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Dessert

A New Day – Toot – Persian Marzipan

♪Music we’re cooking to♪

Propel. That’s a good word, Mama. – Luna

Turn up the music. The music we’re cooking to.

Turn it up loud.

I mean feel the rhythm surge through your entire being and bounce off your heart kind of loud.

Louder. Louder. Louder.

Push aside the curtains, throw open the doors and windows. Take off your shoes, grab your children’s hands, step out, throw your arms up to the sky and welcome a new day.

NOROOZ – Persian New Year.

Mute all devices that jingle, jangle, and make you twitch and tumble. Silence all the chatter floating through invisible wires, invisible messengers. Selling invisible dreams and schemes.

But, turn up the music.

Loud.

Throw some almond flour in a bowl, scoop in the powdered sugar, and sprinkle the cardamom.

Slowly drizzle in the rose water. Get your hands in there and make a soft dough.

Rose water again, Mama?

A little more, Soleil. Enough to make a dough.
 
We’ve been using a lot of rose water these days, Mama.

And we’ll be using more, Luna.

It smells like Norooz, Mama.  And I just want to swim in rose water. 

We’re gonna be swimming in rose water, cardamom, nuts, saffron, greens and more greens for the next few days, girls.

And SUGAR, Mama. Don’t forget about the sugar!

And sugar, girls. To sweeten our days and our hearts.

That’s silly. Sugar sweetens our taste buds, Mama!

Sit back. Close your eyes and press record. Record the rhythm of their giggles. Sisters. The cadence of each breath, the crescendo of the eventual disagreement. And repeat back to the giggles.

It’s like cookie dough, Mama. Are you sure we don’t have to cook it?

I’m sure, Soleil.

Can we shape them how we like, Mama? I want to make a bunny.

We call them toot because we make them look like the real toot we eat – mulberries. But you can shape them however you like, Luna. No rules for toot making.

Giggles, giggles, giggles.

Soleil, did you hear what Mama said? She said toot making! Toot! Toot!

Giggles, giggles, giggles.

Feel the rhythm of their laughter surge through your entire being and bounce off your heart.

Sliver a few pistachios. Stick them in the toot, like a stem. Or bunny paws. No rules.

Arrange the toot on a platter and set them on your Haft Seen Table. To sweeten your heart, your days and your taste buds.

Gather around your Haft Seen Table and light the candles. Watch as the flames reflect off the mirror and dance to the rhythm of the music, the rhythm of their giggles, the rhythm of your heart beat.

Turn up the music loud and let the beauty of it all propel you into a new day.

Propel into Norooz.

This we year we welcome spring and Norooz on Saturday March 19th at exactly 9:30pm PDT. I wish you all a very Happy Norooz!

And please make sure you also sweeten your taste buds with the following Norooz recipes from Persian food bloggers from around the globe.

TOOT – PERSIAN MARZIPAN

Toot is a very simple treat to prepare with few ingredients, and it tastes and smells like a mystical garden. Please make sure the almond flour you use is made with blanched almonds, I used this. I’ve also cut down on the sugar content, taste and adjust to the liking of your sweet tooth. Toot is traditionally served and enjoyed for Norooz.

Ingredients:

Makes about 30-40 toot

1 cup almond flour (from blanched almonds)
1/2 – 3/4 cup powdered sugar, depending on desired sweetness
1/2 teaspoon cardamom
1-2 tablespoons rose water, plus more if needed
1/4 cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons raw pistachios, slivered to resemble stems

In a medium bowl combine the almond flour, powdered sugar and cardamom. Drizzle in the rose water 1 tablespoon at a time, gently knead until you form a soft dough that doesn’t stick to your hands. I used 2 tablespoons, plus a few extra drops. Taste and add more powdered sugar to you liking. You may need to adjust the rose water. Pinch off a little bit of dough, about a 1/2 teaspoon. Form a ball, then shape into a cone (like a mulberry), or any shape you like. No rules. Place a pistachio sliver on top and roll in granulated sugar.

Enjoy with a cup of Persian tea.

by Naz
Dessert

The Recital – Cheryl’s Milk Chocolate Yogurt Pots

She wrote this song about John Mayer. You whisper conspiratorially into his ear.

There was a time when this easy lean into his shoulder, followed by hushed murmurs, carried with it information of a different nature.

But today it’s all about Taylor Swift.

Such is the evolution of a marriage.

He – your husband – looks back at you slightly intrigued but mostly bewildered.

You – his wife – raise your eyebrows as you often do to emphasize your foolproof knowledge of a fact, and nod simultaneously to really drive home the point.

Exactly when and how you came upon this very important piece of information is unclear.

Exactly when and how Taylor Swift entered your realm of existence is also unclear.  But it was bound to happen.  You had heard of this sort of thing happening to other families.  Families with slightly older children than yours.

The young girl,15 maybe 16 years old, croons sweetly as she strums her guitar.  Her father respectfully stands a few steps behind her. Making sure she has the full spotlight.  Making sure she shines.  As he and his electric guitar provide backing – guidance – unconditional support.

Family Recital Night.

I first met Cheryl Sternman Rule at The Saveur 2014 Food Blog Awards in Las Vegas. Cheryl’s 5 second rule was one of the first food blogs I discovered early on, well before our meeting, and return to time and time again.  Not only for the tempting recipes but also for her beautiful and distinctive writing style.  Her wit and humor casually guiding your way to a muffin tin and a few wholesome and tasty ingredients.  Her laser sharp precision and unsentimental economy with words lodging a lump deep in your throat before you are even aware it’s happening.

