galley design

Victoria Allman Breaks-In a Trawler Galley

Victoria Allman Breaks-In a Trawler Galley

Chef/Author Victoria Allman in the Krogen 55' Expedition Galley -- Photo Courtesy of Kadey-Krogen

Chef/Author Victoria Allman in the Krogen 55' Expedition Galley -- Photo Courtesy of Kadey-Krogen

At last week’s Trawler Fest, our own favorite professional chef, Victoria Allman, treated a group of VIP guests of Kadey-Krogen to an evening of haute cuisine hors d’oeuvres (classy snacks).  For two evenings, Victoria gave the gorgeous galley aboard the Krogen 55′ Expedition a workout.  The Kadey-Krogen folks (author Shannon Band, actually) wrote about the show and the dining delights in their latest blog, which you can read here.  Kadey-Krogen recently upgraded the galley designs and you will now find seriously upscale features, such as Viking ranges and the like on new Kadey-Krogen yachts.

I’m planning to talk with Victoria about not only the Krogen 55′ Expedition galley, but about galley design aboard yachts in general.  As the chef aboard several megayachts for many years now, Victoria knows all about both the hardware and software (food) requirements for fine dining at sea.  If you’ve read her book, “Sea Fare, A Chef’s Journey Across the Ocean,” you know she’s a great storyteller with some delectable recipes.  In fact, Victoria just released her second book, “SEAsoned, A Chef’s Journey with Her Captain,” which complements more great recipes with the often-spicy tales of professional life aboard these megayachts.  I wonder if I’m too old to ship out?

Anyway, look for our talk with Victoria about yacht galley design here on OceanLines after we get back from the Miami International Boat Show, in two weeks.

Copyright © 2011 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved.

Posted by Tom in Cruising Under Power, Cruising Under Sail, Gear & Apparel, megayachts, People, People & Profiles

The 50th Krogen 48′ Heralds an Ergonomic Makeover

View of the galley and salon of the Krogen 48' AE

View of the galley and salon of the Krogen 48' AE

Kadey-Krogen Yachts said yesterday that the 50th edition of its highly successful 48′ North Sea line is the first to sport a series of now-standard modifications that significantly improve liveability aboard a boat that was already highly regarded in the liveaboard community.  The company took the opportunity to re-badge the boat as the “Krogen 48′ AE,” the AE short for “Advanced Ergonomics.”  The changes include updates to the layouts of the salon, pilothouse and flybridge, as well as the incorporation of home-sized stairs and bannisters to ease movement through the boat.

I would like to tease the good-natured Larry Polster, Kadey-Krogen’s vice president, about how “Advanced” these ergonomic changes really are, but the truth is, in the cruising world they ARE advanced.  Not surprisingly, Kadey-Krogen collected the input from its customers to focus these updates on liveability — that somewhat undefined quality of making a boat easy to live aboard.

The Krogen 48′ North Sea has always been a favorite of long-distance cruisers, passagemakers and liveaboards.  The size seems to be a particular sweet spot for couples who want to live aboard and the boat holds its value extremely well.  A quick survey of Krogen 48′ models for sale on Yachtworld has even ten-year-old boats still well over the $700K mark, which means they really haven’t lost any value at all.

Back to the changes incorporated in the Krogen 48′ AE.  Here’s a brief list:

  • An option for an L- or U-shaped settee along the starboard side of the salon
  • A table that both expands and raises and lowers to serve as coffee table and dining table for eight.
  • A larger galley forward to starboard, with a now-standard Viking four-burner range, household size fridge/freezer, convection microwave, and room for both a trash compactor and dishwasher.
  • A nearly floor-to-ceiling pantry opposite the galley, on the port side.
  • New, deep and wide steps steps up to the pilothouse, with a sturdy bannister for security.
  • A redesigned pilothouse that accommodates side-by-side helm chairs and a larger electronics console (hooray!!).
  • New molded steps outside the portside pilothouse door up to the boat deck and flybridge.
  • Boat deck will accommodate both a 13-foot tender, as well as a summer kitchen.
  • The flybridge helm is now off to starboard, with an L-shape settee to port.

Kadey-Krogen is going through some of its other models just coming intro production now and making some of these same ergonomic changes, particularly to steps and stairs.  Does this kind of change exact a price in terms of space utilization? Of course. But the 48′ is big enough to handle the changes and the improvements in “liveability” are absolutely worth the price. If you’re going to live aboard one of these boats, the convenience and safety of actual human-sized stair treads and risers is more of a big deal than you might think.

