Persian rice Tah Cheen (or Tah Chin) style, step-by-step tutorial

 

 

The other day, while we were having dinner, my son asked me why nests don't fall off of trees.

Besides the basic grasp - if not understanding - of physics (balance, gravity and all that jazz) behind the question, which surprised me to a degree, it once again made me realize how much more for granted we take things compared to the average four year old.  

 

He usually asks the best questions at the table.

 

Once he was staring quietly at his hands with great interest. He then proceeded  to ask me what the lines were, pointing at the wrinkles on his knuckles.

 

Another question he asked me recently at the table that made me smile: why do they put plastic on eggs? He was eating sunny side up eggs and pointing at that transparent film that forms around the edges. Basically he had been eating it his whole life convinced it was Saran wrap (or cling film for those of you non Americans).

 

Not to mention he calls all meat chicken, so a normal enquiry at dinner will be: from what animal does the chicken we are eating come from?

 

 

 

I guess we can all agree that the questions a four-year old asks are priceless. But us adults have questions too. One of the things I always wondered about was how Persians make that delicious crunchy layer on their rice.  

Of love and of loss - Chicken Tikka Masala

 

 

This has been an extraordinary week, and as I start writing this post it is only halfway through.

 

Extraordinary as in "out of the ordinary" not " unusually great".

 

F and I spent the first two days of it sitting sweat-drenched in stiff, ceremonial outfits in the midst of a heatwave.
 

On Monday we wore the colors of mourning to say goodbye to an old friend. Needless to say, his departure was unexpected, shocking, painful and happened much too soon.

 

It is very different when you bid your farewell to a person that has lived a long, rich life. It is still extremely sad, but you know it is their time, it is part of the circle of life.

 

When, on the other hand, you sit in a pew surrounded by all the people who were a part of your formative years and you see grown men (and women) cry their eyes out, something is very wrong. You almost hear an unfinished life coming to a screaching halt. There is just grief, no comprehension. You feel the weight of injustice on your shoulders; as the priest talks you remember facial expressions, words said, moments spent together that had gone lost somewhere in your subconscious. While you sit in that church it seems everyone is suddenly a good friend... no, your best friend. You are all connected on an intimate level, you share that pain. Everyone has an air of empathy and well meaning. You mentally promise each other you will never forget, you will share the precious memories, you will be better friends, companions, parents, children from now on. You hug, you exchange tissues and bare a part of your soul you usually never let anyone see. And even if you pretend not to notice them, you feel the cold fingers of fear creaping up around your hairline at the mere thought that it could have been you. For days after you spend large amounts of your time being incredibly aware of and thankful for the beauty that surrounds you.

 

So yes, that was Monday.

Raw from the experience of the previous day and a tad unwilling, on Tuesday we donned the colors of summer. I stepped into a flowy, light dress and F replaced his somber tie with a bright one. We didn't even turn on the radio on the drive up to the wedding, our hearts were so heavy. Then, as we neared the mountains and crossed the border into another country, our mood got lighter and we started feeling almost elated.

The sky was blue, the lake sparkled in the sun and the beauty of the landscape enchanted us. Once more we silently thanked someone/something for the breathtaking world we live in.
 

It did us good to see a new family being created after seeing a broken family the day before. It is good for the soul to counterbalance salty tears of grief with the sweeter ones of sentiment. It soothes to see love, to see different cultures, religions, races come together instead of clashing. It helps to be reminded by an exchange of rings, or an email (you know who you are, thank you), how much love there is in the world and how brief our journey through it is.

 

 

It was wonderful to dig our feet into the sand, to see the white of a wedding day spruced up by the bright, warm colors of Africa. Hips in vibrant prints jiggled to the beat of drums, we did the conga to '80s disco music and during the cutting of the cake, an ancient song bid peace to be upon us. Evenu shalom alejem.
 
I felt guilty on my way to the wedding, like I was not  mourning my friend appropriately. But now I know I did what he loved most: I celebrated the awesomeness that is life, in good and bad. I celebrated friendship, I drank champagne, I danced barefoot in the sand. And by doing this I celebrated his life too.

This one is for you, my friend.

 

 

Indian cooking is a bit like life: a mix of contrasting ingredients and flavors. Spicy, sour, sweet, cool earthy. It is all about balacing these flavors to reach the sublime.

I used to be really intimidated by the enormous list of ingredients most Indian recipes require, but the truth is that once you invest in the basic, pantry-friendly range of spices called for, many favorites are just at an arm's reach.

Recipe from Indiaphile

Yogurtlu Havuc Salatasi

  

So, now you know my dirty secret. The pita I made last week end was just a vehicle to eat this.

 

This being a Turkish dip called Yogurtlu Havuc Salatasi. Or at least I think it is.

 

I have been reading up on it and found it spelled so many different ways and with so many variations, that I cannot be sure. Sometimes it is just called yogurtlu havuc (spelled with a variety of letters that I cannot even find), other times the word salatasi is added. Also, like so many popular dishes, there seem to be a variety of versions out there. Some leave the carrots raw, others quickly sauté them; some only add garlic and perhaps some dill to the yogurt mix. Others add different spices and herbs.

