Tiki Food Recipes - Tiki Drinks and Food

PG Professor G Member the Tiki Wastelands Joined: Sep 03, 2011 Posts: 346	PG Professor G Posted posted on Tue, Dec 6, 2011 5:23 PM My researches show the thread to be about a year old. It's a young, innocent thread and the essay I'm about to inflict upon it ("Professor G in . . . The Rumaki Files) is happening through no fault of its own. This may seem a bit long-winded for an appetizer that hasn’t been chic since the early sixties, but, while I’ve seen a few discussions and fewer recipes (It ain’t rumaki if you use scallops or mushrooms, it’s just bacon-wrapped scallops or mushrooms.) I’ve not seen rumaki handled with the kind of maniacal obsession I like to see in my fellow T. Centralites. I don’t think you can discuss Tiki Cuisine without addressing rumaki. Like many Tiki creations, both Trader Vic (the Spring Roll Theory) and Don the Beachcomber (the Polynesian Songbird Theory) are credited with (or implicated in) its creation. I personally buy the story that Don Beach came up with the dish to squeeze some kind of profit out of the chicken livers he had to buy because that’s really how chefs and restaurant owners think and also because I trust BeachBum Berry a lot more than I trust Wikipedia. I wouldn’t be surprised to find some of the British “devil-on-horseback” DNA in rumaki, either, but I can’t prove it . . .yet. You don’t see rumaki too often, although it does make a mini-comeback every now and again, and it’s thought of, by those who’ve heard of it, as a bit of a novelty. During its heyday, however, it was an insanely popular appetizer. Mid-century Americans were friends of the liver in a way we currently are not. For example, behold this buffet centerpiece from a Betty Crocker cookbook: if it looks to you like a hunk of liver sausage shaped like a pineapple and decorated with chaud-froid, olive slices, and a real pineapple top, your vision checks out. I personally wonder what happened to the rest of the pineapple, but it’s not really any of my business. The point is, festive people in the fifties dug the organ meats. At that time, frugal cooks bought whole chickens and had to figure out how to use whole chickens; also, if they’d ever heard the word cholesterol, they thought it was the name of a Soviet general. Most people now don’t like liver, and do fear cholesterol (but not Soviet generals). Regardless, rumaki is good and three or four, which is plenty, won’t hurt you. Like the best known Tiki drinks, rumaki strikes all over the palate: it is bitter, sweet, salty, spicy, rich and crunchy all in one mouthful. I’m going to serve it with two sauces: soy and a sri racha aioli. This first effort is based on the recipe in Taboo Table, which is pretty standard and quite likely to be in the libraries of my intended audience (you). I’ve replaced the sherry with mirin and the pepper sauce with a sri racha; in other words, I’ve replaced the sweet wine with sweet wine and the hot sauce with hot sauce. In the culinary industry, that’s what we call originality. My selections wouldn’t have been readily available, mid-century, but I prefer them in the dish. I’ve also deleted the ground ginger option because I don’t want you to use it. Professor’s Rumaki #1 12 large chicken livers, halved 4 oz can water chestnuts, drained and halved 12 slices bacon, halved crosswise (not maple) 1 cup soy sauce 1/2 cup mirin 1 tsp sri racha 1 crushed garlic clove 1 Tbsp fresh ginger, peeled and chopped Fold each liver piece around a water chestnut piece; wrap them up in a half-slice of bacon (really . . . no maple) and secure each thing with a toothpick. Mix the remaining ingredients. Marinate the rumaki in the mixture for at least three hours and as long as overnight. Broil the rumaki until the bacon is crisp (5-6 minutes); flip the rumaki about halfway through, and spin your pan, to ensure even cooking. Following this recipe, the photo above is what I got. It all worked. The times, temperature and measurements were all sound. Next time, I’ll quick freeze the livers individually to facilitate handling. I will grill them, because the industrial vent hoods I’m used to at work are not present in my home kitchen. I will marinate them overnight rather than three hours. Rumaki is not for the timid. It is rich and full flavored and three is about all you need in a portion. It will stand up to any beverage or sauce you pair it with which makes it a useful party/luau starter. In spite of it being a little difficult to assemble, I recommend it.