For more pictures of the changes involved, check out the November blog entry of the Kadey-Krogen marketing team.  You can get a good feel for the new helm and flybridge arrangement in the pictures there.  You can check out the Krogen 48′ AE at Trawler Fest in Fort Lauderdale at the Bahia Mar January 27-29, and at the Miami International Boat Show (Sea Isle Marina location), from Febryary 17-21.

Copyright © 2011 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved.

Posted by Tom in Boats, Cruising Under Power, Powerboats

Sea Fare Autumn 2010 — Victoria Allman in the Galley

Editor’s Note — Victoria Allman is the chef aboard a 143-foot megayacht and the author of the recently released “Sea Fare:  A Chef’s Journey Across the Ocean.”  This is the ninth in a series of periodic columns here on OceanLines featuring her irresistible recipes. Best of all for OceanLines readers, who are travelers of the first order, Victoria also gives us a nice taste of the destinations and context in which her recipes were developed. Last month, we joined her in the raucous good eats of the Hong Kong dim sum restaurant and Victoria’s take on Har Gow.  In this  installment, she is in the South Pacific and her friend Nunu supplies her with the freshest possible Mahi-Mahi.  If you’d like to read her book, just click on the ad in the right sidebar on OceanLines and that will take you to an Amazon link where you can order it.

———-

Cruising in the South Pacific

Cruising in the South Pacific

The South Pacific Dream

“Iorana, Victoria.  Mahi today?” Nunu, a dark Tahitian man with tribal tattoos of tikis, turtles, and rays wrapped around his bicep and stretched down his muscular calves, dropped a blunt-nosed fish on the back deck.  The iridescent greens and blues still flashed on its silver skin indicating it had just been caught.

“Thanks, Nunu.  Will you stay for lunch?” Nunu had been bringing me mahi each time we anchored in the lagoon of Maupiti. With guests on board, I rarely had time for more than a quick hello and to ask about his family, but today it was just the crew.

His face lit up like our navigational spotlights.  “Me? On here?”  He looked up at the towering levels of teak decks and polished stainless rails.  Pangaeawas quite different from the fishing boats he was used to seeing come through the pass in Maupiti.

Maupiti, the smallest and most isolated of the Society Islands in French Polynesia, is a minuscule version of Bora Bora, with a sharp ridgeline summit that dominates the middle of the tiny island.  The calm sapphire water of the lagoon and sleepy swaying palm trees of the surrounding motus are what South Pacific dreams are made of.

 But we had to fight for that peaceful feeling of paradise inside the lagoon.  A storm had hit the area earlier that morning, creating rough waters. 

Most French Polynesian islands are ringed by submerged reefs, part of their volcanic evolution, having erupted from the ocean floor and cooled to create fertile mountain islands. Breaks in these reefs allow boats to enter and exit the lagoons.  Many are wide enough to pass through without incident, but some, like Maupiti, are narrow and dangerous.  The tides rush out daily, carrying extreme volumes of water through the small gap and create a monstrous standing wave with enough force to push even large boats like Pangaea up onto the reef.  On top of that, a south swell from the storm ran against the outgoing tide, creating another challenge to get through. 

Michael, our captain, and Patrick, the first mate, surveyed the scene with binoculars, checking for wave breaks and currents before deciding to enter the lagoon.  This was not a place to be shipwrecked

“Come to starboard to line up the range,” Patrick called to Michael.  He read the water for the slightest change that would send Pangaea off course.  Churning white water lay before us, paving the way.

“How far to the reef on starboard?” Michael asked, without taking his eyes off the bow of the boat. Without rearview mirrors, he relied solely on distances called to him by Patrick.

“You’ve got a good line. You’ll clear by fifteen feet.”

We entered the pass at eight knots and heeled to the right.  I ran down stairs to the galley and lunged for the bowl of noodles I was preparing as it began to slide off the counter.  But just as quickly, we righted and sharply turned to port.  I slammed against the counter. The movement of the boat settled down.  I went to the aft deck to look at the cut we had just passed through. 

The thunderous waves roared high.  Water rushed through the break with the speed of white water rapids.

