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Clinging to Freddie Mercury and a Pot of Rice – Zereshk Polo – Barberries and Rice

Zereshk – barberries – like memories – first need to be sorted through.  Scatter them on a plate as you would dried legumes, and with a discerning eye pick out the older, shriveled and darker looking ones.  Hang on to the bright crimson ones.  Occasionally you might come across a small stone, pebble, or something of the sort.  Give those the boot as well.  While you’re at it remove the little stems too.  Sometimes I skip this step.  Like other things in life it all depends on my patience level, and the all-too-demanding tick-tock of the clock.

It’s 1977, maybe 1978.  When you are very young the magnitude of every hour, day and month is never lost on you. You proudly announce your age by year, month, day, even minute.  Making sure no one mistakes the six-year-old you for the much younger five-and-a-half-year-old you. When later in life you look through the long lens of memory, the years meld into one.  And now you refrain from any unnecessary age announcements.

Next give the zereshk a bath.  Even on lazy days follow through with this step.  Place them in a bowl and fill with cold water.  Let them sit and soak for about 15 minutes. Observe as the ruby red jewels re-hydrate, plump up and rise to the top as all the sand settles to the bottom. Best to leave the dirt and detritus behind.  In life and cookery.  Reach in and gently lift up the barberries (you can use your hands or a very small mesh colander for this) without disturbing the sand that has settled on the bottom. Place the barberries in a small colander, give a quick rinse and set aside to drain.

My older brother Ramin and I take our positions at either end of the carpet adorning the family room floor.  A recurring game of koshti – wrestling face-off between siblings.  The sizzle of the onions hitting the hot butter catches me off-guard and within a few seconds the heady aroma of onions melting and caramelizing sneaks out of the kitchen. Winding its path beyond the piano (a constant reminder to practice), and stops short at the large living room windows.  There it lingers in awe of the first snowfall of the season settling on the window sills. Just in time for Yalda night  – the winter solstice. Overnight Tehran will be covered in a peaceful blanket of white. Hypnotized and distracted by the scents and sounds my eyes scan past Ramin, who is ready to charge, and fall upon our mother in the kitchen, rhythmically lifting the tart, jewel-like zereshk in and out of the bowl. I overhear our parents’ conversation. Like the onions, it sizzles and softens, casually weaving in and out of earshot. There’s talk of a possible trip to the mountains to enjoy the first snowfall. There’s also murmurs of unrest on the streets.  With a yek-doh-seh my brother and I charge at each other.  I give it all my little body has to give.  He lets me win.  He always lets me win.  A typical weekend.  It’s Tehran.  But it could be anywhere.

Caramelizing onions is a test in time, patience and heat control.  But where there is great effort, there is also great reward.  Most of the time.  When preparing Zereshk Polo I like to caramelize the onions in butter for a silkier, nuttier, and of course tastier, finish.  Start at a higher temperature and stir often.  At this point you’ll need to use all senses to determine when to turn down the heat.  Listen to the sizzle, stick your nose in there, and keep a close eye on those onions.  Play with your heat source and don’t get discouraged – it takes time.  Ultimately, after about 40 minutes the onions will shrink,  sweeten and turn into a sticky rich shade of brown – caramel like.  Some pieces turn darker and crunchier than others.  Add the barberries to the caramelized onion at the very end.  Barberries can burn very quickly so they only need a quick sauté, no more than 3-5 minutes.

It’s 1980, maybe 1981.  Snowfall in Rome is rare, but then again the past year or so has been anything but ordinary.  The murmurs of unrest turned into demonstrations, which turned into revolution, which turned into blackouts, sirens and bombs.   All that and so much more is now behind you.  What’s ahead is unknown, uncertain, unnerving.  But when you are young all that matters is what’s in front of you.  And on this particular day it’s a few flakes of snow ushering in a new season and gently dusting the eternal city.

Gently simmering chicken in its own juices and saffron is one of the simplest and most satisfying dishes ever.  Even if you don’t scatter the chicken pieces in between the rice and barberries for the Zereshk Polo make this chicken and serve it with a side of plain rice, or roasted potatoes or scoop up with a warm piece of bread, like lavash or sangak.  I like to use skinless, boneless chicken (except for drumsticks that are on the bone).  If you prefer you can use thighs on the bone, with the skin on.  Just make sure to remove the skin before adding it to the rice.

Ramin instructs me to take my place at the other end of the living room, which also serves as the entrance, the family room, the dining room and my bedroom.  There’s no space to charge at one other. I’m told to just stand, listen, and have my life as I knew it altered forever.  My brother is now a full-fledged teenager and this is how teens speak.  As I wait for further instructions I glimpse Baba anxiously flip through the newspaper.

“Anything?” Maman asks.

Anything about all that was left behind.  Everyone that was left behind.  Anything about what lies ahead.

Anything.  Anything. Anything.

I hear the trepidation in her voice but I watch as her hand remains steady as she meticulously scatters the barberries, and the saffron chicken in between the rice.  With the future unknown all we can do is take charge of what is in front us.  She calls out that she’s put aside a few chicken pieces for us to snack on.  I especially like to gnaw on the drumsticks.  My brother declares the ubiquitous yek-doh-seh. He reaches over to the black cassette player and presses play.

Life alters.

Just like Sabzi Polo, I prefer to make Zereshk Polo by layering the barberries, onions, and chicken in between layers of par-boiled rice and then steaming it all.  The barberries will bleed their crimson hue into the rice in this process so I like to set aside a couple of spatulas full of the barberries and onions to scatter over the entire dish when serving. Allowing the gems to shine.  You can always also make a pot of rice and add the chicken and barberries to it when serving.  But I find the rice absorbing the flavors and juices of the saffron chicken and onion/barberries mix to be essential in this dish.  It’s also the only way I was able convert my six-year-old into a Zereshk Polo lover.

It’s 1983, maybe 1984.  The unknown presented itself in the shape and form of Canada and you adapted.  That’s what happens when you’re young – you adapt. To the rain. To the lush green maple trees and brown squirrels.

To the questions, the assumptions, and presumptions.

Ramin tells me to sit down.  I do as I’m told.  It is apparent he has important information to share with me.  As I take a seat I watch Baba set the table.  Ramin tells me to focus and listen closely to what he is about to tell me.  I try to focus but am instantly distracted by the cloud of steam rising from behind him.  Maman lifts the towel covered lid to the rice pot and instantly the windows fog over.  For a brief moment I spy flakes of snow descending down on our rainy town of Vancouver.  A moment to be celebrated. The steam carries with it the scent of Iranian rice, ruby red barberries and saffron chicken.  The scent of home – wherever that may be.  The very scent that has enamored my newly made Canadian friends with our food and in return with us.  I quickly look back to Ramin and lock eyes with him, giving him all my attention.  The scent of Zereshk Polo circles us both. I close my eyes.  It’s Tehran, it’s Rome, it’s Vancouver.  There is a comfort, a safety in it all.

“Freddie Mercury is Persian” declares my brother with pride.

I open my eyes.  He smiles.  I smile back.  The scent of the rice and Ramin’s revelation have us both drunk with hope.  They are gifts.  Gifts to deflect all the mind-boggling questions, assumptions, presumptions and misunderstood notions of who we are and where we came from with the appropriation of a genuine rock star – a rock god – and a steaming pot of rice jeweled with tart, crimson berries.

It’s 2015, soon to be 2016.  Snow flakes are a fairy tale mystery in Los Angeles, as are drops of rain these days.  Turns out Freddie Mercury isn’t Persian.  It didn’t take us long to figure this out.  But it doesn’t matter.  He was Persian for us when we most needed him to be.  And after all these years I find myself once again reaching for Freddie and an unmistakable fragrant pot of Iranian rice.  To explain it all.

The questions, assumptions, and presumptions.

Everything and anything.

Anything.  Anything.  Anything.

Wishing you all a light filled, healthy and peaceful Shabeh Yalda – Winter Solstice 2015.  Please also enjoy these posts for Yalda night from fellow Persian food bloggers around the globe:

My Persian Kitchen, Family Spice  Lab Noon , Fae’s Twist & Tango , Honest & Tasty, My Caldron , Parisa’s Kitchen

ZERESHK POLO – BARBERRIES AND RICE

Notes:

  • For a more detailed guide to cooking Persian rice please see this post.
  • My preferred basmati rice at the moment is Royal Chef’s Choice. I purchase mine from my local Iranian market.
  • You can purchase dried barberries (zereshk) at Middle Eastern stores or online.  I have written more about zereshk here.
  • I add a very small amount of sugar to the barberries here to balance out their tartness.  I prefer them on the tart side.  Feel free to add as much sugar as you like.  But take note this is not meant to be a sweet dish!
  • The great thing about this dish is that the caramelized onion and the saffron chicken can be made ahead of time. I don’t like to add the barberries ahead because they can dry out.

