Samoan Palusami, or a Sexier Creamed Spinach

Today, I’m so very happy to present to you a sexier take on creamed spinach.

Wait. What? If you read the title of today’s post, and/or that opening sentence, and it caused you to do a little eyebrows raised, double-take – like why is this gal dropping blogs about something so after thought-y as creamed spinach? – then you’re in good company. As I was drafting up this post, typing away at my computer, my husband breezed by me, casting a quick glance at my screen.

The above exclamation is essentially the exact reaction I received from him. I was mocked. HEAVILY.

“YES.” I responded, shoring up my shoulders in confident defiance. “CREAMED SPINACH. And it’s the best, actually. Had to stop myself from licking the pan clean. I’m bringing sexy back to a classic steakhouse creamed spinach in this post today, and honestly pretty jazzed about it …

… Lucas? Lucas?“

By that time I’d lost him and my rambles were only being listened to by my cat, Henry. Creamed spinach, it seems, tends to be a little unexciting – a little lackluster, let’s say – to lots of folks but I personally love the stuff and wanted to give it some attention here on My Kitchen Little.

What is Creamed Spinach?

A total old-school steakhouse classic, creamed spinach, like all “creamed” things, is spinach that has been cooked down and combined with various other ingredients that lend a decidedly creamy consistency to the final product. Sometimes you’ll see it made with heavy cream, sometimes cream cheese, sometimes a mix of parmesan cheese and half and half. There really are a few ways to get to great tasting creamed spinach, and today, I’m sharing my favorite version.

Why THIS Creamed Spinach?

Not to be all “so that one time when I went to Samoa …” But, this one time, when I went to Samoa, I was treated to an absolutely stunning table of food prepared by the matriarch of a beautiful family. Yes, I traveled to the wild and mysterious South Pacific islands of both Samoa and American Samoa about 10 years ago exactly, trading the then frigid, near blizzard-like Midwestern conditions in which I was living, for those of the tropical, balmy, ocean-breezed isles that were home to a good friend of mine.

My friend played the part of hostess with the most-ess to a “t,” touring me around the island of American Samoa and giving me the week of a lifetime, in so many ways. But, ever true to form, it is the food memories that have proven themselves the most sticky, the hardest for time to dull with its passing. Amidst the traversing of waterfalls, the exploring of geysers, and the conquering of sea cliffs … alongside the ocean kayaking, snorkeling in whale sanctuaries, and experiencing the closest thing to actual quicksand on planet earth, was the food. Yes, the food was something else; its presence compelling, its impact everlasting.

My friend Emily, whom I was visiting, showed great intentionality in our dining choices throughout my week-long stay in Pago Pago, American Samoa and I was deeply appreciative of it.

We enjoyed pig roasts on the beach, cooking together with friends, fresh coconut pina coladas at Tisa’s “The Bar at the End of the World,” and shots of vodka with Russian expats. But the most memorable affair for me was unquestionably the lunch we shared with colleagues of hers one afternoon. Unassuming, unpretentious, and unbelievable (truly) in its scope, the table of food that was prepared by the beautiful matriarch of this family was authentically Samoan and deliciously different (for me).

There were whole roasted fish, platters and plates of vegetables, succulent pork, and the potato salad that Emily and I contributed. Fresh fruits, sweet pies, and ice creams were presented, punctuating the tropical flavors of the meal perfectly. But, my hands-down favorite item on that vibrant, voluptuous table of home-cooked food was the palusami. Essentially a creamed spinach with a Samoan twist, the creamy, rich-tasting palusami that was served to us that afternoon was the perfect accompaniment to the rest of the fare. With fresh coconut milk as it’s creaming element, this dish was packed with taro leaves and vegetables and a very subtle sweetness that made it addictive and frankly, impossible to stop eating.

I’ve simply never forgotten it.

What is Samoan Palusami?