But inside the lagoon we were sheltered. The water was blue and sparkling, like a mermaid’s bath.  I stood baking in the menacingly bright sun. While lost in a daydream, a sleek yellow and white fishing boat with Tahitian designs stenciled on the side approached.  I smiled and waved.

Nunu pulled up alongside the back of Pangaeaand threw me the line to tie off. His boat was specially designed to drive from the bow with one hand while holding a spear with the other.  He was a professional, adept at catching fish as they raced the same waves we had just sailed through.  One of Nunu’s victories lay in the bottom of the boat.  My smile widened.  Forget the noodles, we were having mahi for lunch that day.

“Iorana, Nunu.”

 Nunu followed me to the galley, his eyes wide with wonder.  He laid the mahi on the counter like a delicate flower and picked up my filleting knife.  He tested the sharpness by running the blade across his thumb.  With a nod of approval, he inserted it behind the fish’s gill and ran it down the backbone in one fluid movement.  He flipped the large and cumbersome fish over like it was no more than a paperback and repeated the procedure.  Nunu lifted the flesh from the backbone leaving a bare skeleton as if it had picked clean by vultures.  He peeled the skin from the fillet and with the speed of a samurai warrior he sliced his catch into sixteen equal portions. 

Now it was my turn to have wide eyes.  “Nunu, you’re a star.  I’ve never seen a fish butchered so quickly.”  It would have taken me half an hour to perform that task and it wouldn’t have looked anywhere near as perfect. “Or so cleanly.” The portions were smooth and exact. 

Nunu winked.  “I do this everyday. Fish is the only food on the island.” 

I looked out the window at the beauty surrounding us.  I could get used to this.  Sunshine, blue water, and a diet of mahi everyday.  Maupiti was quickly becoming my South Pacific dream.

———-

Mahi-Mahi Corn Chowder by Victoria Allman

Mahi-Mahi Corn Chowder by Victoria Allman

Mahi-Mahi Corn Chowder

  • 2 slices thick-cut bacon
  • 4 cloves garlic, sliced thin
  • 1 cup onion, chopped
  • 2 stalks celery, chopped
  • ½ red pepper, chopped
  • 1 tablespoon fresh thyme, chopped
  • 6 cups chicken stock
  • 1 cup potatoes, diced
  • ½ serrano pepper, minced
  • 1 tablespoon sea salt
  • 12 grinds black pepper
  • 1 can (400 ml) coconut milk
  • 4 ears of corn, shucked
  • 2 pounds mahi-mahi, sliced into 1” squares
  • 3 tablespoons cilantro, chopped
  • 1 lime, juiced

 

Chop all the vegetables no bigger than a kernel of corn.  Slice bacon to similar size.  Sauté bacon in a heavy-bottomed soup pot, over medium-high heat, stirring often, for 5 minutes until crisp and golden.  Add onion and garlic and sauté another 3 minutes until soft.  Add celery and sauté 2 minutes.  Add red pepper and sauté 2 minutes more minutes, stirring occasionally.  Add thyme, chicken stock, potatoes, serrano pepper, sea salt and black pepper.  Bring back to a boil and reduce the heat to medium.  Simmer for 20 minutes.  Add coconut milk and fresh corn from the cob.  Simmer 5 more minutes. Slice mahi-mahi into 1” squares and add to the pot.  Simmer 5 minutes until fish is cooked through. Add chopped cilantro and juice of a lime. 

Taste for seasoning and serve.

Serves 6

Recipe and narrative Copyright © 2010 by Victoria Allman.

Copyright © 2010 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved.

Posted by Tom in Cruising Under Power, Cruising Under Sail, megayachts, Passagemaking News

Sea Fare August — Victoria Allman in the Galley

Editor’s Note — Victoria Allman is the chef aboard a 143-foot megayacht and the author of the recently released “Sea Fare:  A Chef’s Journey Across the Ocean.”  This is the eighth in a series of periodic columns here on OceanLines featuring her irresistible recipes. Best of all for OceanLines readers, who are travelers of the first order, Victoria also gives us a nice taste of the destinations and context in which her recipes were developed. Last month, we savored the sweet tradition of Bahamian sweet coconut bread  In this month’s installment, she is in Hong Kong and her friend Vivian exposes her to the culinary chaos and delight of the dim sum house. If you’d like to read her book, just click on the ad in the right sidebar on OceanLines and that will take you to an Amazon link where you can order it.

