Cracking the Code

The notion of a baking a cake in the microwave intrigues me, especially a small, well textured one with plenty of character.  When I'm particularly in need of a little personal indulgence, I imagine myself effortlessly whipping up such a treat. Yes, I picture myself savoring this single serving of sweet bliss―warm from the oven. No muss, no fuss.  

I've considered many recipes but tend to pass on most because even with glowing comments, I suspect they aren't worth the minimal effort required.  Fact is, baking is complicated. It is based on scientific principles which use heat to modify the structure of food, and the power of the microwave can really mess it up.    

Heavy duty lava cakes are very popular, but most are saturated with chocolate and butter.  Recently I tried a promising chocolate chip cookie-dough cake which suggested a tempting interplay of vanilla, and salt with gooey chocolate.  Despite the inclusion of one whole egg, standard in most of these recipes, it was still disappointingly dry and dull.  

Today, with carrots on my mind, I tried again.  I’m thinking there’s no reason why my luxurious treat can’t have some beneficial qualities, too.   Not only are carrots sweet and tasty, they can also replace the butter or eggs that supply critical moisture lost during the microwave baking process. Plus, their healthy contributions may offset any looming guilt.  

To pull it all together, I blend a splash of orange juice, a dash of fresh ginger, vanilla, and milk with cinnamon-laced whole wheat flour, and quickly fold in the grated carrots.  In no time the batter is ready for its personal baking cup.

Into the microwave it goes. As if watching time lapse photography, within seconds a burnished orange cake shoots up and mushrooms over the cup, threatening to overflow! 

But, it doesn't.  With steely nerves and sticky fingers I press the top every few seconds to test for firmness.  When the center is barely set I quickly remove it from its cup to stop the cooking process.  I'm not taking any chances!

 

For a final flurry, while the carrot cake is still hot, I spoon a dollop of marshmallow cream over the top and watch it melt as it oozes down the sides.  Comforting and "gooey". 

 

Dizzying pockets of white chocolate chunks add another element of surprise and decadence. So much for quick treats―it disappears almost as fast as it bakes―with no regrets. 

 

Two-Minute Carrot Cake in a Cup

½ medium carrot grated, about 3 tbsp.

½ tsp grated fresh ginger

3 Tbsp whole wheat flour

2 Tbsp brown sugar

¼ tsp baking powder

¼ tsp baking soda

pinch salt

pinch cinnamon

2 Tbsp orange juice

2 Tbsp milk

1 tsp canola or olive oil

½ tsp vanilla

2 Tbsp white chocolate chips or golden raisins, plumped

Optional:  marshmallow cream or ice cream

1. Spray with oil or line a microwaveable mug or cup with plastic wrap.
2.  In a small bowl, combine the flour through the cinnamon.  Separately combine the juice through the vanilla and add it to the dry ingredients.  Stir in the carrots and ginger, and add the chocolate chips.
3. Spoon into mug or cup.
4. Set microwave for 2 minutes.  At one minute, check the top for doneness. It is baked when the center is no longer gooey but still sticky on top. Return and check every 20-30 seconds until done.  Don’t over bake; it will continue cooking once removed.   
5. Serve in mug or remove with plastic wrap and turn out onto plate.  If desired drape with marshmallow cream or serve with vanilla ice cream.  Yield:  1 glorious serving.

Wild about Arugula

This summer’s early cool temperatures have morphed my small orderly garden into an unstoppable sea of arugula.  I’m not complaining― the kale, chard, red leaf, and dainty mesclun blends will all survive.  The fact is, this wacky bumper crop has further inflamed my passion for the arresting arugula.

Now I can be even more selective in scrutinizing every seductive, leggy candidate competing for my next plate.  However, I’ve noticed my neighbors’ eyes are beginning to roll when plied with more generous overtures of arugula. 

It seems I’m not the only one that’s wild about arugula, though.  I have resorted to cruising the web in search of arugula tips and ideas― and there are plenty of them.  My wanderings have uncovered an amazing assortment of arugula facts and tributes. 

For example, arugula is an herbaceous annual plant with tender green leaves that are smooth, sharply indented, and irregularly shaped, like those of dandelion.  Its piquant flavor is similar to water cress;  as a member of the cabbage family, it is related to watercress, mustard and radishes. Also called rocket, it is particularly popular in the south of France, Italy, and in Egypt.