 

It seems this dip is a very popular meze in drinking holes and restaurants and is often accompanied and strongly associated with raki, the Turkish national alcoholic beverage.

 

I have never been to Turkey (yet, I'd like to add) so I cannot even say what the most popular version is (any Turkish readers out there to tell us more about it? I know you're there, I have seen you stopping by). I didn't even know this dip existed until a few weeks ago, but if Lorraine puts the words easy and delicious in the same title, I cannot resist.

 

Also, I love me some dips with some warm bread and a cold glass of sparkly prosecco with friends. I like the idea of using the boring humble carrot to make something a little glamorous. I like that you are tricked into thinking you are indulging in something creamy and decadent while you are actually ingesting vitamins and boosting your immune system thanks to the carrots, the yogurt and the raw garlic, whilst keeping your calorie count very low.

 

Well, minus the pita. And the prosecco, the inordinate amounts of hummus and guac with chips and the chocolate dessert. But I digress.

 

When we were invited to a practically vegetarian household for dinner last week end, I knew this was what I would make. I'm telling you, with this dip, nobody cared about the pita not puffing completely.

Hello summer! Popsicles (with a secret ingredient)

It is a long holiday week end here in Italy and as you read this, we should be on the island of  Elba. My fingers are crossed while writing (figuratively speaking of course) that the weather will be decent, in the hope of seeing those sweet feet covered in sand again, of taking a swim in the probably-still-freezing Mediterranean, of having gelato while strolling down the Darsena looking at boats. If I will be doing just that as you read, then it is popsicle time.

Before I had kids I admit I had sort of forgotten about these guys, but now if you ask me popsicles are the best invention ever. Why?

1. They are good

2. They are healthy: fruit, yogurt, honey... hello???

3. They are a nutritious snack disguised as junk food

4. They use up leftovers, especially fruit a little past its prime

5. You can make a million different combinations

6. You can make fun, alcohol-based grown up versions

7. Kids always love them
8. They are the perfect emergency snack you can always keep in your freezer

9. They are refreshing

10. They are pretty

So what are you waiting for? Go crazy!

I usually use yogurt as a dairy base and have used milk in the past. This time I had some left over condensed milk and worked a treat. I will be using it again for sure, the kids loved it. When I am not using sweetened condensed milk, I usually add in a few tablespoons of honey.

Ingredients

1 small basket strawberries

a bunch of mint

1 banana

1/2 cup condensed milk

Put the cut up fruit and the other ingredients into the container of a stand up mixer or in a blender and process until smooth. Freeze.

Oops...I made it again!

I hope you all had a Happy Halloween or a Happy All Saints Day or even just a nice week end with your family & friends.

We had a bunch of friends over for a brunch/buffet, not after the usual slight drama having small children provides.

On Saturday evening our little boy, S., came down with a pretty high fever. I cannot begin to tell you how disappointed our daughter M. was (and us too, if truth must be told). Our pumpkin was carved, the seeds were roasted, the fridge was stuffed with food, Halloween activities for the kids had been printed... Sunday morning, however, S. woke up in great spirits and not a hint of a fever. You know how kids are, they sometimes get these spot temperatures that come and go in a matter of hours. Luckily, our guests all have children and have experienced the same thing with their children. Excessive drooling on S.' side further convinced us that it was all just a matter of teething. So we decided to have our friends over anyway and what a great decision that was. We had a lovely day and the children had a ball!

Fluffy, moist yogurt pancakes

  

It is only half the way through the week and I am already dreaming about the week end.

First of all I get to sleep in. Not until past 11:00am like I did in the old, disco days. Not even until 9:00am with a 14-month old and a 4-year old. Usually these means we get to sleep till 7.30-8:00am, not bad with kids. I am not an early morning person, don't get me wrong, but considering I am usually at the office by 7.10am, by my standards it is a luxury.

Second, it means I have two whole days to spend with my family, starting with breakfast. During the week my whole family is still sleeping when I leave the apartment so sitting around a table sipping coffee, giggling with my daughter and just enjoying each other's company is a real treat.

Last, but not least, I have time to cook. In daylight, so I can take some halfway decent pictures. Without little hands grabbing at my legs in my baby's attempt to stay in an upright position (yes, 14 months and still not walking) while I am handling hot pots and pans and constant "Mooooommyyyyys" from the other room. It is all happening anyway, but F is there to save the day while I sift flour and get my hands greasy.

Breakfast+week end+cooking+flour= pancakes

You don't need to be a genius to figure out that equation. I know it is a staple American breakfast, I know it is so simple you don't need a recipe and you don't want yet another blogger publishing one. But I stumbled across this recipe with yogurt in it on One Green Generation, attracted by its title. And a food blog cannot be considered a food blog in its own right without a pancake recipe on it, n'est-ce pas? So forgive me and skip ahead, if I am boring you. Or read more if you are already dreaming of that sweet-salty-buttery fluffines on your tongue.

Chilled pea & mint soup

The time has come to defrost my freezer. This task is long overdue and my freezer has started sending me messages. It is like the North Pole in there, ice and snow everywhere. Since we are leaving for sunny beaches in a few days (and my Sicilian mother-in-law's cooking - fear not I will document and pass on recipes! I promise), I have decided to use up everything in it and pull the plug.