Ingredients:

Serves 6-8

2 cups dried barberries (zereshk)
3 cups white basmati rice, washed and soaked in 2 cups cold water with 3 tablespoons  salt for at least 1 hour
2 large onions
6 tablespoons butter, divided
3 tablespoons olive oil
5 skinless chicken drumsticks
4 boneless/skinless chicken thighs
1/4 teaspoon ground saffron steeped in 2 tablespoons hot water, plus a small pinch
1 tablespoon sugar (optional)
salt
pepper

Scatter the barberries on a plate and look through.  Discard any older, shriveled, darker looking ones. Discard any small stones or pebbles.  If you have the time take the little stems off the barberries too.  Transfer the barberries to a small bowl and cover with cold water. Soak for 15 minutes. Lift the barberries out of the bowl with your hand or using a small mesh colander.  Taking carel not to disturb any of the sand and dirt that’s settled on the bottom.  Give a rinse and set aside to drain.

Finely slice 1 1/2 onions for caramelizing.  Slice the remaining half and set aside for the chicken.  In a medium pan melt 3 tablespoons butter over medium heat.  Add the onions you had set aside for caramelizing.  Turn up the heat to medium-high and saute for 10 minutes, stirring often. Turn down the heat to medium-low, sprinkle with a pinch of salt and caramelize, about 30 minutes.  Keep an eye on them.  Listen to the sizzle.  Stir often.  Play with your heat source.  Turn it up slightly if necessary and turn it back down if they look like they might be burning.  Ultimately, they will shrink to half their volume and take on a rich, silky caramel shade.  Add the barberries and sugar in the final 3-5 minutes.  Stir to incorporate, take off the heat and set aside.  In a separate small bowl set aside a couple of spatulas of this mixture to garnish the finished dish.

Wile the onions caramelize cook the chicken.  Heat the olive oil over medium heat in a large pot. Scatter the onions put aside for the chicken in one layer on top of the oil. Place the chicken on top of the onion, add 2 teaspoons salt, 1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper and pour the saffron water over the whole thing.  Make sure you get every last drop of saffron water.  Swirl more water into the glass to get it all out.  This is precious stuff! Give everything a stir. Cover and bring to a gentle boil.  Turn down the heat to low and simmer for 40 minutes.  Until the chicken is tender and cooked through.  When the chicken is done tear into pieces, discarding any bones and skin and set back in its juices. Set aside.

In a large pot bring 14 cups water and 1/4 cup kosher salt to a boil. Drain the rice and add to the pot. Stir ONE TIME very gently.  Return to a boil and keep a close eye on it.  Skim off any foam.  Test your rice after 4-6 minutes until the rice is al-dente.  Once al-dente drain the rice (I usually drain the rice at the 4-5 minute mark) and give a quick gentle rinse under cold tap water.  Drain the rice completely.

In a large non-stick pot melt 3 tablespoons butter over low heat.  Make sure the melted butter covers the entire surface of your pot and along the sides.  If not add more butter or 1 tablespoon olive oil accordingly.  Add a pinch of saffron and swirl around.  With a spatula add enough rice to fully cover the bottom of the pot. Using the back of the spatula or the back of a wooden spoon pack down the rice firmly. Add another layer of rice, then a layer of barberries, then another layer of rice, then a layer of chicken. Repeat, alternating layers in a pyramid shape. Your top layer should be a rice layer. Gently pour the juices from the chicken over the whole thing. Using the handle of a wooden spoon poke a couple of holes in the rice to allow the steam to escape.  Cover and turn up the heat to medium/high.  Cook for 10 minutes.  Don’t go anywhere!  The tahdig can burn very quickly.

Turn down the heat to medium.  Lift the lid and cover with a clean kitchen towel or a couple of layers of paper towel.  Place the lid firmly back on the pot and cook for 10 minutes.  Turn the heat down to low.  Place a heat diffuser (if using) under the pot and cook for 40 minutes.

When the rice is done gently lift the lid (without any condensation dripping back into the pot) and set aside. With a spatula gently scatter the rice mixture on a serving platter.  Make sure you don’t disturb the tahdig at the bottom of the pot.  Garnish the top with the reserved barberries mixture.  Gently scoop out the tahdig and serve on the side.

Enjoy with a side of mast-o khiar and sabzi khordan.  Listening to Queen while enjoying this dish is optional but recommended!

by Naz
Uncategorized

Shio Koji – A Round Kitchen

Dear friends, I am truly humbled to be included as a finalist in the 2015 IACP Digital Media Awards for Best Narrative Culinary Blog.  What a great privilege and honor to be recognized amongst such amazing, talented individuals.  Thank you all from the bottom of my heart (and pot!) for all your kind words, support and encouragement.  It means the world to me.  Go Tahdig!

♪ MUSIC WE’RE COOKING TO ♪

We have a globe. Of the light-up variety. Of the round variety.

Because the world is round, Mama.  It’s the truth, Mama.

It’s the kind the girls love to spin and spin, and then randomly bring to a sudden stop.  Mother Earth graciously, patiently, holding still as their little fingers gently but methodically trace a path through her every field and valley, across mountain ranges and tundra, seas, lakes and oceans. All in a matter of seconds.

As fast as the speed, Mama.

It’s called the speed of light, Luna.

Is that faster than the speed of infinity, Mama?

Explorers on an expedition. Little fingers claiming birth places, lived-in places, want-to-visit places, random, exotic, mysterious places.  When you are five and eight years old, the globe holds an immeasurable, magical sense of mystery and respect.

As it should.

For us all.

Whether your globe lights up or not.

Shio koji literally translates to sea salt and koji. Koji is rice or soybeans that has been inoculated with a culture called Aspergillus oryzae.  The same culture/mold can be found in soy sauce, miso and sake.  The popularity of shio koji exploded in Japan about five years ago. But it is deeply rooted in the Japanese traditions of food and fermentation that are thousands of years old. And it has happily found its way into my kitchen.

I have my Japanese step-mother Kumi to thank for introducing me not only to this flavorful ingredient, but to the many beauties and majesties of Japanese culture.

Shio koji.

Little fingers search and search but are unable to trace its history back through the rice fields of Gilan.

No verses of poetry to compare it to zaferan, talayeh sorkheh Khorasan – the prized flaming, golden saffron from Khorasan.

No documented mentions of world-wise and travel-weary merchants along the silk road expounding on its powers of umami as they whetted their palates on the cha’i from Laheejan. As they bit into the chewy, fragrant, and sweet gaz from Esfahan, nesfeh jahan. Half the world, in Esfahan.

To prepare shio koji, rice koji, sea salt, and water are combined and left to ferment for about seven days. After fermentation the shio koji is stored in the fridge and used as a salt replacement in various sauces, vinaigrettes, dressing for vegetables, and particularly delicious when used in marinades.  Kumi uses her shio koji in just about everything – like adding a small amount to her morning oatmeal.

Shio koji delivers an incredible umami punch in the same way that anchovies, tomato paste and kashk do.  And since it is a fermented food you can benefit from its naturally occurring pro-biotics.  Shio koji can be purchased already prepared in a paste form from Japanese supermarkets (I have not seen it yet at any other markets – please leave a comment below if you have) or online.  But it is very simple and much less costly to prepare at home.  And preparing it at home satisfies my appreciation for the simplicity, and magical mystery of fermentation.

I follow Kumi’s instructions when making shio koji.  You need rice koji, fine grain sea salt (I’ve been emphatically told it has to be sea salt – no table salt please!), a jar, and time to ferment.  Rice koji can be found online, and here, and at Japanese grocery stores.

Kumi has given me the measurements by metric weight as it is most accurate, so I highly recommend using a scale when measuring out the ingredients.  The measurements below are for a 1 liter glass jar.  You can also easily halve this recipe.  Any left over rice koji can be stored in the freezer for up to 6 months.

Place 400 grams rice koji in a bowl.

Break up any clumped up pieces of rice.

Add anywhere between 140-160 grams of fine grain sea salt to the rice.

Combine the sea salt and the rice koji by kneading the two ingredients by hand for about 5 minutes. During this process the rice koji and sea salt will start to come together. As you knead, you should be able to form a clump in your hands like loose pie dough coming together. During this process you should also be able to smell a slight malty aroma, similar to soy sauce.

Using a spoon, transfer the rice koji/sea salt to a sterilized 1 liter glass jar and add 500ml water.  Make sure there is enough water to fully cover the surface of the koji.

Place the cap on the jar and store at room temperature to ferment for 7-10 days.  The length of fermentation depends on room temperature.  It is important to stir the shio koji once a day by lifting the rice up and over from the bottom of the jar. This method of stirring allows for oxygen to circulate.  By days 7-10 the rice granules should be softened and there should be a distinct fermented and malty aroma.  This is how you know the shio koji is ready and has reached full flavor.  You can taste the shio koji.  The rice granules should have softened.  It might taste rather salty but don’t panic; this will temper over time.  At this point you can place the shio koji in a food processor and process to a smooth paste.  Kumi doesn’t process her shio koji, but I sometimes prefer it smooth.  Store the shio koji in the fridge and use as needed. It will keep in the fridge for up to 6 months.

Generally, when using shio koji as a salt substitute you can use 2 teaspoons of shio koji for 1 teaspoon of salt. When using as a marinade the general rule of thumb is the ratio 10:1. For every 100 grams of food use 10 grams of shio koji.  Also, take note that shio koji can burn at very high temperatures.  So stick to moderate heat.

