Setting up the Fig & Quince table

#25. The Fig & Quince table manned by a super-duper pair

I was too busy to be a good blogger but I did take a few pictures. My favorite is of the smiley adorable young volunteers! (These girls and all the children I met spoke zaban’eh shirin ‘eh Farsi which gladdened my itty bitty heart.)

Bita’arof : a magazine for Iranian culture & arts. A great find! (thanks Azita M!)

I’m rather proud of what my mother and I accomplished in a very short time (with a good bit of moral and actual support from my father – including his integral stint as a sohan ‘e assal sous-chef.)  I have to say that we were studious, we were organized, we were enthusiastically energized, and we were delighted to take part in the Children of Persia’s 9th Annual Walk event. There were many favorite moments, but the highlights of the day were seeing dear & cherished family friends , and meeting some really nice people and making new friends.

I wish I could write more (lots & lots to say) but alas there are more deadline crocodiles to be wrestled with (dammit, let’s hope I survive) and sweet sweet sleep beckons as well. I do want to give a shout-out to my wonderful blogging community for your amazing support.  Thank you & I love you! Wish you all could have been there.  And: I hope to catch up with your blogs soooooon!  Until then, I leave you with this image of a still life with black grapes:

Still life: by my brother. Black grapes: by nature.

There is a Kundalini yoga meditation mantra I like a lot, which goes like this: Ong Namu, Guru Dev Namo. I believe it means: “I bow before my highest consciousness.”

Alas, it’s been years since I have had a regular yoga practice (and it was Vinyassa at that) but I have a New Age album (Grace, by Snatum Kaur) of Kundalini mantras — set to music and sung along with their (too liberally perhaps?) translations — on my iTunes playlist that I play a lot. Would it be an oxymoron to say that listening to these songs gives me a jolt of serenity? It helps immediately to create a grounding, grateful, peaceful sensation in my entire being – even if sirens are blaring and cars are beeping or if I’m feeling dejected or crummy for one reason or another. May the Long time Sun (traditionally played at the end of Kundalini yoga sessions) is one of my favorites, it gives me goosebumps and sometimes makes me cry (in a good way) and I hope it’s not disrespectful, but I love to cardio to Hari Har – the music and tempo the mantra is set to just makes me want to MOVE! As for Ong Namu, I’ve listened to it nearly a thousand times according to my iTunes tally, and I know what it means, but I often mishear the “Breath of Life, I Bow to You” chant, as: “Bread of Life, I Bow to You.”

But … then again, bread is the staff of life. A great advantage of breathing, indeed one may say, is that it signals the ability to eat bread.

Isn’t this loaf of bread beautiful? It is the handiwork of my brother-in-law. (Speaking of my shohar-khahar, he says that the best thing about marrying into an Iranian family is the tadig! I’m not sure if he’s entirely joking, and I think he’s forgetting something very important, he’s forgetting the polo khoresh!) There are many good things I can say about my brother-in-law. For one, he displayed exceptionally good taste in marrying my beautiful sister – and together they make very good and beautiful things. For another, he’s an exceedingly good-humored fellow. I immensely admire him for this quality – one that I covet and hope to cultivate myself. For one other, he really knows his way around pancakes, popovers, tarts, and even crêpes; and when humming along in the kitchen, he is one of those people who just visibly enjoys and exudes his relish of cooking. It is fun to watch and to be around. I’ve been treated to some very delicious fare at my sis and brother-in-law’s – both are gracious hosts and good and creative cooks – and vividly recall the occasion when my bro-in-law made this no-knead bread for a family brunch.  It was served with olive oil (I ate it with butter though instead, I’m pedestrian that way,) whipped honey, and also with this type of egg:

I don’t know about the quail eggs … hmmm … but the bread … it was: delicious! Warm! Soft at just the right places! Crusty where it mattered! And the perfect vessel to combine butter (or olive oil for those who care for that) and honey and taste buds!

No-Knead Bread is a creation of Jim Lahey of the New York City Sullivan Street Bakery, and it is a much-praised and very popular recipe. No wonder! It lives up to the hype. If you want to make a loaf of your own, look no further than the original no-knead bread recipe (or check out the slightly adapted recipe as featured in the New York Times.)

Meanwhile: Have a lovely weekend! May you break bread with those you love, and:

“May the longtime sun

shine upon you

all love surround you

and the pure light

within you

guide your way home”

…

You know how ballerinas are known to have horribly disfigured feet? Corns, blisters, calluses, deformed toes — feet battered by the practice of an ethereal art that is also a punishingly rigorous sport.

Running a blog on a regular basis is a little like being a ballerina. All you want to display to the world is a beautiful, expressive dance, seemingly effortless, and yet, there are those mangled feet tucked inside the pretty ribboned ballet shoes even as you twirl twirl pirouet and hope that you land gracefully on your toes.

Blogging is a performance, and there’s more than meets the eye, which does not make it an act of artifice or deception, merely … a performance. And there comes a time when you’ve gotta take a break and message and knead your ugly, painfully throbbing feet, so that you can perform with your heart and soul instead of just going through the motion.

And that, my friends, is my trademarked long-winded-dancing-around-the-issue way of saying that I need a break from blogging and Fig & Quince is going on a two week hiatus. Maybe shorter. Hopefully not longer.

I have to confess that I already played hookey this Saturday by going to the DUMBO Arts Festival instead of cooking up a storm for blog posts as I’d originally planned. Regrets, I have a few, and not too few to mention, but that decision – taking a break and soaking up the light, views, art, and life in one of my favorite Brooklyn neighborhoods – is not one of them. Recommend the practice to other freelance slaves!

The plan is to be back recharged and fully-loaded with recipes for: quince jam (Persian style); quince tas kabob (a personal favorite dish of mine that is simply amazing); Persian pickles; an indulgent personal announcement; a Persian Wedding post; and hopefully a tadig how-to post, and some fun stories.

Meanwhile, if you need to get your Persian-food fix on, and who can blame you if that is the case, please gracefully tiptoe over to any or all of these stellar Persian food blogs:  Turmeric & Saffron, Pomegranate Diaries, Cafe Leilee, Ahu Eats and Fae’s Twist and Tango.

Till SOON!

Well. It was nice to take a blogging break and as I like to say, laziness is its own reward. However: I missed y’all and it’s good to be back! There are some fun recipes in the works down the pipeline, but first, I’m excited to share the news that a few months ago I got the chance to work with the wonderful team (editor and art director) of Brownbook (a cool online & print lifestyle guide to the Middle East) to write & photograph an article for the Tehrangeles-themed issue #41 of their magazine.

Tehrangeles is a hybrid (Tehran + Los Angeles) nickname that’s a wink-wink nod to the fact that more Iranians live in Los Angeles than anywhere else in the world outside of Iran — an interesting statistic that is the direct outcome of the exodus of 1979. (Why did so many self-exiling Iranians pick the city of angels as a landing pad? I don’t know and I do wonder about that. We almost ended up there as well except that my mother vetoed the move but that’s another story entirely.)

The striking cover image — “Hybrid Girl 1″ — is a work by the artist Shirin Aliabadi. Someone on Facebook questioned the aptness of the choice – making a valid point that Iranian women in Los Angeles (or anywhere outside of Iran for that matter) do not cover up with hijab. But: poetic license and all that. Personally, I love it! It’s odd and bold. Eye-candy, in the best sense of the word.

The magazine was published in early September but available for purchase here in the U.S., this past week. Finally!

This is Mr. Ali, the kindly proprietor of the Williamsburg shop who helped me track down copies of Brownbook’s Tehrangeles issue and who indulged my photo-op requests.

A really really nice guy, Mr. Ali continued to humor my tomfoolery by also posing with the magazine opened to my article’s page.  Pages 174-178, baby!

My contribution to the issue was to photograph and write about the Persian beverage sharbat ‘e sekanjabin: a classic, delicious type of sharbat, unique in that it can also be served as a dip with fresh crispy romaine lettuce leaves — praised by Ibn Sina; coveted and copied by the ancient Romans; imbibed by wise Iranians in the hot months of summer — made with honey and vinegar and sprigs of fresh mint.

Of note, Davar Ardalan (NPR senior producer and creator of The Persian Square) and Alex Shams (editor-in-chief of Ajam Media Collective) were kind enough to contribute quotes to the article.

Here are a couple of outtakes:

Sharbat ‘eh sekanjabin, flanked by cherries, figs, blooms. Makes me nostalgic for summer!

The issue is jam-packed with interesting features and images. I loved it all, specially the Kish Island feature; the bit about Mashti Malone’s Persian ice cream parlor; the interview with Arash Davari, editor of Bitaarof magazine; and the intro essay by Porochista Khakpour. But I have to say that I was most intrigued by the profile on (and as a result am currently borderline obsessed with) Ana Lily Aminpour, a filmmaker who’s created the first Iranian Vampire Western! (WHAT!) I can’t wait to see it and I want to watch all of her short films as well, including Pashmaloo, which means “hairy” in Persian and is a word that does not cease to delight me.

This would be me. Captured on a cloudy day captivated by the magazine.

This was my first print publication and I’m tickled pink to be included in this terrific issue and in such good company. A meaningful personal milestone that I thank you for letting me share.

In conclusion, as someone more articulate than moi put it:  “Pick up a copy and help keep print alive!”