And so it only made sense to meet for the first time and discuss our mutual love and respect for all things yogurt at the art gallery in The Bellagio Hotel as the sommelier gave us all a private tour of the collections while pairing individual wines to each painting.  A wine and art pairing. Yes. Such jobs do exist.

A few months ago Cheryl reached out to me to see if I would be interested in contributing to her new site Team Yogurt.  Friends, if there was ever a team I was destined to be a part of it would be Team Yogurt.  A delicious and informative site devoted entirely to all things yogurt.  And as if that was not enticing enough a couple of weeks ago Cheryl’s beautiful new book Yogurt Culture (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2015) landed on my doorstep and was instantly whisked off to the kitchen.

Next up is a family of four. Older daughter on piano, father on guitar, mother and younger daughter harmonizing a Pete Seeger classic.

Mother with her eyes closed.

The parents must have picked this song, you think to yourself.

Young daughter with her eyes wide open.

When will they ever learn?  You sing to yourself.

When will we ever learn?  You think to yourself.

Yogurt Culture is everything that I look for in a cookbook.  Besides the fact that it is pretty much about the one food item that I can not live without.  Cheryl’s well-researched book takes a global look at yogurt and the many ways it is incorporated into the cuisines of so many varying cultures.  Stories, history, facts and accessible recipes weave cohesively with Cheryl’s knowledgeable and friendly voice guiding your way. The photography is beautiful and simple, allowing the food to shine.  But what is most important is that Yogurt Culture makes you want to get in the kitchen and get cooking.  And what better way to start than with these elegant and decadent milk chocolate yogurt pots.

She takes her place at the piano and pushes her side-swept bangs behind her ear.  As she always does.

He takes his place a few steps behind her.  He straps on his bass guitar and turns on the amp.

She gives him a quick glance and he nods his head four times. They set off on a 45 second duet of Classical Dance.  Left hand and right hand play together. As he picks at his electric bass as gently as possible.  He is there to back her up, to provide support, to let her shine. Unconditional.

She – your daughter – takes her bow with pride and beams as she introduces her father, her accompanist – your husband – also beaming with pride.

She floats off the stage and into your arms.  She declares she’s ravenous.  Post-show hunger pangs.  You remember the sensation well.

You remind her of the milk chocolate yogurt pots waiting for her at home. The ones setting in the fridge.  You remind her of the chocolate you gently melted. She reminds you of the thick, creamy yogurt you slowly stirred into the luscious warm chocolate.

The chocolate and the yogurt melding into each other, shining as one. The sweetness of the milk chocolate backing up the tang of the yogurt.

A well-orchestrated duet.  Deliciously played, Cheryl.

MILK CHOCOLATE YOGURT POTS

Very slightly adapted from Yogurt Culture by Cheryl Sternman Rule with permission from Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.

These milk chocolate yogurt pots make for a perfect elegant dessert that you can prepare ahead of time. They are decadent, rich and mousse-like in texture.  The ingredients are few and the preparation very simple.  Please don’t skimp on the lusciousness of these yogurt pots.  Use the best quality chocolate you can find and whole milk yogurt if possible.

Cheryl tops the yogurt pots with salted roasted peanuts, which sounds delicious.  I didn’t have any peanuts on hand so I used crushed pistachios and a sprinkling of crunchy sea salt.  I also added a small pinch of cardamom to the mixture.

Ingredients:

Serves 6

8 ounces high quality milk chocolate, finely chopped (do not use chocolate chips)
2 cups plain Greek yogurt, preferably whole milk
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/8 teaspoon cardamom (optional)
Pinch of kosher salt
Confectioner’s or granulated sugar, to taste (optional)
2 tablespoons salted roasted peanuts or raw pistachios
Sea salt flakes, as garnish (optional)

1- Melt the chocolate by slowly stirring the chocolate in a double boiler over barely simmering water. (If you don’t have a double boiler use a large, heat proof bowl over a smaller saucepan filled with about 2 inches of barely simmering water.  Keep the heat as low as possible) Turn off the heat, but leave the double boiler in place over the still-warm burner so that the residual heat keeps the chocolate warm.

2- Slowly whisk the yogurt into the chocolate, stirring with a spoon at first and then switching to a whisk.  You are looking to warm the yogurt slightly so it marries completely with the chocolate and to prevent the chocolate from seizing back up and becoming gritty.  Once you’ve got a completely smooth texture, whisk in the vanilla, salt and cardamom (if using).  Taste, and if it’s not sweet enough for you add a bit of sugar (I added 2 scant teaspoons of maple syrup).  Pour the mixture into six 4 ounce ramekins or serving jar of choice.

3- Refrigerate for at least 1 hour to set (this is imperative). Garnish with salted peanuts or pistachios and flaky salt before serving.

The chocolate pots can be refrigerated, covered with plastic wrap, for up to 8 hours.

by Naz
Dessert

The Chef, the Quince, His Thoughts and Her Pie – A Quince and Labneh Pie

♪ MUSIC WE’RE COOKING TO ♪

You give the wobbly wheel a swift kick right where it counts and knock it back into place.  You may or may not utter a few unsavory words.  You and your traveling companion –  an old laundry basket on wheels – hurdle your way down the blocked off street.  Giving a quick hello to the lovely farmer who sells your precious sweet lemons to your left, and a nod of the head to the organic dates guy, who is perpetually singing “get your nature’s candy” to your right.