“Nana korobi ya oki”  “Fall Down Seven Times, Stand Up Eight.”  Japanese proverb.
Little fingers traced and searched but couldn’t find the bridge connecting the shio koji to their mother’s birth place.

Alas, all well mapped out and thought through expeditions must eventually come to an end.

Make their way back home.

For rest.  For provisions.  For a hug.

And just like that little fingers lift off the globe, bid Mother Earth adieu with a dizzying final spin, and fly towards the kitchen. Crashing into the arms, warmth and comforts of their Mama. Recounting harrowing tales of their journeys.

Simultaneously.

At the speed of infinity.

All the while keeping a close eye on their Mama as she reaches in the fridge for Grandma Kumi’s shio koji with one hand while stretching her other arm towards the spice cupboard for the zaferan, talayeh sorkheh Khorasan.

A bridge.  A path.  A connection.

What’s for dinner, Mama?

A most umami packed, golden roast chicken.

* All Japanese tea ceremony photos are courtesy of Ramin Deravian copyright 2015

SHIO KOJI

You can easily halve this recipe if you want to make less shio koji.

Ingredients:

400 grams rice koji
140-160 grams fine grain sea salt
500 ml water

1- Place rice koji in a medium bowl.  Break up any clumps of rice with fingers.  Add salt.  Combine salt and  rice koji by kneading together by hand.  Knead for about 5 minutes until it starts to come together in your hands like loose pie dough.  Spoon into a sterilized 1 liter glass jar.  Add water to completely cover.  Place cap on jar and allow to ferment at room temperature for 7-1o days.  It is very important to stir the shio koji once a day as it ferments.  Stir with a clean spoon by lifting the koji from the bottom of the jar up and over.  By days 7-10 the rice should have softened and there should be a distinct malty fermented smell.  You can taste the shio koji to test.  Once it has fully fermented you can place in a food processor and process into a paste.  Spoon the shio koji paste back into the jar and store in the fridge.  Use as needed. Shio koji will keep in the fridge for up to 6 months.

by Naz
Uncategorized

Homemade Kashk

I find the concept of an “acquired taste” a very interesting one.  Exactly when and how does one “acquire taste”?

Growing up in Vancouver, whenever kashk was supposed to be used in a dish my mom would replace it with either yogurt or sour cream –  if we were feeding our Canadian or American friends.  Kharejeeha- foreigners (said Canadians or Americans being the “foreigners” in this case) don’t like the taste of kashk, it’s an acquired taste is what we would always hear.  So substitutions were made.  But as a child I always felt kharejeeha were missing out.  What was not to like about this tangy – flavorful – creamy – dip-like – yogurt-like – ingredient.

Thanks to the advent of technology and globalization the world has become a smaller place – and simultaneously our palates have expanded and “acquired” a liking and curiosity for foods from all different parts of the globe.  Kimchi, miso, harissa, za’atar – foods and spices that were once deemed ethnic or exotic are now as common place as mayo and ketchup – well, almost.  So it is in this spirit of world food and expanded curious palates that I present you with Kashk.  I think kharejeeha are more than ready and willing to give it try and fall in love with it.

Of course I am not the first to praise the deliciousness that is kashk.  As I mentioned in this post Mr. Ottolenghi has been talking up kashk for some time now. Think of kashk as an added creamy-like ingredient that really adds a depth of flavor to soups, aash (thick Persian soups-recipe coming next)- dips – stews – eggs…Use it as you might use creme fraiche in a savory dish.  Kashk plays the same role as anchovies, tomato paste, and parmesan rind do to add depth of flavor to any given food.  To give it that extra kick of deliciousness.

In a nutshell, kashk is fermented yogurt.  I recently tried my hand at making homemade kashk.  Yogurt is mixed with equal parts water and simmered for a couple of hours until all the liquid has evaporated and you are left with a loose pulp.

The dry pulp is then placed in a blender with some fresh water and salt.  Finally blend until you have a creamy consistency.

The pulp is then placed in a cheesecloth (I found using my nut milk bag worked great) and you squeeze as hard as you can to get rid of every last bit of the yellowish liquid (discard the liquid).  You want the pulp to be as dry as possible.

I like to divide the kashk into small containers and either use right away or freeze until needed.  Although it takes a couple of hours to simmer the yogurt, the active prep time in making kashk is minimal.  Of course, you can also purchase kashk from Persian grocery stores.  If you purchase the dried kind you will have to reconstitute it with water.  I recommend using the refrigerated liquid kind.  You may have to try a few different brands to find the best tasting one (of course nothing is like homemade kashk).  You can also purchase kashk here , here, and here.

And please do let me know if you “acquire” a taste for kashk.

HOMEMADE KASHK

Update:  01/04/15 Hi everyone! I realized that I did not previously specify the type of salt I use when making kashk.  Which can make a big difference in the taste.  I use fine grain sea salt.  I had written to use 1 tablespoon salt.  However, I now think you should start with 1/2 tablespoon sea salt (a little more if you are using kosher salt)  and increase to taste as needed.  If by any chance you find your kashk is too salty just decrease the amount of salt in the dish you will be using the kashk in.  The amount of salt in the recipe below now reflects this change. Enjoy!

Makes about 2 cups kashk

Ingredients:

2 32oz containers of full fat sour (European style) plain yogurt  (I use this kind)
water
sea salt

1- Place the yogurt from both containers in a large pot over medium heat.  Fill the empty containers up with water and add to the yogurt. Stir and bring to a gentle boil.  Turn down the heat slightly and let the mixture simmer for about 2 1/2 hours or until all the water evaporates and you are left with a pulp like ingredient.  Stir once in a while to make sure nothing is sticking to the bottom of your pot or burning.  Through this process the yogurt will separate and break down.  This is normal.  The color of the yogurt will also turn from creamy white to a pale beige.  There will also be a distinct tart smell.

2- Place the contents of the pot in a nut milk bag or 2 layers of cheese cloth and set over a large bowl.  Squeeze out as much liquid as you possibly can.  You want the pulp to be as dry as possible.  Discard the liquid.

3- Place the pulp in a blender and add 1 cup filtered water and 1/2 tablespoon salt.  Blend until you have a creamy consistency.  Add more water if necessary to thin it out.  Taste and add more salt as needed.  I usually end up using a little under 1 tablespoon salt total.

Divide kashk and place in small containers.  Ice cube tray works great too.  Will keep in the fridge for up to 3 days and the freezer for up to 3 months.

by Naz
Stew Uncategorized

A Music Education and a Pomegranate and Walnut Stew – Khoresh Fesenjan

George Michael and Andrew Ridgely.  They dreamily look deep into my soul – unearthing every little secret and thought as I flop on my bed – chin resting on hands looking even  deeper into their souls – the intensity of my stare almost burning a hole in the album cover – held inches from my nose.  I fancy myself Andrew’s best bud and the next Mrs. George Michael.

Well – we all know how that all turned out.  But that’s what you do when you’re twelve and a mad fan of Wham!.

Losing myself in a selfie slow-dance to the heartbreak that is Careless Whisper – and always ending with a big finale of me forgiving George (this one time) for his cheating ways – a radically different sound pounds through my bedroom floor knocking me off my feet and leaving the Careless Whisper sax solo whimpering in the dust.  My brother’s music.

Hands on hips, an I-mean-business glare in my eyes, and ready to confront the injustice that has been assailed upon me and George (the same look I now spot in Soleil to much hilarity) – I storm down the stairs ready to unleash all my pre-teen angst on my older brother.  But halfway down I stop, and the fumes rising out of me slowly fizzle out.  For days afterward I sneak halfway down to the basement, take a seat on the stairs and listen to this sound that is planets away from anything I have heard before.  But you can sneak around secretly enjoying your older brother’s music for only so long before you’re caught.

He doesn’t tell me to take a hike, or embarrass me, or make me feel like a silly little WHAM!-loving twelve-year-old that I am.  Instead he invites me in – passionately sharing with me this new world of music.  Excitedly he rattles off facts – stories – one thought quickly leading to another – faster than I can keep up – as is his way to this day.  We listen through his entire record collection – the MOD/PUNK/”alternative music”/SKA canon. The Jam – Dead Kennedys – The Cramps – Madness – The Specials – Bahaus – The Smiths – Style Council – The Clash – The Stranglers – Talking Heads – The Who – Velvet Underground….

Weekends become about trips downtown to Odyssey Imports on Granville Street (before Granville Street became the tourist hub that it is now) to check out the latest import releases out of the UK.  When there was a distinct rivalry between the music coming from the UK vs the US.  When the freshly mohawked punk rockers had claimed the front entrance to Eatons as theirs and theirs alone.  All frightening and exhilarating at the same time for my pre-teen eyes.

Those early years in Vancouver, after a day spent record shopping, Saturday nights were also synonymous with a dinner party at our family friends house – the K’s.  Where we would all gather seeking comfort in the company of other families – expats – having gone through similar travels, similar adversities.

New immigrants to a new land.

Where you could be guaranteed plenty of dancing and plenty of Mrs. K’s mouth-watering Khoresh Fesenjan – Pomegrante Walnut Stew.