Below is a partial listing of vendors in various international cities. For inquiries re global distribution and vendor-location listing, please contact either: lubna@brownbook.me, or, dir@exportpress.com

New York / Brooklyn
There are a bunch of vendors for NY but as of now, I know for sure that it’s available at:
Bedford Exotics Magazines| 195 Bedford Avenue, Brooklyn (718.302.5005) [This is Mr. Ali's store.]
Park Slop Smoke Shop | 65 5TH AVE, Brooklyn (718 857 9559)
Subways Newstand | 1250 6 Ave & 49 ST, Manhattan

London
Albam Shop
Artwords Bookshop
Design Museum
Donlon Books
Magma Books
The Photographers Gallery

Los Angeles
Mohawk General Store
Ooga Booga
Vivier and Bentley

Paris
Colette
French Trotters
Yvon Lambert Gallery

Toronto
Book City #07
This Ain’t the Roadside Library

Vancouver
Inventory
Old Faithful Shop

When I first moved to New York – pre Mayor Bloomberg and designated bike lanes -  I rode my bicycle in the city a few times but it was way too stressful so I kissed the idea and the bike goodbye. Recently though, after hearing someone rave about the Citibike NYC program, I went for it and signed up. The very first time taking out a bike out of the dock and the very first hop on the seat … I tumbled and fell sideways!

A big tree broke my fall and I broke the fall of the bike. A nice guy asked if I needed help and I said no and did my best not to look embarrassed –  which I was. I was embarrassed to the very core of my being.

I dusted myself off, got back on the bike, rode hesitantly at first and then a good many miles, and at some point the nerves ended and elation kicked in. Traversing the neighborhoods that would take nearly an hour by foot in mere minutes, and zipping past the Williamsburg bridge with the Manhattan landscape glittering and sparkling on the other side of East River – a magical view I had not glimpsed in years – was exhilarating. I thought: I want to bike all the time, everywhere! I thought: Biking in the city is the next best thing to flying in the city. I thought: Oh, the freedom I will have. The freedom! It was a definite high!

It wasn’t until later at home that I even realized that I had bloodied and scraped a good chunk of my left knee, arm, and elbow. Adrenaline, mighty drug you are!

Then the next day, I had horrible chest pain which ebbed then later grew more alarming: it hurt to move, laugh, sneeze, or even talk with animation; and I could only take very shallow breaths. Turned out I had badly bruised ribs and was down for the count for a number of days. A painful physical impairment – the very opposite state of freedom – that got me blue and feeling rather sorry for myself. So I threw myself a huge pity party.  (Didn’t you get the Evite?) Why oh why did I fall like that when I’ve known how to ride a bike since I was 4 years old? I lamented. But it was no mystery. I fell because I was a bundle of nerves and anxiety about riding in the street with cars and traffic. I was afraid. I tried not to be, but, I was. So I fell before I even started. Fear is … Fear is a mother chucker.

And what does this saga have to do with with sohan ‘e assal, aka Persian honey almond brittle?

Some of the sohan ‘e assal candy jars we made for the COP event

Well, this: the ingredients of sohan ‘e assal are beguiling and few (saffron, sugar, slivered almonds, honey) and the recipe (while requiring a specific mis en scene and tools) is straightforward as well – but, and it’s a big but – it does require watchful concentration; precision; and at the somewhat nerve-wracking last step, quick steady hands. If you are impatient or if you are nervous and frazzled, you’ll mess it up. If you are prepared, however; and keep calm and carry on with confidence, you’ll end up with a crispy, crunchy perfect little candy treat that is delicious on its own and also pairs spectacularly well with tea. (So good, it’ll even chase away bruised-rib blues.)

Persian food does not have a tradition of desserts, as meals are finished off with tea and fruit instead, so there’s a limited amount of authentic Iranian sweets in the culinary repertoire, but this Persian honey-almond-brittle candy is one of them — a traditional and popular sweet in Iran that is among the shirini  (candies, sweets, pastries) served for Norooz  — a favorite with young and old.

There are various sohan ‘e assal recipes. Some use rosewater, some use butter, some do this, some do that, but after a few trial and vexing errors, the recipe we’re sticking to (get it?) — since it’s proven consistently reliable in producing the type of candy texture that is crisply and densely chewy without being sticky, tastes best, and comes out a nice color — is the recipe given us by Khojee joon, a beloved family friend.

So, as Johann Wolfgang von Goethe said:

Be bold and go forth and make some of your own sohan ‘e assal.

Ingredients

• 1 cup sugar
• 4 tablespoons corn oil (no substitutes)
• 3 tablespoons honey
• 1 1/2 cup slivered almonds
• 1/2 teaspoon ground saffron
• 4-5 tablespoons of chopped pistachios (or a handful of slivered pistachios)

Tools & Preparation

• Dissolve saffron in a tablespoon of hot water.
• Cover two flat trays (or cutting boards, sheet pans, silicion mats) with parchment or waxed paper. Place near the stove.
• Have a small bowl of ice water at hand

Notes: Use a small (or medium-sized) non-stick pot, and only use a wooden spoon to stir the mixture. A heat diffuser will be quite helpful at the last step – if at all possible.

Direction

1. Combine sugar, honey and oil in the pot, melt over medium-high heat for 5-7 minutes (until ingredients have completely melted and blended together, turning a warmer color) — stirring only occasionally.
2. Add the almonds to the mix, lower heat to medium, and stir occasionally for 4-6 minutes (or until the mixture turns a golden brown color and starts to come together and get firm.)
3. Add dissolved saffron to the mix, stirring only occasionally, and continue to cook for approximately another 2-4 minutes — until the mixture is a golden dark brown and the mixture has properly thickened.  To test doneness: drop a  little bit of the mixture into the bowl of ice water. If it hardens immediately, the mixture is done. If so, immediately reduce heat to low (and use the heat diffuser if you have it.)
4. Place teaspoonfuls of the hot-almond mixture on the parchment, and immediately sprinkle  with chopped pistachio garnish. Repeat doing so, leaving a 1-inch space between each spoonful.  Note: It helps and is usual practice to have 2 people working together at this stage. One person quickly placing spoonfuls of the mixture on the parchment, the other person immediately sprinkling it with the chopped pistachio garnish. If working alone, be fearless, bold and dexterous, and work as quickly as possible.
5. Allow candies to cool. Remove from paper and arrange in a serving plate platter or tray of your choice. Will keep for 1-2 weeks if stored in an airtight container.

Serving

Pick by hand. Pop in the mouth! Eat as is, or enjoy with a hot cup of tea. It nicely goes with coffee as well.  Yum!

Mind you: chew delicately and not with vigor. I do joke that sohan ‘e assal can be nicknamed “the dentist’s friend” because it is densely chewy. Thus: take gingerly rather than greedy reckless bites when indulging unless you’re planning to support your favorite local dentist’s summerhouse fund.

When we first moved to America, I was delighted by a number of novel things: fireflies, peanut butter, Seventeen magazine, and the very fun and spooky holiday of Halloween.

In a Persian nod to this most classic American holiday, last year we made the super delicious butternut squash khoresh (which is currently my favorite Persian stew, specially when made with plums.) This year I thought why not make a pumpkin kookoo? There is no authentic recipe for it, so I improvised, and inspired by Pomegranate Diaries, I made it in muffin tins instead of frying it in a pan as is the traditional manner. The result: a decidedly non-spooky savory kookoo that can be served with a sweet garnish (I used roasted cinnamon walnuts and confectioners sugar.) The recipe, however, needs further tinkering (flavor: good; texture: needs work!) so I’m skipping it for now. I do kind of dig the photographs though, so let’s just consider this a Halloween postcard.

Have a safe and spooky Halloween! Lots of treats, not too many tricks!

Tas Kabab is a type of Persian dish that is a fusion of meat and various vegetables, layered and piled on top of each other, nestled in close proximity in a pot, and cooked ever so slowly. In this simmering manner, the various ingredients grow cozy and intimate. They bond! Each conveying its distinct quality to a neighboring companion but also picking up the essence of its in-the-same-pot comrades. The result: a dish with a fusion of flavor, aroma and texture far greater than the sum of its parts. What’s more, it’s a healthy and nutritious meal.

This dish really reminds me of New York. What I mean is that if New York had to be a Persian dish, I think tas kabab is what it’d be. And not just because the ingredients are crowded together in tight quarters, much like people are in the subway or a typical New York apartment building. And not just because this dish reaches skyscraping heights of dizzying flavor. Which boy oh boy, it does. It’s also because tas kabob is ultimately a dish that is all about layering, lauding, and harmonizing diversity; and in that sense, it mirrors the breathless diversity of origin, ethnicity and race of New Yorkers of all walks and standings who live, work and mingle together and in the process create a tapestry of energy that is far more interesting and vibrant than it’d ever be were this a homogenous city.

I think I love tas kabob nearly as much as I love New York: it’s the ultimate in comfort food with a core of unpretentious sophistication that can not be beat. The ingredients for it are pretty flexible and interchangeable, almost all types of vegetables would work out beautifully. My all time favorite though is when it’s made with quince, that deceptively brutish-looking fruit with an intoxicating aroma and delectable flesh. If quinces are out of reach, green apples can be substituted in a pinch. Traditionally, meat is the anchor igredient of any type of tas kabob, but for a vegetarian/vegan meal it is possible to skip it and one may substitute the meat with portobello mushroom instead without missing out on much of the goodness of this dish.