It's interesting to note that in Roman time’s arugula was grown for both its leaves and the seed. The seed, also used for flavoring oils, has been used as an aphrodisiac since first century, AD. (Cambridge World History of Food).   A typical Roman meal might include a salad of greens such as arugula, romaine, chicory, mallow and lavender, all properly finished with a 'cheese sauce for lettuce'. 

As far as I’m concerned, arugula doesn’t need much company; just a few good companions capable of balancing its assertive nature. With this summer's gold mine, I've resorted to making jars of Arugula Pesto, an amazing condiment dabbed on grilled fish or spread on a BLT sandwich.  I use my basic pesto recipe and substitute traditional basil with several cups of tender baby arugula, trimmed of any bitter stems. 

One of my current dishes features marinated cherry tomato salad combined with hot drained penne pasta, gently tossed with arugula, and topped with goat cheese or feta.  Another quick summer-in-a-bowl meal is based on pantry and fridge items: white beans, roma tomatoes, maybe some fresh cucumber, red onion or sweet pepper, kalamata olives, rosemary and arugula from the garden, all lightly finished with garlicky sherry vinaigrette.

When it comes to recognition and tributes to arugula, there’s no shortage of them on the web―and so, it seems entirely appropriate to present my personal favorites, a curious selection, each worthy of an esteemed Arugula Award.

 

Wild About Arugula Award:  Classiest Cartoon

New Yorker Cartoon by Edward Koren

Edward Koren has long been associated with The New Yorker magazine where he has published well over 1000 cartoons as well as many covers and illustrations. He has also contributed to many other publications, including The New York Times, Newsweek, Time, GQ, Esquire, Sports Illustrated, Vogue, Fortune, Vanity Fair, The Nation and The Boston Globe.

 

Wild about Arugula Award:  Sexiest Photo and Recipe

For full appreciation, visit Use Real Butter

Jen's photos and recipe of Arugula Salad with Figs and Prosciutto are to die for, but she emphatically decries any copying of her work, which she refers to 'assholery'.  Hope I'm not breaking any laws with my faint praise.   

 

Wild about Arugula Award:  Irreverent Food and Culture, Nonfiction

United States of Arugula by David Kamp

United States of Arugula, by David Kamp

David Kamp has carved out a dual career in "proper" journalism and humor writing: like Calvin Trillin's, only far less respected and lucrative. His work appears in Vanity Fair, GQ, and the New York Times, among other publications.

 

Wild about Arugula Award:  Awkward Political Moments

Uh Oh... Whole Foods and Arugula, both missing in Iowa

Obama’s “Arugula Moment,” from 2008 presidential campaign. 

Stand and Deliver

I can't seem to get away from the television lately, I'm addicted to NBC’s expanded coverage of the London 2012 Summer Olympics.  In fact, all of this swimming, diving, gymnastics, track, beach volleyball, rowing, and track competition makes me hungry―and my mind tends to drift to potential snacks―especially United Kingdom vintage treats.  A spot of tea and a crisp cookie for dipping is a divine idea―especially one of those classic digestive biscuits.  With the television in viewing distance, I'm tempted to take a crack at whipping up my own homemade batch.    

Two familiar options, Carr and McVities Digestives are notable stand outs with wholemeal flavor, but I’m leaning toward a cookie with a nutty oat influence.  Thanks to fellow blogger over at Obsessive Gardener,  Sylvana painstakingly took McVities listed ingredients apart and came up with her own copy-cat version.  Except for a few minor tweaks, the results are an addictive, tasty tea treat.   

I begin with my personal muesli blend of oats and wheat and use the food processor to break it down into a textured flour, ready for cutting in butter and remaining ingredients.  A quick chill in the fridge brings the dough together for easy rolling.   The results:  a well-balanced blend of sweet and salty crunch, a worthy accompaniment to tea, an aged cheese, ripe fruit, or even ice cream.   This classic buttery biscuit stands and delivers. 

 

Digestive Tea Biscuits

Reminiscent of McVitie’s Biscuits from Scotland.  Inspired by Obsessive Gardener blog.

1/3 cup oat bran - or Muesli without fruit

¾ cup whole wheat flour

¼ cup all purpose flour

½ tsp baking powder

½ tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp salt

4 tbsp brown sugar, packed well

4 tbsp chilled butter, cut up

½ tsp vanilla

3 tbsp milk, approx.