The Wednesday Santa Monica Farmer’s Market.

You try to keep your cool with the clog of human traffic.  Casually milling about, admiring the finger limes and slowly savoring the chocolate persimmon.  You contemplate the cute  wicker baskets (pinterest & instagram-worthy) fashionably swung on the arms of the equally cute and hip young shoppers.

You come to a sudden standstill.

You utter a few more unsavory words.

You give the rickety old wheel another kick.

You re-contemplate the cute wicker baskets.

And just as quickly you and your ever-so-moody lower back dismiss the idea.  Cute wicker baskets just don’t cut it when you’re hauling four pounds of sweet lemons, four pounds of fava beans, an armful of sour green plums, and bags upon bags of fresh herbs.

You dodge the huge restaurant crates coming at you, overflowing with edible flowers, beets and squash of every color and dimension.  You start to panic. You’re too late.  You utter a few more unsavory words at the clog of machinery that had you stuck on the Escherian stairwell, also known as the Santa Monica Freeway.

And then with no fan fare, with no trumpets blowing or declarations you spot her.  You spot a whole table full of them.  Quince.  Beh.

You don’t approach.  You admire them from afar.  You wave hello to the farmer enlisted with the delicate task of protecting these blushing beauties.  You walk right past them, thinking you’ll come right back to them.  Right after you make your way to the end of the market to pick up the pomegranate.  You make your way down to the pomegranate stand in a daze. Your head swimming with thoughts of rose water, creamy labneh, and fragrant beh.  A pie.  The whole thing pretty much comes together right there before your eyes as you gently place the pomegranate in the well-traveled and well-lived laundry cart, and make your way back to the blushing beauties.

What do you mean you sold out of them?  There was a whole table full of them just five minutes ago!

Your hands are gesticulating madly (as they quite often are wont to do).  A farcical pantomime of recreating the picturesque (pinterest & instagram worthy) table overflowing with the quince.  You know if you give a convincing performance the quince will magically reappear.  If you believe it, they will come.

You didn’t do so well in mime class.

Physical theatre was never your forte.

The quince do not reappear.

There sure was – but then came along the chef and he carted them all way.  Who knows what he’s going to do with them all.  Who knows what he’s thinking.

The farmer is matter of fact and kind.  He once invited you to a Halloween party.  You politely declined.

Your eyes dart back and forth between the tomatoes, the sun chokes, the bell peppers, and the pumpkin.  All that pumpkin.  So much beauty, so much color.  But none of it registers.  None of it matters. The one and only thing that brought you here is gone.

Absconded by the chef.

And his thoughts.

What was he thinking?

Was he thinking of taking out the rose water and gently sprinkling it, flicking it lightly with his fingers over the softening quince?  Did he look away as they blushed?  Was he thinking of stirring the cardamom into the labneh, and then stirring in some more because his eight-year-old thought it needed more?  Did he make his own labneh?  Was he thinking of layering it all in a flaky, buttery pie crust to be garnished with flecks of pistachios and ruby red jewels – pomegranate arils?  Did he offer a piece to his five-year-old only to be curtly and unequivocally rejected?  Was he thinking of saving and drying the quince seeds to use later as a hot tea to cure a nasty winter’s cough – just as his mother had instructed him to?  Did he watch with delight as his eight-year-old stepped right into the photo and scooped out the creamy labneh with a piece of quince?  Did he savor a piece all to himself with a cup of bergamot-infused black tea – only to have the moment interrupted by the everyday bickering of sisters?

What was he thinking?

POACHED QUINCE

Notes:

  • For this pie you need a fully baked and completely cooled pie shell.  I recommend an all butter crust – but use what you love.  Here are some links for tips and inspiration to make your own pie crust: Pamela Salzman video, Pie Crust 101, the kitchn, gluten free pie crust.  Please make sure your pie crust is completely cool before you fill it with the labneh.
  • If I’m using organic quince I don’t bother peeling them.  The peel becomes very soft as it cooks down.
  • Depending on their quality, quince can soften as they poach anywhere from 20 minutes to 1 1/2 hrs.  Sometimes they blush more than other times.
  • I don’t like to use too much of a sweetener either in my poached quince or in the labneh.  This pie is meant to be subtly sweet, you don’t want to overpower the natural fragrance and taste of the quince, rose water and spices.  Adjust sweetness to your own liking. If you are going to add more of a sweetener to the labneh I suggest skipping the maple syrup and using sugar.  You don’t want to thin out the labneh so much that it becomes too runny and loose for the pie.
  • You’ll have more quince than you need for this pie.  This is a good thing.  You can enjoy them over yogurt, over pancakes, or as is.  It’s a real treat!
  • You can use store-bought labneh or make you own. It’s really easy.
  • Once assembled, the pie can rest in the fridge for 30 minutes so the labneh can set before you cut into it. I was running out of light for the pictures above so I cut into it right away.  A little messy but still amazingly delicious.

Ingredients:

4 large quince, cored (and peeled if not organic)
1/2 a small lemon
1/3 cup organic cane sugar
water
1 tablespoon rose water

1 – Cut the quince in about 1/4 inch slices. (Save and dry the seeds for sore throats and coughs!)  You don’t want them so thinly sliced that as they cook down and soften they fall apart and become mushy. You want them to keep their shape.