Tas Kabob is one of those dishes that’s all about the prep and assembly, which you can do in a cinch, and once you’re done with that, you can kick back and let chemistry take its slow course and do its delicious deed.

Ingredients

• 2 quinces, washed, cored and sliced  (or substitute 2-3 green apples)
• 4 medium-sized potatoes, peeled and sliced
• 1 pound flank steak, cut into several pieces (omit, or substitute with portobello mushrooms for a vegetarian version)
• 2 big onions, sliced
• 2 cloves garlic, crushed
• 2 large tomatoes, sliced
• 4 carrots, peeled and sliced
• 3-6 leaves of fresh sage, chopped
• juice of one lemon
• 1 tablespoon tomato paste dissolved in 2 tablespoons hot water
• 1 tablespoon turmeric
• 1 tablespoon powder of dried Persian limes (or substitute a dried lime, punctured with a fork)
• 1″ cut of ginger, grated (optional)
• 1 sprig of rosemary (optional)
• salt, pepper, and olive oil

Notes:

• You can substitute other vegetables for this dish, including: squash, zucchini, eggplant, cauliflower, etc.
• You could omit the lemon juice and lime powder and instead, when serving the dish, sprinkle it with cinnamon. If you choose to do so, you could also substitute turmeric with ground saffron for added oomph.

Direction

1. Mix turmeric, lime powder, salt and pepper. (This is your mixed spice to sprinkle the layers. )
   Add 3 tablespoons of water and 3 tablespoons of oil to a medium-sized pot. Construct a mixed layer of ingredients in this order: onions, meat, potato, quince, carrots, and tomato. Sprinkle each ingredient-layer with a bit of the mixed spice; and some of the chopped up sage. Repeat till you’ve used up everything.
2. Mixed dissolved tomato paste with the lemon juice and sprinkle on top.  Add the rosemary sprig.
3. Cook on low heat, covered, for 2-3 hours. (Ideally, use a heat-diffuser for the stove.) Correct seasoning before serving.

Serving

Serve hot in a deep serving bowl.  This dish pairs deliciously with yogurt and flat bread. This is a healthy, low-cal dish bursting with nutrition and a flavor that can’t be beat.

Make it, enjoy it, and noosheh jaan!

I sorely miss the generous stretches of light once summer yields to fall — when dusk and darkness encroach ever more greedily to chase away the daylight. There’s something so tangibly and instinctively foreboding and gloomy about this shift of lightness to darkness as the seasons turn. Still, fall has charm to spare. From the colorful orchestra of the leaves; to a fruit bowl filled with persimmons and pomegranates; to the cozy indulgence of nursing a delicious pumpkin pie cafe latte on a pretty autumn day.

Pumpkin pie cafe latte is an ancient beverage that traces its roots to the Persian royal courts of the Achamenid dynasty when King Darius the Great would end his afternoon hunts by savoring hearty gulps of it out of a magestic silver drinking cup, cast in the form of a winged griffin … JUST KIDDING! I was just pulling your leg! Ha ha! Coffee, awesome amazing delicious coffee, was not gifted to the humanity by the ancient Iranians, although for centuries, there have been public hangouts called gahveh khaneh (literally: “coffee house”) where people, traditionally men, gathered to meet and mingle and drink … tea!  We’ll visit this conundrum at another time.

Meanwhile, speaking of the origin of coffee, I always mistakenly assumed that coffee was not in widespread use until Christopher Columbus mistook America for the Indies, but it turns out (at least if we take Wikipedia‘s word for it) that we either have a 9th century herd of buzzed and caffeinated goats, or, an exiled and ravenous sheik, hailing from Mocha, Yemen (Mocha! Ha! Aha!) to thank for the discovery of this most glorious, legal substance.

Pumpkin pie cafe latte is one of the many delectable instances of the artful evolution of coffee in modern times. To Persianize it, I substituted the original recipe’s vanilla extract and pumpkin pie spice (whatever that is) with a mixture of cinnamon, nutmeg, and of course, cardamom. I didn’t have cloves, else I would have used some of that too. It is a truly minor revision that stretches the boundaries of “Persianizing” more than Kim Kardashian stretches her two-sizes-too-small outfits, but instead of raising an eyebrow in consternation, let’s consider it a culinary poetic license and shrug it off, shall we? Because this drink tastes and smells delicious enough to almost make up for the missing summer sunshine — it verily is autumn in a cup — and I really want to share it with you.

And here it goes …

This is the original recipe that I slightly tinkered with. I like this recipe because it is simple and makes do without an espresso maker and milk steamer. You will need a blender however. (To avoid using a blender, combine all ingredients, save for the optional whipped cream, whisk, heat in a small pot till steaming and frothy, and follow with steps #2 and onward.) The result, to this taster’s taste buds, were quite delicious. I skipped the traditional whipped cream topping, because while I’m not averse to pigging out, whipped cream is not my poison of choice. Go for it though if it’s yours.

Ingredients

• 2 cups milk (whole, 2%, or nonfat)
• 1 cup double-strength brewed coffee (or two shots of espresso)
• 3-4 tablespoons canned pumpkin puree (or canned pumpkin pie mix)
• 1 1/2 tablespoons sugar (or more per your sweetness preference)
• 1/2 teaspoon cardamom
• 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
• 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon + a few more pinches for garnish
• 2 tablespoons whipped cream (optional)

Note: I didn’t use some, but I bet cloves would be great in this recipe.

Direction

1. Whisk milk and pumpkin puree and heat mixture in a small pot. Keep watch till milk is hot and steaming. Remove from stove just before it boils over.
2. Immediately combine the steaming milk in a blender with sugar, cardamom, cinnamon and nutmeg. Blend for 30 seconds or until pleasantly frothy.
3. Pour hot spiced milk in each of the two serving coffee mugs to about 2/3 full. Fill remainder of each mug with the brewed coffee or espresso.
4. Garnish with whipped cream topping (optional & traditional) and sprinkle with a pinch of cinnamon.

Serving

Sip and enjoy as a delicious respite on a given autumn or winter day in your favorite coffee mug.

Make it, enjoy it, and noosheh jaan!

Baba joon snapping a 1″ piece of Dartstrip to put up a pic of the grandkids

The photo series above shows my dear father snapping off a one inch piece of Dartstrip to put up a cute pic of the grandkids on the wall. What is Dartstrip, you ask? Why, it’s a wonderful, patented product (a cross between a scotch tape and a bulletin board, made of snappable steel backed with removable adhesive) that solves the dilemma of displaying artwork and photographs without having to worry about putting a hole in the wall or peeling the paint.

On the one hand, I’m interrupting our regularly scheduled programming and begging your indulgence to blog about this product because my sister, my bro-in-law (remember his no-knead-bread?) & their biz partner are the team behind Dartstrip, and thus I am beaming with pride and I want to support their Kickstarter campaign to raise funds to bring Dartstrip to the market.

On the other hand (the one that’s doing the jazz hands!) I’m blogging about this solely for excitedly selfish reasons, because I want and need something like this product that lets me put up and rotate images at a whim and to my heart’s content (on any kind of wall surface and with zero nagging concerns of damaging the said well) in my life … like, stat. So I’d love for their project to make a go of it.

Please check out their adorable video (with more cameos of my dad and behind the scenes peek at the team with juggling and dancing if you watch it to the end) which charmingly demos the product and consider supporting their Kickstarter campaign.

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Thank you guys & a lovely weekend to all!

This illustration is a digital calligraphy of the Persian word “noosheh jaan”, a word which you may have noticed I use to sign off on recipes, which literally means “may it be delightful to your being/soul”, a veritable florid mouthful in translation, but one that in common parlance simply expresses the sentiment of: “bon appetit” or “enjoy your meal.” Iranians pronounce this to the gathering at large before beginning to eat – be it an ordinary family meal or an elaborate dinner party, and I thought it might be an appropriate sentiment to anticipate the culinary feast of Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving in the U.S is a lovely national holiday centered around food, togetherness, and gratitude – celebrated on the last Thursday in November with a festive meal with one’s family and close friends. The roots of the holiday are traced to an event commonly called the “First Thanksgiving” when the Pilgrims threw a feast to give thanks for the bounty of their first harvest in the New World in 1621 — inviting 90 Wampanoag Native Americans to join them in celebratory festivities lasting 3 days. New settlers in a new world, grateful for surviving, grateful for the kindness of the native inhabitants, all breaking bread together. One can only conjecture about the exquisite, heightened emotional nature of such an event.

One can also rightly wonder about the delicious food the Pilgrims served. The menu is historically recorded to have included waterfowl, venison, fish, lobster, clams, berries, fruit, pumpkin, squash and wild turkeys. A roasted turkey (the bigger the better it seems; the ceremonial carving of which is an integral part of the holiday ritual) remains the formidable centerpiece of a traditional American Thanksgiving dinner; with goose, duck, and the tofu-turkey vegetarian concoction as alternatives. Cranberry sauce, gravy, mashed sweet potatoes, and pumpkin pie are the basic, traditional side dishes – and let’s not overlook the stuffing, which is quite often the most delectable and sought-after delicacy at the table.