In a food processor, break down the oats, add the flours and dry ingredients through the salt and combine well.  Add brown sugar and combine. 

Cut in the butter and process until crumbly and uniform.  Add the vanilla and enough milk to form a soft firm dough.  Chill the dough 20 minutes or longer.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Line a cookie sheet with parchment or spray it with oil.

On a lightly floured board, roll the dough out evenly, to 1/8” thickness.  Cut into approx 2 ½” rounds and place on cookie sheet about 1” apart, they will expand slightly.  Prick evenly with a fork.

Bake about 15 minutes turning baking sheet about half way through – until the cookies are firm to touch and edges begin to brown slightly.  Watch carefully, they will brown quickly.   

Yield:  approximately 16 cookies.  

Serve with tea, as part of a cheese board, or as an accompaniment to other desserts. 

Breakfast Anyone?

True Confession

For a person who has resisted breakfast for most of her life, the idea of accepting food much before 10AM was a cruel concept.  Coffee?  Well, yes, of course, but that was about it.  As if I had changed my mind, my mother would regularly try and ply me with waffles, bacon, eggs... perhaps a little orange juice? No, thank you. 

  

Why was I so punchy and light headed by 3PM?  Not only had I skipped breakfast, but often lunch slid right passed me, too. When my schedule changed so drastically that I had no time to sit down and eat a proper meal, I had to take a look at my strange ways. Fueled by quick bites and snacks, come dinnertime I was literally starving. 

I love food… how could I possibly be too busy to eat? 

I forced myself to get something down before leaving home in the morning.  I started carrying a few convenient, nutritious bites―even a hastily made sandwich, which I always appreciated later in the day.  I had more energy, my mind was clearer, I felt better:  no more headaches, and I didn’t experience that 3PM slump.  Huh, go figure.

Hard to believe, but I am now a confirmed breakfast convert.  Much of this shift in eating habits can be attributed to my elevated interest in whole grains.  Previously, a civilized breakfast would occur around 11AM with 2 soft boiled eggs and a couple of slices of enriched wheat toast, gently buttered. From there, life started looking up and I was primed for just about anything, especially a stylish late lunch.    

Now, my mornings begin early with a bowl of grains, often an uncooked muesli of sorts with fruit and nuts, or a combination heated into a porridge and topped with a dollop of yogurt―and I am set.  My body is satisfied, it gets what it needs to work efficiently―no weird blood sugar spikes or wild snacking in the course of the day.  I still take finger food for mindful nibbling, something like bite-sized portions of freshly baked fruit bars layered with whole grains. 

Lately I’ve been prepping a week’s worth of breakfast cereal ahead and stashing it covered in the fridge.  In the morning, I’ll heat up a bowl full in the microwave for a minute or two  and top it with whatever strikes my fancy.  Here’s what’s for breakfast these days:  

Hot Muesli with Fresh Blueberries and Yogurt

This whole grain porridge promises a rousing eating experience.  Mild millet acts as a foil and creamy binder between moist, chewy wheat berries―which practically explode in the mouth―and nutty, satisfying oats.   The combination of cinnamon, dates, and raisins all add up to the right hint of sweetness, and the sunflower seeds provide that tiny element of crunch. Pressure cooker directions also follow.

Hot Muesli 

6 cups water

½ tsp salt

1 tsp cinnamon

1/3 cup triticale wheat berries

1/3 cup millet

1 cup rolled oats

½ cup whole dates, pitted and cut up

½ cup golden raisins

2 tbsp sunflower seeds

2 tbsp flax seed

In a medium pot, bring the water and salt to a boil.  Add the triticale and cinnamon, reduce the heat and simmer for 10 minutes, partially covered. Add the millet and simmer an additional 25 minutes.   Stir in the oats and continue to simmer for an additional 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add , the dates and raisins and cook 1-2 minutes longer.  Remove from heat, stir in the sunflower seeds and flax.   Serves 6-8.

Notes:  For later use, allow the muesli to cool before refrigerating.  As the cereal sits, grains may absorb available moisture and swell.  I have found that stirring in an additional ½ to 1 cup or so boiling water will keep the cereal malleable for later portioning, and not a stiff mass. 