Food in general demands our respect.  Khoresh Fesenjan commands our respect.  The respect of time and patience.  The respect of slowly and lovingly allowing a much celebrated stew of walnuts and pomegranate molasses simmer quietly away for a few hours on your stove on a Sunday afternoon.  Warming up your home with its tantalizing aromas – transporting you to a faraway land –  a faraway orchard – or – simply as my mother puts it – allowing all the flavors come to life.

Sweet or Sour – Pomegranate Molasses
Contrary to popular belief Khoresh Fesenjan is quite simple to prepare.  At its simplest preparation it is nothing more than ground up walnuts, pomegranate molasses, water, chicken (or vegetable of choice), salt to taste.  That’s all you need.  But for a little added depth of flavor you can enhance with some extra spices. I like to use a little bit of turmeric, ground up dried rose petals and cinnamon. However, this simple yet sumptuous dish is often quite polarizing as to how it should be prepared.  This divisiveness comes down to a personal preference for what type of pomegranate molasses to use.  Sweet or sour or something in between – sweet and sour.  It is not uncommon for people to get quite particular and passionate about this preference.  You know you are talking about quite a special dish when there is so much passion and intensity surrounding it. I like and prepare my Fesenjan sour – the way Mrs. K and my mom prepare it – the way it is prepared in Gilan – Shomal – the Northern region of Iran bordering the Caspian sea  – known for its Khoresh Fesenjan.  Now, by sour I don’t mean a mouth-puckering taste that makes you wince.  It only means that there is no sugar or other type of sweetener added to the stew.  It is a subtle and satisfying tartness which is dictated by the kind of pomegranate molasses that is used.  I use this pomegranate molasses which says sour on it.  If you are new to Khoresh Fesenjan I recommend trying different kinds of pomegranate molasses and see what suits your palate best.

Walnuts
There is also a debate as to how fine the walnuts in the stew should be ground up.  Again, this comes down to a personal preference.  Some like the texture of a rougher grind, where you can feel the crunch of the walnut in the stew.  I prefer my Fesenjan smooth so I grind up the walnuts to a fine meal, or even to a paste. You’re looking for a grind resembling a flour like texture or smoother. The walnut meal is then mixed with some water and added to the pomegranate paste in the pot.

Simmer, Simmer and Simmer Some More
There is one thing about the preparation of this stew that is not up for debate.  And that is allowing the pomegranate/walnut sauce to sit and simmer slowly for at least a couple of hours before adding your meat or vegetable.  No quick fixes here.  The color, depth of flavor and richness of this dish depend on this step.  Just like any good stew or braise, this is your chance to bring the flavors to life.  Specifically to bring the walnuts to life .  As the stew simmers, the walnuts will slowly start to release their natural oils.  The more the walnuts release their oils the more they will come out of their raw state and the color of the stew will start turning from a very pale cappuccino shade to a rich brown .  That is what we are looking for.  The walnuts can make this dish a very rich and hearty dish, so you want to skim off as much of those oils that come to the surface as possible to cut down on some of that richness.  Also we don’t want a raw walnut aftertaste in the stew which can often be rather bitter. As the stew sits and simmers uncovered it will start thickening so you want to keep adding about half a cup of water to it every half hour or so.  This process should take about 2 hours.  You will know the sauce is ready when its color has turned to a rich brown, when most of the walnut oil has been released and when it is at the desired consistency: not too thick and not too watered down.  At this point you should taste the sauce and make any necessary adjustments like adding more pomegranate molasses if necessary.  This is also where I add the cinnamon and ground rose petals, if using.  The sauce can be made ahead of time up to this point and kept in the fridge before adding the chicken.  If I am pressed for time or preparing for a dinner party  I usually make the sauce one day ahead.

Duck, Chicken or Vegetables
Traditionally, Khoresh Fesenjan was served with a whole duck placed in the sauce and cooked through.  It has now become more common to make Fesenjan with chicken – whole or cut up into pieces – which is how I like to prepare it. Some preparations also use mini meatballs which cook through in the sauce.  You can also make a vegetarian version with eggplant or mushrooms or various types of squash.  It goes without saying that Fesenjan, or Fesenjoon as it is more colloquially called, should be enjoyed over rice.  This dish is also a perfect example of the Persian tradition of balancing a meal. A rich and satisfying stew like Fesenjan should always be accompanied with something fresh, raw and crisp to aid in digestion.

We are a culture obsessed with digestion.

So you will most definitely find Sabzi Khordan – a platter of fresh herbs and radishes (I love using watermelon radishes when available) at the table along with a bowl of crisp, fresh turnips as is tradition in Gilan and at Mrs. K’s house.

Those Saturday nights at Mrs. K’s, after a feast of Fesenjan, Baghali Ghatogh, Mirza Ghasemi and smoked fish – following the obligatory after-dinner tray of tea and dates (for digestion of course) was passed around – after the platter of fruit (for digestion, of course) was served – after the dancing and clapping (also for digestion, of course) – my best friend S. and her older sister M. and I would watch my brother, their older brother B. and another good friend F. go through their ritual of getting ready for a night out.

It almost always involved excessive amounts of hair gel.

I secretly longed to one day tag along, be a part of that world.  But until then I was quite content with George upstairs in my room and the new world order I was experiencing downstairs in my brother’s room.  Clinging to my childhood but on the threshold of crossing over to something new, exciting and nerve-racking: the teenage years.

That’s what happens when you’re twelve.

On the cusp of when his music, becomes our music – my music.

Dedicated to the memory of Farzad and Sepideh.

WALNUT AND POMEGRANATE STEW – KHORESH FESENJAN

Inspired by Mrs. K. and Maman

Ingredients:

Serves 6 – 8

1 lb/450 grams shelled walnuts, ground up to a fine meal
water
3/4 cup sour pomegranate molasses, or pomegranate molasses of choice
1/2 teaspoon turmeric
salt
1/2 teaspoon cinammon
*1/8 teaspoon ground dried rose petals (optional but highly recommended)
2 1/2 – 3 lbs. skinless, boneless chicken pieces, I use 2 breasts/2 drumsticks/4 thighs
pomegranate seeds, for garnish (optional)
pepper

* You can grind up dried rose petals in a spice grinder.  You can buy dried rose petals at Middle Eastern markets or here or here for organic ones.

1- In a medium size bowl mix the ground up walnut meal with 3 cups room temperature water.

2- Heat a large dutch oven style pot over medium heat.  Add the pomegranate molasses, 1 teaspoon salt and turmeric and stir to combine.  Keep a close eye on it. As soon as the molasses starts to bubble and come to a gentle boil add the walnut/water mixture.  Stir and allow to gently boil for about 5 minutes.  Turn the heat down to low and gently simmer the sauce uncovered.

3- You will be simmering the sauce uncovered for the next 2 hours or so. Add about 1/2 cup of water every half hour or so.  You will know it’s time to add more water as the sauce starts to thicken and the walnut oil starts to rise to the top.  Make sure you stir once in a while making sure nothing is sticking to the bottom of the pot and your sauce isn’t burning at the bottom.  Skim off any oils that come to the surface.  The color of the sauce will start turning from a pale beige to a rich brown throughout this process.  Once the sauce is ready add the cinnamon and ground up rose petals.  Taste and make adjustments.  I usually add another 1/4 cup of pomegranate molasses.  Hold off on adding more salt because the chicken will be seasoned with salt.  The sauce can be made ahead of time up to this point.  Or carry on right to the next step.

4- Cut up the chicken breasts and thighs into medium sized pieces.  I cut the thighs in half and the chicken breasts into 3 or 4 pieces.  Season the chicken with salt and pepper.  Add the chicken to the sauce and simmer for 45 minutes – 1 hour until the chicken is cooked through (if the stew starts thinning out turn up the heat slightly, just make sure you are stirring so nothing sticks or burns).  I prefer the stew on the thinner side than the thicker side.  Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary.

Serve over rice and garnish with pomegranate seeds if you like.  Enjoy with a side of Sabzi Khordan and/or raw turnips for digestion of course!

Will keep in the fridge for up to 3 days and in the freezer for up to 3 months.

by Naz
Uncategorized

AN EGGPLANT DIP WITH KASHK AND THE TALE OF A LEATHER JACKET – KASHKI BADEMJAN


♪ Music we’re cooking to ♪

Mama, today at school – at lunch time – I dipped my carrots in the hummus.  When my carrots finished I dipped the apples.  When the apples finished – it was…(dramatic pause) FINGERS TIME! – Soleil

Have you heard?  The motorcycle jacket is back.  A fashion magazine told me so.  So it must be true.  It was a couple of months ago though – so it’s probably old news by now. But still – it begs the age-old fashion question: if you wore it the first time around (or more like in its second or third incarnation) can you still pull it off? 