2 – Place the sliced quince in a large heavy bottomed pot. Squeeze the lemon over the quince.  Add sugar and about 3 cups (or more) water.  Enough water to cover the quince. Gently stir to combine.  Bring to a very gentle boil so the sugar dissolves. Turn down the heat to medium-low, cover and gently simmer until the quince soften completely (but not become mushy).  Add the rose water in the final 10 minutes as they simmer.  Remove the quince and turn up the heat to slightly thicken the liquid.  Pour the liquid over the quince.  Allow to cool completely.

The quince will keep in the fridge for over a week or longer.

A QUINCE AND LABNEH PIE

Ingredients:

2 cups labneh
1/2 teaspoon cardamom
2 tablespoons grade A maple syrup, or sweetener of choice
1 teaspoon rose water
poached quince
1 9″ pie shell, fully baked and cooled
pomegranate seeds, as garnish
ground up pistachios, as garnish

1 – In a medium bowl combine the labneh, cardamom, maple syrup, and rose water. Pour the labneh mixture into the pie shell.  Smooth it over. Arrange the poached quince slices over the top.  Garnish with pomegranate seeds and ground up pistachios.  Serve right away or place in the fridge for 15-30 minutes for the labneh to set.

Will keep in the fridge for up to 3 days.

by Naz
Dessert

Yellow Flame Pudding – A Saffron and Rose Chia Seed Pudding – Sholeh Zardeh Tokhmeh Sharbati – That Woman

I am that woman.

You know the one.

You’ve seen her around town.

On the 405 – the 101 – and the 10 sometimes going East – on market days going West.

You’ve waited patiently and sometimes not so patiently for her to pull out of “your” Whole Foods parking spot.

You’ve caught a glimpse of her in your rear view mirror at school drop offs and pick ups.

You’ve pulled up beside her at the stop light.

You know the one.

The one banging her hands determinedly, passionately against the steering wheel, tossing her hair with wild abandon from side to side. And if the windows are rolled down just enough you’ve heard her euphoric cries.

Yes, yes!  You’re killing it, Jason Bentley.

I am that woman.

This chia seed pudding is inspired by one of my favorite childhood desserts: Sholeh Zard.  A very rich – vibrant yellow – saffron-infused rice pudding, scented with rosewater and spiced with cardamom and cinnamon.  The same scents and spices are used in this pudding. I’ve just traded in the rice for the more nutritious chia seeds and really cut back on the sugar content.

Chia seed puddings are one of our favorite go-to breakfasts.  It takes about five minutes to prepare and then you just let it set in the fridge overnight. The next morning you have a tasty, filling and nutritious breakfast, ready to go.  This pudding also makes an elegant dessert or after-school snack. The girls love their chocolate chia pudding made with raw cacao.  And now this saffron and rose-infused pudding has also become a staple and a favorite.  They call it Yellow Flame Pudding.

Chia seeds are an excellent source of omega-3 fatty acids, fibre, and make a great protein source.  They come in white or dark brown/black color and are both equally nutritious.  I like to use the white chia seeds for this pudding for a prettier presentation and to maintain the yellow flame of the saffron.  I find the black seeds tend to turn the color of the pudding to more of a light green.  But the taste is not altered, so feel free to use the black seeds if that’s what you have on hand – and if you don’t mind a slight color change.

I know saffron is quite expensive and not a spice that many have on hand.  But every once in a while it is worth the splurge.  I find it is also a spice very much like that prized dress or the special china that gets stashed away for that very special occasion that never comes.  And before you know it a whole year has gone by since you last used two strands of saffron for that recipe you came across. While the rest of your precious saffron is still waiting in vain in the back of the cupboard, or sharing long lost love stories with that hunk of parmesan rind you forgot you had stashed away in the freezer.  Don’t wait for that special occasion.  Tomorrow’s breakfast IS that special day.  This pudding IS that special dessert.  If you have a few strands stashed away somewhere, use them up.  And if not, go get some.  Your saffron and your taste buds will thank you.

Sholeh Zard  is also known for its beautiful presentation.  The rice pudding is traditionally designed and garnished with cinnamon, ground up pistachios and slivered almonds.  Paisleys, flowers, sayings and patterns are intricately placed on top of the pudding using stencils.  I prefer to keep things simple (I am in no way a craftsy person nor do I aspire to be – much to my children’s disappointment) but feel free to get as creative as you like with the decorative garnishes.

I am that woman.

You know the one.

The one who will text her husband:

Are you listening?  Jason Bentley is on fire.

But more importantly my husband is that man who can confidently support and share in his wife’s sheer excitement over an amazing set of music played on the radio.

I am that woman.

You know the one.

The one standing at the kitchen counter on a hot late summers morning.  One hip leaning into the cool quartz surface ever so slightly.  Gently scooping up the last bits of the Yellow Flame Pudding.  Rose water, cardamom and cinnamon working their magic.  A brilliant yellow stain and scattered bits of ancient Aztec seeds reflecting back at me.  All senses on overload.  The beats of Gorgon City (a new find) pound through the speakers.  Then my old confidante Leonrad Cohen shares with me (and only me) that it was almost like the blues.  To be suddenly jolted by Town Called Malice.  And that’s when I completely lose it.  Jason Bentley – he has pushed me over the edge.  No longer able to contain it.  I peel myself away from the cool quartz, bounce around a few times (most likely off the rhythm, my husband would tell me) sing along (most definitely the wrong lyrics) and then instinctively reach for the chia seed bag, the spices, the bottle of rose water and frantically start whipping up another batch of Yellow Flame Pudding.