While this piece was previously published, we lost it during a move to new servers and so we’re reposting to ensure new readers don’t miss it.

———-

A Lucky Encounter

by Victoria Allman

Maybe it was the rain or the grayness of Vancouver that transported me to another city surrounded by water, not so long ago, just across the ocean.  Physically, we were in sitting down to dim sum in a restaurant in Chinatown engulfed by the clatter of plates and the rumble of the carts rolling past. But, in my mind, I was seated in an identical restaurant in Hong Kong, escaping, not only the rain, but also the chaos of the street.

It was six years earlier and I had been overwhelmed by Hong Kong.  The lights of the city burned neon bright.  The whirl of people passing, rushing to their destination, disoriented me.  My newfound friend Vivian was leading me through her city and was drowning in the confusion. I needed a reprieve. It was a Saturday morning and we ducked into a crowded dim sum restaurant for a meal.

“Har gau, chiu-chao,” a short woman with straight black hair called as she weaved her rickety cart through the labyrinth of tables. The bamboo steamers piled precariously on top jolted forward at an unnatural angle as the cart bumped to a stop against our table leg. The oolong tea in my glass leaped up and over the edge.

Vivian said something in rapid-fire Cantonese and the woman plunked two of the steamers down in front of us.  She grabbed for the paper on the edge of the table and ticked off two boxes before she pushed on, not once breaking a smile.

“This one is pork.”  Vivian used her chopsticks to point at the dumplings nestled on a bed of cabbage. “And, this one is shrimp.”

The pink of the shrimp glowed from within its translucent wrapper.  I worked my chopsticks around the small bundle and prayed it wouldn’t slip from my grip before I had tasted what was inside.  There was a luscious feel on my tongue just before the dumpling slid down my throat like a light slippery noodle.  Startled, and not wanting the sensation to end, I looked back into the steamer.  Empty. Vivian had already eaten the other har gau.

“Just two?” I asked. “Will she be back with more?” I looked around the crowded room hoping to spot the same woman again.

Vivian giggled. “Just wait. There is more to come.” As I tried to grasp the pork bundle in the other steamer, Vivian said, “We will have six, or eight, or maybe nine different things.”

I looked at her, wondering if her strange counting was a mistaken translation to English.  She must have sensed my question and started to explain. “In our culture, lucky numbers are based on Chinese words which sound similar to other Chinese words. All numbers sounding like words with positive connotations are considered auspicious, such as numbers 6, 8 and 9.”  I smiled, liking the idea of having an auspicious meal.  

Another middle-aged woman came by with beef ribs.  Vivian nodded her head and another round steamer was plopped on top of our empty ones along with a plate of steamed Chinese broccoli and oyster sauce.  The smell of ginger emanated from the bamboo.  I sucked the tender five-spice flavored bones as Vivian continued.  “Numbers like 4, 5 and 7 are considered unlucky.” The stem of the broccoli crunched as she bit into it. “Number seven, for example, means spiritual or ghostly.” She reached for another long stalk. “Also, the seventh month of the Chinese calendar is called the ghost month when all the gates of hell are opened for spirits to visit the living.” 

Oh, I didn’t want that.

I counted the plates in front of us, four, and quickly looked around for the next cart. Battered salt and pepper squid appeared, as well as crispy-fried wontons filed with pork and Chinese mushrooms.  I relaxed, knowing we were back to a lucky number of dishes.

“We start with lighter steamed dishes and then move on to fried.” Vivian was a wealth of knowledge.  I was so wrapped up in the history and taste explosions in my mouth that the cacophony going on around me faded.  I was intrigued.

It was that glimpse into her culture that I tried to relate to Patrick back in Vancouver.  I struggled to remember which numbers were the lucky ones. I didn’t want to get it wrong and start our exploration of the Canadian coast on a bad note.  The noisy atmosphere transported me back as I searched my memory for the accurate information. Plates of sticky rice and paper-thin pancakes scattered around our table. The opening of the front door brought a wave of the scent of barbecued duck through the restaurant from the birds hanging in the window. 

I tapped my pointer and middle fingers on the table when a scrawny man in a white dishwashers jacket came by to refill my tea, remembering that was the sign of thanks. I felt like I was back in Hong Kong with Vivian that day. And whether I had five, seven, or nine dishes in front of me, I felt lucky to be eating such delicacies again.