I wish I had a photo of our first Thanksgiving meal. When we first left Iran and moved to the U.S. my mom went through an intense period of ferocious homekeeping. She knitted, she sewed, she cooked. She clipped and collected recipes galore and made yogurt, feta cheese, jams, jellies, pickles, preserves, pizza dough, pie crusts, you name it, from scratch; and she embraced Thanksgiving and all its accoutrements with vim, vigor, zeal and zest. Which is not surprising really – come to think of it. Our first year in a new world felt like such a battery of emotions not unlike being shipwrecked at times — exile is a historical punishment for a good reason, it is extremely painful — and food and togetherness are anchors and safe harbors. Our first Thanksgiving was a gorgeous bountiful spread – my mother’s crusade of delicious soldiering-on. Of re-building a home. I took it for granted then and it is only in retrospect that I have the wisdom to admire her resilience and strength.

At some point, I’d love to share some of my mom’s by now tried-and-true family classic Thanksgiving recipes as well as some of our new Persianized concoctions; but for now, let’s conclude with this feast of a poem about giving thanks and thanksgiving by the revered Persian poet and mystic, the one and only Rumi.

Rumi’s Thanksgiving Poem

Thanksgiving is sweeter than bounty itself.
One who cherishes gratitude does not cling to the gift!
Thanksgiving is the true meat of God’s bounty;
the bounty is its shell,
For thanksgiving carries you to the hearth of the Beloved.

Abundance alone brings heedlessness,
 thanksgiving gives birth to alertness.
The bounty of thanksgiving will satisfy and elevate you,
and you will bestow a hundred bounties in return.
Eat your fill of God’s delicacies,
and you will be freed from hunger and begging.

- Jalal Ad-Din Muhammad Rumi

Patch of New York sky the day after Hurricane Sandy

Happy Thanksgiving!

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The turkey is in the house! The turkey is in the house!

Thanksgiving was a potluck affair of family and friends over at my sister and brother in law’s this year. To give you an idea of the scope, the stats were this: 25 people big and small, 3 turkeys, 8 pies, 1 espresso machine, 1 gnome.

A bottle of cranberry Persian sharbat + a diligent gnome

So. The turkey … Or rather, the turkeys. 3 of them as I said. To clarify, 2 were originally birds, one was originally tofu. Yup, there was tofu turkey! I’ve long heard tales of these mythical creatures but had never seen one with my own eyes and was quite curious to glimpse one up close. I had imagined it’d be tofu in the shape of a turkey. But … no. It looked like a roll of meatloaf, and it came with gravy. Apparently some tofu turkeys also come with a mock wishbone (called a wishstix) made out of tofu jerky. Doesn’t that sound … amazing? This one didn’t – and I’m undecided if that was good or bad. May I say that tofu turkey is not the most enticing or tantalizing looking offering?

However, one person at the party absolutely loved the tofu turkey. He kept boisterously and (truth be told) somewhat aggressively pointing to it and asking for: “mo”, “mo”, “MO!” That someone was my 2 year old nephew. He couldn’t get enough of it! So funny.

tofu turkey – in captivity

Lovely Nadia presenting the roasted tofu-turkey fresh out of the oven

The other turkeys had an interesting fate. They were not roasted in the oven as is the wont of most turkeys during the holidays. They were instead deep fried! This was another thing I’ve long heard tales of (including on an episode of King of the Hill) but had never witnessed with mine very own eyes. The idea and its contraption-construction and execution were my brother-in-law’s — who is prone to making things adventurous and theatrical and who has the grace-under-pressure aplomb to pull it off. There were some technical glitches and for a little while we thought it might be a turkeyless thanksgiving after all. But we never doubted and glitches were resolved after all and turkeys were had. Thus, it was not just delicious but a fun spectacle and memorable.

Trussing the turkey was a jazzy affair!

A poor turkey, awaiting its sizzling end, on a very cold, brilliantly sunny day of thanks.

Needless to say, aside from the turkeys, there were food galore. Befitting a feast. There was: cranberry sauce, 3 different types of stuffing, 2 dishes of roasted Brussel sprouts mixed with other goodies, biscuits, haricots vert, stuffed grape leaves (if I make it again will post its recipe), sunflower seed hummus (yum and I’ve been promised its recipe and will share!), a fab wild rice dish, and sweet potato fries. A Persian mixed-rice and tadig peacefully mingled with the American food. May the respective nations do the same.

Tadig – that obscure crunchy object of desire

Lovely Azul holding a bowl of her delicious sunflower seed hummus. Recipe soon!

And you didn’t forget about the pies, did you? There were 8 of them! And of course by pies, I mean desserts, if you are going to be a stickler and insist on accountability and accuracy. So, 8 desserts, give or take, including: a pecan pie, 2 fruit cobblers, an apple cranberry crisp, a chocolate marquis, a traditional pumpkin pie, and 2 pumpkin creme brulees.  Ah ha & oh la la!  Blow-torching to make the delicious glassy brulee crust is one of those things that’s just fun to watch. Tristan, who made the phenom creme brulee pumpkin pies, did the blow torching honors. Dave is pointing approvingly – prior to commencing his own thriving made-to-order espresso-drink stint with his espresso machine. (The best cappuccinos!) Ben & Stella gamely supplied the accompanying awe + shock vibe of comraderie that is a pivotal part of a any successful blow-torching session.

Do try this at home!

Thus concludes a post looking back at a day chock-full of big and little blessings.

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Azul holding a bowl of her delicious sunflower seed hummus

Azul (the beautiful lady in the photograph) was one of the guests at my sister & brother-in-law’s Thanksgiving potluck party that I just posted about. Azul hails from Argentina and she is a software programmer and an artist and she likes to cook and she is very, very nice. It was a case of instant “like” when I met her at the party, and also an instant case of “yum” when I tasted the delicious sunflower seed hummus she had made for the potluck. I loved the taste (nutty & round, a bit peanut-buttery in flavor) and texture (creamy and grainy) of this hummus and while it was served as a dip I can easily imagine it also as a wonderful sandwich spread or even a relish.  The good news is that the recipe for sunflower seed hummus recipe is beautifully healthy and simple and Azul is graciously sharing it below as a short and sweet guest-blogger post. Further good news: she has promised a guest post about a Persianized version of an Argentine dish down the road. It’s safe to say that I can not wait! Meanwhile, without further ado, let’s dip into this delicious guest post in Azul’s own words:

Hi everyone!

I learned to make this dip in Nono, Córdoba Province, in Argentina when my violinist friend Marcos invited me to a gathering to meet a group of wonderful people who were also living part of the year in this beautiful location. One thing we all had in common was that we all had lived in different places; loved the arts, music and dance; were interested in eating healthy; and most importantly, our common interest in doing something daily to appreciate nature and life as a way of living and a simple philosophy.

Back to the recipe: I know I’ll be making a big batch at first opportunity. I tend to enjoy things a little bit on the salty side, so the only revision I’d personally make would be to add a bit more salt. I’d also love to see how it fares mixed in with some dried cranberries. I like that the recipe is versatile enough to add various types of green as well (would love to try it with kale) and I bet it’ll adapt itself well to further improvisation. In any event, I do recommend this recipe heartily!

Thank you again Azul jan!

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I preach boldness to myself, even so, I routinely shy away from many risks and adventures and even harmless culinary escapades like making bread or pizza dough because I feel intimidated. But a good many months ago I wanted to entertain and feed a little boy I adore who adores all things carb and bread and pizza and I was thus motivated to finally take the plunge to make a pizza from scratch to make him happy. (In a battle between intimidation and love, fear often whimpers away and goes poof!) I looked for a foolproof recipe and it was Suzanne’s very easy quick pizza dough recipe to the rescue which came out great, smelled quite good, felt wonderful to touch when handled (pliable, soft, stretchy) and made for a toothsome pizza (even though I burned it a bit) that was devoured with enthusiasm.

Learning how to make a homemade pizza is a delicious but dangerous skill. There are very many calories in a given slice and a given slice can be eaten in a lickety-split and yet your tummy goes right back to demanding: Gimme More you troll! So rather intentionally, I refrained from avidly exercising this new-found skill. At the same time, making dough is such a tactile pleasure and a plain pizza dough itself is a blank canvas primed to be personalized and beckoning customization with an endless versatility of taste and toppings and flavors and I’ve since positively yearned to make a series of so-to-speak-Persianized pizzas.

Dough, beautiful dough

The first Persianized pizza idea that popped into my head was to use persimmons. They are in season here in the U.S.; they are lovely to look at and to taste (although it took yours truly many years until I learned how to eat and enjoy persimmons); and they remind me of my childhood in Iran. I was beaming with confidence that a persimmon pizza topping was my very own singularly brilliant and novel idea but a “persimmon pizza” Google query quickly slapped me out of this notion and I snapped out of it.  (Extra credit & pizza toppings for you if you get the movie allusion, ha ha!)

I passionately disliked persimmons when I was a kid but I am now rather enamored with these low cal, nutritious and very pretty fruits. Stars in my eyes!

Refuting my unique genius, as mentioned, there are a good number of persimmon pizza recipes out there, and a conference of persimmons with goat cheese and basil seems to be the most popular combo for this type of pizza. Instead of reinventing the wheel, I went with the popular tried & true & praised triumvirate. And let me tell you: the flavor & texture combination of persimmon and goat cheese is heavenly. Heavenly! Both are soft and comforting in the best way, and one is delightfully pungent while the other is delectably sweet, and topped with the pizza bread they are yummy yummy yummy. And basil of course plays beautifully with persimmon and cheese and dough and brightens up the entire game.