I am that woman.

The three smaller bowls pictured here are hand-made by my dear and super-talented friend Kim.  Check out her fantastic and always entertaining musings on life and more on her blog: Hold Your Horse.

SAFFRON AND ROSE CHIA SEED PUDDING – SHOLEH ZARDEH TOKHMEH SHARBATI

Notes:

  • * You can use white or black chia seeds.  I prefer white chia seeds here to maintain the color of the saffron and for a prettier presentation.
  • ** You can use any kind of sweetener you like here.  I’m partial to maple syrup or honey or dates.  If using dates blend them up with your almond milk first.

Ingredients:

Serves 2-4

1/4 cup white chia seeds*
1 1/4 cup plain almond milk (unsweetend and unflavored)
2 tablespoons grade A maple syrup, or honey, or 4 medjool dates**
1 tablespoon rose water
1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom
1/8 teaspoon ground saffron steeped in 1 tablespoon hot water
cinnamon, as garnish
slivered almonds, as garnish
chopped up pistachios, as garnish

1- Put the chia seeds in a medium sized bowl.  Add the almond milk.  Mix until the chia seeds are well incorporated into the almond milk (I like to use a small whisk).  Add the rest of the ingredients and mix to combine.  Cover and put in the fridge to set overnight (or at least 8 hours).  The pudding should have the consistency of a tapioca pudding.  You can thicken by adding more chia seeds or you can thin out by adding more almond milk.  Adjust sweetness to taste.  Sprinkle with cinnamon and garnish with nuts.

Will keep in the fridge for as long as your almond milk will keep fresh.  But best enjoyed within a day as the the rose scent will dissipate over time.

by Naz
Dessert

Mothers and Daughters – Strawberries Macerated in Pomegranate Molasses with Rose Water Cream

Once upon a time, a long, long, long time ago, there was a bang which wasn’t really a bang but more of a singular moment in time when all the matter in the universe came into laser-sharp focus and all that energy in there shook around and bounced off of each other and  contracted and contracted until there was no more room so it expanded and BANG! exploded into tiny particles forming protons, neutrons and electrons – forming The Universe.  Thousands of years passed and this universe kept expanding and expanding eventually forming stars and galaxies – forming The Moon and The Sun.  My Universe.

Every morning you wake up and vow that today you will be a better mother.

You will be more patient, more adventurous, worry less, play more, not yell, improve your Barbie voice,  run faster and harder when playing the monster game, get down on your hands and knees and inspect the dead slug.  You vow to try and stay out of their way when they have disagreements – let them figure it out on their own – because you read somewhere that’s what you’re supposed to do.  You promise not to let the “baby” and “puppy” voices grate on your nerves like nails down a chalkboard.  You swear to squeeze them harder, linger in their embrace longer, and commit to memory every inhale and exhale as you watch them fall asleep.  You vow that today will finally be the day that you don your Perfumier apron, and distill the warmth of their bodies, their sweet scent, in fine Venetian glass bottles.  Because you understand – you know – that these days are fleeting.

Every night you go to bed and vow that tomorrow you will be a better daughter.

You will be more patient, more agreeable, better natured – not so reactionary.  You will slow down and walk beside her – at the speed that frail and ravaged knees now dictate. You’ll listen patiently, enthusiastically to the stories you have heard many times before. You won’t pretend to know it all – because you don’t.  You’ll remind yourself to let her mother you – because that’s what mothers like to do.  You’ll remind yourself that these days  are fleeting – you are fully aware of the preciousness of time.  Time is insolent, it knows no do-overs, it is a dictator that can never be overthrown.  No revolution, no hunger strike can change its course.  It is expanding – continually expanding.  And so you long to curl up in her lap again – just like you did when you were a child. To have her smooth, always elegant hands run through your hair – just so – to have her gently sing you your favorite lullaby.  You’ll remind yourself that once upon a time you were her Universe – you still are her Universe.

You stain your hands blood red from the fresh strawberries.   Many times you’ve had strawberries macerated in balsamic, but since you usually don’t have any balsamic around and you’re not willing to make a trip to the store, you reach for the bottle of pomegranate molasses you always have on hand.  You watch the syrup languidly ooze out of the bottle and bathe the strawberries.  You set the bowl aside and allow the flavors to meld and dance in perfect harmony.  You ask your girls – your taste testers – your shadows – your Moon and Sun – what else the macerated strawberries need.  They savor their bite, licking their lips with big smacking sounds, and confidently declare it needs salt.  It doesn’t need salt.  They always say it needs salt because that’s what you always say.  Your words, your opinions, still carry weight.  You are still their Universe.  You remind yourself it won’t be this way forever.  Time is fickle, time is irreverent.