———-

 
 
 
 
 

Dim Sum from Your Own Floating Palace -- Photo Courtesy of Victoria Allman

Dim Sum from Your Own Floating Palace -- Photo Courtesy of Victoria Allman

Har Gow

When I first read this recipe, I thought it was too much work.  But, after the first trial, I realized they were easy, just finicky and definitely worth the time.  I set aside three hours and make enough to freeze for future use.  These are tasty afternoon snacks, hors d’oerves or light lunches.

Sweet Soy Dipping Sauce:

  • 1/4 cup soy sauce
  • 2 tablespoons rice wine vinegar
  • 2 tablespoons water
  • 1 teaspoon brown sugar
  • 1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil

Whisk all together and set aside.

Shrimp Filling:

  • 1 pound shrimp, peeled and chopped into ¼” dice.
  • ¾ teaspoon sea salt
  • 2 tablespoons fatty bacon, minced
  • 3 tablespoons bamboo shoots, rinsed and chopped fine
  • 1 tablespoon green onions, white part only, diced fine
  • 1 ½ teaspoons cornstarch
  • ¾ teaspoons sugar
  • 1/8 teaspoon white pepper
  • 1 ½ teaspoons Shaoxing rice wine
  • 1 teaspoon sesame oil

Mix together diced bacon, bamboo shoots and green onions and mince finely with a knife until well combined.  Mix into shrimp and set aside.  In a smaller bowl, whisk together cornstarch, sugar, white pepper, Shaoxing rice wine, and sesame oil. Mix into the shrimp and marinate for 30 minutes while you mix the dough.

Wheat Starch Dough:

  • 1 cup wheat starch
  • ½ cup tapioca starch
  • ¼ teaspoon sea salt
  • 1 cup boiled water, cooled for 2 minutes
  • 4 teaspoons canola oil 

Mix wheat starch, tapioca starch and salt.  Pour in half the hot water and stir with a wooden spoon until incorporated.  Add the rest of the hot water and work into dough.  Add canola oil as soon as dough begins to come together and knead with your hands for a minute to make a smooth, play-dough like dough. Divide into four equal balls and cover with saran wrap.  Rest for 5 minutes before rolling. 

Slice a ziplock bag down the sides and brush with canola oil.  Roll one of the portions of dough into a 1” log and divide into 8 portions.  Cover with saran wrap.  Take one portion, roll it into a ball and press between the ziplock bag with a flat-bottomed glass to create a 4” thin circle.  Set aside and cover with saran.  Repeat process with all eight small pieces. 

Making the dumplings:

Place one of the rounds in your slightly cupped hand, gently.  Spoon two teaspoons of filling into the center.  Gently close your hand around the filling to seal the edges of the dough in a half moon.  Place in a bamboo steamer basket lined with baking paper.  Repeat with the rest of the circles. Use a little canola oil on your fingertips and gently crimp the edges of each parcel to make a decorative wave pattern.

Place steamer over boiling water.  Cover and steam for six minutes.

Repeat procedure with the next disk of dough while the dumplings are steaming.

Remove finished dumplings and place on a plate to serve with sweet soy dipping sauce. Or, cool and refrigerate for up to two days or freeze for up to one month.  Re-steam for 3 minutes to heat.

Recipe and narrative Copyright © 2010 by Victoria Allman.

Copyright © 2010 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved.

Posted by Tom in Cruising Under Power, Cruising Under Sail, Destinations, People
Sea Fare May — Victoria Allman in the Galley

Sea Fare May — Victoria Allman in the Galley

Editor’s Note — Victoria Allman is the chef aboard a 143-foot megayacht and the author of the recently released “Sea Fare:  A Chef’s Journey Across the Ocean.”  This is the fifth in a series of periodic columns here on OceanLines featuring her irresistible recipes. Best of all for OceanLines readers, who are travelers of the first order, Victoria also gives us a nice taste of the environment and context in which her recipes were developed. Last month, we savored the Santorini Eggplant Salad.  In this month’s installment, her megayacht is in Morocco and the smells of the cooking in the marketplace draw Victoria in. If you’d like to read her book, just click on the ad in the left sidebar on OceanLines and that will take you to an Amazon link where you can order it.