9:00 pm – the kids are tucked in bed.  Drew and I – operating on automatic – clock out and shuffle into the decompression chamber – aka the office. No words are exchanged.  We retreat to our respective posts.  Me – in front of the computer.  He – at his bass guitar – providing my nightly soundtrack. He’s rehearsing for the upcoming school event.  A band made up of slightly aged, musically inclined parents along with fresh-faced school faculty. His agile fingers work through the familiar chords.  Elvis Costello, early years REM, Pete Townshend (like I said slightly aged parents). And just like that – my eyes glaze over – once again hypnotized and transported to another time and place by those few simple chords.  I stand, slowly, but with purpose.  Hypnosis has fully set in.  I walk over to the closet.  My arms stretch in to reach the very deep dark back.  I know it’s there.  My hands fumble over other garments now packed away; just in case: what if I’m invited to a formal ball (vintage cape – mine), what if I hike Mt. Everest (Taiga – his), what if we get hit by a major snow storm in L.A. (parkas – ours).  I know it’s there – what’s so funny – I’m on my toes – about peace – reaching deeper – love – I know it’s there – and – reach – understanding – there it is.  Sturdy, smooth, zippers in all the right places,  with that oh-so-familiar and comforting smell of worn-in  leather. My motorcycle jacket.  

Hello, old friend.

For an entire year I worked after schools and all summer long to save up for this jacket. And the events of the day when I bought it were just as momentous as the purchase itself.  My Aunt Dixie had taken me to a leather goods bazaar somewhere in downtown Manhattan. I was visiting New York City for the very first time.  The trip that sealed my everlasting love affair with that city.  It was the late 80’s and I was in my early teens.  Life was exciting and full of promise, the music that accompanied the need for the jacket pounded with anarchy and rebellion.  And fashion was…a black motorcycle jacket to go along with the other big ticket item that drained a teenager’s life savings – Fluevogs. 

Ceremoniously I take the jacket off the hanger, and with a sense of ease and familiarity, slip it on.  Just like I had done every fall and winter (and sometimes even in the warmer months) all those years before it got finally stored away in the solitary confinement of the closet. The heavy weight of the jacket rests comfortably on my not-so-broad shoulders; the warm embrace of a long-lost companion.  The safety pin I had attached to the broken front zipper dangles back and forth, setting me deeper into my hypnotic state.  

Rainy and grey Vancouver skies, musty and crowded bus rides, high school, first love, first heartbreak, countless concerts, night clubs, university, warm breezy nights playing billiards and making haughty and broad proclamations about Joyce, Beckett and Shepard as only twenty-year-olds can, artistic endeavors, achievements and disappointments, travel across borders, a new life, palm trees and sunny skies, shiny blue Buicks and meeting the love that currently serenades me nightly.  This jacket has borne witness to my story and could probably tell it better than I can. Up until roughly 1997 that is.

Kashki Bademjan is an eggplant dip that I guarantee will give baba ganoush a run for its money.  Its ingredients and preparation are quite simple. First, you roast the eggplant in the oven and then finish cooking it off on the stove with a little water, sauteed onions and maybe a sprinkle of turmeric and saffron.  But it’s the finishing garnishes that really give this dish its maximum flavor impact and make it dangerously addictive and delicious. I recommend using Japanese eggplants since they have thinner skins and I find them to be more flavorful.  Japanese eggplants also have less seeds so they are not as bitter as other varieties. Because of their thinner skin I don’t peel them; but if you do use any other type make sure you peel the skin.  Traditionally the eggplant for Kashki Bademjan is first fried in a pan. I’m not a big fan of frying anything.  Not only for health reasons but also because I can’t stand all the oil spattering everywhere and the mess.  So I like to roast the eggplant first in the oven for about 20 minutes or so.  The result is just as fantastic as frying them.  Kashki Bademjan is served warm with bread as an appetizer/ dip or can be served alongside the main meal as a side dish.  And of course, if you run out of bread there is always (dramatic pause) FINGERS TIME!

Caramelized onion, mint and garlic – naana dagh/piaz dadgh/seer dagh – is a garnish used quite frequently in many Persian dishes.  You can always prepare a large batch of caramelized onion, mint and garlic ahead of time and store it in the freezer for future use.  You can use it on soups, other dips like hummus or even on burgers.  Patience is the secret ingredient in well caramelized (not burnt) onions and garlic.  It takes about 30 mins but it is well worth it to draw out the natural sweetness from both the onions and the garlic.  You can caramelize the onion and garlic separately or together.  Dried mint is also added to the caramelized onion and garlic but only at the very end so that it doesn’t burn.



The last thing that is mixed in to the eggplant dip is a creamy slightly tart ingredient. This can be in the form of strained (Greek) yogurt, sour cream, or even creme fraiche.  (I haven’t tried it with creme fraiche yet but I think it would be great.  If you do please let me know!  And personally I’m not a fan of sour cream.)  But traditionally it is an ingredient called kashk.  Hence the name of the dish – kashki bademjan – which literally means kashk and eggplant.  Kashk is often referred to as whey – but it is not whey.  It is fermented yogurt.  And it can either be found in a liquid or dried form.  If you use the dried form you have to add water to it to reconstitute it.  I practically jumped off my chair when I came across this article about kashk.  It is so exciting to see all these spices and ingredients that were such a part of my everyday meals as a child become so popular now.  Sumaq, turmeric, saffron, cardamom, rose water and now kashk.  You know kashk has made it if Mr. Ottolenghi is talking about it!  Kashk is typically used to add a depth of flavor and creamy consistency to soups (like a variety of aash – thick soups), dips such as kashki bademjan or even to everyday scrambled eggs.  For non-Persians kashk could be considered an acquired taste.  When making this dip my mom will often substitute strained yogurt for kashk if she is serving non-Persians.  But I urge you all to try this “umami flavor” (Mr. Ottolenghi’s words).  Just start with small amounts.  And for the record I’m still trying to figure out exactly what umami is.  I’m going to go with – deliciousness.  Kashk can be found in Middle Eastern grocery stores.  I recommend using the liquid variety as it is less work than the dried kind.  I recently tried my hand at homemade kashk (pictured at the top of this post). More to come on that later.

      

I slip my hands in the front pockets of my motorcycle jacket.  Before my fingers are fully immersed I anticipate and instinctually reach for the soft cottonball-like sensation of the torn-up lining – the holes in both pockets so wide and deep they reach halfway around the bottom of the jacket.  There is a comfort in these rips and tears. These pockets that for so many years kept my hands warm.  As I dig deeper I pull out various artifacts of a time long past – paper clips, torn up pieces of paper, old bus transfers.  I look at the date and times on the bus transfers and try to imagine where I was, where I was going, whom I was meeting.  I put everything back in the pockets.  I don’t have the heart to throw them out. These scraps have now become one with the jacket.  This is where they belong.  Before taking the jacket off I pop open the smallest pocket that is fastened with a button.  Keep in mind motorcycle jackets have many pockets.  I don’t expect to find anything there. Without much thought my fingers reach in and I pull out – ahem – an unmentionable.  My mouth drops open and I stand there aghast.  Drew looks up from his bass and stares stunned at me.  Our eyes meet and we break into uncontrollable laughter.  The hypnosis is broken. I take off my jacket – quite un-ceremoniously.  It gets hung back up.  The motorcycle jacket might be back in vogue – but this motorcycle jacket’s days have come and gone.  That is until my girls decide to break it out, dust it off and breathe new life and stories into it.

And for the record I own an identical white motorcycle jacket too.


EGGPLANT DIP WITH KASHK – KASHKI BADEMJAN

Serves 8-10 as an appetizer or as a side dish

Ingeredients

5 medium Japanese eggpant
1/3 cup olive oil, plus 2 tablespoons
1 medium yellow onion, peeled and sliced
3 cloves garlic, peeled and roughly chopped
1/4 teaspoon turmeric
1/8 teaspoon ground saffron (optional)
salt, to taste
pepper, to taste
water, roughly 1/2 cup
kashk OR strained yogurt OR creme fraiche, to taste
caramelized onion and garlic (recipe below)
walnuts, roughly chopped (optional)
saffron water (optional)

Preheat the oven at 400 degrees F.

1- Wash the eggplant well and cut off the tops.  Cut the eggplants in half lengthwise.  Carefully score the eggplant on the flesh side in a cross-hatched pattern.  Be careful not pierce through the skin. Place the eggplant halves flesh side up on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper.  Cover each eggplant half with the olive oil. You can use a brush or your fingers.  You will probably need to use all of the 1/3 cup of oil.  Eggplant absorbs a lot of oil.  Liberally sprinkle each half with salt.  Roast the eggplant in the oven for 20-25 minutes.  Until the eggplant has softened and browned.  Once you place the eggplant in the oven you can simultaneously start caramelizing the onion and garlic (recipe below).

2- Heat 2 table spoons of olive oil in a large pan over medium heat.  Add the sliced onion, sprinkle with a little salt and saute until the onion softens and is translucent stirring to make sure the onion doesn’t burn or stick. About 10 minutes.  

3- Add the garlic and and saute for another 10-15 minutes.  Until the garlic softens. Turn down the heat if necessary.

4- Add the roasted eggplant to the the onion and garlic mixture.  Add about 1/2 cup water, to barely cover the whole mixture.  Make sure it’s not too watery.  Start with less water and add more if necessary.  Add the turmeric and salt and pepper to taste ( I added about 1/4 teaspoon salt) and sprinkle in the ground saffron if using.  Bring the whole thing up to a gentle boil and turn the heat down to medium and allow to simmer for 10 minutes uncovered until the water has been absorbed and all the flavors have melded.  Stirring occasionally.