You watch the cream slowly churn as you add the rose water and for a moment you are transported to your grandfather’s garden in Tabriz.  You were six years old chasing butterflies through the rose bushes.  You put the cap back on the bottle and just like that the memory fades.  Memories trapped in bottles. You turn to tend to the dinner simmering away on the stove.  You reach for the salt bowl.  You feel your mother’s observant gaze follow your every move.  Gently, she reminds you not to add too much salt.  You snap back saying you haven’t.  Instantly you regret it.  You taste the stew, it’s too salty.  She was right – she is always right.  Slowly, cautiously she makes her way over, puts a gentle hand on your shoulder and tells you not to worry.  She’ll fix it with a little more lemon juice.  She’ll fix it.  Because that’s what mothers do.

You serve the strawberries – tangy, sweet juices and all – and add a dollop of the rose cream to each bowl.  You instinctively extend your arm out to your mother.  She balances herself and gives her weight over to you.  Your other hand reaches for the Moon as the Sun clings to your apron.  The four of you make the slow, short walk from stove to kitchen table.  Mothers and daughters.  Protons, neutrons, electrons bouncing off of each other.  As you dig into your bowl of pomegranate molasses strawberries you look around you and marvel at it all.  The Universe – with all its mysteries and certainties is a beautiful thing to be a part of.  Your heart contracts and contracts and just when you think there is no more room BANG! it explodes and expands.

Mothers – daughters.  It’s beautiful – it’s complicated – it’s love.

Happy Mothers Day.

 

STRAWBERRIES MACERATED IN POMEGRANATE MOLASSES WITH ROSE WATER CREAM

*I don’t like my cream very sweet so I don’t add too much of a sweetener to it.  Feel free to adjust to satiate your personal sweet tooth.  You can also substitute the maple syrup for any sweetener of your choice.

Ingredients:

Serves 6

2 pints fresh strawberries, hulled and quartered or halved depending on size
2 tablespoons maple syrup (I use Grade A because it has a more subtle flavor)
1 tablespoon pomegranate molasses
1 cup very good quality heavy cream
*1 teaspoon powdered sugar, plus more as needed
1/4 teaspoon rose water, plus more to taste (I used 1/2 teaspoon)
ground up dried rose petals, as garnish (optional)
fresh mint leaves, as garnish (optional)

1-  Place strawberries in a medium sized bowl.  Add maple syrup and pomegrante molasses.  Stir to combine and set aside allowing all the flavors to meld, until the strawberries release their juices.  About one hour.

2- Chill the bowl and whisk of your stand mixer in the fridge or the freezer.  Once chilled add the cream, sugar and rose water to the bowl and whisk starting on a slow speed and increasing to a high speed until soft peaks form.  Adjust flavors as needed.

3- Serve the strawberries and their juices in a bowl with a dollop of rose water cream.  Garnish with a dusting of ground up dried rose petals and a couple of mint leaves.  Enjoy right away.  The strawberries are also fantastic over Greek yogurt or on your morning pancakes and waffles!

by Naz
Dessert

A Pistachio Bakhlava Cake – A Confessional – And an Icestorm

♪ MUSIC WE’RE COOKING TO ♪

Confession:  I meant to share this Pistachio Bakhlava Cake with you in time for Valentine’s Day.  It didn’t happen.

Confession:  I also had every intention of sharing another delicious bite of goodness with you in time for the start of the Olympics. But that required making paper-thin slices out of a big hunk of jicama.  Which in turn required getting the mandolin out of solitary confinement and declaring with it a temporary truce. You see, my history with said mandolin is a troubled one.  What once seemed so bright and promising a future quickly turned to failed experiments and useless chunks of vegetables.   But then I thought – who knows, this might be the start of a new era for us. Maybe this time, with better communication – mutual respect – some give-and-take on both our parts…But alas, tragedy once again.  What was supposed to be a graceful duet quickly turned into a wrestling match, concluding with my worst self rearing its ugly head as I hurled profanities and mangled pieces of jicama across the kitchen.  And the mandolin just sat there – lifeless –  sharp and indifferent, and perhaps a bit smug.

Confession:  The ice storm pictures are from this past December in Toronto.  It was a sight to behold – especially for those of us from water-deprived Southern California.  We were some of the lucky few who had power and heat, and simply got to marvel at the beauty and majesty of it all.  Frozen.  Some of the shots are mine, some are Ramin’s.

Confession:  I don’t really like to bake, nor do I have much of a sweet tooth.  Salty and sour is my late-night indulgence.

Confession:  I have been baking a lot lately.

Confession:  I have been enjoying baking as of late.  Much to my reluctance.

Confession:  I have been consuming more baked goods as of late.

Confession:  I have been enjoying consuming said baked goods.  Especially this Pistachio Bakhlava Cake.

Bakhlava cake is my mom’s go-to baked good.  She always has some on-hand in the freezer to serve with coffee or tea when unexpected company drops by.  The perfect little afternoon or after-dinner sweet treat.  Lately the girls have been enjoying it as an after-school snack with a cup of camomile tea.