—–

Moroccan Meanderings

by Victoria Allman

The narrow streets of the medina tangled like veins flowing to the heart of the city. The souq (market) was where we were headed. Saffron yellow, burnt-red and tan spices mounded in barrels along the way.  Mule carts laden with bundles of fresh mint, coriander and parsley were parked along the side of the street.

Shopping in the Moroccan Medina - Photo by Victoria Allman

Shopping in the Moroccan Medina - Photo by Victoria Allman

“Just look.  Just look.” Arabian men sat in front of endless stalls like auctioneers bidding us to enter their shops. “Ali Baba, come look.”  Patrick’s blond beard evoked the nickname we heard called to us everywhere.  It stood out as much as the red hair I tucked behind a scarf.  No amount of discretion in this Muslim country would hide the fact we were two pale-skinned people among a darker race.

Our foray into the labyrinth had meaning.  We had a destination.  The problem was we were hopelessly lost.

“Ali Baba, where are you going?”  A man asked.  After an hour of trying to find the correct alley we resigned ourselves to ask for help.

“Mechoui?” Patrick hesitated not sure he was pronouncing it right.

“Yes, come,” he said.  We shrugged off the anxiety of being lost like a shawl from our shoulders and gave ourselves over to the guide. 

Hazzid had the soft features of a Berber man.  His dark tight curls were trimmed close to the scalp, his skin a latte color.  His dress of black jeans and a Western jacket told the all too familiar tale of a man who left the mountain village to work in the larger city.  He wove us down serpentine alleyways and around corners.  He walked fast, glancing back to make sure we followed close. 

“Watch, Victoria.  Watch here.”  He pointed out every misplaced stone that maimed the street, caring for me like he would his own child. 

The hot smoky smell of roasted meat alerted us that he’d found the place. A row of tables heaving with cuts of lamb spread out in front of us.  Eyes stared at us from roasted sockets as we passed the first stall.  The second table was identical to the first, a mountain of legs, ribs and rumps.  The scent of cumin followed us from stall to stall. 

Finally we stopped.  “My family,” Hazzid introduced us to two men in white chef’s jackets, their bellies stained with grease.

“La bes,” I ventured a Berber greeting.  They laughed in unison.

“Hello.  Big welcome.”  Smiles erupted on their faces. 

Hazzid stepped behind his brothers and lifted a round stone from the floor. “Victoria, look.”  This time he wasn’t cautioning me.  This time he showed me how the lamb was cooked.  Through the manhole was a pit dug deep under the street.  In the center of the chamber embers of a long-burning fire glowed, lighting the space.  A dozen lamb carcasses hung from hooks above the coals.  Heavily scented smoke clouded the space, permeating the meat with its flavor.  The earth-oven had cooked the lamb slowly, for hours, melting away fat and leaving moist, tender meat.

“Mechoui,” Hazzid stated in way of an explanation.

“You try?” One of the men asked.

“Yes, please.”  This is what we came for.  He raised a large cleaver.  With one stroke he split the lamb in front of him through the backbone.  Another blow sectioned off a hunk for us.  Tendrils of steam rose from the chopping process.  Using the knife and his free hand, he scraped and scooped the meat onto one side of a scale, on the other he stacked weights.

The spices of the Moroccan Market Place - Photo by Victoria Allman

The spices of the Moroccan Market Place - Photo by Victoria Allman

“One kilo.  Good for you.”  He heaped more meat than I could imagine eating onto a paper plate and loaded the top with two rounds of Moroccan pita bread.  I reached for the plate, but Hazzid quickly grabbed it from me.  It was clear he was now our host.  He carried the meat up the stairs to the open-air terrace above the stall.

We wasted no time.  Soft pieces of meat fell from the bones.  Custom dictated we eat only with our right hand; something that proved harder than mastering chopsticks.  We dipped the meat into dishes of cumin salt.  Succulent flavor filled my mouth and coated the inside with silk.  Hot juice glistened my fingers.  Patrick groaned.  This was good.  We devoured the whole plate and I wondered if Muslim customs would frown on a woman sucking the bones in public.  It took a great deal of inner strength to resist the urge.

Hazzid returned with a tray of tea.  He held the ornate silver teapot at a great height, pouring clear brown liquid in an elaborate show of service into the tiny glasses below.  The high pour brought new aromas to the air.  Fresh mint replaced the smell of roasted lamb making my mouth water again.

Hazzid held his cup high.  “Big welcome.” And with that we were left on our own to meander the streets home, our bellies pregnant with the flavor of Morocco.

