Old-school Em-i-lis

The past couple days have found me yearning for leisurely hours in the kitchen. It's been a long while, too long, since I've felt I had any significant amount of time to relax in there and play around. I miss it, and have noticed that when rushed, dinners become more chore than pleasure, and I cut culinary corners in ways I don't like. 

Our spring has, so far, been an awfully wet and chilly one. There have been glorious days of warmth -heat even!- and sunshine, promises of lemonade stands and relaxed evenings on the deck with a cold glass of wine. But by and large, those times have been elusive, and most days are still "pants and long-sleeve T's, boys" rather than shorts and sunblock ones.

That said, it's spring somewhere, and the produce of the glorious season is starting to roll our way. It's the right time for rhubarb, and those beautiful pink and green stalks are showing themselves at our local farmers markets as are greenhouse tomatoes and herbs and the earliest strawberries. Asparagus is in its prime.

At the grocery, fava bean pods glow green and swollen, and plums, peaches and apricots are finally being trucked in from places north of Chile!

Perhaps I should thank the mostly-gloomy days of the recent past, for they have offered me quick moments in which to steal to the markets and have then shooed me back inside when the rains return. During the latter periods, the beautiful beans and fruits and tomatoes and greens beckon to me, and I have gone to them.

Shelling beans is an always-pleasant task, meditative, productive and grounding. Favas and borlottis are my favorites to hull, because my reward is a bowl of vibrant green or cranberry-speckled beans that only nature could conjure. Favas beg to be smashed with mint and pecorino and olive oil and a squeeze of lemon, slathered atop grilled bread slicked with more oil. Nothing this beautiful can be anything but healthful or a pleasure to eat.

fava bean and mint crostini

The smell of tomatoes alone is thrilling, but then the juicy pop of each orb's taut skin is the happiest salvo. The crisp crack of each asparagus spear's end breaking off at just the point that woody and fibrous gives way to silky and tender. 

the freshest pizza 

All of these ingredients make such delicious dishes but without much effort; that is the gift of real, fresh, seasonal food.

velvet apricots

Today, I made my black velvet apricot and Cognac jam. It is as delectable as it is pretty; looks rather like a jewel, really. I love recipes that freeze an ephemeral ingredient in time for later enjoyment. It's why I make mango butter even though straight-up mango, peeled and sliced, is our favorite way to enjoy them, especially the Ataulfo, or champagne, variety that comes out in late April each year.

I also made some old favorites this week including my farro with golden beets, candied pecans, feta and a sage-chive oil and oven-roasted rosemary salmon, and, perhaps most thrillingly, treated myself to this Meyer lemon tree on Mother's Day. I'm positively over the moon about it, and will feel equal parts Cher (from Clueless; remember when she reaches out of her father's office window to pick a fresh lemon for his tea?) and Martha Stewart when I pluck a fresh lemon from its boughs.

farro with golden beets, candied pecans, feta and chive-sage oil

Now, if only the sun will come out a little bit more and help us all dry and grow and ready ourselves for the next marathon of cooking and growing and rooting, it'd be swell!

More Persian food, Penzeys, and Yekta, a new-to-me, great market

I recently ran out of Aleppo pepper and have felt a vague sense of unease since. Whole Foods doesn't carry it, so for years Williams-Sonoma has been my source. Now they've gone and stopped stocking this marvelous, brick-red spice. Penzeys to the rescue!

Do y'all know Penzeys Spices? They have a good website and also a number of brick-and-mortar stores, they support environmental and civil liberties causes, and they carry a wide variety of dried herbs, spices, extracts and proprietary spice blends. For orders north of $30, shipping is free and prompt. 

For one or two bags of Aleppo pepper though, a trip to the store closest me is required, and while I sort of hate driving up Wisconsin Ave to Rockville, it is a chain-store shopper's paradise. Last Sunday after swimming, because my Aleppo-unease was growing mightier, I took the kids to Penzeys with me. The only thing I struck out on was dried rose petals which I wanted for several of the Persian recipes in Food of Life I've been salivating over.

"You know, you should try Yekta's. It's a Persian market just down the Pike," said a Penzeys employee. 