5- Turn off the heat.  Mash the eggplant mixture with a fork or place in a food processor and pulse a few times.  Place mixture back in the pan. 

6- One tablespoon at a time stir in the kashk, strained yogurt or creme fraiche.  Taste and add more to taste.  I used about 3 tablespoons kashk, OR 2 tablespoons strained yogurt.  Adjust seasoning to taste and garnish with about 1 tablespoon of the caramelized onion, mint and garlic.  Add chopped walnuts on top if using.  You can also drizzle on a little saffron water for added color.

Serve warm or at room temperature with some bread.

Will keep in the fridge for up to 3 days or in the freezer for up to 3 months.

CARAMELIZED ONION, MINT AND GARLIC – NAANA DAGH, PIAZ DAGH, SEER DAGH

makes about 1/2 cup

Ingredients

1 large yellow onion, finely chopped
5 large cloves garlic, finely chopped
1/2 cup olive oil or oil of choice 
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoon turmeric
3 tablespoons dried mint

1- Heat the oil in a medium pan over medium-high heat.  Add the onion and saute for about 6-8 minutes.  Stirring continuously so the onion doesn’t burn.

2- Turn down the heat to medium-low and add the salt and garlic.  Saute for about 25 minutes. Stirring often until the onion and garlic are nicely caramelized (not burnt!).  Turn down the heat if needed.  In the last few minutes add the turmeric and stir.

3- Turn the heat off and add the mint.  Stir to incorporate. 

Serve warm as a garnish over kashki bademjan or other dips such as hummus or on top of soups and aashes.

Use as much as desired and save the rest in the fridge for up to 3 days or in the freezer for up to 3 months.
 
 

 

   

by Naz
Uncategorized

JARRING TOMATOES – CALABRESE STYLE – PART 2

Continued from Part 1

Before continuing my conversation with Teresa about her family’s annual tomato jarring tradition, I’d like to thank all the families involved in this years pomodori event and for sharing the ins and outs of this amazing tradition.  Thank you to the families Tiano, Marelli, Mercuriano, Novia, Cipollone, Corbo, Ferrara and Deravian.  And to my brother Ramin for the great photos (stills!).  Grazie mille a tutti.

Can you walk us through the jarring process?

Try to buy ripe but firm tomatoes.  Once you get the tomatoes home you need to take them out of the bushels.  They need to be sorted in case there are any rotten ones (if they stay in the bushel the rot will spread).
  
The tomatoes need to be laid out on a large flat dry surface in a single layer.  We normally use three or four large folding tables.  The tomatoes need to ripen because the riper they are the more sauce they will yield. This process can take anywhere from 4-10 days depending on how ripe the tomatoes were when you purchased them. 

You need to ensure that the mason jars are sterilized .  Lids need to be sterilized as well and you need to be sure there are no dents, dirt or rust on them (if they are being reused).

The sauce can be made indoors or outdoors.  My family makes it outdoors.  We usually make it at my sister’s house using the space in the garage (thoroughly cleaned) and her driveway.

SUPPLIES: (based on making 4 bushels or 96 kilos which should yield approximately 55-60 jars; enough for one year for one family if you use 1 jar per week)

jars – 15 per bushel of tomatoes, with lids
extra large wooden spoon/spatulas (2 or 3)
extra large colanders with long handles (there are specially designed ones)
stainless steel heavy duty pots (42 litre size minimum)
4-6 clean plastic buckets (large size)
electric tomato squeezer machine
burners (my family has two going)
propane gas tanks
access to cold water
clean bushels (at least 4)
cheese cloths (large 4)
long aluminum skewers (2)
ladle
medium cooking pot (everyday pot is fine) 
canning jar funnel
oven heat-resistant glove

STEPS:  Day of tomato sauce making.

REMEMBER: STEPS 2-10 ARE DONE SIMULTANEOUSLY IN AN ASSEMBLY LINE LIKE FASHION AND EACH STEP REQUIRES A MINIMUM OF TWO PEOPLE.

1. Assemble your electric tomato squeezer machine on a table and have 1 clean plastic bucket or pot placed below it where the puree comes out, a medium aluminum roasting pan beneath the nozzle where the skin and seeds come out and another bucket to pour the seeds and skin into.  Place your bushels over large pots or buckets. 

2.  Tomatoes need to be washed thoroughly, to do this put as many tomatoes  as can fit into your buckets and wash thoroughly with cold water (see pictures in Part 1).  Drain the dirty water.  Fill your stainless steel pots about 2/3 with water so that all tomatoes are submerged.

3.  Place the pots on burners, turn the fire on and bring the water to a full boil.  Let tomatoes cook for about 20 minutes, stirring regularly to ensure they do not stick to the bottom of the pot.

4.  Place cheesecloth in bushel (cover bottom and sides) and carefully pour cooked tomatoes into bushel.  Poke the cooked tomatoes with skewers to allow excess juice to be strained through cheesecloth (approximately 10-15 minutes).

5.  Once the excess juice has been strained, it has to be pureed through the electric tomato squeezer.  This portion usually requires three people; one person to continuously place tomatoes into funnel part of machine, one person to operate the machine and one person to constantly clean the nozzle so that it doesn’t clog up and to ensure the skins go into the pan and then into the bucket. Once the bucket has been filled place it aside.

6.  You may choose to repeat Step 5 one more time using the skins and seeds.  This depends on how thick the puree is initially.


7.  Once you have pureed your cooked tomatoes you pour the puree into the large pot.  2-3 inches from the top.

8.  The pot needs to be placed on the burner and brought to a full boil, stirring regularly.

9.  Remove tomato squeezer machine from the workspace.  Wipe it down.  Make sure clean empty jars are placed on workspace.  Snap lids need to be heated (sterilized) so place them in a medium pot and immerse in boiling water and heat for a few minutes.

10.  Once the tomato puree comes to a full boil it has to cook at that heat for 20-25 minutes, being stirred constantly. 

11.  Begin filling your jars.  This process takes about 3-5 people.  One person to continue stirring the puree on the heat.  One to fill the jars using a ladle.  One to place heated snap lids with rims and clean the jars if excess puree has spilled over.  One person to make sure the rims are securely tightened (make sure this person is wearing heat resistant gloves) and one to place the filled jars into boxes.

12.  You will hear a popping sound either immediately or throughout the cooling down period.  This sound ensures that the jars have been properly sealed. 

13.  Boxes of jars need to be stored in a dry dark place.  The sauce needs to cool down for 2-3 days.  It’s then ready to use.  The jars will keep for at least a year.

Please note:  Teresa tells me since they double boil their sauce they do not put the jars in a hot water bath process.  Nor do they add any lemon juice or citric acid to their tomato sauce.  However if you choose to do so for extra assurance against spoilage there are plenty of resources available to give you exact amounts on the lemon juice/citric acid addition and how long to immerse your jars in the hot water bath (depending on where you live).

I am so inspired to make and jar our own tomato sauce/puree.  With summer now long gone and fall in full swing (thankfully we had our first LA rainfall today) this gives me a few months to gather my supplies and recruit interested parties.  Wanna sign up? 

All photos in this story courtesy of Ramin Deravian copyright 2013









by Naz
Uncategorized

JARRING TOMATOES – CALABRESE STYLE – PART 1

Some cultural traditions (habits?) are very hard to break.  Food as a souvenir is one that stands out in my family.  Whenever my parents come to visit from Vancouver they pack their suitcases with barbari bread (it came out of the oven this morning – I told the baker I was visiting my daughter and grandchildren so he threw in a few extra…) pistachios, toot (fresh mulberries), feta cheese, the saffron Mrs. So-And-So just brought back from Iran, cinnamon, tea, etc.  Keep in mind that I live in Los Angeles – aka Tehrangeles. All of these things are readily available here. But somehow – this food stowed away in those suitcases, and then eagerly pulled out by the girls in search of goodies for themselves – tastes better than anything I could purchase at my local Persian market. (Those suitcases don’t go back empty either – Trader Joe’s has yet to open in Canada.)


The very first time my lovely sister-in-law Teresa and my brother Ramin visited us  (she was his girlfriend at the time), I knew she was the perfect match for my brother and that she would fit in seamlessly in our family. Within minutes of arriving at our house she zipped open her suitcase and pulled out the most beautiful jar of homemade pure tomato sauce which had survived the trip from Toronto just fine.  It also helped that she could fit right in and not be baffled by our loud and passionate kitchen table conversations, comedic hand gesticulations, and of course our passion and love of food.  She is Italian after all – Calabrese – from Calabria to be precise.  Which also qualifies my Roman-born brother for some good-natured teasing!

Teresa and her family jar tomatoes annually in Toronto.  It is an event I have wanted to be a part of but have been unable to find the time.  They can’t say exactly when it will happen since they are at the mercy of the tomatoes.  Which makes purchasing a plane ticket difficult.  So this year I asked Teresa if she could virtually walk us through this amazing family tradition.  I also asked my professional photographer brother if he could take some pictures.  And in typical Ramin fashion he couldn’t just snap a few photos – he had to make a film instead.  But we’ll have to wait for the film as the maestro is busy with other non-pomodori-related projects.  In its place, we have some stills from the said film.  

