Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Al Biryani from Iraq




I first tasted biryani earlier this spring. I was at a party following the baptism of my coworker’s baby, and the house was brimming with food. This was a celebration for an American born baby and a milestone for his Iraqi parents, who have lived in Tucson for almost two years. Squeezed onto a couch next to a twelve year old, I ate whatever was proudly heaped onto my paper plate. Biryani, masguf, some delicious fried pancake full of cinnamon and beef. The weight of grilled meat threatened to tear a hole right through my plate. Everything was delicious. The food, it seemed, was the main point of the party. People eagerly asked us gringos, you like Iraqi food?

Working at a refugee resettlement agency, I interact with Iraqis daily. While I know few Americans who have been to war in Iraq, I am acquainted with dozens of Iraqis who were displaced by the war. The U.S. resettled about 10,000 Iraqis last year, and around 500 came to Tucson. I help them get doctor’s appointments, negotiate with their landlords, and apply for Social Security Income. Discussing people’s immediate needs is strange when the news reports a particularly violent day in Bagdhad. But that, I guess, is the absurdity of war. The people who are most affected by it are pretty helpless in the face of it. This is what we all struggle to get comfortable with as Iraqis try to start new lives (and resettlement agencies try to help them get started) in the land of saguaro cacti.

Luckily, no one has lost much control over the food they make. There are two Middle Eastern grocery stores in Tucson and from what I hear, it’s fairly easy to get ingredients to make Iraqi food the “right” way. I was eager to learn how to make biryani the right way, because it was my favorite dish that I tried at the baptism party. Rice laced with hints of cardamom, cinnamon, and nuts—you can make it as a side dish, or as the basis of a whole meal, depending what you decide to add to it. I adapted the following recipe from Huda Ahmed’s version in the Boston Globe, based on advice from my Iraqi coworker, Lena. You may add roasted chicken or lamb to the rice if you like. If you have never cooked rice in a broth of fresh spices, I strongly urge you to try this out. It’s really delicious and kind of beautiful to watch and smell. This recipe makes about 8 servings.

Al Biryani

Vegetable Part

½ cup pine nuts
1 cup raisins
1 peeled potato
2 large onions
3 carrots

1. Dice potato, onions, carrots. Potatoes should be cut into ½ inch cubes
2. Soak cut potatoes in water for 10 minutes. Drain.
3. Saute potatoes until brown. Set potatoes to the side.
4. Saute onions until brown (around 10 minutes). Set to the side.
5. Saute carrots until slightly cooked (around 5 minutes). Add pine nuts and raisins to carrots and sauté for another 5 minutes. Add onions and potatoes to the mixture.

Rice Part:
1 ½ teaspoon salt
1 t. pepper
2 teaspoons ground cardamom
1 ½ teaspoons saffron
1/3 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1/3 teaspoon cumin
2 cups basmati rice
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 bay leaves
1 cinnamon stick
1 cup vermicelli pieces or angel hair pasta
1 cup frozen peas
½ cup mint
½ cup scallion
½ cup parsley
Optional: Almonds, Cashews, Chicken, or Lamb

1. Combine salt, pepper, cardomom, saffron, cloves, ginger, and cumin.

2. Bring rice, spice mix, cinnamon, and bay leaves to boil in 5 cups water. Turn down heat to simmer and cook for 15 minutes.

3. While rice is boiling, heat skillet and add pasta. Cook for 2 minutes.

3. Add pasta and 1 cup frozen peas to the rice. There should still be some liquid still in the pot. Cover and cook for 5 more minutes.

4. Turn off heat and let pot sit, covered for 10 minutes. Squeeze ½ lemon over rice to stop it from being sticky.

5. Cut up mint, scallion, and parsley. Layer with the rice. Add vegetable mixture to the layers. If you are adding meat or nuts, this is the time to stir them in. Serve warm or room temperature.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Tortilla Española from basically everywhere in Spain

