Menu for Hope

I spend a lot of time here extolling the virtues of delicious dishes, some are simple, others more complicated, some call for fancy or expensive ingredients. But the fact of the matter is, I’ve spent part of my professional time figuring out how to feed some of the world’s poorest people. People sometimes ask if this is difficult, how I can reconcile designing food budgets on 5 cents a person a day and serving fancy cheese at a dinner party. I reply that my food philosophy can be summed up in one word: nourishment. Nourishment is the simplest bowl of porridge for a food-insecure person, nourishment is the dinner mom puts on the table every night, nourishment is splurging on that fancy ingredient for a holiday, and scraping together the scraps when the budget is tight. Nourishment is the love, the care, the thought we put into each dish we make. Nourishment is the food that feeds the soul as well as the stomach.

For a long time, I saw my work as completely seperate from my culinary exploits. I worked for the World Food Programme in Syria, designing a food for education program, a women’s empowerment program, doing emergency relief during the war in Lebanon and for Iraqi refugees. The flour we ordered came in metric tons measured according to extraction rates and our main concern about vegetable oil was that women could carry the tins. It was probably the most intellectually stimulating and rewarding job I’ve had, but the food part of it had little relation to the way I thought of my daily sustenance.

Slowly, though, I’ve come to realize how influential that experience is on how I cook in my own kitchen, and it’s not just using every last scrap of the roast chicken. There were the staff meals we shared everyday, a wealth of Syrian homecooking. Typing up surveys of our program's participants, I learned about the daily food production in rural areas; meeting with sheep farmers in the Badia I learned about feeding and raising livestock. On a larger scale, I also learned about procuring aid, the difficulty of tight budgets and international strictures and biased agriculture subsidies. The same agriculture policies that impact the food you buy and eat also impact the world of international aid. Many of the U.S. protectionist trade policies are highly detrimental to the work of aid organizations (by hampering local procurement thereby slowling relief efforts often by months). It is yet another reason I believe strongly in supporting local farmers and products, by supporting farmers in your own area you are making in impact in the larger global economy.


The holidays are coming, and we’ll be buying gifts and baking goodies, and I’ll be the first to say go ahead and celebrate to the fullest. But it’s also a time to think about those well off, which is why I couldn’t be more excited to support this years Menu for Hope. This annual event consists of food bloggers offering raffle prizes to raise money for the World Food Program. Last year, Menu for Hope raised $62,925 for WFP, this year the proceeds will benefit a WFP school lunch program in Lesotho, Africa. Take a look at some of the faces from Lesotho's program, and find out more about Menu for Hope.

Here’s how it works:
1. Head over to Chez Pim and scan the whole array of prizes on offer. Make sure to choose prizes in your geographic area (code UE for U.S. East Coast, UC for central U.S., UW for the west coast, UK, EU, etc.).
2. Go to Firstgiving to buy a $10 raffle ticket, specifiying any prizes that appeal to you in the “personal message” section. Buy as many tickets as you like!
3. The campaign runs from December 10-21. After that, check back with Chez Pim and check out if you’ve won.

America: Please Make More Pies.

Dear America,
I’m worried about you. I’m worried you’re loosing your culinary traditions. I went out to buy a pie pan Monday, I’ve got a couple nice ones but I wanted a deep dish pie pan to make that chock-full-of pecans-pie for Thanksgiving. First, I went to Crate and Barrel, and when I asked about pie pans I was directed to one terribly shallow, glass Pyrex pan for $6. Not only was there no deep dish pan, there were no other pie pans. One lousy pan, for the whole store. Don’t you think there would be at least one decorative ceramic pan, what with the holidays around the corner?

I moved on to Sur La Table with high hopes, and there again I was confronted with the same one lame glass pan. America, I’m getting worried. You are not making pies. You are not making enough pies. Oh, you are making pies, but I know your secret. You’re buying those pre-made crusts, aren’t you? The premade crusts with the disposable tin pans, don’t tell me it’s so. If you were making pies regularly, you’d know that homemade pie crust is so much better, and cheaper too. If you were making pies regularly, you’d want that nice solid pretty pie pan, the one you can use over and over again.


I did finally find a pie pan, and a deep dish one at that, at Williams-Sonoma. But even then, there were only two types of pie pans on offer, and I had to pay a boatload for it and it was made in France. She’s a beauty, and I love her dearly, the way her fluted edges craddle that gooey filling. But I’m worried about you America, you must embrace your pie heritage. When I lived outside the U.S. I wanted to make a pie, but the only options were a cake pan or a tart pan, and neither does a pie make. Ever since then I’ve been rather passionate about the pie pan. Appreciate the uniquely sloped sides that make pie such an American tradition. Please go buy a pie pan, a good solid one that has the promise of years of use to come, and then make yourself a pie.

Until I get around to telling you about that pecan pie, here's a delicious Apple-Cranberry Crumble Pie we love around the holidays. It's even better served with caramel ice cream.

Apple-Cranberry Crumble Pie
I always thought the idea of combining a pie and a crumble sounded excessive until I made this one Thanksgiving and discovered how delicious it is. The bursts of tart cranberries are perfect foil for the sweet-crunchy crumble.

1 pie crust, prepared, fitted into a 9" pie pan, and refrigerated
3 large (or 4 medium) Granny Smith apples
2 cups cranberries, fresh or thawed if frozen
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
1/4 cup flour
1 tbl lemon zest
1 tsp cinnamon
1/8 tsp nutmeg
pinch salt
for crumble:
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup oats (not quick-cooking)
1/3 cup flour
pinch salt
4 tbl butter, chilled and cut in small dice

1. Preheat oven to 375 F, arrange a rack in the lower part of the oven. Have your crust chilled in the refrigerator.
2. Place sugar, flour, lemon zest, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt in a bowl and toss to combine. Peel, core, and thinly slice the apples and add to the sugar mixture. Add the cranberries and toss to combine. Let mixture sit 10 minutes while you prepare the topping.
3. For the crumble topping, combine the brown sugar, oats, flour and salt in a bowl. Add the butter and rub the mixture with your fingers until it forms a coarse meal.
4. Pile the filling into the chilled crust. Scatter the crumble over top. Place the pan on a baking sheet to catch the drips and bake in the lower part of the oven for 55 minutes, or until golden and juices are bubbling. Let cool a few hours before serving.