Moroccan Mechoui

By Victoria Allman
Author of: Sea Fare: A Chef’s Journey Across the Ocean
www.victoriaallman.com
Victoria on Twitter

  • 1 whole leg of lamb (or shoulder) on the bone, 6-8 pounds
  • 4 tablespoons olive oil
  • 4 cloves of garlic, minced
  • 11/2 teaspoons sea salt
  • 1 teaspoon pepper, or to taste
  • 1 1/2 teaspoon cumin
  • 1/2 teaspoon turmeric
  • 1 teaspoon paprika 
  • 2 teaspoon sea salt
  • 1 tablespoon cumin

Trim excess fat from the leg of lamb, and make a dozen or more cuts deep into the meat with the tip of a sharp knife.

Combine the olive oil with the garlic, and spices through to paprika. Spread the mixture over the entire leg of lamb, working some into the incisions made with the knife.

Place the leg of lamb in a roasting pan.

Preheat an oven to 250°F (120/130°C).

Cover the lamb with foil, sealing the edges tightly. Roast the lamb, basting hourly and resealing the foil each time, for 7 hours, or until the juices run clear and the meat is tender enough to pinch off the bone.

Transfer the lamb to a platter and allow it to rest for 15 minutes before serving. If desired, the juices can be poured over and around the lamb.

Mix cumin with sea salt and serve in dishes on the side for dipping.

Recipe and narrative Copyright © 2010 by Victoria Allman.

Copyright © 2010 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved.

Posted by Tom

Kadey-Krogen Unveils Updated Krogen 48′ North Sea

Expanded Galley Design on Krogen 48' North Sea -- Photo Courtesy of Kadey-Krogen Yachts

Expanded Galley Design on Krogen 48' North Sea -- Photo Courtesy of Kadey-Krogen Yachts

Kadey-Krogen Yachts recently announced that it has begun delivering an updated version of the venerable Krogen 48′ North Sea trawler. The boat was introduced in 1996, and like all boats, it has evolved and changed as a result of owner feedback and advancements in technology. Key changes to the Krogen 48′ are an enlarged galley and a redesigned flybridge.

Here’s the announcement from Kadey-Krogen:

Owner feedback was the driving force in changes made to the Krogen 48’ all of which enhance the liveability of the boat. The centerpiece of the newly enlarged galley on the Krogen 48’ is a four-burner Viking range. Household sized refrigeration is standard and there is room for a trash compactor and dishwasher as well. Stainless steel is standard on the appliances although traditional finishes are available. Kadey-Krogen also completely reengineered the flybridge. Instead of a centerline helm flanked by settees running fore and aft, the flybridge helm (with enough room for two helm chairs) is now off to starboard with an L-shaped settee to port that extends the entertainment space of the boat and makes cruising on the flybridge more comfortable for guests. The flybridge also has a summer kitchen, a feature that contributes to the boat’s self-sufficient capabilities and is popular with owners who entertain on the hook.

Larry Polster, vice president of Kadey-Krogen describes the Krogen 48’, “Our owners are the ones out there living the lifestyle so we trust that the feedback they provide will make our boats better for the next generation of Krogen owners. Though some of these changes are subtle, the latest 48’ North Sea is truly a reinvented classic.”

The second reinvented 48’ will be delivered to East Coast owners Will and Sue Parry who believe this boat will bring them full circle in their Kadey-Krogen experience. “This will be our fifth Kadey-Krogen trawler. The first was also a 48’ North Sea and shares the same name as we have given our new 48’, Second Star. We’ve owned four different models and the 48’ North Sea continues to be the vessel of our dreams.”

The first Krogen 48’ with the enlarged galley arrived in Seattle last fall. Her owners are now full time liveaboards but are graciously allowing the company to show off their new home at the Lake Union Boats Afloat show in Seattle, January 29-February 6. The second yacht with the enlarged galley arrived in the U.S. in December and is currently undergoing final commissioning. She will debut at the Ft. Lauderdale Trawler Fest Jan. 29-31 and exhibit at the Miami International Boat Show before she is delivered north to her owners in Annapolis.

To date, Kadey-Krogen has delivered 48 of the North Sea model, with hull #49 sold and under construction.

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Posted by Tom in Boats, Construction & Technical, Cruising Under Power, Industry News, Passagemaking News, Powerboats