Bakhlava cake has the same flavors as traditional bakhlava – nuts, fragrant rose water – but without all the work of turning out layers of flaky puff pastry (my newly found baking enthusiasm and patience does not encompass all that work). Traditional bakhlava is also quite rich and decadent.  This cake version is much lighter – much more satisfying to my reluctantly blooming sweet tooth. Typically, it is made with a combination of all-purpose flour and either almond meal or pistachio meal.  And it is then finished off with a healthy drizzle of a simple syrup glaze.  Of course, not one to leave a recipe alone (even when baking) I swapped out some ingredients with what I usually have in the pantry.  I used a whole grain pastry flour and traded the almond meal with raw, unsalted pistachios that I ground up into a fine meal.  Instead of using butter or vegetable oil I used coconut oil.  I like using coconut oil in certain recipes but am not a fan of infusing everything with a tropical island coconut flavor.  I didn’t want the cake to have a distinct coconut essence, and was quite pleased to discover that the coconut did not come through in this cake.  I also cut down on the regular sugar and used coconut palm sugar.  I have only recently discovered coconut palm sugar.  What I’ve learned so far is it is not as processed as regular sugar, and is low in the glycemic index with a high mineral content.  All of which sounds great but just to keep things in prespective – it is still a sweetener – so moderation is key.

This cake is intended to be moist so it really depends on being covered in a simple syrup glaze once it’s out of the oven.  I made my simple syrup with a honey/water/rose water combination.  Make sure you use a good quality mild flavored honey – I used a clover honey – orange blossom would be nice too.  You don’t want the honey flavor to take over.  The flavor and aroma that should subtly awaken and envelop your senses here is rose water – golab.  Rose water is a staple in Persian baking, ice creams, sorbets and beyond.  It is always present on our New Year Haft Seen Table and our Wedding Sofreh Aghd to literally and symbolically purify and perfume the air.  It is believed to be medicinal, cosmetic with numerous healing properties, and lest we forget, also an aphrodisiac.  The aroma alone can make you drunk with love.  If you are new to the scent and flavor of rose water I suggest starting with small amounts.  Food grade rose water is available at Middle Eastern grocery stores and can also be found online – like here or here.  Unfortunately, organic food grade rose water is not that readily available.  If you have tried any, please share with me your thoughts.  Also check out the lovely Shiva Rose’s tutorial on how to make your own rose water for cosmetic use.  It’s beautiful.

The great thing about this Pistachio Bakhlava Cake is that it easily freezes for months.  I like to serve it cut into small rectangles – cold out of the fridge or thawed out of the freezer.  A little bite of rosey sweetness with an afternoon or after-dinner tea.

Confession: Our freezer is packed with containers of Pistachio Bakhlava Cake.  Just in time for Toronto’s frozen castles to melt (or in our case – the draught to ease – and for Spring to once again rejuvanate us.  Just in time to share with friends and family for Nowruz.

PISTACHIO BAKHLAVA CAKE

Inspired by Maman’s recipe and Najmieh Batmanglij’s

Makes:  One 9×13 cake

Ingredients for the cake:

2 cups raw unsalted whole shelled pistachios
1 cup whole grain pastry flour – I used this
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 eggs
1/2 cup coconut palm sugar (or regular cane sugar) – I used this
1/2 cup coconut oil, melted and cooled to room temperature
1/2 cup almond milk or milk of choice
1/2 teaspoon cardamom
2 tablespoons rose water

Ingredients for the glaze:

3/4 cup mild flavored honey
1/2 cup water
1 tablespoon rose water

1- Preheat  oven to 350 degrees with rack  in the middle position.  Lightly grease the bottom of a 9×13 baking pan with any oil/butter of choice.  Line the pan with parchment paper with over hang so that you can easily lift the cake out.

2- Grind up the pistachios in a food processor into a fine meal.  You should have about 2 1/4 cups total meal.  Set aside 2 cups of pistachio meal.  Set aside the remaining 1/4 cup meal for sprinkling the top of the cake.

3- In a small bowl mix together the flour, baking powder and salt.  Set aside.

4- In a mixing bowl of an electrical mixer beat the eggs and sugar until creamy.  With the mixer on add in the oil, milk, cardamom and rose water.  Add the flour mixture and 2 cups pistachio meal to the wet ingredients.  Do this in batches.   Mix until just combined.

5- Spread the batter evenly into the prepared pan.  Bake until a toothpick inserted into the middle of the pan comes out clean.  About 35 – 40 minutes.

6- While the cake bakes prepare the glaze.  In a small pot over medium heat combine the honey and water.  Bring to a very gentle boil.  Stir and simmer for 5 minutes.  Remove from heat and add the rose water.  Stir to combine and set aside.

7- When the cake is ready remove from the oven and place on a cooling rack.  Pour half of the glaze over the cake.  Make sure to cover the entire cake with the glaze.  Allow the cake to absorb the glaze. About 10 minutes.  Using the parchment paper overhang GENTLY lift the cake out of the pan and place on a cutting board.  Cut the cake about every 2 inches.  5 vertical cuts and 3 horizontal cuts.  Pour the rest of the glaze over the cake.  Let the glaze get into the cuts.  Watch out the glaze doesn’t run off the cutting board!  Sprinkle the top with remaining 1/4 cup of ground up pistachios.  Allow the cake to cool.  At this point I like to cut even smaller pieces.  I make about 4 more cuts horizontally ending up with 1/2″x2″ rectangular pieces.

Serve right away or store in the fridge for up to 3 days.  I like this cake best cold out of the fridge.  It also freezes great for up to 3+ months.  If freezing make sure you line each layer with parchment paper.

by Naz
Dessert

A Sexy Dates and Walnut Pie – Ranginak

Yes.  I know.  How can dates and walnuts ever be described as sexy.