I was moving to Spain, and I was concerned. I had no job, no apartment, only one acquaintance in the country, and didn’t know how to conjugate any Spanish verbs, but this is not what so preoccupied me. I was worried about food. I had heard descriptions of Spain’s national cuisine. The words fresh and Mediterranean were always used, but the only ingredients that I ever heard were ham, eggs, and potatoes. I’m not a vegetarian, and less so when I’m traveling and I like to embark into strange new foodlands, but I eat way more kale and quinoa than burgers and fries. Plus I wasn’t ‘traveling’ per se in Spain. I was trying to live there for awhile, and relocation means getting past that ‘eat whatever, do whatever’ traveling mentality. I was concerned about my ability to live in a place with sparse green vegetables in the national cuisine and white rice as the most accessible grain.
As it turns out, there were certain truths to the descriptions I had heard. The pride that Spanish people reserve for their pork products rivals America’s pride in its starred and striped flag. El jamon is so ubiquitous, it was one of the first words that I learned in Spanish, and I definitely saw the eyes of more than one of my students tear up when the topic was brought up.
Enter la tortilla española. Not the same tortilla that we wrap our beans and cheese into in the United States. More akin to a frittata of eggs, potatoes, (and manchego cheese or vegetables if you please). I don’t remember when exactly the tortilla and I first met, but I imagine it was the first time that I went out to eat in Barcelona and breathed a sigh of relief that there was some source of protein on the menu which didn’t involve a pig. Tortillas are equally as common as jamon, though not nearly as revered. You’ll find bite sized pieces speared on toothpicks in tapas bars, slabs in bocadillo sandwiches at truck stop or train station cafeterias, on plates in people’s homes, in fancy restaurants..
One of the greatest things for me about this dish is its no frills, unpretentious preparation. It is truly convenient and delicious when you are penniless or time-less. It is also something that truly evokes the essence of Spain for me, to the extent that a recipe can do that for a country. Dangerous as it may be to generalize about an entire country’s ‘culture’ (more dangerous in a country with thirteen autonomous regions, four distinct languages, and ongoing territorial battles between neighboring regions), the people I encountered all throughout the country shared the refreshing ability to make a lot out of very little. Cordoba may be more provincial, Barcelona more cosmopolitan, Catalans proud and reserved, Basques resistors, but the fact remains that all of them live with the not too distant memory of a Civil War followed by a brutally repressive dictatorship. Tough times have certainly shaped the national dialogue, the tone people use to speak (or not speak) about certain things, the way they live, celebrate, and the way that they eat. The excess consumerism I grew up with made it particularly refreshing to routinely find a summer’s night fiesta created out of thin air, some folding chairs, and a few bottles of wine.
Unsurprisingly, the tortilla is said to have been born out of one such times, several hundred years ago, when a farmwife in the rural Basque Country was visited by a General and his hungry troops. The woman had only some potatoes, onions, and eggs from the farm to work with. I am grateful to my friends in Spain who happily handed over their own Tortilla recipes and instructions. This recipe is a combination of all of theirs. Buen provecha!

Tortilla Espanola:
6 or 7 medium sized Yukon gold potatoes
Whole yellow onion, diced into medium-small sized pieces
Half a dozen eggs
Extra virgin olive oil for pan frying
1 c. sliced thin zucchini, eggplant and/ or chopped spinach (optional)
1 Sliced fresh tomato

Wash and peel potatoes into thin slices. I like to slice them into thin circular disks that look like poker chips and then quarter them. Potatoes should not be sliced too thinly or they’ll lose their rich flavor in the tortilla. (Not recommended to use a food processer here.)
Mix potatoes and onions in bowl and lightly salt. Heat oil over medium heat in non-stick frying pan until hot enough to fry the onions and potatoes. Dip a potato slice in to see if oil is ready for frying. Carefully pour in potato onion mixture. Potatoes and onions should be fully covered in oil and you may need to turn down the heat to medium-low to prevent potatoes from browning too quickly on the outside and staying raw on the inside. Cooks approximately ten minutes. (If you’re adding additional veggies like eggplant or zucchini, I slice them thinly and add them a few minutes before eggs and potatoes are done.)
Once dark golden and cooked through, drain the mixture in a colander (I recommend saving the excess oil to fry with later.) Beat eggs by hand into a large mixing bowl and stir in potato onion mixture.
Pour 1-2 Tablespoons of salvaged oil into pan followed by tortilla mix. Tortilla should cook on medium heat, not too quickly or it will burn around the edges! Lift with a spatula around edges to take a peek and when it’s a light golden brown (will still be a little runny in the center), get ready to flip!..
Over the sink, place a large plate over the top of the pan, and then flip the frying pan (one hand on the pan handle, the other firmly on the bottom of the plate). Put tortilla back in pan to finish cooking. Use a spatula to tuck in any runny-ness. Will probably cook about 3-4 more minutes and then should be left in hot pan with heat turned off.
Sliced like a pizza and delicious when served with sliced tomatoes and a dusting of salt.