Samoan palusami, like Hawaiian lau lau or Filipino Laing, is “A traditional Samoan dish of wrapped bundles of taro leaves with a coconut and onion filling. Sometimes made with chicken, …fish [or corned beef] along with the coconut. Very similar to our Hawaiian lau lau.” (as defined by Cooking Hawaii)

Now, my memory doesn’t always serve me correctly, but my recollection of the palusami I enjoyed that afternoon on American Samoa was a spinach-based concoction, with leaves of fresh coconutty spinach cooked down inside the taro-wrapped pouch. It instantly made me think of the creamed spinach that I’d so often pushed away or picked and prodded at on many a steakhouse restaurant plate as a kid, but just so much more interesting and attention-grabbing.

So today, I’m paying homage to that wonderful dish I experienced while I was in American Samoa, but I’m presenting it in a way that is very easy to prepare and requires simple, accessible ingredients that you should be able to find with no problem. Frozen spinach and canned coconut milk will team up to re-create that taro and coconut creation I enjoyed, and the additional pops of flavor from crushed pepper flakes, nutmeg, decadent cream cheese, and garlic/onions are true to a classic creamed spinach, more or less. The crust of cheese on top is me being true to myself. I do hope you understand.

Frozen vs. Fresh Spinach

This version is my favorite for a couple of reasons. It’s very fast and low-maintenance, which is always a win in my book. Part of this is due to the help I’m taking from the freezer section of my grocery store, as I’m using frozen chopped spinach, rather than fresh baby spinach. Frozen spinach is one of the best bargains a grocery store has to offer and, while I love fresh baby spinach and do use it more often than frozen, the amount I’d have to purchase and then cook down to make this skillet’s worth of creamed spinach is not small – you’d have to fill up your shopping cart. So, for efficiency’s sake, we’re going with frozen today, and it works beautifully.

How to Make Creamed ANYTHING

This recipe is really a ratio more than some specific set of directives that must be adhered to to achieve success. She’s simple-minded, this recipe, and very ready to be messed with. For example, if spinach isn’t your thing (Popeye won’t take any offense, it’s fine). This very easy, one-pan method we’re employing today works well with a wide variety of other produce – simply replace the spinach with any of the items listed below, and you’re off to the races. The amounts don’t have to be exact here either – this isn’t baking.

The idea is to simply fill your pan with the veggie, cooked down along with some onions and garlic and whatever spices you see fit, and a “creaming agent” of some sort (today I’m introducing my secret Samoan-inspired weapon of coconut milk). Top your luscious, well-seasoned mixture with cheeses, broil until golden and …. by jove you’ve done it! You’ve made creamed anything.

• Creamed shredded brussels sprouts and bacon (dang that sounds good)
• Creamed leeks (wonderful under some salmon)
• Creamed mushrooms (a little like lazy-person’s cream of mushroom soup)
• Creamed pearl onions
• Creamed fennel
• Creamed spaghetti squash

I’ve called this “a sexier creamed spinach” for the following reasons (in case you were wondering)

1. the coconut milk. it really takes this classic creamed spinach into a very wonderful, brave new world. A Samoan world, you might say. It’s subtly sweet and, in addition to the Samoan palusami, kind of gives me a palak paneer vibe, the Indian spinach and coconut milk-based classic.
2. the double cheese topping: Using both a combination of parmesan and mozzarella on top gives this creamed spinach a layer of crispy crunch that definitely elevates it into new heights. I wanted to be careful here, though, as I tested with a cheesy breadcrumb topping as well, which was wonderful, but really made for more of a spinach casserole than a creamed spinach. So, to be fair, I left the breadcrumbs out and simply doubled up on the cheeses and unabashedly showered the entire surface with them.
3. the hint of spice: A pinch of crushed red pepper flakes really takes this spinach right where it needs to be. Just as the cheese served to give the top of the dish a nice textural break, the red pepper flakes add a fuzzy hint of spice to every bite. These small yet potent details are what make an otherwise straightforward classic like this more memorable, more interesting, and simply more delicious.

If you like the looks of this Best Ever Creamed Spinach, then you might also enjoy:

Greek Inspired Chicken Spanakopita Pot Pie

Garlicky Lemon Pepper Roasted Asparagus

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