If I make this pizza again, though, I’d like to experiment with a more melty type of cheese (the goat cheese softened but didn’t melt the way I was hoping it would; and I also think a sharper flavored cheese may work nicely as well) and also next time I won’t skimp on the dough (I halved mine and the result was a thin crust that turned crispy instead of pillowy.) This persimmon pizza I feel pays merely a lip-smacking service to Persianizing, so I will do better next time instead of taking the easy way out. A Twitter friend suggested berberry as a topping, which: love the idea! Very inspiring and plan to use it. The beauty of pizza is that it opens up wide the doors of experimenting with different tastes and textures and I definitely want and plan on making many different types of Persianized pizzas in the near future.

A couple of notes before moving on to the recipe:

• When I say pizza, I really mean “pizza” & thus do not mean to in anyway co-opt and appropriate the real and authentic Italian pizza which is exceptional and incomparable.
• Whenever I read or type the words “pizza pie” I invariably hear these lyrics playing in my head: ♪ When the moon hits your eye, like a big pizza pie, that’s amore. ♫ For those of you in the know, these are lyrics of a Dean Martin song that opens and closes the film Moonstruck. If you are a fan of this movie like me, I have got to share this recent and awesome Flickr find of the actual brownstone where Cher lived in the movie Moonstruck. Corner of Cranberry & Willow, in Brooklyn Heights, Brooklyn. Isn’t that cool?

And now:  Pizza Pizza!

Ingredients

For the quick pizza dough – adapted from original recipe here:

• 2 1/2 cup flour
• 2 1/4 teaspoon instant yeast
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup tepid water
• 2 tablespoons olive oil

For the pizza topping:

• 5 ounces goat cheese
• 2 ripe or semi-ripe persimmons, peeled, and sliced
• a handful of fresh basil
• a drizzle of olive oil

Direction

1. In a large bowl add the warm water; sprinkle with yeast and let sit for 5 minutes. Whisk oil and salt into the mixture. Add flour and stir until a sticky dough forms. With clean hands knead the dough for about 10 minutes until it is smooth and elastic. Sprinkle a bit more flour if the dough seems a little too moist or sticky.
2. Transfer dough to a lightly-oiled bowl and turn to coat all sides with oil. Cover bowl loosely with a plastic wrap or a tea towel and let sit in a warm draft-free place for 1 to 1 1/2 hour until the dough doubles in bulk.
3. Preheat your oven to 450 degrees. Line a pizza pan with parchment paper or aluminum paper.
4. Remove dough from bowl and divide in half. Freeze one portion in a freezer bag (it keeps for up to months.) The other portion, transfer to a lightly floured work surface and gently knead a few times until it is smooth. Use fingers and heels of hands to shape the dough and stretch dough on your pizza pan.
5. Lightly brush dough with olive oil. (This prevents dough from getting soggy from the toppings.) Add the persimmons and cheese. Bake until the crust is golden brown.

Serving

Just before serving, garnish with fresh basil leaves and drizzle with extra-virgin olive oil.

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Old Mac Ghassem (also known as Mashdi Donald) and his coddled pishi kat Meeyou and the rest of his cute critter-menagerie join Fig & Quince (and 7legs) — in this very special time of year – with a heartfelt and bellowing chorus to wish you all:

Happy Holidays, a Merry Christmas, and a very happy New Year.

Let’s all sing along together now (to the tune of ♪ Oh, Old MacDonald Had a Farm E.I.E.I.O ♫ ):

With a woof woof woof and a cluck cluck cluck and an oink oink oink and a meow meow meow and a Perzh Perzh Persian and a neigh neigh neigh here and a baa-baa-baa there, here a cluck, there a woof, here an oink, everywhere a baa, here a Persian or two, and there a MEOW … Ooooh …

♫ VERY.

HAPPY. ♪

♪  HOLIDAYS!

La la la la la LA! ♪

♫

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ps if you see any video ads below, IGNORE those. WordPress embeds these but I have no interest or affiliation with these ads.

Persian Lentil rice with kishmish (raisin) & khorma (dates)

My friend Mette (who hails from the magical land of Hans Christian Andersen) and I have a giddy, gushing love of New York in common, plus a penchant for walking, and we have really good walking karma! In the good ol’ days when Mette lived in New York, we would go on epic strolls (reminiscent of Toni and Christopher who flânent their way through Paris in the wonderful Metroland novel by Julian Barnes) and we would always, somehow or other and often in surprising ways, encounter and experience perfect and memorable New York moments. Back then I was solely an urban walker but Mette also biked and mind you this was: without a helmet; in all manners of weather; and before the city was even remotely bike-friendly. I was torn between aghast horror for her safety and appreciative marvel at her chutzpah.

When I recently signed up for NY’s bike program, you may recall that my city biking adventures began somewhat inauspiciously. But as soon as my bruised ribs healed I was back on that bike and I have to say, I’m 100% addicted! Save for snowy days and a few sick days, I have been racking up the miles, rain or shine, pedaling in traffic and over bridges and alleyways and city streets and bike paths, visiting old far-flung haunts and discovering new ones, and through it all, I have often missed my buddy Mette because if she still lived here I know that we would be having so many epic biking adventures. Like all good friendships, when it comes to being enchanted by things, we speak the same language. Hopefully she can move back here like she wants to in the near future (let’s all send her positive vibes to win the U.S. Green Card Lottery) but meanwhile the consoling news for her tribe here is that she gets to visit us in NY rather regularly. She was here just recently, matter of fact. And of course, we had to go biking through Brooklyn!

Mette – Snapped fresh off the L train in Williamsburg, Brooklyn

And so it was that a few weeks or so ago we met up mid-afternoon in Brooklyn, on a FREEZING but super pretty (sunny, puffy clouds, blue sky) day and pedaled our way from the waterfront views of Williamsburg towards Vinegar Hill and on to DUMBO (with a fun coffee + chat + toe-warming pitstop) and then onwards to the Brooklyn Heights promenade. From there we traversed the gorgeous Brooklyn Bridge and on to Chambers Street in Manhattan, then rode all the way West to the Hudson River trail where we headed up north to 16th street (chatting while stealing glimpses at the glittering New Jersey skyline and a cruise ship sauntering slowly on the river) and we then made our way East to Union Square where we finally bid adieu to the bikes.

It was a whole lot of exertion, a whole lot of gorgeous views, a whole heck of a good time, and just an overall feeling of exuberance.

Williamsburg Brooklyn Waterfront with Manhattan Skyline in the BKGD

Manhattan Bridge in DUMBO, Brooklyn

Leafing through Sekanjabin Sharbat Article

DUMBO | Glittery view of Brooklyn Bridge & Manhattan skylight

And then, we made our way to my parents apartment for din-din. Now, my parents theoretically & technically reside elsewhere, but for awhile now they mostly live in New York because of my father’s work. That day, they had just returned to the city in the early afternoon hours when I called my mother and asked: misheh ma sham biyayim khonahtoon? That is: I invited us over for dinner! My mom, champ & khanoom that she is, agreed and somehow or other in the scant few hours she had between returning to the city and before we got to their apartment, she’d set the coffee table with a bowl of fruit and ajeel (such a Persian thing to do!) and prepared a delicious dish: adas polo (Persian lentil rice) with raisin and dates and walnuts, served with saffron chicken breasts. (There was tadig too — of course!) Mashallah & hats off to her!

When we got to the apartment, we were welcomed not just with warm greetings but also an intoxicating waft of the heavenly scents of saffron, rice, cinnamon, and butter mingled together! Oh, mon dieu! Let me pose a perfectly rhetorical question: is there anything better than being hungry like a wolf and dropping in just in time to sit down to a delicious meal in the company of some of your favorite people?

Adas Polo & Tadig

Over dinner, being as it was the eve of their wedding anniversary, my parents told the story of how they’d met. (An interesting tale where the ritual of serving a tray of tea plays a pivotal and traditional role — so I’m saving their story for a future post about the ceremony of tea drinking and Iranians.) Mette indulged us with accounts of her life and work in Copenhagen; and I went on about the 1976 UFO sighting in Tehran (WHAT!) which I’d just found out about while listening to a TTBOOK podcast! After dinner, we had tea (with milk, please) and seeded pomegranates (another quintessential Persian thing to serve when having guests over) and some cookies for dessert. It was a really fun night. The perfect ending to a perfect afternoon. Wish you all could have been there!

Were it only possible! Sadly, and Napoleon Bonaparte’s decree on the impossibility of impossibility notwithstanding (and anyhow we saw how Napoleon fared with that motto of his in Russia) that lovely scenario does not seem to be ever possible in the realm of practical reality. BUT, it is entirely possible and even practical (that is if something that tastes magical could ever be said to be practical) to recreate your very own mouthwatering and delicious adas polo.

Now, a shocking thing about Persian lentil rice is that it is traditionally not considered a fancy enough dish for formal dinner parties, which is heresy and crazy talk as far as I’m concerned, because the amalgam of taste, texture and scent of humble lentils made decadent with saffron, butter, rice and advieh (mixed spices) combined with crunchy walnuts and sweetly succulent sauteed and buttered raisins and dates is enough to incite a swoon … oh my, do give me a minute to fan myself out of this tizzy. 

Adas Polo

Theatrics aside, what I’m saying is … Trust me, this is no hyperbole. Persian lentil rice is good, good, GOOD! Go for it! Make it your New Year’s resolution.

Happy 2014! Make every day count this year!