My researches show the thread to be about a year old. It's a young, innocent thread and the essay I'm about to inflict upon it ("Professor G in . . . The Rumaki Files) is happening through no fault of its own.

This may seem a bit long-winded for an appetizer that hasn’t been chic since the early sixties, but, while I’ve seen a few discussions and fewer recipes (It ain’t rumaki if you use scallops or mushrooms, it’s just bacon-wrapped scallops or mushrooms.) I’ve not seen rumaki handled with the kind of maniacal obsession I like to see in my fellow T. Centralites.

I don’t think you can discuss Tiki Cuisine without addressing rumaki. Like many Tiki creations, both Trader Vic (the Spring Roll Theory) and Don the Beachcomber (the Polynesian Songbird Theory) are credited with (or implicated in) its creation. I personally buy the story that Don Beach came up with the dish to squeeze some kind of profit out of the chicken livers he had to buy because that’s really how chefs and restaurant owners think and also because I trust BeachBum Berry a lot more than I trust Wikipedia. I wouldn’t be surprised to find some of the British “devil-on-horseback” DNA in rumaki, either, but I can’t prove it . . .yet.

You don’t see rumaki too often, although it does make a mini-comeback every now and again, and it’s thought of, by those who’ve heard of it, as a bit of a novelty. During its heyday, however, it was an insanely popular appetizer. Mid-century Americans were friends of the liver in a way we currently are not. For example, behold this buffet centerpiece from a Betty Crocker cookbook: if it looks to you like a hunk of liver sausage shaped like a pineapple and decorated with chaud-froid, olive slices, and a real pineapple top, your vision checks out.

I personally wonder what happened to the rest of the pineapple, but it’s not really any of my business. The point is, festive people in the fifties dug the organ meats. At that time, frugal cooks bought whole chickens and had to figure out how to use whole chickens; also, if they’d ever heard the word cholesterol, they thought it was the name of a Soviet general. Most people now don’t like liver, and do fear cholesterol (but not Soviet generals). Regardless, rumaki is good and three or four, which is plenty, won’t hurt you.

Like the best known Tiki drinks, rumaki strikes all over the palate: it is bitter, sweet, salty, spicy, rich and crunchy all in one mouthful. I’m going to serve it with two sauces: soy and a sri racha aioli.

This first effort is based on the recipe in Taboo Table, which is pretty standard and quite likely to be in the libraries of my intended audience (you). I’ve replaced the sherry with mirin and the pepper sauce with a sri racha; in other words, I’ve replaced the sweet wine with sweet wine and the hot sauce with hot sauce. In the culinary industry, that’s what we call originality. My selections wouldn’t have been readily available, mid-century, but I prefer them in the dish. I’ve also deleted the ground ginger option because I don’t want you to use it.

Professor’s Rumaki #1
12 large chicken livers, halved
4 oz can water chestnuts, drained and halved
12 slices bacon, halved crosswise (not maple)
1 cup soy sauce
1/2 cup mirin
1 tsp sri racha
1 crushed garlic clove
1 Tbsp fresh ginger, peeled and chopped

Fold each liver piece around a water chestnut piece; wrap them up in a half-slice of bacon (really . . . no maple) and secure each thing with a toothpick.

Mix the remaining ingredients.

Marinate the rumaki in the mixture for at least three hours and as long as overnight.

Broil the rumaki until the bacon is crisp (5-6 minutes); flip the rumaki about halfway through, and spin your pan, to ensure even cooking.

Following this recipe, the photo above is what I got.

It all worked. The times, temperature and measurements were all sound. Next time, I’ll quick freeze the livers individually to facilitate handling. I will grill them, because the industrial vent hoods I’m used to at work are not present in my home kitchen. I will marinate them overnight rather than three hours.
Rumaki is not for the timid. It is rich and full flavored and three is about all you need in a portion. It will stand up to any beverage or sauce you pair it with which makes it a useful party/luau starter. In spite of it being a little difficult to assemble, I recommend it.

Post #616475 by Professor G on Tue, Dec 6, 2011 5:23 PM