By Graham Piche
Spice can be more contentious than a federal election. Many despise it, hissing when even the slightest bit of capsaicin hits their tongue, while others find food utterly bland without a good array of it. My mum falls into the first group, while my dad and I fall into the latter. This recipe, or rather this iteration of it, was born from a compromise.
One day in late 2021, my dad decided to take a look at the Ottawa Citizen’s food section. Winter was approaching, and he was looking for cozy, warm dishes to try out. He read one over: a Somali dish named Digaag Quimbe, and decided to try it out. It was nothing out of the ordinary. Dad has always tried new recipes, branching out from the recipe books he’s owned for as long as I can remember.
As he cooked, he made one simple, yet pivotal decision. The recipe called for jalapenos. Thinking of mum, whose spice tolerance was minimal despite her love of Indian food, he ditched the peppers and decided to stick with only the xawaash spice mix to heat things up. After a couple hours, the stew was done. The aromas of cooked chicken and spices rose up to my room, one that would become familiar as the years passed.
We each served ourselves and took our seats. It was more or less like any other dinner until we all took a bite. Each of us remarked on just how good it was. It was a balanced, hearty, and most importantly delicious meal. By the time I finished my first serving, I knew it was going to be a favourite for years to come.
Indeed, my prediction held strong. The xawaash gets its own container in the cupboard, and my dad still makes the dish every month or so. Despite how many times I’ve had it, it never fails to make a bad day okay, and a good one great.
Spice can be more contentious than a federal election. Many despise it, hissing when even the slightest bit of capsaicin hits their tongue, while others find food utterly bland without a good array of it. My mum falls into the first group, while my dad and I fall into the latter. This recipe, or rather this iteration of it, was born from a compromise.
One day in late 2021, my dad decided to take a look at the Ottawa Citizen’s food section. Winter was approaching, and he was looking for cozy, warm dishes to try out. He read one over: a Somali dish named Digaag Quimbe, and decided to try it out. It was nothing out of the ordinary. Dad has always tried new recipes, branching out from the recipe books he’s owned for as long as I can remember.
As he cooked, he made one simple, yet pivotal decision. The recipe called for jalapenos. Thinking of mum, whose spice tolerance was minimal despite her love of Indian food, he ditched the peppers and decided to stick with only the xawaash spice mix to heat things up. After a couple hours, the stew was done. The aromas of cooked chicken and spices rose up to my room, one that would become familiar as the years passed.
We each served ourselves and took our seats. It was more or less like any other dinner until we all took a bite. Each of us remarked on just how good it was. It was a balanced, hearty, and most importantly delicious meal. By the time I finished my first serving, I knew it was going to be a favourite for years to come.
Indeed, my prediction held strong. The xawaash gets its own container in the cupboard, and my dad still makes the dish every month or so. Despite how many times I’ve had it, it never fails to make a bad day okay, and a good one great.
Digaag Quimbe
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Xawaash Spice Mix
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