Ingredients

• 2 1/2 cups Basmati or other top notch rice (rinsed and soaked)
• 1 cup lentils
• 12 dates (2-4 per person)
• 1 cup black raisins
• 1/2 cup walnuts
• 1 small onion, diced or very finely sliced
• a hint of turmeric (optional)
• ground saffron (a couple of pinches)
• 3+ tablespoons olive oil or butter or ghee
• 6 cooked chicken breasts (optional)

Advieh yeh polo (combo-spice for the rice)

Combine ground cardamom (1/4 tsp) + coriander powder (1/2 tsp) + cinnamon (1/2 tsp) + cumin 1/4 tsp (optional)

Caramelized onions with sauteed raisins & dates

Direction

1. Clean lentils and cook with lightly salted water, till al dente. Drain and set aside.
2. Cook chicken breasts per your preferred method and set aside. (My mom’s method is to wash and dry the chicken tenders and baste each piece with lemon juice and grated ginger, sautee in pan, add salt, turn the other side and sautee lightly, sprinkle with the merest hint of turmeric, cover with lid, and allow to cook on medium low heat. At the end, sprinkle with a pinch of saffron, toss and mix to blend the color.)
3. Wash and dry raisins and dates. Pit dates. Sautee dates and raisins (together or perferably separately) lightly in a little bit of butter. Sautee walnuts separately in a bit of butter as well. Make piyaz dagh (caramelized onions.) Mix the sauteed raisins and dates with the caramelized onions.
4. Wash rice (rinse with cold water a few times until the water runs clear), soak for an hour or longer in lightly salted water, drain. In a large pot bring 4 quarts of water and 2 tablespoons of salt to a boil. [Optional step: while boiling, add a hint of turmeric to the water for color.] Add the rinsed rice to the water and boil rice, stirring occasionally and gently with a slotted spatula (ideally a kafgir) for 5 to 7 minutes, til al dente (grains are neither fully cooked nor crunchy.) Just then when the grains are al-dente, add the cooked lentils to the boiling water and stir with spatula to mix with rice grains, then immediately drain pot in a colander. Pour 2 to 3 cups of tepid water over the rice in the colander. Drain. (This step helps de-starch the rice which in turn prevents rice grains from sticking to each other. Remember, in Persian cooking, the gold standard of rice is obtaining a bed of individual grains of rice, none sticking to another.)
5. Rinse the pot you used to boil the rice, and in it heat 1/2 cup water and 2 tablespoons oil (plus an optional generous dab of butter) till mixture is boiling hot. Then turn off the heat and one spatula at a time, transfer the rice from the colander to this pot. Half way through, sprinkle top of the rice bed with 1/2 of your advieh (rice-spice) and a pinch of saffron and finish up transferring the remainder of the rice in the colander to the pot. When done, shape and taper the rice with the spatula (gently, no mushing the grains!) to create a pyramid type of dome. With the spatula’s handle dig a few holes in the rice pyramid. Sprinkle the rest of the advieh (rice-spice) and another pinch of saffron over the rice. Cover pot’s lid with a tea towel and firmly lid the pot.
6. Cook rice over medium heat until detecting steam – usually around 10-12 minutes. Once rice has steamed, reduce heat and continue to cook rice for on low heat for an hour and a half. Turn off heat and allow rice to rest – without removing the pot’s lid – for a few minutes.
7. During the few minutes that the cooked rice is resting: A) Dissolve a pinch of saffron in 2-4 tablespoons of hot water. B) Melt 2 tablespoons of butter (or mixture of olive oil and butter) over medium heat. C) Rinse and wring a kitchen towel and spread it on a counter.
8. Place the pot of rice on top of the moist kitchen towel. Remove lid. Pour the melted butter over the rice. Sprinkle the saffron water over the rice. The rice is now ready to be plated and served.

Serving

Set aside a few spatulas of rice from the top. (This is the saffron and butter enriched portion which will be used later to garnish the rice.) Plate the remaining loose rice in a mound in a serving dish. Crown the serving dish with the set-aside top-portion of the rice. Cut up the tadig (the crunchy layer of bottom of the pot rice) into wedges and serve in a separate plate. Layer the raisins and dates and walnuts over the rice. Place chicken breasts alongside the rice. (For a vegetarian and equally delicious version, simply omit the protein.) Serve with yogurt. Eat and enjoy and nooshe’ jaan!

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Kookoo Sabzi (Persian Herb Kuku) garnished with walnuts & radishes

One of the earliest posts on Fig & Quince was a recipe for kookoo Sabzi, a very popular type of Persian kookoo that is enjoyed year round and is also among the traditional foods served during Norooz — the Persian New Year’s 2 weeks long celebration — because it is green and thus symbolizes growth, renewal and spring.

What exactly is a kookoo? As I wrote earlier, I like to imagine kookoo as the precocious love child of a quiche and a soufflé. The Zelig of egg dishes: because it bears a semblance of resemblance to a frittata, fritter, omelette or even a pancake!

But ultimately and in a nutshell, kookoo refers to a genre of Persian food made with whipped eggs which then are folded in with various ingredients. In Iranian cuisine, we have garlic kookoo, eggplant kookoo (one of my favorites – yum), green bean kookoo, potato kookoo (delicious with candied turnips), meat kookoo, cauliflower kookoo, and a bunch more besides. Variations abound! Kookoos can be served as an appetizer, a side dish, or a light meal. Since they travel well, most versions of kookoo are also quite popular as picnic fare.

Kuku Sabzi batter: chopped herbs, walnuts & berberries folded into lightly whipped eggs

A good kookoo sabzi is a thing of beauty: fluffy, fragrant, hearty yet light, filled with nutrition, and absolutely delicious! The contrasting play of the tangy berberries and crunchy earthy walnuts in a bite of fluffy herb-infused kookoo sabzi, when partaken with yogurt and some bread, is poised to delight even a persnickety palette. [Fun Fact: Kookoo sabzi was one of dishes served at the 2012 White House Passover dinner.]

Recently I had occasion to avail myself of the goodness of this lovely kookoo and it occurred to me to repeat the recipe for those of you who may have missed it earlier – because it’s just too good a recipe to miss tasting and having in your repertoire, and because as Doctor Seuss said: “If you never did eat kookoo you should. These kookoo things are fun and fun is good.”

Doctor Seuss said: “Try them, try them, and you may! Try them and you may, I say.”

Let’s not just sing Kookoo sabzi’s praise – let’s get cooking and make some!

Ingredients

• 1 bunch each of: chives (or scallion), parsley, and cilantro
• 3 or 4 stems of fresh dill
• 3 or 4 pale green crispy leaves of lettuce  (optional: lightens up the batter’s color)
• 1 teaspoon of dried fenugreek seeds (or tarragon)
• a pinch of dried mint
• 1 tablespoon of turmeric
• 1 teaspoon baking powder – allow it to soak in a bit of water so that it bubbles
• 5 eggs – best if at room temperature
• 3 tablespoons barberries (1 tablespoons for the garnish rest for the batter)
• 1/2 cup walnuts, coarsely chopped plus some extra for optional garnish
• 1 /2 to 1 tablespoon sugar (optional)
• 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
• olive oil for frying
• salt & pepper to taste

Persian Green herb Kookoo batter with berberries

Preparation

1. Take eggs out of the fridge & allow to reach room temperature.
2. Soak barberries in cold water for 10-15 minutes and rinse several times (a tea filter would do nicely as a colander ) to wash away any trace of dust, dirt or whatnot. Drain, dry, and set aside for now.
3. Trim & remove  the stems from parsley, dill, and cilantro. Soak parsley, cilantro, dill, chives (or scallion) and lettuce leaves in cold water for up to 30 minutes to loosen grime and dirt; drain, and rinse until there is no trace of grit or dirt. Pry dry completely. Bone dry. (Otherwise, when frying the herbs they will release moisture which will ruin the batter.) Chop all the herbs & lettuce as fine as possible. (It helps to chop the herbs the same size, so that the batter cooks evenly.)
4. Add 2-3 tablespoons of oil to a skillet or a large pot (which you can later on use to cook the kookoo batter inside), heat on high flame and straightaway, prior to the oil getting hot, add the chopped fresh herbs. Stirring constantly, cook for around 5 minutes or until the herb mixture reduces in size and is soft and pliant. Let cool completely. (This step is called “taft dadan eh sabzi” in Farsi and the goal is to rid the herbs of any excess moisture to prevent a soggy kookoo and get a fluffy and thick one instead.)
5. In a big bowl crack the eggs and whip lightly, then add the: dried mint, dried fenugreek, chopped walnuts, 2 tablespoons of barberries, flour, baking powder, turmeric, and the sauteed herbs. Mix well.
6. Heat at least 4 tablespoons of olive oil in a big pot (you can use the same one you used earlier to cook the herbs – just wipe it with a paper towel to remove any residues.) Once the oil is sufficiently (test: when a dollop of the mixture puffs up when dropped into the pot) pour in the entire mixture into the pot, lightly press the batter with a spatula or spoon to even the surface, and cook, covered (ideally with a glass lid so you can see the batter) for 10-12 minutes on medium heat until the bottom of the batter coagulates and is set. Using the edge of a spatula, cut kookoo into 4 wedges and flip each wedge over to cook the other side. (Add a couple more tablespoons of oil at this point if necessary.) Continue to cook – uncovered this time – on medium heat for approximately 5-7 more minutes until the batter is evenly cooked throughout. Place on a serving platter, garnish with sauteed barberries and walnuts, and serve. We also used some spring onions as decorative and edible garnish. [ Alternative method: Instead of frying the batter on the stove top, you can bake it in the oven. To do so: preheat the oven to350 °F, pour the kookoo batter into an oiled heatproof dish, and bake uncovered for 20- 25 minutes. Run a knife around the edges of the kookoo to loosen and invert onto a serving dish. Cut into wedges or squares, garnish, and serve.]
7. For the garnish: heat 2 tablespoons of oil in a small skillet over a medium flame, add sugar (optional, skip it if you like tangy flavor like we do) and 1 tablespoon of barberries, and stir well for just under and no longer than a minute. Sprinkle barberries over the kookoo when it’s ready to serve.

