s a true confession: Sometimes I really miss the ‘80s. Okay. Maybe I don’t miss the Crystal Carrington hair, the Donna Mills eye shadow, or the chandelier earrings that looked like they should hang over Trump’s dining table. (What are they made of? Foil?? And look! A matching necklace! I could be Queen of  QVC!)

But I did have a great time as an anchor and reporter in Dallas in the ’80′s, and do miss the group of girlfriends who joined me after the 5 o’clock news as we ate our way around the Dallas/Ft. Worth Metroplex.

Of all the places we haunted, I think our favorite was Javier’s. Very upscale for Mexican restaurants of that time, it was decidedly old school and elegant in a Mexico City kind of way. There, you wouldn’t find tacos or quesadillas …but rich moles, luscious grilled steaks stuffed with roasted chilies and cheese, and pulled pork that was cooked in a seasoned sauce for so long that it didn’t just melt in your mouth, it melted on your fork on it’s way there.

tomatillosalsa_close.jpgBut Javier knew, whenever we walked in, that more than the meats or moles, all we really craved was a bucket (or two) of chips and big bowl (or 2) their warm tomatillo sauce. There was no day at work, no traffic so bad or no break-up so fierce, that this sweet yet spicy sauce wouldn’t cure it. It was our Magic Green Elixir.

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friedriceinbowlSometimes a huge craving for Chinese food can be settled with a simple bowl of fried rice.

But before you even think about pulling over for any belt busting take-out Chinese like Panda Express, you need to know that a mere cup and a quarter of their fried rice, even with no meat, has 570 calories!!! That’s one third of the calories my 5’5 self should have in a whole day!!

Instead, make this skinny fried rice–loaded with veg and protein– in just minutes, at home.

By skipping almost all of the oil, using Egg Beaters instead of whole eggs, and using a mix of Cauliflower Rice and Brown Rice, you can have the full taste of take out…but for only 120 calories a cup! If this delish dish doesn’t convince you that learning how to make Cauliflower Rice and Magic Rice is worth the wee bit of effort,  nothing will!

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5spicetilapiaIf you are looking for a quick evening meal packed with flavor, you've found it.

A blend of Chinese five-spice powder, soy sauce and brown sugar make a quick glaze for tilapia, leaving you with sugar-coated crusted piece of fish....it's delightful!

Five-spice powder is a blend of cinnamon, cloves, fennel seed, star anise and Szechuan peppercorns and is available in all grocery stores in the spice aisle.

Already full of flavor, slip this piece of fish between a toasted-buttered bun for an incredible fish sandwich, you won't be disappointed.

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final-peacocks-coverEver wonder what it would be like to marry a man who grew up in a palace? I did exactly that when I wed Ajay Singh, a fellow journalist who had grown up in Old Delhi and the Himalayas. Throughout the 1990's, I even lived for weeks at a time behind the rusted wrought-iron gates of the Singh family's one-hundred-room Indian palace.

Ajay and I met when we were both worked at Time Inc.'s newsweekly Asiaweek in Hong Kong. Although I knew very little about my fiancé or his family background, we still got engaged within three months of meeting at a company offsite event. A few months after this engagement, I discovered that not only did Ajay grow up in a rambling old 19th-century grand manor on the outskirts of Delhi, but also that we were now set to inherit the grandest wing of the house.

It may sound like a fairytale but, of course, there's always the fine print. Mokimpur - as the house is called - turned out to be not much of a fantasy palace. Believe me, it was no luxurious showcase of velvet daybeds, gilt-framed portraits of maharajas and other lofty ancestors, and sweeping palm-dotted landscapes. Instead, it was more of a sprawling moldy tear down, with hot-and-cold running mosquitoes, belligerent peacocks, and the odd royal ghost or two.

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