For the pressure cooker: 

Combine the water, millet, and triticale and cook under pressure 20 minutes.  Use natural pressure release, and let stand for approximately 10 minutes.  Remove lid, add the salt, cinnamon, and oats and  simmer an additional 10 minutes stirring occasionally, with lid on, but not locked.  Stir in the dates and raisins and cook an additional 1-2 minutes.  Remove from heat and add the sunflower seeds and flax. 

Garbanzos Galore

Whatever your preference, chickpeas, garbanzo beans, ceci beans, chanas, Indian peas, or bengal grams... they have a long history in world cuisines with credits dating back over 7,500 years as one of the earliest cultivated vegetables. In early antiquity, chickpeas were associated with Venus and revered for medicinal attributes linked to increased sperm and milk production.  The Roman gourmet Apicius offered several recipes for chickpeas.  Culpeper found "chick-pease or cicers" less "windy" and more nourishing than peas.  In 1793 a German writer noted that ground roast chickpeas were considered a suitable coffee substitute.

It’s hard to compete with garbanzos when it comes to nutrition, they are a good source of zinc, folate, and protein.  They are very high in dietary fiber and a good source of carbohydrates for those with insulin sensitivity or diabetes. Chickpeas are low in fat, mostly polyunsaturated, and are also an excellent source of the trace mineral manganese, which is an essential cofactor in energy production and in antioxidant defense.  Garbanzos provide dietary calcium with some claims of content at about the same level as yogurt and close to milk.

 I enjoy their nuttiness, their slight crunch, and the extra dimension they provide, but I’m a little late to the game when it comes to appreciating the full capabilities of these mighty legumes.  In my pantry there’s always a can on the ready for when I’m craving hummus, or need a quick addition to a salad, soup, or stew.  Admittedly, since I have always relied on the convenience of canned varieties it never occurred to me that I could actually cook my own from the dried state. It seemed like a lot of work for one can’s worth. 

But, thanks to the arrival of my new pressure cooker the world looks different these days, and life has morphed into a garbanzo bean bonanza.  I’ve discovered that given a night of pre-soaking, it only takes about 10 minutes before I am totally surrounded by a full pot of these lovelies.  Instead of cans, my freezer is now stocked with quart bags filled with cooked ceci beans. 

Released from this unnecessary stinginess, I plan to take full advantage of my new store of frozen garbanzos. Beyond the obvious, there will be more tajines, curries, and stews, probably more exotic veggie burgers, I’ll even spice some up for snacking; and maybe I’ll find a good falafel recipe that uses cooked chickpeas instead of its flour. 

Here’s an idea expanded from Spicy Garbanzo Burritos, by Lynne Rossetto Kasper at Splendid Table.  Tacos and burritos fixings are a standard in my kitchen, and this offers a ton of options for quick meals. The flavors are reminiscent of the Mediterranean, yet melded with Latin touches a dynamic partnership is formed.  I have included chicken here (because I had one cooked breast on hand), but it is optional; the satisfying garbanzo beans can easily stand alone.      

Spicy Garbanzo Bean Burritos with Yogurt Sauce
Inspired by a recipe from Lynne Rossetto Kasper’s Splendid Table early newsletter.

1  tbsp olive oil
½  red onion, sliced
1 poblano or other green or red pepper, seed and slice

1 large clove garlic, mince
1 tsp ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
½  tsp. oregano

1 tsp smoked paprika
2 cups garbanzo beans (chickpeas), drain
Salt and pepper to taste

½ cup stock or water, as needed

4 large wheat tortillas, warmed

1 cooked chicken breast, shredded (optional)

1 cup feta cheese, cubed or crumbled

Arugula or other greens, approx. 16 leaves or so

fresh oregano for garnish

Yogurt Sauce
1 ½ cups plain yogurt

2 green onions, chopped
1 jalapeno pepper, seed, chop

2 tbsp cilantro,  chop

1 small clove garlic, mince
Salt and pepper to taste

Heat a large sauté pan over medium heat and add the oil. Add the onion and toss to soften, then add the pepper and cook 2-3 minutes.  Add the garlic, the cumin, red pepper flakes, oregano, paprika and sauté to blend flavors.   Add the garbanzo beans and cook for 5 minutes, stirring and adding liquid to moisten if it becomes dry; season with salt and pepper.
For sauce: combine ingredients and set aside. 
To assemble:  Warm tortillas and spread each with sauce and top with a few leaves of arugula.  Add a dollop more of sauce and top with chicken if using.  Cover with garbanzo mixture and top with feta.  Sprinkle with fresh oregano. Roll up the tortillas and serve. Pass the hot sauce.  Serves 4