Here is Part 1 of my conversation with Teresa:

How long ago did you start your tomato-jarring tradition?
As far back as I can remember, I think my parents and aunts and uncles brought the tradition over from Italy. 

How and why did it start?
As the tradition started from Italy, I believe that my parents’ generation wanted to maintain it.  Also, it was economical and time-saving to have enough sauce for an entire year (and sometimes longer).

Who gets involved?  How many people does it take?
Well, it definitely is a team project.  How many people you need will depend on how many bushels of tomatoes you have.  Usually we make for three or four families.  But at the very least you need 3-4 people on the day you actually set aside to make the sauce.

What kind of tomatoes do you use?  How many kilos of tomatoes do you use?
We use organic Roma tomatoes.  The amount of tomatoes varies per year.  This year we made for four families and bought 14 bushels which is about 336 kilos.

Do you buy from a certain grower or farm?  Do you change every year?
We have bought our tomatoes from an organic farmer for the past twenty years.  It is a local Ontario farmer.
 


Do you use the hot water bath canning process?
When I was really young I remember my mom and aunts using the hot water bath canning process but it has been a long time since we have done it that way.

How many jars do you produce?
This year we produced 165 1-litre jars.

What do you typically use the jarred tomatoes for?  
We make a tomato puree, so it is mainly used for anything you would use tomato sauce for.  Pizza, pasta etc.  You can make chopped tomato, but my family has not done that for at least 15 years.

Do you see the younger generation, your nieces and nephews, carrying on this tradition?
If you had asked that question a few years ago, I would have said no.  But in the past couple of years my niece and nephew who are in their twenties have participated at different times throughout the process, which surprised me and makes very proud that they want to help.

Anything else you would like to share?
This tradition has evolved and changed over the years but the basic elements are still there.  It is a wonderful way to pay homage to our parents.  You also have incredible tasting and completely natural and organic tomato sauce to feed your family; and for me it is a day spent with family and friends, working but having fun at the same time.  I am so glad we still choose to do it. 

I’ve been toying around with the idea of jarring/canning/putting up our own tomatoes for some time now.  I guess I need to start looking for and recruiting some like-minded tomato sauce consumers to join me.  What do you think?  Would you be up for it?  Join me and Teresa and her whole family for Part 2 where Teresa will walk us through the actual jarring process…And tell me, do you travel with suitcases full of food?

All photos in this story courtesy of Ramin Deravian copyright 2013
    

  

           

by Naz
Side Dish Uncategorized

Pesto – A Birth and Book Club – Beautiful Ruins

♪ Music we’re cooking to ♪

My water broke at 7:30am.  By 8:00am we were busy putting away all the food Drew had planned to prepare that night for Book Club – The Life of Pi.

It was a bright, clear and sunny Sunday morning in 2006.  Los Angeles never looked more beautiful.  Massive, in-your-face billboards, boulevards vast and desolate, cracked sidewalks and all. The freeways were clear.  For once.  So many months we had run through this scenario, talked through it – talked through it some more,  rehearsed the drive to the hospital.  And now here it was. The arrival of our first born was imminent.

Luna – Luna – Luna.

On the way to the hospital we made all the appropriate phone calls to family members. Then we made all the appropriate phone calls to fellow Book Club members.  In one adrenaline-infused breath I revealed our news and apologized for having to cancel Book Club.  But we’ll reschedule as soon as possible!, I kept repeating on various voicemails.  Hey, what if we had Book Club at the hospital? –  I wondered out loud.  No really – I think it could work – I insisted to a very anxious father-to-be – Drew.

All this before the first nurse at the hospital stuck the happy – to sad – to very much in agony face chart in front of my face and asked me to point to the facial expression representing the time I would like drugs administered.  I pointed to the happiest face.  Seriously – why wait?

All this before the medical residents that looked like they had stepped right off of the set of Grey’s Anatomy kept checking down below to see how much I had dilated.

All this before they stuck the very large needle in my back and Drew had to look away and take deep breaths because he is prone to fainting spells. (At Soleil’s birth they had to get the paper bag out for him – as they were sticking the needle in MY back – all the nurses rushed to HIS aid to keep him from fainting.)

All this before my beloved Dr. K and Nurse “House” (affectionately nicknamed by us after the TV show Dr. because of her tough love approach) played good cop/bad cop to get me to work harder to get this new life out.  I always appreciated my Dr’s  clear, firm, realistic demeanor.  Works for me.

All this…before that-one-forever-life-altering-moment.  When the comets collide – when the world stops and simultaneously the earth spins faster than proven possible and your heart as you once knew it no longer beats just for you.  Your heart is no longer yours.  She holds your heart now in her shriveled – been through a heck of a journey – newborn hands. You look to your partner – the only other person that understands this arresting seige of the heart – and in unison you both say “whoa”.

Luna – Luna – Luna.

She arrives on Book Club Sunday.

We recetly celebrated 11 years of Book Club. There’s six of us total – girls and boys. The past 11 years of Book Club have seen us through 60 books, just as many delicious accompanying meals, marriages, births (we just recently welcomed a new addition to our Book Club family – Keith and Heather’s baby L.) loss of loved ones, professional successes and heartbreaks, politics, presidents, but most importantly friendship; life-long friendship.  And of course, a love of books and good food.  Our motto is “because we read” (most of the time). At this point the only way to get invited in is through blood or marriage (it’s hard enough to work around six schedules) or if you are the author of the book as was the case with The Drifts.  What a pleasure it was to have the amazing Thom Vernon at our BC dining table. We take turns picking a book. Whoever has picked the book hosts and makes a meal that relates to the book.  It could be a dish that is specifically mentioned in the book or it could be a dish inspired by the setting of the book.  Plenty of room to get creative.  And it is always fun to try and guess what will be served as you read the book.

It was my turn to host last Book Club – the magical and glorious Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walter.  It could not have been a better choice for a summer (or any other time of the year) Book Club gathering.  And it should be noted that we all highly recommend it.  One of the settings of the story takes place circa 1962 Italy.  Perfection.  Right up my alley.  The Cinque Terre – Italian Riviera – Liguria.  Pesto.

Pesto comes from Genoa, the capital city of the Liguria region of Italy  and is therefore referred to as Pesto Genoese.  It is a simple and delicious sauce made from a handful of fresh ingredients: fragrant and lush basil, garlic, a mix of Parmesan and pecorino romano cheese, pine nuts and olive oil.  Traditionally, pesto (which derives from the Italian word pestare – to pound or crush)  is made with a mortar and pestle.  Since my mortar and pestle is not big enough and I like to make my pesto in large batches (it freezes so well – makes a great last minute potluck dish), I turn to my modern-day mortar and pestle – the mighty food processor.  Depending on my mood and what I have available in my fridge and pantry, I might stick to the traditional basil and pine nut combination, or venture off and play around with other green herbs and nuts.  I encourage you to try out any combination of greens like parsley, cilantro, spinach, arugula, kale (with heartier greens like kale it is best to give it a quick hot water blanche and then squeeze out all the excess water so it blends up easier in your food processor) and nuts like almonds, walnuts etc.  Occasionally I  add some extra flavors like salty anchovies that I first pound to a paste with the garlic in my mortar pestle (don’t worry you won’t taste the anchovies), and a squeeze of a lemon to brighten up all the flavors. (Truth be told, I seem to add lemon to everything.) For a slightly creamier quality you can also try adding some goat cheese, butter or mascarpone cheese.  The one thing I will not compromise on when making pesto is the freshness and quality of ingredients.  Which is why I prefer to grate my own parmesan cheese.  It really does make a difference and it can be done quite simply by cutting off the rind and throwing chunks in the food processor. A few quick pulses later you have freshly-grated parmesan.  And remember, that rind can be frozen and used up later in a soup or stew.  Marcella Hazan dictates that “a well rounded pesto is  never  made with all Paremsan or all pecorino”.  I shamefully lower my head and admit that I do make my pesto with all Parmesan if I don’t have any pecorino on hand.

Pesto can be enjoyed over pasta, gnocchi or as a spread for a sandwich. It can be drizzled over soups as a garnish or spread on your favorite cut of grilled meat, chicken or fish.  When serving with pasta, remember to put aside a little bit of the pasta water before you drain the pasta to thin out your pesto to the desired consistency.  And please – for the love of everything that is delicious and good and right in the world  – SALT that pasta water.  This goes for anytime you are making pasta.  I don’t mean delicately shaking your salt shaker over the pot – I mean SALT it as if it’s SEA WATER.  Don’t question.  Just do it.

I still think we could have hosted Book Club at the hospital.  Friends and family gathered to celebrate a new book but more importantly a new lover of books.  Each of us taking turns holding her in that crook in our arm that seems to be especially made for this.

If you would like to virtually keep up with our Book Club – the book we are currently reading is The Curiosity by Stephen P. Kiernan.