Serving

kookoo sabzi is good either hot or cold, and makes for a tasty lunch or dinner, either as a light entree. or a side dish, or an appetizer. It is customary to serve kookoo sabzi with yogurt and bread and sabzi khordan (platter of fresh herbs.)

“Try them, try them, and you may! Try them and you may, I say.” Dr. Seuss

Make it, enjoy it, and noosheh jan, we say!

There is a Mexican New Year’s tradition of eating 12 grapes and making a wish with each one for each month of the coming year. Isn’t that an utterly charming custom? (ps. The still life painting with fruits and the Persian kilim is by my brother.)

Is it too late to take stock of 2013 and reminisce about the past year? Are we over the newness of this year already? Please tell me it isn’t so — 2014 is only a hint over two weeks old, still shiny and filled with promise and potential and hope, and surely not in need of some botox yet — what, with 349 whole days left till 2015. (Although actually, while that sounds like a lot of time, let’s face it, it may go poof and vanish just like a dandelion caught in a gust of wind.)

Did you make any resolutions? Are you sticking to them? I don’t make New Year’s resolutions but I do have a few mottos I have adopted throughout life that I do my best to live by, and come a new year, I polish them up so that they burnish more brightly on the forefront mantlepiece of my mind. They serve me well, so I’ll share them with you:

Perfect is the enemy of Good. (Another variation of this motto is: Done is better than Perfect. Quilt artists are fond of this aphorism. Understanding this wisdom liberated me beyond measure. Ending a bout of years-long self-fulfillment paralysis. May it do the same for you. Whatever you want to do, just do it. Who cares whether it is perfect or not?)

Hands to work and hearts to God. (A lovely Shaker prayer. I adore it. Heard it when watching the stellar Ken Burns documentary on Shakers. Made me want to be a Shaker.)

Don’t drown in a cup of water. (I forget where I came across this. It is simple yet profound wisdom. I interpret it to mean: don’t freak out, don’t fret over little things, handle conflict and travails with grace, have faith.)

Be Bold. Whatever you do or dream you can, begin it. (Ghoethe said this and I’ve already waxed plenty poetic about it.)

Be kind. (Kindness is a gift to oneself as much as it is to others. I try to remind myself of this and practice it. Even on the subway!)

It is the sign of the times we live in that blogs also have occasion to review and take stock of their performance in the year past. WordPress sends out an “annual report” for all the blogs they host. A nicely designed and engineered report with a fun and festive fireworks animated GIF and interesting statistical analogies that among other things also identifies the 5 most popular posts of the year on one’s blog. A few cool bloggers shared their top 5 blog posts of 2013 list, and I thought I’d be a copy cat (MEOW!) and do the same.

Let the countdown to Fig & Quince’s top 5 posts of the year begin:

Mirza Ghassemi – An Iranian vegetarian eggplant dish

A yummy & truly simple vegetarian (can also be made vegan style) eggplant dish from the Northern (shomal) region of Iran. The story and recipe delightfully narrated by Yvonne joon, a most charming racounter, and the very first Fig & Quince guest blogger. I’m not surprised that out of the 60 odd posts on the blog last year, Yvonne joon penned one of the top five. She is witty, pretty, kind and oh so bright and her friendship I count as one of the great bonuses of having started this here blog.

Khoresh Fesenjoon – Persian pomegranate & walnut stew

Bearing some resemblance in looks (if not taste) to the Mexican mole, fesenjoon (also called fessenjan), is known as the king of khoresh. Made with a mixture of ground walnuts and pomegranate syrup, fesenjoon’s flavor is tangy and sweet and rich and its texture is heaven: soft but granular and thick. It is almost unbearably delicious when served with rice. Trust!

Persian Rice 101 – An Introduction to Polo & Tadig

Persian rice is a science and art to itself and the measure by which one gauges the true talent of an Iranian cook. This post, part 1 of a Rice 101 series, is an introduction to the rice (polo) and also to tadig (also spelled tahdig sometimes) or the bottom-of-the-pot crunchy crust of the rice that is the most coveted offering at any Iranian dinner table.

Grass is Sabz! Sabzeh is Green! Or: How to Grow Sabzeh (for Norooz)

Oh, I get so happy looking at these pictures. They bring back fond and wholesome memories! They are from this past March when I sprouted lentils and sprouted wheat and watched them grow. Sprouting seeds, called “sabzeh sabz kardan” is one of the many very pretty customs of the secular and ancient celebration of the Persian New Year aka Norooz. I confess I’m still smiling looking at the photos – they are synonymous for me with spring! I may just rush spring and sprout some seeds right away just for the sheer pretty pleasure of it. ( A step by step guide to grow sabzeh at the full post.)

And, ta da, drum roll, the number 1 most viewed post:

Persian Rice 101: A Step-by-Step Guide to making the Perfect Persian Rice

Perhaps not surprisingly, yet another Persian Rice 101 post, this one a pictorial step by step guide to making the perfect Persian rice took the #1 most viewed post. All credit is due to Persian rice itself, which truly, is the best rice in the world. It just is! The directions may seem exhaustive, but give it a try or three, and once you get the hang of it and it becomes second nature, you can make a fluffy pillowy bed of fragrant and perfectly steamed rice with one arm behind your back and win friends and influence people. Promise!

So that was Fig & Quince’s highlights in 2013, according to Word Press. For 2014, I have some theme adjustments (that I hope you’ll like) and a few fun plans for Fig & Quince up my sleeve. One of the plans intersects with my personal life and it is major and so dear to me that just thinking about it makes my heart go: thump, thump, thump! I hope I can realize it. I pray it will happen. I will weep if it does (with joy.) I will weep if it doesn’t (with sadness. And I might just burst.) Hint: its realization involves getting on a plane! Please wish me luck!

And in conclusion and as I bid you adieu till we read again, I hope the new year has been treating you kindly thus far and that it will coddle and pamper you till the next one and I hope that you are either keeping up with your good resolutions or have the good sense not to beat yourself up if you have not.

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Vintage Iran Air & Iranian Airline Stewardesses circa 60′s | SOURCE

A Friday post calls for a fun post. So I thought I’d round up for you some images of Iran that have caught my eye while perusing the Internet. The theme: vintage Iran of the 60′s and the 70′s. Let’s travel back in time. Berim!

This first picture is of 4 Iranian airline stewardesses (flight attendants) posing with varying degrees of levity in front of a plane that bears the words: “هواپیمای ملی‌ ایران” which means: Iran’s National Airline. In English lettering to the left of the plane we have “Persia” except that the “P” is cropped out of the shot, leaving us with just “ersia.”

Judging by the outfits, this is the Mad Men era. And judging by the length (or lack thereof) of the skirts, it is Mad Men circa Don Draper’s second (Megan Draper) and not first (Betty Draper) wife. In Iran, mini skirts were known as “mini jupe” — the French term for the said style of garment.

By the way, going back to the airplane, do you see the 10th window-portal of from the right? Those were usually the reserved row of seats where the rolled up flying magic carpets would be stored for use in case of an emergency.

I kid! I kid.

Behrooz Vossoghi Iranian movie star & heartthrob | SOURCE

This rather handsome man, Behrooz Vossoghi, was the biggest matinee idol (think Brad Pitt or George Clooney) of my parents’ epoch. I don’t believe I ever saw even one of his films as my parents were rather picky and strict about the type of movies we could watch. Pity, but such are the cards we are dealt in life. Do you see the movie poster in the top middle that reads: Arrivederchi Tehran? Oh, I would so like to see it! Netflix … are you listening?

Googoosh & Behroos Vosooghi – The Iranian Brangelina of Yore | SOURCE

Like any sex symbol movie star worth his salt, Behrooz Vossoghi was romantically linked to a number of stars and starlets. None however piqued the interest of people more than his pairing off with Googoosh. Ah, Googoosh, Googoosh! Googoosh was a huge pop star, an icon, and someone I would like to feature at length. But for now, let’s just note how pretty the two look together and leave it at that. Behrooz Vossoghi and Googoosh married, divorced, and made a few (not good but popular) movies together.

Persian Royal guests greeted by President and Mrs. Kennedy at the White House. 1962

Speaking of vintage and times gone by, you can’t get more vintage than this: Jacki O, the Shah of Iran, Farah Diba the former Empress of Iran, and JFK – all dressed to the nines – on the occasion of what I presume can be nothing other than a formal White House visit circa Camelot. I do like how they all seem sincerely interested and engaged.