The Pressure is On

I’ve noticed my cooking routine has changed with my increased use of whole grains, legumes, and beans.  I’m planning more meals ahead and precooking those time-consuming staples for convenience later in the week.  I’m cooking more in stages, always looking for ways to streamline so that when it’s mealtime  I can enjoy cooking as much as possible.  

For months I have been eying pressure cookers―tempted, but unable to get passed that lingering anxiety of hot exploding objects.  It seems no matter where I turn lately, someone is talking about how they love their PC.  On the Food Network I watched Trisha Yearwood and a girlfriend effortlessly whip up a batch of mashed potatoes in what resembled the Fagor PC I have been considering.  I visualized myself, lid in hand, standing over my mashed potato filled pressure cooker, smiling confidently, too.  In that moment, my fear was replaced with desire―and there was no turning back: I was all in. 

Fagor 8-Qt Pressure Cooker

This week my Fagor Pressure Cooker arrived and I have kept my mitts on and faced the demons. There have been moments when pressure was building (or releasing) and I wondered if I would be rocketed into the third dimension, but it didn’t happen.  Yes, it’s all a learning process, and I’m gaining confidence.  The trickiest part has been to determine the best heat setting on my electric range that will mesh with my PC and maintain the proper pressure level.    

After a preliminary run through to test my new equipment, I launched my first official project:  chicken stock.   I added my usual onion, celery, and herbs to assorted chicken parts and bones defrosted from the freezer, and covered it all with water.  Since directions suggest moving the PC between two electric burners to maintain pressure, one on high, the other on a low setting, I juggled between burners and held my breath for 20 minutes.   Once the pressure subsided I opened the lid and peered in:  there was still plenty of water and nothing had burned.  I had two quarts of chicken stock!    

I have since tested both lentils and buckwheat, with varying degrees of success.  Erring on the side of caution, the le puy lentils needed a bit more than the meager 4 minutes cooking time (how bad is that?!).  But, I would rather have them al dente than mush, anyway.  The kasha took longer.  The directions suggested letting it cool naturally in the pot, which cooked it too long and it stuck to the bottom surface.  Fortunately, it was not burned and came off easily. 

This morning’s breakfast:   steaming hot kasha with a snappy banana-yogurt sauce.  All smiles here. 

The Marriage of Fufu and Ndolé

Ndolé and Fufu

I finally had a chance to test a recipe for ndolé, the national dish of Cameroon which features bitterleaf (or other hearty greens such as chard, kale, or spinach), groundnuts or peanuts, shrimp and/or dried or smoked fish, and spices such as ginger, garlic and peppers. Ghana, Nigeria, and other West African countries have their own versions which may include melon seeds and meat such as goat. 

Here’s where the party begins:  fufu, the standard ndolé starch accompaniment, is made with plantains, yams, cassava, or other roots or starches that are pounded in a large mortar and pestle affair until it forms a smooth ball of dough.  The traditional method requires two people to get the job done: one to add, combine, and manually turn ingredients in a super-sized wooden bowl while the other pounds with a long wooden pestle to smash and breakdown the additions.  After considerable practice the two develop a rhythm and harmoniously succeed in creating a silken dough, with no fingers broken in the process.  Once the ndolé is served, individual portions of the fufu are pulled off, and pieces are then dipped with the fingers into bowls of steaming soup or stew to assist in scooping up juicy morsels. 

In all fairness, I admit, I have never been a fan of peanut butter type sauces; Asian noodles with the peanut-butter-spice combinations leave me cold.  The ndolé recipe I use as my beginning point comes from John Gerber's Just Food Now a great website of well-researched food from not only Africa, but  from all over Europe and points beyond.  With full confidence in my source, I was game.  Since this recipe and others I considered tend to use metric weights and measures, I took a few conversion liberties, as well.  But, what the heck, it’s a stew.  I doubt if everyone in Africa measures all their ingredients either. 