Beautiful Ruins Book Club Menu:

Antipasti
Caprese salad, fresh figs, olives, marinated artichoke, prosciutto.

Primi
Pesto Genoese with spaghetti

Secondi
Fish soup was the only specific meal mentioned in this book so I made a Ciuppin.  Something similar to this.

Insalata
Shaved fennel and zucchini salad.

Dolci
Granita di Caffe con Panna inspired by this post.  Thank you Deb for bringing back all the wonderful memories of Rome.

PESTO GENOESE

Makes about 2 cups

Ingredients

2 tablespoons pine nuts, lightly toasted  (toasting is optional)
2 full bunches basil (roughly 4 oz), about 2 1/2 cups basil leaves tightly packed
2 anchovies (optional)
1 large garlic clove, peeled and crushed
3 tablespoons juice of a lemon
1/2 cup parmesan
1 – 2 tablespoons pecorino romano, if available
1 tablespoon goat cheese (optional)
1/2 teaspoon salt (hold off on the salt if using anchovies, once blended add salt as needed or to taste)
freshly ground pepper to taste
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil plus more if needed

1- Lightly toast the pine nuts in a skillet on medium-low heat until they release their fragrance.  Set aside and cool.

2- If using anchovies pound them with the garlic in a mortar and pestle until you have a paste.  If not using anchovies you can add the garlic directly to the food processor.

3- Put all the ingredients except for the olive oil in the food processor.  Blend and with the machine running slowly drizzle in the olive oil until everything is blended.  Stop to scrape down the sides if necessary.

4- Adjust all seasoning to taste.  Add more olive oil if necessary.

Use immediately or portion off and store in containers in the fridge or freezer.  If placing in containers top off with a little olive oil to maintain freshness and green hue.  I use roughly 1 cup of pesto per 1 pound of pasta.  Do not heat up your pesto!  If frozen allow to thaw and then use.  Remember to thin out with pasta water if necessary.

Will keep in the fridge for up to 1 day and in the freezer for up to 3 months.

Enjoy!

by Naz
Uncategorized

HOMEMADE YOGURT AND STRAINED (GREEK STYLE) YOGURT – A RAINY PARISIAN AFTERNOON

♪ MUSIC WE’RE COOKING TO ♪

Mama, how about Dada and Soleil go to Spain or somewhere.

How come, Luna?  

Then you and I can go to Paris.  You know, Soleil will be all tired and grumpy and whiny and everything else a 3 and a 1/2 year old is like.

It’s supposed to rain the first time you visit Paris.

I read that somewhere – or someone said that – at some point – somewhere.

It was raining – well, more like a very light summer sprinkle – as my train pulled into Gare de Lyon.  The last two weeks of the obligatory European backpacking trip to be spent in the city of light.  My first time in Paris – but a return of sorts back to Europe.  My first two weeks were spent in a dream, walking the streets of Rome – as only a nineteen year old can. A few more Italian and French cities and towns thrown in between. With a backpack far too big and heavy for my not so large frame  (possible culprit to the chronic lower back pain that has plagued me all these years?!) – the bright red Canadian maple leaf sewn nice and tight onto its blue nylon – lest us quiet Canadians be mistaken for our slightly louder neighbors to the south.  With no ticket back home – having lost it somewhere between Venice and Nice – back in the days when you traveled with a paper ticket.  And without a care in the world.  I was in Paris – it was raining – and Billie Holiday was crooning on my walkman – welcoming me to this city we all dream of visiting one day.  All was right in this teenager’s world.

Cut to a few days ago – leaning one hip into the stove – giving that lower back a rest –  absentmindedly stirring the milk for our weekly batch of homemade yogurt – when this voice came crashing through the speakers, and instantly transported me back to that rainy afternoon in Paris.

I wasn’t planning on writing about homemade yogurt – but after declaring my love and devotion to yogurt here – many friends have asked how they too could make their own yogurt.  We are a household that consumes a lot of yogurt on a weekly basis – so it only seemed like the next natural step for us to start making our own.  It is more economical (those Greek Style yogurts don’t come cheap) – we are doing our little bit to cut back on making more waste by not purchasing new plastic yogurt containers every week to only hope that the city will actually recycle them – we can be in control of exactly what we are consuming by choosing the highest quality milk we want to use – it is a step in the right direction of revisiting our cooking roots, as Michael Pollan is so convincingly urging us to do in his new book Cooked – and well – it is really easy to make homemade yogurt.

Only 2 ingredients are needed to make great homemade yogurt. 1- Good quality organic  whole milk yogurt (you cannot use fat free or 1% – it won’t work!) I use Straus Family Creamery milk.  Besides being of great quality, we like that you can return their glass milk bottles for a deposit back, AND they will re-use those bottles.  2- Culture – a small container of store bought yogurt,  good quality organic whole milk.  That’s it.  Then you just allow the natural biology of fermentation do its thing.

No special equipment necessary either – except for a non-reactive CLEAN (we’re fermenting here) heavy-bottomed stainless steel pot, CLEAN glass jars to store the yogurt, and a candy thermometer.  To this day my mom refuses to use a thermometer.  Instead relying on the time-tested pinky finger temperature control method: “bring the milk to just under a boil, cool milk down, you’ll know it’s at the right temperature by sticking your pinky finger in the milk and be able to hold it there for about 20 seconds.”  To spare you from scalding your pinky we will rely on the other trustworthy temperature reader: an actual thermometer.  

Sometimes an ordinary moment is transformed into an extraordinary one when you least expect it.  Like a typical afternoon spent making yogurt, and the next thing you know a single voice/song reaches so deep within you, grabs you by the waist and hurls you back to a rainy train station.  But this time as you relish the sweet memories of the past you don’t linger there too long.  You are busy planning your next Parisian trip.  And this time you can’t wait to experience the city of light through the eyes of your 6 and a 1/2 year old AND your 3 and a 1/2 year old.

Unless said 3 and a 1/2 year old really wants to go to Spain instead.

Was it raining the first time you visited Paris?

HOMEMADE YOGURT

Note: I use 1 gallon of milk which makes about 10-12 cups of yogurt – roughly about 2 to 3 32oz containers.  We use a lot of yogurt in our house.  Feel free to use as much milk as you like depending on your family’s needs.  Also, the consistency of homemade yogurt is slightly different from store bought yogurt.  It might be a little thinner.  There are many variables when making yogurt (fermenting) so every batch is a little different. 

Ingredients:

Makes about 6 cups of yogurt

1/2 gallon good quality organic whole milk yogurt
about 4 dollops (tablespoons) of good quality  organic store bought whole milk yogurt (this will be your culture)

1- Turn on your oven light.  DO NOT TURN ON THE OVEN ITSELF.

2- Pour milk in a large stainless steel pot, place thermometer in pot.  Heat milk over medium heat stirring occasionally so you don’t have any milk sticking to the bottom of the pot.  Heat milk to 180F degrees.

3- Turn off the heat and allow milk to cool down to 115F degrees. It usually takes my batch about 45 minutes to cool down.  Don’t forget about your milk!  Keep checking that thermometer.  Or give the pinky finger method a try.  Just remember how your yogurt turns out is temperature sensitive.  

4- Once milk has cooled down to 115F degrees drop in about 4 dollops of store bought yogurt in different corners of the pot.  You don’t need to stir.  Cover pot with a tight fitting lid.  Place pot in the oven with the oven light on.  Close oven door.  Leave pot in the oven (with oven light on) overnight or about 12 hours.

5- In the morning remove pot from the oven.  You should have delicious homemade yogurt.  Pour off excess yellowish liquid (whey).  Allow yogurt to come to room temperature.  Transfer to glass containers and place in fridge.  Will keep in fridge for up to 10 days.

STRAINED (GREEK STYLE) YOGURT

1- Place a fine mesh strainer over a tall container to catch liquid from the yogurt.  The bottom of the strainer should not come into contact with collected liquid (whey).

2- Line 2 overlapping paper towels or a cheese cloth over strainer.  Pour yogurt over paper towels or cheese cloth.  Fold over the corners of the paper towels or cheesecloth to completely cover the yogurt.  Place a small plate over the yogurt and put a heavy can over the plate for weight.  

3-  Place everything in the fridge and let stand any where between 1 hour to several hours depending on how thick you like your yogurt.  Allow liquid (whey) from the yogurt to drip into the bowl.  

  
4- Place strained yogurt in a glass container.  Will keep in the fridge for up to 10 days.

You may discard the whey that collects in the bowl.  But we like to keep it in a glass jar in the fridge.  We use a couple of spoonfuls of whey in smoothies, soups, sauces, or to soak our grains and oatmeal in overnight.  Whey is extremely beneficial and nutritious.  

 

by Naz
Uncategorized

Our Haft Seen Table

Nowruz celebrations last for thirteen days.  During this time families and friends visit each other and homes are always ready to greet well wishers with hot tea and sweets.  It all culminates on the thirteenth day – seezdah bedar –  with a big picnic outdoors.

We have had a wonderful Nowruz surrounded by good friends and family.  Our Haft Seen table will stay up for a few more days – although the sweets and mixed nuts dishes  are quite depleted.  Little fingers always find their way to the Haft Seen table…

by Naz

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