Iran’s Miss World Contestant posing in front of a Paykan car | SOURCE

So many things to note about this picture! It is the cover of what was a very popular women’s magazine named “Zan ‘eh Rooz’ which means “Today’s Woman.” My mom would bring issues to the house but I was strictly forbidden from reading it. However, I will confess that I considered it a dare and managed to read every issue, front to back and back to front, on the sly. This particular cover is apparently of that year’s “Dokhtareh Shayesteh” which literally means “glorious girl” (or something like that) and which was Iran’s title given to the winner of a beauty pageant who would go on to compete in the Miss World competition. This cover announces the excitment of Iran’s contestant’s impending trip to partake in the international beauty pageant competition.

Most interestingly: she’s posing in front a Paykan car.

You will exit Tehran in 1 Kilometer. | Source

The bilingual highway sign is sufficient commentary for this photo I found online, don’t you think? I can look at this photograph for a long long time.

This truly is a moment frozen in time. On the verge of exiting Tehran.

While I dream of seeing the sign on the other side of the highway:

“ENTER. TEHRAN. 1 Kilometer.”

A plate of Quince Kookoo, A Qajar King, fruits and paisley

Quince is a praiseworthy fruit unaccountably overlooked in the West but surely poised to receive its due justice and high praise … any minute now. Tick, tock, tick, tock! But while quince tap, tap, taps its foot, awaiting an end to its role as a steely ambitious understudy for the glorified pomegranate and making it “All About Quince” and finally taking center-stage in the West, it has the solace of having being treated with affection and high regard in other parts of the world, particularly in Iran, from the beginning, and since the ancient times.

In Persian cooking, quince is relished as a treasured culinary ingredient in manners both savory and sweet. From quince stew (khoresh ‘e beh) to quince dolmeh (dolmeh ‘ye beh) to a toothsome quince jam (moraba ‘ye beh) to the glorious quince tas kabab (tas kabab ‘e beh) to a quince and lemon syrup (sharbet ‘eh beh limoo) that is a refreshing and aromatic summertime drink, to a few other culinary treats besides. As you can see, in the Iranian culinary tradition, the degree of partiality to quince is extensive and eclectic.

That said, I’d never heard of a quince kookoo  (kookoo ‘ye beh) until I read the “Forgotten Kookoo Recipes” section of a wonderful two volume encyclopedic Persian cookbook (a veritable tome) researched and written by Ostad Najaf Daryabandari. (More on this gentleman, who is a revered translator and public figure, and on the treasure of the cookbook he produced, at a later time.) It appears that the recipe for quince kookoo traces its origin to a 19th century cookbook scribed by one Mirza Ali Akbar Khan Kashani who was the chief royal cook of one of the more famous Persian kings of the Qajar dynasty: Nasser El Din Shah Qajar. The Qajar dynasty was corrupt (to the bone) but their saving grace is leaving a legacy of a specific style of painting that is nothing short of stunningly gorgeous. Behold as exhibit A, a portrait of the said Nasser el din Shah himself as painted in the Qajar style of art:

Portrait of Nasir Al Din Shah Gouache and gold on paper by Muhammad Isfahani 1850s | Hermitage Collection

May we take a quick detour away from food and recipes and venture into the arena of amateur art appreciation? I mean, look at all the patterns in this painting! So many intricate and ornate patterns and yet, nothing clashes and the whole comprises a harmonious eye candy. That is quite an artistic feat, don’t you agree?

I am also quite amused by the body language of the king, who hails from the 19th century, yet whose posture is quite modern in that it’s entirely casual. His title may be “His Majesty King of Kings, the Ruler of the Whole kingdom of Iran” — that’s the translation of the Persian text (تمثال عدیم المثل اعلیحضرت شاهنشاه کّل ممالک محروسه ایران) inscribed below the painting — but the king’s posture is so nonchalantly cool that I could very easily imagine him holding a glass of artisanal micro-brewed beer in his right hand while holding court in a hip Brooklyn bar! The king does sport the much-praised Persian unibrow (praised by and a trademark of many Persian artists that is – often, women depicted in Persian paintings have magnificently arched and full unibrows.)

And do let’s talk fashion. Because I so dig the clothing! My mom looked at this painting and said: “Gosh! Can you imagine people wearing clothes like this?” And I looked at this painting and thought: “Gosh! Can you imagine people wearing clothes like this?” But my mother’s tone is one of “thank God the fashion and styles have changed” and my tone is “it would be ever so delightful if we still went around like this.” I love the profusion of paisley patterns – the quintessential Persian design motif – and I am amused by the eccentric hat that is also a crown bearing paisley-shaped gems in its feather duster band. It all looks entirely comfy, cozy and yet supremely pretty and luxurious to me.

One question before moving on back to food: are those shoes the king is wearing, or is he just wearing socks?

“If you have doubts about our grandeur, look at our edifice.” Abdul-Razzaq Samargandi

Perusing a lovely stack of Persian Art Books at the Brooklyn Public library

Moving on back to the delicious and delightful topic of food … since I’ve already sung the praise of kookoo on 3 separate former occasions (Kookoo sabzi, kookoo sibzamini, kookoo Sabzi II) and since we already spent a bit of time casting an admiring glance at the role quince has played in the cuisine of Iran and how it’s verily on the verge of stardom here in the west, I will cut to the chase and spare you further bavardage (or bolboli kardan as we call it in Iran, meaning chattering ceaselessly much like a canary) and suggest we head over to the recipe section and review the direction for the quince kookoo recipe found in the cookbook penned by the Qajar King’s royal chef.

I will only add that kookoo ‘ye beh (quince kookoo) is soft and lush and tastes very good and smells good too and it will serve you well as either an appetizer or a light meal. You could enjoy it with yogurt and a platter of fresh herbs (sabzi khordan); or you can go the route of topping it with something sweet like jam or syrup or a dusting of confectioners sugar. Either way, it’ll go quite well with some soft flat bread. Nice, comforting and yummy. Noosh ‘eh jan in advance!

Quince Kookoo (kookoo ‘ye beh) | A delicious Persian fare

• 1 large quince
• 4 eggs (room temperature)
• 1 tablespoon sugar (or more to taste)
• 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
• pinch of saffron (dissolved in one tablespoon of hot water)
• pinch of salt

1. Peel, core, and grate the quince.
2. Dissolve saffron in a tablespoon of hot water. Add nutmeg and sugar, stir to dissolve. Pour over the grated quince and evenly mix the mixture with a fork.
3. Crack eggs open in a big bowl. Add salt and gently beat with a fork to mix. Add grated quince. Stir to mix the batter.
4. In a nonstick pan, heat oil. When sizzling hot, pour batter in the pan. Reduce heat to medium and allow batter to fry and cook on one side. (Could take anywhere from 5-10 minutes.) Use the edge of a spatula to cut batter into four wedges. Turn over each wedges and fry/cook it on the other side.
5. When fully cooked, transfer to a serving platter. Blot out any excess oil with a paper towel. Serve hot.

Quince kookoo can be served as an appetizer, a side dish, or a light lunch or dinner. You could enjoy it with yogurt and a platter of fresh herbs (sabzi khordan); or, you can go the route of topping it with somethings sweet like jam or syrup or a dusting of confectioners sugar. Either way, serve along with some soft flat bread.

Best served hot, but it is also good at room temperature, and makes a very decent left-over snack.

Quince kookoo batter and a quince

Make it, enjoy it and noosh ‘eh jan!

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Iran Air Flight Attendant, Pilot and crew | Contemporary Iran

Last week I posted some choice vintage pix of a time in Iran that is by now a foregone conclusion. A few of you were surprised by the Iran of the past and a few were wondering about the Iran that exists now. Just who are these Iranians we hear so much about on the news? Let’s take a pictorial journey across the ocean to a land steeped in ancient culture and modern controversy, the land of caviar and saffron and pistachios and rosewater and Rumi and Khayam, one of the oldest dynastic empires, and a land infamously labeled the Axis of Evil. (Since I have not been back since we left, I relied on Uncle Internet to gift me with some photographic evidence. Credit is given when the copyright owner is identifiable.)

Let’s start with the national Iranian airline again. In contrast with the swinging 60′s mini skirt touting flight attendants of the last Friday post, here are some pix I found of a modern day Iran Air crew: pilot , co-pilot and flight attendants. All seems normal and copesetic. But: no mini-jupe in sight!

Let’s take a look at some of the people who live in iran. Maybe we’ll see something different than just the saturated media images. What do people do in Iran? How do they live?

Looks like some people ski …

Skier on the slopes in Shemshak, Iran | Source

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While some others snow board …

Snowboarder in Shemshak (Near Tehran) Iran  | Source

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And some crazy people snowboard down the handrail.

Snowboarder, Shemshak, Alborz Mountains, Tehran | SOURCE

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Some women embrace the mandatory hijab (covering up, that is) with gusto while some observe it with a degree of inventiveness.

A woman wearing chador and another woman covering hair with a loose scarf | SOURCE

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Some people take the train. They go places. Then they come back.

Train Station in Tehran | Source

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Some people enjoy a private swimming pool to mingle and play.

Swimming pool party in Tehran, Iran | Source

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Some people go to the mosque of Emam Reza in Mashad to worship and pray.

Pilgrims at the tomb of Emam Reza in Mashahd | Source

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Some people play music on the street. (Look! Iranian hipsters!)

Street Musician Performers (twins? hipsters?) in Tehran | SOURCE

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And some people call it a day already and take a coffee break.

A chai va sigar break | source

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And on that note, I’m going to follow suit and break for coffee! To be continued!

Khoda Hafez ta dafeh ba’di bacheh ha! :D

Until then: Bye Bye & Happy Weekend!