Now that I have a few preliminary caveats out of the way, I confess, I love this dish ― in all its shrimpy peanut buttery glory.  The bitterleaf was a bit of a stretch, so I blanched a nice bunch of kale and cut it into bite sized pieces.  I channeled my Caribbean cooking days and asked what they would do?  Why, add a little thyme, of course!  I’m glad I added the second poblano pepper along with a good hit of cayenne because they stand up to the dose of ginger and garlic. In fact, the stew would not be same without kale or other assertive greens; to make up for the missing ‘bitter’ element, a splash of lime on the finish supplied a prerequisite brightness.   Who knows, it may not be totally authentic, but it is completely outrageous―and I will be making it again― soon.  

Right, I also took a few liberties with the fufu.  After reviewing a flight of how-to-cook and eat fufu videos on YouTube, there was no way I was going to swallow my fufu without tasting it.  I’ve included a Dutchvlog clip worth viewing on an authentic Ghanaian approach to making FuFu with plantain and cassava, which further supports my position on making fufu: it needs to be tasty.  

Consequently, I opted for what my grocer calls white yams, something that looks suspiciously like a blonde sweet potato (unlike the rough skinned African variety). I used my food processor to begin the fufu event and to add the butter, salt and pepper; then the yams were returned to the straight sided cooking pot where I continued to pound them unmercifully with a wooden spoon until they relented and formed a springy cohesive ball.

In sum, I’m not sure which is better: the ndolé or the fufu. This is a world class marriage destined for eternal bliss: a complex utterly delicious stew lapped up with buttery tinged slightly sweet mashed potatoes with some serious body.  Finger lickin’ good!

Ndole (Bitterleaf Soup)

Inspired by:  Just Food Now, “African Spirit: The food of Cameroon. Just Food Now”.  

500 ml dried bitterleaf (or 1 large bunch kale, collards, turnip greens, or spinach)

1 lb cooked shrimps (size of your choice, I used small)

2 green onions chop

3 clove garlic, divided

¼ tsp cayenne (or more)

3 Tbsp olive oil, divided

1 large onion, chop

1 green pepper; or 2 poblanos, if available, seed and chop

2 tbsp fresh ginger, grated

1 tsp fresh thyme

3 tomatoes, peel and chop (or 16 oz. diced canned tomatoes, drain and save liquid

¾ cup natural peanut butter, (extra-crunchy works well), approximate

2 cups water, approximate

salt and pepper to taste

juice of 1 lime, or to taste

If using dried bitterleaf, soak it overnight; drain in the morning and press out the excess water.

If using kale, collards, or turnip greens, wash the greens, remove spines, chop them, and  simmer simmer in a pot of boiling water 3-5 minutes, until the greens begin to become tender. If using spinach, wash and chop.

Marinate the shrimp:  combine the green onions, 1 minced clove garlic, and 1 Tbsp. olive oil into a thin paste and toss with the cooked shrimp.  Chill until needed.  

Heat 1 tbsp of oil in a large pot, add the onion, green pepper, 2 cloves minced garlic,  ginger, thyme;  sauté for a few minutes until the onions are translucent.  Add the chopped tomatoes, reduce heat and simmer for about 5 minutes to combine flavors.  Add the reserved tomato juice and enough water to thin as needed, and simmer another 5-10 minutes. 

Add the peanut butter, the greens and additional liquid to thin if too thick.  Cover the pot and continue simmering until greens are tender, another 10 – 15 minutes.  If dry, add additional water, a little at a time, as needed. 

Just before serving, briefly sauté the shrimp, add to the soup, and heat well. Add a dash of lime juice to brighten flavors and correct seasoning. Serve with fufu.  Serves 4.

Fufu

Inspired by:  Jeanne Egbosiuba Ukwendu, editor of the African Culture Site at Bella Online

4 medium white yams, peel and cut into chunks

2 Tbsp butter

½ tsp salt, white pepper

In a heavy pot, simmer the yams in salted boiling water until they begin to soften when pierced with a knife.  Allow to drain well.   

Place the yams in a food processor or beat with a mixer, adding knobs of butter, salt and pepper until there are no lumps.   

Return the mixture to the pot and continue to beat with a wood spoon, mashing against side of pot until a silky cohesive dough forms.  

Portion into individual rounds and serve each surrounded by soup or stew; use the fufu as bread for dipping with fingers. Serves 4.