I hightailed it out of there so fast, I nearly left the kids behind. 

Yekta Market and Kabobi are adjoining structures in the same lot as Oliver's favorite place, Party City. The restaurant faces Rockville Pike while the market looks at the side parking area. I was in heaven immediately upon stepping inside as vats of nuts, bins of dried berries and racks laden with all kinds of tahini, rice, couscous, tea, herbs and spices, breads and sweets greeted me warmly. There are also refrigerated, freezer and deli sections.

Suffice it to say that we left with much more than a bag of dried rose petals.

Yesterday, after enjoying a Cinco de Mayo lunch of tacos and then making more for the boys' dinner, I pulled out the beef short ribs I'd purchased earlier this week (I adore short ribs), and started browning them while considering a Persian-inspired braise.

veggie tacos, beans and brown rice

I decided to use onions and carrots, red wine and beef broth, a hefty amount of advieh (a Persian spice blend that includes cumin, coriander, nutmeg, cardamom, and dried rose petals; mace and turmeric are sometimes added too.), pomegranate molasses, pomegranate arils, salt and pepper. After sauteeing the onions and carrots and then letting them stew in the red wine as it reduced, I added everything else, covered the pot and let things cook for about three hours.

Short ribs cannot be rushed if you want tender meat. The rib should slip out on its own, and three hours is usually the sweet spot for that. It is worth the wait because during a long, low braise, the gravy gets awfully flavorful!

Just before serving dinner, I used some of the braising liquid to cook the couscous, a gorgeous, fine-grain, whole wheat version I bought at Yekta. I also quickly broiled some asparagus that I'd drizzled with lemon and olive oil and made a caprese with sumac to give it a middle-eastern twist.

If I say so myself, dinner was sublime. I only wish I'd made something for dessert!

Food of Life food: kuku, and chicken with rice and apricots

Circling back to my previous post about the marvelous coincidence in being given two versions of the same cookbook, Food of Life, I wanted to share some photos of the vibrant, flavorful kuku and my second attempted dish, chicken with rice and apricots. 

Both are really delicious, and I'd say my first efforts were resounding successes except that the kuku fell apart (it's supposed to hold firm so that you can slice it, rather like a frittata) and I could not dislodge 75% of the prized, golden shell layer of the rice dish (the tah-dig, a crust that forms as the rice sort of caramelizes in the pot).

So be it. We still enjoyed these meals and in fact have enjoyed them for days as Food of Life's "serves 6" appears to actually mean "serves 6 with ample leftovers." This is all good because we are a leftovers-loving family.

While the colors of the kuku are magnificent, and the zucchini and parsley tasted as bright as they look, you can see that what was supposed to be a slice is little more than a spooned slop atop some crisped pita.

Whatever. It's like when I'm teaching a canning class and we're making anything with strawberries, I always say "Listen, if your jam doesn't set perfectly, just call it sauce and move on. Who's going to be like, 'Strawberry sauce? No good!' Exactly. No one."

So anyway, back to the food. I really liked the kuku and would definitely make it again. It was fresh, light and yet hearty, and healthy.

Two nights later, I ventured into a more time-intensive recipe, the chicken with rice and apricots. I do not mind putting in effort, but I'll tell y'all that this dish takes a long time. Like three hours long. Let's all give it up for Persian mamas and all other cooks who daily craft such layered meals. Mahgah.

First you prepare the chicken by cubing it and cooking it -for nearly an hour!- with onions and turmeric and other lovely things. Meanwhile, you will optimally soak the rice for two hours and also prepare the onion, apricot, date and golden raisin part of the dish. 

The spices are divine: cinnamon, nutmeg, coriander, cumin, saffron, rose water, advieh (a Persian blend of many of the spices I just mentioned plus dried and ground rose petals), and turmeric.  

I would like to take this moment to give a shout-out to turmeric. It makes everything such a smashing shade of orange-yellow and its purported health benefits, including being an effective anti-inflammatory and powerful antioxidant, are fantastic. 

Not only do both dishes make excellent leftovers, the chicken and rice dish actually improves after a day or two! And, I got to use up the bottle of rose water I've had on hand for a while now.