Well, maybe it’s just time to re-think sexy, and welcome some new players into this exclusive (and elusive?) club.  After all, it’s not all about outward appearances.  Most of the time it’s about how we are made to feel.  And this pie is here to help bring back the inner sexy.  Or so I hear.

Recipes are usually inherited.  And I inherited this one from an unexpected source – Luna’s wonderful Farsi teacher.  One day she was kind enough to bring us fresh, plump dates from the Persian store. The girls love dates.  We got to talking about making different desserts using dates.  She asked if I had ever tried ranginak – a dessert made with dates and walnuts.  I had never heard of it.  She went on to describe how she makes it, and very casually mentioned that gentlemen in particular love it for how it makes them feel.

It’s an aphrodisiac.  It gives “energy” and increases the libido.

Ahem – my curiosity piqued – of course.

It turns out walnuts and dates have been used for centuries to increase the libido.  I always refer to dates as natural energy bars.  Besides being delicious, they are packed with essential nutrients and vitamins and give you that extra boost of energy when you need it.  It is said Middle Eastern men have been relying on dates to increase their sexual stamina for centuries.  Walnuts, I discovered, are used as a natural Viagra.  (The omega-3 fatty oils help with “blood circulation” and like many other nuts they contain arginine – an amino acid which has been said to help with erectile dysfunction.)

It should be mentioned here that for as long as I have been thinking of starting this blog – not once did I think the words “Viagra” and “erectile dysfunction” would find their way in to a post of mine.  But here we are.

Technically, this is not a pie.  But I made it in a pie plate, so why not call it a pie.  Traditionally, the dates are stuffed with walnuts, and a hot batter made of butter and all-purpose flour is poured over the dates.  I decided to make my batter using coconut oil and whole-grain spelt flour.   The batter is stirred for about 15-20 minutes until it’s color turns golden and a caramel-like consistency is reached.

After about 20 minutes of stirring, my batter had thickened somewhat but was still much more runny than desired.  And because of the whole-grain spelt flour, it’s color actually got darker – more like a rich brown.  All was lost I thought.  I should have stuck with the original butter/white flour mixture.

But I forged ahead and poured the batter over the dates.  After the pie cooled I cut into a piece, releasing the toppings’ fragrant mix of flavors: cinnamon, cardamom, pistachios, and a hint of coconut.  And then, the first bite: the crunch of walnuts, and the soft chewiness of dates.  The girls tried a piece, and burst into an impromptu dance.  Still, the dough topping was not holding shape as I would have liked it to.  Dismayed, I wrapped it up and put it in the fridge.

When I took it out the next  morning – Hurrah! – the batter was no longer loose.  It had taken shape.  Accidental success!  I only should have cut it into squares the night before.  The pieces can crumble easily, so presentation-wise it is best to cut it before putting it in the fridge.

Also, a note on cinnamon.  It is a spice I use quite often in both savory and sweet dishes.  Which is why I was so intrigued to find out from the lovely Shiva Rose about it’s different varieties, and it’s effects on our health.

As for the this will cure you effects of a Date and Walnut Pie?  Even if all of the above mentioned ingredients don’t produce the sought after results,  maybe sometimes all we need to bring back the sexy is a mere suggestion. A hint of a dessert with “magical” powers, or a giggle over the possibility.  All while sharing a bite or two of Date and Walnut Pie.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

DATE AND WALNUT PIE

Inspired by S. joon

Ingredients:

Serves 8

1 cup walnuts broken in half or coarsely chopped
30 dates approximately or enough to fill a pie plate
1 cup coconut oil (or 1 cup butter or ghee)*
2 cups whole grain spelt flour (or 1 1/2 cups all- purpose flour)*
2 tablespoons maple syrup
1/2 teaspoon cardamom
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 cup ground or finely chopped unsalted pistachios
shredded unsweetened coconut (optional) for garnish

  1. Arrange dates tightly next to each other  in a 9-inch pie plate or similar size serving dish.  Determine how many dates  you’ll need.  Cut a small slit vertically in each date to take the pit out.
  2. Toast the walnuts in a large pan over medium heat.  Roughly 5 minutes.  Allow the walnuts to cool.
  3. In a small bowl combine the cinnamon and cardamom.
  4. Fill each date with a walnut half.  And place in the pie plate.
  5.  Melt the coconut oil over medium heat. You can use the same pan used to toast the walnuts.  Add the flour, stirring constantly.  The batter will start to turn into a dark rich brown and thicken.  About 15-20 minutes.  Keep an eye and a nose on it.  You don’t want the flour to start burning.
    * If using the butter/all-purpose flour batter look for it to change to a caramel like consistency and color.  About 15 minutes.
  6. Pour the hot batter over the dates.  Packing it down and making sure the surface is smooth with the back of your spoon.  No lumps on the top.
  7. Drizzle the maple syrup evenly over the hot batter.
  8. Sprinkle the cinnamon/cardamom mix evenly over the hot batter.  It will soak right into the batter.
  9. Sprinkle the pistachios over the top.  Sprinkle as much shredded coconut as you like on top of the pistachios.  Set aside and allow to cool.  About 1 hour.
  10. Once cool cut in small squares.  Place in the fridge for at least 2 hours or overnight.
    * If using the butter/all-purpose flour batter you can serve once the pie has cooled.
  11. Once the batter has set in the fridge arrange squares on a serving dish or serve right out of the pie plate.

Will keep in the fridge for up to 3 days.

by Naz

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