Out of Africa

CAMBRIDGE -- Marcus Samuelsson has one of the most winning smiles in the culinary world. As he rushes around Rialto's kitchen one afternoon recently, he flashes that smile often as he sautees shrimp piri piri over dancing flames. The brightly colored shellfish bounce in the pan.

Then he offers a shrimp, which has been cooked whole and is flecked with a dark red spice mixture. "Chefs, we like the heads on," says Samuelsson, co-owner and executive chef of Aquavit, AQ Cafe at Scandinavia House, and Riingo in New York. But it's also a Scandinavian preference, he says. That was the way he ate them growing up in the cold-water port of Goteborg, Sweden.

Samuelsson tops a dish of mango rice with the shrimp, sprinkles it with salt, and finishes the presentation with generous squeezes of lime juice. It's important, he says, "to not be afraid of having the food be rustic."

Known for his elegant Scandinavian food, Samuelsson has been exploring other horizons with "The Soul of a New Cuisine: A Discovery of the Foods and Flavors of Africa." To write this book, Samuelsson, 36, had to straddle two worlds. At age three, the Ethopian-born chef and his sister were adopted from an orphanage by a Swedish couple. His Swedish grandmother inspired him to cook, and his classical training was in France. He has been created Swedish dishes for Americans at Aquavit for 12 years.

Although he had Ethiopian friends at home, moving to New York in his early 20s spurred him to investigate his native culture. "In New York, I found the Ethiopian community," Samuelsson says. "I went to restaurants, I went to weddings." And he began to relate to being African in a way he never had before. His interest led to visits to Africa and then an article for Gourmet magazine on discovering the food of his native land.

"I feel like Africa has become this world of extremes," he says, pointing to the massive problems with AIDS, the situation in Darfur, and the celebrities who go there. But there is little focus on real people. This book, he says, offers a window into the lives of ordinary families, and into the continent's array of foods and cooking styles -- from Moroccan couscous to Ethiopian goat stew and its spongy bread, injera, to South Africa's Malaysian-influenced dishes.

There are few comprehensive books on African cooking, which Samuelsson discovered as he contemplated writing another magazine article on the foods of other African nations. When he browsed through the cookbook section of a big New York bookstore, there were scores of books on the Italian and French tables, he says, and plenty on other cuisines. But few on African food. So he set out to "open the door to a new vocabulary" for cooks here.

"We eat African without knowing it," says the chef. Barbecue comes from Africa, foie gras production was first developed and chickpeas first cultivated in Egypt, coffee was first grown to be made into a beverage in Ethiopia. Many of the Asian sambals and chutneys are part of South Africa's table. The continent boasts couscous, kebabs, and a host of aromatic spices. Samuelsson set out to link an American audience to the cuisines of a wide swath of the continent.

Samuelsson roamed all over Africa. He went to Dakar, Senegal, to the family home of his dishwasher at Aquavit, where 26 people -- several generations -- eat together. The vibrancy of the African markets seduced him. He tells of a woman selling fish who dealt money from layers and layers of skirts, describing her as a "mini-NASDAQ." In a continent where only women cook, they were mystified that a man from America was interested.

But once they understood, "people wanted to give us their culture," he says. A South African cab driver insisted on taking the New York chef and his party to his own home for dinner. The recipes that are in the book, though authentic, have been simplified for home cooks, and don't have the rough edges you might find in an African restaurant here (see related story on this page). And though the lists of spices can be lengthy, the dishes themselves aren't difficult. There's an emphasis on health, with plenty of vegetables, small amounts of meat, and bold spices used instead of fats. Samuelsson includes Jamaican jerk chicken, Puerto Rican mofongo, and even Southern barbecued pork ribs, since those Caribbean and American dishes are grounded in Africa.

To give his food the widest appeal, he isn't adamant about tradition. An Ethiopian stew of hanger steak, cardamom, cloves, cumin, chilies, and tomatoes, typically served with injera, might go with noodles or potatoes, he writes. Coconut-milk and green curry, both considered Asian ingredients, are in a trout recipe inspired by a Kenyan dish. We tend to associate starchy foods such as plantains and cassava with Africa, yet Samuelsson also gives vegetable recipes utilizing all sorts of greens, pumpkin, and eggplants. And against the stereotype of subsistence diets, there are recipes for an Egyptian quail foie gras soup, and another of duck skewers flavored with green masala and served with vegetable samosas. This is all to show the breadth and the vibrancy of African cooking, which he considers staggering.

The charm that won over Africans is apparent in Rialto's kitchen. Samuelsson jokes with Jody Adams, Rialto's chef and co-owner, as they discuss a meal from his book planned for early December. His book tour is centered around chef friends and the kitchens he likes around the country, he says, adding that Rialto's is especially friendly. "When I got here this morning," he says, "the prep cook immediately wanted to feed me."

He isn't sure he likes the relationship Americans have to food, calling it "very troublesome." And though we might think of Africans as poor, he says, the traditions of eating together, often in extended family groups, not only help relationships, but give food a social focus. It's healthier all around, he thinks.

And that's his hope: that this big volume will tell readers about unfamiliar cuisines and give them a new perspective on Africa. Instead of pitying "poor" Africa," he hopes we can discover the similarities.

"Food," he says, "is one way into the culture."